Nothing Stays in Vegas

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Nothing Stays in Vegas Page 13

by Moira McTark


  “Hell, no.” Cal took her hand in his. He gingerly slipped the ring onto her finger. A perfect fit.

  Turning over her hand, he kissed her open palm and then looked into her eyes and smiled. “Haven’t you heard? Nothing stays in Vegas.”

  About the Author

  To learn more about Moira McTark, please visit http://www.moiramctark.com or www.moiramctark.blogspot.com.

  Look for these titles by Moira McTark

  Now Available:

  Consumed

  Coming Soon:

  Tamed

  Who said “sexy” isn’t a science?

  Test Me

  © 2007 Dee Tenorio

  When wealthy scientist Vetta St. Claire begins a news experiment polling the male libido, she unexpectedly locks horns with long-time scientific rival Travis Carmichael. She never meant to test Travis’s libido…but sometimes a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.

  Down on his luck and on the verge of giving up his dream to make a real contribution to cancer research, the last thing Travis wants—or needs—is a fling with the prickly Vetta. Travis doesn’t like her. In fact, he hates her. But when the sex is this good…

  “Hard science” doesn’t begin to cover it.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Test Me:

  “So where do you sleep?”

  He pointed at the chair.

  Vetta stared at it. It had once been leather, she decided. Maybe pleather. It had long ago lost any texture…or comfort, if she didn’t miss her guess. The arms were worn and torn in places. The armadillo design of pillows overlapping pillows for the upper portion of the seat was flattened like pancakes. If she looked hard, she could probably see Travis’s exact imprint from his feet to his big, stubborn head.

  He circled the arm of the chair, dropping into it. He smiled up at her and patted his thigh.

  Vetta eyed the denim over his leg for any kind of irritation. There didn’t seem to be any insects. Maybe a flea?

  “Vetta?” He patted again.

  Her neck tightened. She brought her hand to her throat, feeling around it with the tips of her fingers.

  Travis tilted his head. “What are you doing?”

  “Feeling for a collar. Or some fur. There’s got to be something here if you think I’m going to come running because of a hand pat.” She gave him a glare that should melt steel. “Don’t confuse me with one of your Pavlovian lab monkeys. Especially not the redhead who couldn’t stop screaming.”

  His brow creased. “Pamela?”

  “Whatever!” Great. Now she had a name for her auditory trauma.

  “Vetta.”

  “What?” she all but growled, wishing she could get that woman out of her memory. Get all the women out. It wasn’t that she thought she had any real claim to him. Just that they were a testament to his need to be free. He never slept with women who mattered. Logically, it was smart to remind herself of that not-so-subtle fact.

  For the first time in her life, she hated logic.

  “Shut up and get your ass over here already.”

  The moment didn’t last long. “Gee, when you put it that way… No.”

  He looked as mutinous as she felt. They’d planned to have uncomplicated sex and from the second she saw him in the hall it had been anything but. Why wasn’t it uncomplicated?

  Note number eighty-five: Men claim to be simple creatures, yet they manage to make everything simple into an argument.

  “You’re forgetting the deal, Vetts. We’re supposed to be honest at all times. I’m supposed to tell you what I want, remember? What I want is for you to come over here and sit with me.”

  “Oh, I remember. But you should remember that wanting and getting are completely separate things. One does not ensure the other.”

  “Especially where you’re concerned,” he grumbled. She thought he muttered something that sounded like “twenty-two to seventeen”, but couldn’t be sure, since that made no sense at all. When she leaned forward suspiciously, his hand shot out and grabbed hers. A solid yank had her spinning into his lap in a sprawl.

  She used her elbows to sit up, caring little when he shifted rapidly to avoid the hard points. “What lesson is this supposed to be? Never take no for an answer?”

  He grinned. “Don’t be afraid to take what you want.” His hands began tugging on her lab coat. “I’ve got to get you to stop wearing so damn many clothes.”

  The jacket came off, but he still had three sweatshirts and two T-shirts to get through. “Consider it my way of requesting foreplay.”

  He stopped moving, narrowing one eye at her. “Is that supposed to be a dig at my technique?”

  It was nice to be wanted so much a man that he was tearing to get at her. Plus he deserved it for dragging her into her current position. She lowered her lashes the way she’d seen her mother do countless times. “What technique would that be?”

  “If you don’t watch it, it’ll be Paddleball.”

  She grinned at him. His lap really was pretty comfortable. She wriggled closer to him.

  Travis’s gaze turned accusing. “You’re enjoying this.”

  ”Didn’t you want me to?”

  “I wanted you undressed first.” Should she tell him he was almost pouting?

  Vetta leaned back and decided not to fill him in. Teasing was a lot more fun. She swung her feet on the other side of the chair arm a few times. “Who’s stopping you from undressing me?”

  He tugged at her sweaters. “That would be you.”

  “Haven’t you ever heard that saying, anything worth having is worth working for?”

  “No, I’m more your anything worth doing is worth doing well guy.”

  Yes, he was, the smug schmuck. “Well, I’m waiting. Do something well.”

  “Always did like a challenge.” He started with a sweater, pulling it from the others and getting it over her breasts before she started laughing and pulling it back down. He gave it another few tugs before he was laughing with her. “Damn, Vetta, you could get an easy-unlock zipper or something. I’m gonna need a hacksaw to get you out of these things.”

  “You’re the one planning to have sex on this godforsaken chair. If either of us is demanding the impossible, it’s you.”

  “I thought you wanted to try everything.”

  She tried to get a little of her sarcasm back, but she was feeling too light. Too happy. “Are you claiming that my experiences won’t be complete unless we do it on a beat-up recliner?”

  “No, but I’ll be able to check it off my fantasy list.”

  She stilled his hands with her own. “Since when have you fantasized about me?”

  He didn’t want to answer that one, she could tell. But she wanted to know. When he moved his head to look away, she touched his chin and drew his gaze back to her own. “Tell me.”

  “I just know I’m going to regret this, but it won’t hurt anything to tell you now, I guess.” He brought a fingertip to her lips, tracing the shape and parting the bottom from the top. “I had my first fantasy about…ten seconds after I met you. You were passing my seat on the step in the lecture hall and snagged your foot on my bag. You didn’t fall but your mouth… It made this perfect ‘O’. I’ve never forgotten it.”

  Vetta forced herself not to purse her lips for him now, the flesh of her lips tingling beneath his touch. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “You were twelve.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I was eighteen.”

  “Barely. Believe me, the last thing I had time for was a virgin with stars in her eyes.”

  Vetta started, the sensual spell around them breaking. “You say that like being a virgin is a bad thing.”

  “No, virginity is fine. But virgins generally get it in their heads that the first man they sleep with is their one true love or some other kind of bullshit.” He had no trouble rediscovering his dry sarcasm. “I’m no one’s Prince Charming.”

  Note number eighty-six: Virginity is a turn-off.

 
; Vetta nodded, more to herself than in understanding. “Is this a common thinking among men?”

  “I can’t speak for all of mankind or anything.” He chuckled, then seemed to realize he’s said something wrong because he sobered fast. “Anyone committed to their goals who isn’t a selfish bastard would avoid a virgin as best he can. It’s only common sense.” He turned his head to study her. “Are you making mental notes?”

  Uh oh. “Why would I do that?”

  “’Cause you have that look. The one that says you’re filing something away for later.”

  That made her smile. “You’ve catalogued my expressions?”

  “Know thine enemy. I figured out a lot about reading body language on the football field. Saved my ass more than a few times, let me tell you.” He smiled, seemingly to himself, probably over all kinds of situations.

  Well, that explained plenty. He’d escaped most of her traps by reading her physical cues. Did that mean he’d always know when she was keeping something from him? The last thing she wanted was to fill him in on her sexual status. If virginity was a turn-off, deflowering was probably a complete ball-breaker.

  He refocused on her, as if something just occurred to him. “What do you care about virgins, anyway?”

  Nope. Definitely not telling him.

  Luckily, she knew Travis probably as well as he seemed to know her. He’d caught the scent of her thoughts. He needed distracting.

  His thumb was still poised just beneath her bottom lip. She pulled back only far enough to purse her lips around the tip. “Was it like this?”

  His gaze flickered, interest in the chocolaty depths. “Was what like this?”

  She let her lips soften, inverting the caress. “My mouth. In your fantasies. Was it anything like this?” She smiled around his thumb. Remembering a scenario from one of her erotic books, she flicked out her tongue to touch him. “I never did get around to saying please.”

  His eyes narrowed and the hint of a flush reddened his cheekbones. She looked again, raising her lashes slowly. The corner of his mouth rose at the same pace.

  Distraction complete.

  The only thing stronger than Amber Grayson and Brian Matther’s loathing for each other, is their all consuming lust.

  Consumed

  © 2006 Moira McTark

  Amber Grayson’s dates never seem to measure up. That is, until Brian Matthers—the boy from high school who sparked such intense longing in her, no other man could compare—returns to her life.

  When Amber and Brian come together, their powerful chemistry overwhelms them both, leading them to fall hard and fast. But betrayals are easy to believe when things seem too good to be true, and the romance ends as fast as it starts.

  Only Brian and Amber have had a taste of the heat between them, and a taste isn’t nearly enough. Nothing is hotter than make-up sex…except break up sex and when the two indulge in no-strings attached sex tempers flare and barbs fly. Brian quickly discovers that the only thing more intense than Amber’s wrath is her passion.

  Embarking on a relationship that is strictly sexual and gratifies their most torrid fantasies, they soon find that abiding by the unspoken rule of strictly sex proves more challenging than either of them expected.

  Enjoy this excerpt from Consumed:

  Amber was tucked into Brian’s chest, soaking his tee-shirt with the sodden fabric of her own. Her breasts pressed flat against him as he lifted her with one arm and carried her out of the bar.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she hissed, pushing out of his grasp.

  Dumbfounded, he stared back at her. “Are you freaking kidding me, Amber? If I’d known your goal was to get mauled by a bunch of strangers, I would have offered you a second drink to splash over your tits, given you a leg up to stand on the bar.”

  “Screw you, Brian. I was fine. That guy was grabby, but I was fine.” Her voice faltered slightly, giving away her shaken state.

  He yanked the shirt off and held it out. If he was going to get arrested, he’d at least leave Amber with a little coverage.

  He shoved the shirt towards her. “Here, put this on.”

  She looked down at it like he was offering her rancid meat.

  “That’s it.” He stalked over to her, grabbed her shoulders and spun her so she faced the darkened glass of a closed storefront. “Look!”

  Amber gasped at her reflection, crossing her bare arms over her chest. “Give it to me!” She grabbed for the shirt and quickly slipped it on. The absence of her ample bosom was a bittersweet victory. Brian leaned forward, trying to control the delivery of his words. “Are you here with anyone? Can someone take you home?”

  She was still looking in the glass at the image of herself now wrapped in Brian’s shirt. “No. I had a crappy day at work, made a stupid mistake—my head…anyway, I just wanted to get out and burn off some steam. Danny was going to meet me during his break, but some delivery got screwed up and he had to run out. So it was just me. I didn’t think I’d see you here. I figured it was the last place you’d go.”

  She turned to face him. Her eyes glittered with tears for a second before she turned and walked toward her apartment.

  Brian’s fingertips tingled where he’d wanted to run them over her cheek and soothe away that look of sadness. He stepped back and searched the bar window for Neil, who was nowhere to be found. Maybe Miss Giggles had gotten lucky, or maybe Neil was in the john, but either way, Brian didn’t have time to stick around and find out.

  Amber was already pushing the corner when he caught up with her.

  She shot him a scathing glance and kept walking. “What are you doing out here?”

  “Amber, look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin your night. I want to make sure you get home, okay? The way you look right now, it’s probably not a good idea for you to be walking alone.” She had on tight grey Capri pants that hugged her ass in a way that told the story of someone who ran religiously. With every breeze, his shirt billowed open, revealing the soaked little baby tee that cropped off at just about the bottom of her ribs and left a sexy expanse of flat abdomen for the casual observer’s viewing pleasure. With all that skin and swell, there was no way he could let her walk home alone.

  “That’s awfully noble of you, Brian, but I don’t need your help.”

  “Well, do you want me to call Eric to come and get you?”

  “What the hell? Eric is probably off banging some intern tonight. Even if he’s not, no, the last thing I want is you calling him. And not that it’s any of your damn business, but Eric isn’t here because Eric and I are not together.” She finished, jutting her chin at him.

  He took a long stride and grabbed her arm, pulling her even with him. “What do you mean you aren’t together? Tonight? Or at all anymore?”

  “At all. What’s wrong with you? Why do you care?”

  He shouldn’t care. It shouldn’t matter if she was single or not. He knew she was a cheater and she’d made one out of him. She wasn’t the kind of girl he wanted to know much about. But he couldn’t help the way she was ruling his mind, which made him all the angrier. “Actually, screw that. I don’t care.”

  “I didn’t think so. Here’s your shirt back. Take a hike.”

  She pulled the oversized shirt off, tossed it back to him and stomped off.

  He would have loved to take a hike. To get as far away from those perfect tits and jewel-hard nipples pointing through her shirt, as he could. Remove himself from temptation. God knew that any poor bastard who wanted to have a try at Amber tonight would be lucky to get away with his life. But of course, he couldn’t do it. She would be inside her apartment with the door locked before he’d walk away.

  “I’m walking you home, then I will gladly take a hike.”

  “Ah, his chivalry extends beyond fucking in public and then dumping at the nearest street corner.”

  Blood rushed up his neck and into his head. “That is bullshit and you know it. You started that in the club and I
’m pretty sure you loved every damn second of it as much as I did. And as for the street corner, you ended it there. Eric showing up must have been a bit of a surprise. How’d you manage to explain me away? Oh, wait, you aren’t together anymore. That why you’re out alone tonight? Looking for another dick to fill your void?”

  “You’re a prick. I don’t need to go out to get stuffed, asshole. And as phenomenal a fuck as you are, that’s all you’re good for. I’ve got a dildo as big as you and it’s a lot less complicated.”

  She shouldn’t have told him that. It was information he shouldn’t have. His mind flooded with images of her kneeling on the floor, legs spread, her wet pussy taking in a giant rod. His chest got tight and he felt all that boiling blood in his neck plummet to his cock. They were at the sidewalk stairs to her building. He grabbed her by the arm, spun her around to face him.

  “You were a fantasy, Brian. One rock hard fantastic fantasy. But the reality of you isn’t so attractive.” She tried to yank her arm out of his grasp, but her statement had shocked him and he held firm.

  “That’s what this was about, Amber? Some high school crush…some old fantasy? That’s what you said, right? Did you feel like the prom queen fucking me?”

  Her eyes smoldered as he held her there, a subtle smile curving at the corners of her mouth. He tightened his grip on her arm and pulled her a step closer. Her breath caught as she pushed ineffectually against him, her eyes flashing anger and something more. “Fuck the prom queen. It was better than that.”

  The overhead streetlamp cast a yellow cone of illumination over them, enough light for Brian to see every ridge and bump of her nipple through the damp shirt. God help him, but he reached out and grazed her nipple with the pad of his thumb, pushing his palm roughly up against the bottom curve, squeezing it hard.

  Amber sucked in her breath and then let it out with a slow hiss, leaning in to his grasp. “Damn you.”

  He trapped the erect nub between his fingers, rolling it tightly as he rubbed his thumb back and forth against it. She looked like she was going to come on the spot, and then kill him within seconds. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip. “So I’m good for a fuck?”

 

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