Drop Everything Now

by Thomas, Alessandra

  “Oh, shit,” I said, suddenly feeling how very real this game could get.

  “No, no, it’s okay. Most people don’t know, but it’s not like a big secret.”

  I pushed my eyebrows up and tried to give him a sympathetic look, despite my numbing face.

  “Actually,” he said, pulling at his shirt collar in a way that made me want to do it, too. “It was a few years back now. And I didn’t break up with her, she broke up with me. And it hurt so bad I haven’t dated anybody seriously since.”

  “You haven’t…wow,” I said, shocked that this beautiful specimen of a man hadn’t been in a relationship since then. Then it hit me. “But you’ve been with people since then, right?”

  He shrugged, looking down at the ground. “Once in a while. Here and there. Having to get tested to make sure I was clean after every one got old fast. Girls here… They’re rarely the type of girl I would take home to my mom, you know?”

  I wanted, suddenly, to wrap my arms around his waist, nuzzle my face into his neck, and tenderly kiss away anything that had hurt him. Then I realized that if he didn’t do one-night stands, he probably didn’t get cozy with girls he’d only known for 48 hours either.

  “But,” he said, leaning forward and drinking again, “you’re different. I mean, it’s not like you came from another planet or something, but there’s just something about you. Something that makes me want to spend my one night off playing kid games and doing cheesy Vegas stuff with you.”

  Boldness surged through me again. “We can make it a little less kid-game-like,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

  His eyebrow went up. “It’s your turn. Truth or dare?”

  “Truth,” I said without hesitation. Something about the way his eyes burned into mine made me want to share everything about myself with him, even the stuff I kept tamped deep down because I’d spent my whole damn life trying to be appreciative of what I had, trying to be the girl I was supposed to be, trying not to be a bother. I’d spent so much time trying to give to others that, on a cold Vegas night with too much rum and sugar coursing through my system, I wanted to give to myself. I wanted, for once, to reach out and grab what I wanted and not relinquish it for anything.

  But his question wasn’t exactly the one I wanted. “What attracts you to someone?”

  “Like, to a guy?” He nodded. “I haven’t really dated in a long time, and even then, the guy wasn’t anything special. I liked him because he liked me, you know? Most guys never show a bit of interest.”

  “I don’t believe that for a second,” he said. “You are absolutely gorgeous and, as far as I can tell, fun to be around. And you can cook.”

  My neck flushed with heat. I wanted to keep the sound of him calling me “gorgeous” in my head forever. “I don’t really go out, you know? Between my classes and my internship and the general grossness and immaturity of college guys, it’s hard to meet someone.”

  His deep green eyes didn’t break contact with mine. “You didn’t answer my question,” he said.

  “Um,” I said, biting my lip. “I guess what attracts me to a guy is looks, obviously. Just like any other girl.”

  “What kind of looks?” he said, leaning back nonchalantly and taking his drink with him. “Because you are not just any other girl.”

  I gave him a wicked look and leaned in closer. “I really like geeks. You know, the ones who sit inside playing video games all day.” I waited for him to accuse me of joking, but all of a sudden, he started choking, and I leapt out of my chair to go pat him on the back. “What the hell? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  He shook his head. “Just went down the wrong pipe.” He held a napkin to his mouth and coughed one more time. “Anyway, it’s my turn.”

  I gave him a wary look. “Okay,” I said, taking my seat and scooting it closer to him in the process. “Truth or dare?”

  “Another truth,” he said, taking a small sip from his drink. “Because I trust you.” He hadn’t had nearly as much as I had.

  “Aw, dammit! Don’t you know I have to go easy on you when you flatter me?”

  “That might be the idea.”

  “Okay,” I sighed. “What’s your favorite thing about Vegas?” I waited to hear “people watching” or “good money” or even “the weather.”

  But instead, he said, “Nothing. I really don’t like anything about Vegas. But my brother Chris is here, I have a steady job, and…it just makes sense for me to stay. I guess.”

  I gave him the side-eye. “You and your brother are that close? You never mentioned him before.”

  He shook his head with a smile. “Nuh-uh. You’re trying to ask two questions again. My turn. Truth or dare?”

  “Truth,” I said. “I’m letting my feet rest for a little longer before you make me do anything crazy.”

  “Okay,” he said. “What’s your least favorite thing about Vegas? Besides your mom being in the hospital because I already know that.”

  My throat started to ache at the thought of my mom all bruised and bloodied, my empty bank account, how rapidly my classes could go to shit without me there. I forced myself to stay focused. Ryder wanted to bring you out for a fun night. To help you forget. Do not cry into your drink. I swirled my straw around. Finally, I met his eyes again. “My sheets stink.”

  His eyebrows went up. “Really? That’s the worst thing?”

  I laughed. “Yes. Like mold and smoke. I won’t lie—that’s why I fell asleep on your bed last night.”

  “It wasn’t to get closer to me?” His face was dead-serious. Butterflies took over my belly, and heat crept up my neck.

  “Hey, now you’re trying to ask more than one question. If it’s not fair for me, it’s not fair for you. It’s my turn now. Truth or dare?”

  He reached out in front of himself, linking his fingers together and stretching out his arms to crack his knuckles. “Dare. Bring it, Herrera.”

  “Okay,” I said, as a wicked idea took hold. I took a long drink from my straw for some extra oomph. “You have to sit perfectly still for one minute. I’ll set my alarm,” I said, brandishing my phone, “and I can do anything I want to get you to move. But you can’t. Not even a facial expression. Got it?”

  He nodded slowly as a devilish smile spread across his face. Nervous butterflies fluttered around my belly. This was a brand-new kind of bravery for me, and I was pretty sure I liked it.

  Ryder settled himself in an upright position, his arms resting on the thin metal arms of the chair. I stood up and slowly stepped toward him. “Alright, now,” I said, courage buzzing through me. “Remember. Perfectly still.” I hit the timer on my phone, and Ryder froze.

  I didn’t have a second to waste – literally. I glanced down at Ryder’s lower half from my vantage point. Perfect—I had an unobstructed view. I took a deep breath. Might as well go for broke, Andi. I bent over and let my lips brush his ear ever so gently and smiled as he took a hissing breath inward.

  “I’m going to tell you a secret,” I whispered, moving my lips down his neck and feeling him shiver. I grinned and stood up, walking around the back of his chair to whisper in his other ear. “I’m not really happy about the reason I’m back in Vegas, but the second I saw you at the hotel, I knew it wasn’t going to be that bad.” I glanced down at the crotch of his shorts. No discernible change, no obvious filling of the area.

  I didn’t know what was going on with me, but some bravery inside me—added to the alcohol coursing through my bloodstream—really wanted to see if I could get him going, if I could make him want to grab me and kiss me as much as I wanted to jump on him, claw his shirt off, and drag my mouth all over his skin. So I stood up, walked a little further around so I could put my face right in front of his. I leaned forward so that our breath mingled, and as promised, he didn’t make a single facial expression. Just looked, unflinching, back into my eyes. Eve
n though he barely blinked, the way he looked at me right at that moment communicated emotion and pure, raw hunger. So I bent forward, my lips millimeters from his. Desire ran through every one of my limbs, but I kept my arms down at my side. I had to, or else I really would rip all his clothes off.

  As soft as the Nevada breeze whispering against our skin, I brushed my lips against his. A ragged breath dragged back through his teeth. Just that slightest of reactions turned my voice low and sultry. As hungry as his eyes flicking down to my lips.

  “And ever since we first kissed, I’ve been dying to do it again.” My eyes darted down to his shorts, one last time, and now they stretched tight over a long bulge there. An impressively sizable one, at that.

  Just as I’d gotten brave enough to reach my hand up to his face and graze the tips of my fingers along the delicious stubble on his jaw, the alarm on my phone went off, making me jump. As soon as it did, Ryder’s hand darted up to grab my wrist, and his other arm looped around my waist. I was on his lap in a flash, his hard-on pressing into the underside of my thighs and making heat pool between my legs.

  My breaths were quick now, half from the sudden movement and half from anticipation. I wanted to kiss him, but I wanted him to make the first move, to show me what I already knew was true from the firm pressure against my leg. I wanted to hear how badly he wanted me. I wanted to know if it was as badly as I wanted him.

  His breath blew heavy on my face, and the sound of it sent a thrill through me. He still didn’t move his head, though. “It’s your turn,” he breathed. “Truth or dare?”

  I let my mouth drop open the slightest bit. “I…”

  “Say ‘dare,’” he whispered.

  I swallowed hard and took in a shuddering breath. “Dare.”

  He moved his face a millimeter closer, still not daring to touch. One tiny motion and my tongue could be exploring his mouth. He brushed his lips against mine, the barest of movements, teasing me in the same way I had teased him. “Let’s see how quickly we can get kicked out of this café.”

  “Yeah,” I managed with a nod, before the arm he had slung around my waist dipped me down so I was almost horizontal in the air. His other hand fisted in my hair and supported my head as his lips crashed down on mine, desperate, diving in again and again with only desperate gasps in between. I wanted to feel all of him so badly, but at the same time, the way we kissed now, teeth nipping at lips and fingers digging into skin, gave voice to the intense hunger that had been building between us since I saw him.

  When his tongue brushed against my lips, parting them and darting in before leaving again just as quickly, I lost all control. I stood up and resettled myself on his lap so I was straddling him, feeling his hard excitement exactly where I needed it most. The instant he was pressed between my legs, he groaned, pushing the back of my shirt up. The cooling desert breeze caressed the skin of my back. I’d have been surprised if my bra wasn’t showing, and I really didn’t give a shit. I had the upper hand now, and I intended to use it.

  With both palms plastered to the sides of his head, I controlled the depth of our kiss and took full advantage of his open mouth when he gasped for air, pressing in and letting his tongue dance with mine, whimpering when he sucked it into his mouth and responding by pulling his lower lip between my teeth.

  Faintly, I heard an “excuse me, ma’am,” but it didn’t even register as something I needed to pay attention to. I was too caught up in Ryder, in the hard warmth of his muscles pushing my boobs up into gorgeous roundness; of the way he tasted, like clean wetness and citrus and longing. Ryder pulled away from our kiss, trailing his hot open lips down my neck, tasting the spot where it curved away to my shoulder. When his tongue swirled around the inside knob of my collarbone, I couldn’t help it—a whimper escaped. I didn’t see anyone—my eyes were clamped shut—but now several throats cleared around us and a few light “excuse me, ma’ams” peppered the air. But Ryder must not have heard them because his smooth palm moved from my side and traveled up to cup my breast, squeezing it with the most exquisite pain, and—

  “SIR!”

  I sat full upright at that, finally opening my eyes. Eight of the guys in striped shirts and fake moustaches stared at us, arms crossed. A lady in a white shirt and black pants with glasses, who must have been the manager, stood there with a stern expression on her face. Did I see a hint of amusement?

  “Public displays of affection that affectionate are not really allowable in our venue,” she said. “I’m sorry, but perhaps you should go back to your room.”

  Across from us, a man who had to be sixty-five years old chuckled, and his wife reached across their table to swat him with the back of her hand, even though she was obviously trying not to laugh, too.

  Slowly, painfully, I stood from Ryder’s lap, and he stood, too. From the looks of it, it was far more painful for him than it was for me.

  “Yes, of course,” I mumbled. I reached out and gripped Ryder’s hand hard.

  “So sorry about that,” said Ryder, staring at our clasped hands and stifling a grin.

  “Yes, well,” she said, before she waved the workers away and turned to leave herself. “Just do that somewhere else.”

  When they all finally had their backs turned, I let loose a shoulder-shaking giggle. “Dare accomplished,” I said. But my laughter melted away when Ryder’s eyes burned into mine.

  “Do you want to play anymore?” he asked. “Or do you want to do something else?”

  Just say it, Andi. Not having practice with this is no excuse. “I think I want you to take me home,” I said, pushing each word out, syllable by syllable. I stared up at him through my thick eyelashes. “But I’m not tired yet.”

  He nodded and took a step back toward the Strip, and I followed. The whole scene was even more beautiful than before. Every step felt like I was walking on air, and the neon lights melted together in an incredible electronic watercolor. I wanted to live inside this moment—the feeling of Ryder’s big hand gripping mind, the sensation of my nails brushing his skin, the memory of my mouth on his, and the promise of something more delicious to come.

  No, I wasn’t tired yet. And I wasn’t ready to stop what we’d started.

  As we walked, Ryder nudged my shoulder. “So what are you saying?” he asked, laughing. But then his expression turned serious. “Just so we’re clear.”

  Looking up at him while we were walking wasn’t the easiest thing to do, but as we did, the swirliness in my head started to let up. It only intensified how badly I wanted him.

  “I want to go to your place and finish what we started in that café.”

  Chapter 12

  His jaw clenched, and I tried to suppress my smile at how obvious it was that he wanted me badly. It was a total thrill to feel this—wanted by someone I’d just met. Someone strong and beautiful.

  “Let’s speed walk then.”

  I decided I’d never get tired of the low tone of his voice in these moments. When we got to the hotel where he’d parked, I heard him murmur, “Hurry,” to the valet while slipping a twenty into his hand. Something about the command and the money and the urgency sent a thrill right through me, and when he came back to stand beside me, I looped my arm around his waist, dipping my fingers into the front of his shorts. He turned to press his body to mine immediately and brushed my hair back from my face, pressing gentle kisses all over it.

  I wanted to cry that we hadn’t taken a cab. I probably would have straddled him in the backseat and done him right there.

  It was bad enough that his giant silver truck had a full bench seat in the front. The whole ten-minute ride back to our place, I let my nails tease along his shorts, scooting up the bottom a bit with every half-mile. I loved the way the strong muscles of his thighs flexed and strained under my fingertips. When we pulled into the parking lot, tires squealing against the asphalt, he grunted as he got out of the dr
iver’s side, jogged over to my door, threw it open, grabbed my hips, and pulled me to him so that I straddled his waist. His mouth slammed against mine, his tongue parting my lips almost instantly, stroking, needing me, only half-asking if he could have me.

  That was just fine. All he had to do was pay attention to the way I dragged my fingernails over his scalp to get the answer.

  We started walking, and the alcohol made what would have otherwise been jerking movements into the gentle sway of a ship at sea. I tasted every corner of his mouth, savoring the feel of the inside of his lips, of his teeth pulling at mine. I vaguely heard the beep of his car locking and felt him fumble for the key to his place.

  We stumbled inside, and the incredibly homey smell of it was so right that I practically swooned. I wanted to wrap up in it—to wrap up in him and never let go.

  Suddenly, I felt air instead of warmth against my lips, and I was being laid down by strong arms on that fluffy, black duvet. Then he was on top of me, and I almost sighed with relief.

  Between frantic kisses, I managed, “Do you have something?”

  He dipped down, pushing my shirt off over my head, while I did the same with his, and nodded. “But not yet. Not yet.”

  He pushed up on his knees, and it was all I could do not to stretch my arms out and grab for him to come back. But oh my God, that body. If I snapped a shot of him with my camera phone, I could have sold posters and been an instant billionaire. Quit that shitty waitress job without a second thought.

  Maybe next time. This time, that body was all mine. I had big plans to graze my teeth against every last ridge of those abs.

  But Ryder had different plans. “Holy shit, you are so beautiful,” he said, laying his exquisite weight back on top of me, making my head arch back into the pillow as he devoured my neck. His hand grazed down over my shoulder, pulling my upper arm in and pressing my boobs together while his mouth moved down there, too. My bra was a front-closure, and after fumbling at it for a few excruciating seconds with trembling hands, Ryder gave up, and my fingers flew to the enclosure to do it myself. The lacy fabric didn’t even have time to fall away before his tongue lashed inside of it, hunting for my nipple, starving for me.