He thrust harder, deeper. But the pace was just as slow, causing me to hiss out a breath from the impact. Shaking, I clutched at him.
He kissed me again, and the taste of him just added to the spell he’d managed to cast on my body every time he touched me.
A warm, callused hand slid down my spine, pausing at the dip in my waist before he caught my butt and palmed it, owning me as he lifted me into his thrusts.
“You’re going to come soon.” His words were not a suggestion, but a firm command.
My belly was already tight, my limbs shaking.
“That’s your fault.”
He laughed.
Then he stopped. “You wanted me to make it last.”
I cried out when he withdrew.
“You wanted it to last,” he said again.
A few minutes later, we were in the shower stall with hot water pulsing down around us. Mac turned me to face the wall, guiding my hands to the knee-high bench. He drove into me then, all pretense at teasing gone.
My moan echoed off the walls, mixing in with the deeper rumble of his voice. If it weren’t for his hands steadying me, I might have already collapsed. But that solid, steady grip kept me upright, and I locked my elbows to keep my arms from giving out under me.
His cock swelled and throbbed, the head scraping over my G-spot. And with each stroke, he pulled out to slide over my clit before entering me again.
My heart lurched up into my throat.
I couldn’t breathe.
He whispered my name and I wanted to turn to him, to really see him, but at the same time, I couldn’t stand to pull away, couldn’t stand to stop this.
My orgasm hit hard and fast, knocking me flat. But just when I thought I’d collapse, Mac slid powerful arms around my waist.
“No…” he murmured, guiding my torso upright as he pushed up into me, his movements slower, easier. “Not yet. You can come again. I can feel it. Let me.”
I shook my head. Even in my haziness, I wasn’t sure. No man that I met for a one-night stand should ever get to know my body so well. Mac was too good. Already he could read my capacity for more climaxes?
That was too much power.
Enough to make me addicted to him.
Enough to ruin me.
“Yes,” he insisted.
He slid one hand up my torso, palms over my breast. Then he pinched my nipple. “You’re so hot, Angel. I can feel how wet you are…it’s all over me. I want to lick all that up and taste you. You can come again…”
He dirty talked me right back to the edge, rocked and stroked and teased me.
And when that wasn’t enough to push me over, he slid his fingers down between my thighs and toyed with my clit, alternating between fast and slow circles that caused my core to tighten and raised goosebumps on my skin. I alternated between hot and cold chills, clamping down around him until it almost hurt.
He groaned, the noise vibrating from his body into mine, while his movements became shorter, more determined. His cock was hard enough to bruise.
I came again.
This time, it felt like it’d never end.
He’d been holding back, and I knew the second he stopped because he started to pound me mercilessly.
Harder, faster, as though saying, “Remember this.”
I planned to.
Water still cascaded down around us.
Blinking, I shoved my hair out of my face and pushed at his chest.
I didn’t remember him moving around and pulling me onto his lap. But then again, things got cloudy after getting up to such a dizzying peak—that almost unending, intense climax.
If it wasn’t for the fact that the multiple jets in the shower stall were spraying just above my face, I might have been happy to sit there until there was no water left. Or at least until I could move without worrying my legs would fold underneath me.
That was a distinct possibility, but I was also getting waterlogged.
“I’m drowning,” I said, wiping the water from my face. Mac’s arm fell from my waist, and I stood. When my legs buckled, I giggled, bracing a hand on his shoulder. He caught my wrist and tugged my hand away as he eased me upright. Kissing my hand, he slid his arm around my waist.
“More waterworks than I’m used to, I’ve gotta say.” He brushed my hair back from my face before turning the water off. “I’m going to…”
His words trailed off as he looked down between us, so I glanced up to find him staring at the tiled floor of the shower stall.
A frown darkened his face.
Looking down, I followed the direction of his eyes.
It didn’t take much to figure out what he was staring at and my heart jumped as I saw what it was that held his attention.
“Well, shit,” Mac said, his voice so full of disgruntlement it almost made me laugh.
But it was kind of hard to find this amusing.
After all, I was staring down at the condom he’d put on.
And it was clearly not on now—at least, not on him.
No, it lay on the floor of the shower stall.
Busted and ripped.
With a gaping tear.
“I take it that didn’t break after you took it off.”
His pale green eyes came to meet mine. “No.”
6
Mac
Shoulders braced against the wall, I watched the crowd as they came into the pub. I had no idea how I got here or why I came.
Subconsciously, I knew.
I was looking for Angel.
She was still checked into the hotel. Not that I abused my authority by searching the hotel guest database to find out or anything.
Okay, maybe I did.
She was checking out tomorrow morning. Some part of me was waiting for her, hoping to see her again. There was no reason for it. Last night was a one-time thing. On top of that, we’d talked about the issue with the rubber, and neither of us walked away with concerns.
That fucking condom.
Fragile fucker that couldn’t withstand the onslaught of pleasure I delivered to Angel’s body and what she did to mine.
She told me she was clean. I believed her. I made a living out of reading people’s body language. Angel didn’t have the face of someone who told lies. I doubted she could get the same sort of peace of mind about me. She didn’t have the background I did when it came to human behavior, but it wasn’t like I’d lie about something like that. Of course, plenty of assholes would lie. But I told her she didn’t have anything to worry about. Then I asked if she was taking the pill. The last thing I needed was to find out that my fucked up genes might be passed on to some unsuspecting kid. Even if Angel seemed sweet enough to balance it all out, I wasn’t taking that chance.
She assured me she was most certainly on the pill.
Then, as an uncomfortable silence settled, I gathered my shit and gotten the hell out.
I didn’t even make it to my suite on the top level before I realized what an asshole I was.
Shit happened, right?
I should’ve at least said something to her, give her a phone number to call. Something.
But what number could I leave her with?
The hotel front desk’s?
My agent’s?
I could give her mine, but I answered that about as often as I answered my email. Which was never. My assistant, Leonard, handled those details, and he was about as mean and angry as a rattlesnake someone stepped on.
I could just imagine him taking a call from a woman I had sex with if it ever turned out that a condom had proven to be…problematic.
He’d tell her to go fuck herself, in all probability. If I were lucky, he’d be reasonably polite but get our lawyers on it behind the scenes. He’d even go so far as arranging to check the paternity before things went too far. Leonard was the most cynical and cranky son of a bitch I’d ever met—but he was loyal to the core. That was why I hired him. But he was definitely not the person I wanted talking to Angel if
…if…
Even thinking about the possibility made my gut twist.
I went by her room twice already. Nobody answered either time. At one point, I even kept watch from the sofa near the elevators on her floor, determined to wait for her. And I did for well over half an hour.
Then the elevator dinged on her floor. I practically bolted up off the sofa at the sound of a woman’s laugh, my mind imagining all sorts of crazy scenarios. A couple tumbled out of the elevator. A laughing, giggling brunette with her arms wrapped around the guy.
It wasn’t even her.
Something about Angel was making me lose my mind, and it wasn’t like my sanity was all that stable to begin with.
Checking my watch, I blew out a breath. Earlier today, I cut into practice time waiting for her as I went all stalker dude, camped out in the hallway on her penthouse level.
Now, with an hour left before my show started, instead of going over everything and prepping with my team, checking my gear and doing all the last-minute safety prep like I should’ve been doing, I was looking for a woman who was nowhere to be found.
“You’re being an idiot,” I said gruffly under my breath.
Dropping my gaze to the envelope I held in my hand, I studied it.
“Hey, boss.”
Kathy Fowler, one of the best bartenders we’d ever hired, came to a stop next to me. I didn’t know every employee by name. I think we employed around a thousand, give or take. Knowing them all would be impossible. But when my partners and I decided to make a go of things with this hotel, the three of us agreed on reaching out to Kathy. She helped Sly get his first break. And later on, she spent a lot of time helping him get sober and clean. We met him here in Vegas when LeVan and I made our way into town. Kathy was a solid support system for Sly when I threatened to drag him back down with me into the pit of overall bad behavior.
Instead, she kept us away from trouble. She and Sly kept me from slipping.
“You remember the blonde from last night?” I asked her.
“The one who had you all but drooling?”
I gave her a flat look. “I wasn’t that bad. I never drool.”
“You were staring.” She shrugged. “For you, that’s practically drooling. But yes, I remember her.”
“I was kind of waiting around for her.” The admission had me rattled. Blood rushed to my cheeks as Kathy narrowed her eyes on my face thoughtfully.
“Were you really?” She grinned at me, looking ridiculously happy for some stupid reason. She looked almost as pleased as she did when we gave her and her husband tickets to Hawaii for their anniversary this past Christmas.
“If you’re going to be a pain in the ass, I’ll just stop telling you shit,” I warned her.
“Oh, please.” She mimed zipping her lips. Two seconds later, a laugh escaped and she turned to face me, rising up on her toes and cupping my face. “This is adorable, Mac. And so encouraging to see! The big, brooding loner is all tongue-tied over the busty blonde who’s been hanging out in my bar all week. You should’ve come by to see her earlier.”
She gave me a tight embrace and smacked a kiss on my cheek, settling back flat on her feet. Kathy and her husband never got the memo about personal space. If he were around right now, he’d probably kiss me on the cheek too. I wasn’t one for physical touch at the best of times, so blood rose to my cheeks. I could feel it, but if I gave in to the embarrassment, Kathy would only continue.
“She was here already today?” Calm. Casual. That’s the ticket.
“Oh, no.” Flapping a hand at me, Kathy shrugged. “Not today. She’s been in almost every day for the past week or so. She goes to the casinos, I think. A few days ago, she mentioned that she won almost a grand on the slots, then lost it all on blackjack.” She grinned at me again. “And it wasn’t at our hotel casino. She doesn’t gamble where she’s staying. Says it’s a quirk. For luck or something.”
“I don’t gamble where I’m staying either, and I’m one of the owners.”
Kathy rolled her eyes. “True. It’s your money anyway.”
“Not all mine.” I wanted to drag the answers out of her about Angel, but knew better, so I waited.
“But no, she hasn’t been in today. And I know for sure she’s going home tomorrow. Her friend was in earlier and mentioned it, left a nice fat tip for me and said thanks.” Kathy patted her hip pocket. “You should’ve made your move earlier, Casanova.”
“Smart-ass.” I turned to go. Then, abruptly, I stopped and held out the envelope. “In case she comes in. I need to head backstage and start getting ready. But if she comes in, give her this for me. It’s tickets for her and her friend.”
Kathy accepted the envelope and tapped it against her palm. “Sure thing, boss.” She narrowed her eyes shrewdly. “You go months, sometimes years without noticing women exist, then all of a sudden, you’re all but stalking this one. You never do anything in moderation, do you?”
“Wouldn’t know how to.” I managed to smile, then turned to go.
With one last look around the bar, I blew out a breath. It was possible she could show up later tonight. If she did, Kathy would give her the tickets, talk her into coming.
But I had a feeling Kathy was right.
I’d waited too long to make a move.
7
Angel
Something that felt like pain clenched my heart.
But it couldn’t be that.
I mean…how could I be hurt just because I saw Mac talking to another woman?
Sure, we were wrapped around each other not even twelve hours ago, I could still hear the rough, sexy murmur of his voice in my ear, the scraping feel of his rough hands stroking down my arms.
But we didn’t know each other.
We’d had sex.
Hot, crazy, addictive, but impersonal sex.
There was no reason for me to feel like someone was dragging my heart from my chest just because he was talking to another woman, his head bent down to her level, with a smile on his lips.
No reason to feel slighted about the very clear intimacy between them, especially when she reached up and cupped his face. He was grinning at her as she hugged him tight, then pulled his face close and kissed him quick and hard on the cheek.
Lingering in the shadows near the side exit of the bar, I rubbed my hand over my chest and told myself I was being stupid. It didn’t matter who he spoke to, held, or kissed. Sure, it felt oddly…right when he’d kissed me so passionately, but that was different.
I wanted a fling.
And that’s what I got.
Turning away, I slipped out of the bar and walked around until I found one of the many winding, turning hallways that eventually led to the lobby, the odd and mesmerizing focal point of this luxurious hotel. From there, I’d head up to my room. Maybe order room service. With ice cream and whiskey—
“No,” I said to myself, shaking my head. No whiskey. I had to fly tomorrow, and that was never that much fun for me. I was better off staying sober tonight. So…ice cream, a movie, and a good brood.
Just before turning down the hall, I glanced back toward the bar.
I was tempted to go back and talk to him, just one more time.
But at the same time, I realized it was probably better if I didn’t. My mouth had a mind of its own sometimes. Chances were, I’d end up asking him about the woman. Then things would dissolve, and one of the most sensual experiences of my life would end up tarnished.
That would ruin the memory.
I really, really didn’t want that to happen.
Last night was too good for regrets.
“So…just how hot was he?” Tamika leaned toward me, her coffee in one hand, a bagel in the other. Her face was pure mischief, her dark brown eyes so full of wicked humor it was impossible not to smile back.
With a laugh, I said, “He was…” My heart raced faster for a few seconds as images of Mac taking me hard flashed into my mind. “So seriously sexy. Edible, even.”
“Keep your voice down.” Rolling my eyes, I glanced around to make sure no one had sat down near us. We were still alone, mostly. We’d picked a fairly early flight out of Las Vegas, to Tamika’s horror, but I needed to get back home, re-pack, and go over everything before I left my hometown the following night for Mexico.
And I needed to have one last dinner with my family.
Something they planned.
Again.
So they could try and talk me out of my trip.
Again.
They texted me twice to ask if they could maybe join us in Las Vegas. It would be fun!
My staid, polite mother, walking the strip with me in Vegas. Yes, that sounded so much like the opposite of fun. And if she’d been there when I met Mac?
My face heated at the thought.
“Honey, if you could see your face right now…” Tamika made a little hum in her throat and shook her head. “You look like you got caught with your hand—hell, your whole damn body in the cookie jar. Only it wasn’t a cookie jar. It was a hot, delicious piece of man-flesh by the name of Mac. And you weren’t in him—he was in you.”
“What are you, twelve?” I demanded, leaning back in my seat. “Shhh, for God’s sake.”
“Physically, no.” She gave me an easy smile. “Emotionally and mentally, most likely yes, and I’ll happily stay that way. I made that decision the first time I spent the night at your house, and your mother fussed with you for wearing polka dot socks because your shirt had stripes.” Tamika was in the process of cutting off her bagel and she paused to wave her butter knife at me. “See, this is the problem with certain types of rich people, Angel. Now I love and adore you, and I’ve even come to love your parents.”
“They like you, too, Tamika.” It was one thing that I never questioned. My best friend, from a solid middle class, salt of the earth family, had charmed my parents from the beginning. Of course, she told my mother that she smelled like a rose garden, then she informed my dad he looked like James Bond, the really cute one from a long, long time ago. Sean Connery was the actor my father pointed out as he agreed with her wholeheartedly. He probably fell for her right then and there—Dad was really into the classics. But Tamika was something of a steamroller even as a kid, and my parents didn’t quite know how to handle her.
Ruin Me: Vegas Knights Page 4