The past few months while she was down in Mexico, the empty hole in my chest had gotten bigger, and took up a larger cut in my life. It was probably a warning.
I watched as the door closed behind LeVan, bracing myself for the onslaught that’d soon come from Sly.
“I’ll give you one thing,” he said, voice level.
I didn’t take much from his tone. We were performers. We could be pissed off, drunk, sick, or any number of things, and our real moods wouldn’t show. I’d bet if I turned and looked at him, I’d get a better feel for what he really thought. Once I saw his eyes. I just wasn’t sure if I wanted to do that.
“She sure as hell is gorgeous. I mean, shit, Mac. You went and found a girl who looks like a bona fide angel—complete with the name. Plus, she’s rich as fuck, just like you. Must make it a little easier, knowing she’s only after your dick and not your money.”
That got me to turn around.
The look in Sly’s icy blue eyes was hot and angry, just as I expected.
Closing one hand into a fist, I kept myself where I was, instead of popping him one in the throat and shoving him back up against the nearest wall. I was six foot four. Sly topped out at five foot ten. But his shorter stature had only made him meaner. It was growing up on the streets that made him mean and wily. The few times we’d gotten into knock-down, drag-out fights, we’d come up close to even. He was ferocious when backed into a corner, or with any kind of confrontation. Right now, neither of us was looking to do too much damage, but if he kept talking about Angel, all bets might just be coming off the table.
“You need to take a step back,” I said gruffly. “I know you’re mad. You’re worried about me because we’re friends. But you need to back off.”
“Why? You sure as hell didn’t.” Sly had his arms crossed over his chest as he glared at me. “Shit, Mac. How in the hell do you know your old man didn’t set up this whole thing?”
“She didn’t even know who I was,” I snapped.
“That could be what she wanted you to think,” he fired back. “Shit, are you still that naïve? I can’t believe it’s possible, but you didn’t even make her get a paternity test.”
“That’s because the baby’s mine. I know she is.”
“She…” He blew out a breath. “Fuck, you’re already spinning fairy tales in your head. I don’t get it, Mac. Why are you being so stupid?”
“Why are you always such an asshole?”
“Because we got a good thing going here and I don’t want it getting fucked up because some blonde turns out to be good in bed! You’ve got that look in your eyes—you might as well have a hook in your mouth. It’s as bad as LeVan, but at least he knew Thea.” Sly looked disgusted. He turned away, shaking his head as he paced over to the window, bracing his hands on the ledge and staring outside. “What are you even picturing here, Mac? The two of you all nice and cozy in that penthouse suite you got? Going to put a baby’s bed under the stairs that lead up to your weight room? And what if she doesn’t want to stay in Vegas?”
“We’ll get all of that worked out,” I said shortly. “We, as in Angel and I.”
She’d stay. She’d already said she liked it here. Besides, she just wanted to teach. She could be a teacher anywhere. My job was here. It didn’t have to be complicated.
“You’ve seriously got stars in your fucking eyes over this girl.” Sly looked back at me. “But life ain’t as neat as all that, buddy. And here I was thinking that you had at least that figured out.”
Thea answered the door, a bright grin on her face. It faded after a moment when she reached out, putting a hand on my arm. “Are you okay, Mac?” she asked softly.
“I’m fine. I’m here for Angel.”
I had no doubt she was still with Thea—Thea was organized to a tee. She would’ve let me know if Angel had left.
“Of course. Come on in. We’re starting dinner. I kind of figured Sly would still be at it…putting you through the wringer like he does.” Thea grimaced. “Are you okay? Got any flesh wounds I should know about?”
“No.”
She eyed me appraisingly then nodded. “Let me go get Angel, then.”
A moment later, Angel was back in the entryway.
I held out a hand. “Are you ready?”
“We can stay for dinner, if you want. Thea said Nick and LeVan wouldn’t mind.”
She gave me a sweet smile and part of me was tempted to say yes. We could stay. Maybe we should’ve stayed. I could use something that felt normal. But a part of me still heard Sly’s questions, like how I’d fit a baby into my current life.
A part of me wanted her to get a firsthand look at what my life was like.
Tonight, LeVan was performing. I’d take her to the show. Take her backstage. Show her a lot of things. Then I’d take her to bed and later we’d talk and see if she understood what she was getting herself into. Of course, I’d have to ask her to come here. I didn’t see what the big deal was. Angel and I couldn’t be any more compatible—or combustible—and we were getting along just fine.
But we left Thea anyway.
A few minutes later, inside the elevator, I said, “I called the front desk. They said you already checked yourself into a room here.”
She glanced my way, then back at the door. “Yes.”
“You don’t need to. You can stay with me.”
Her cheeks went pink. “That’s…well, I don’t know. Let’s see how the next day or so goes.”
I nodded, half expecting that answer. Then, as the doors opened, I followed her out. But instead of escorting Angel to my door, I caught her arm and turned her, nudging her back up against the wall. It was covered with thin, silver pinstripes, something I’d picked out when I first moved in. The pattern was echoed inside the room, complemented by the white, black and red furniture and accents. Most of my life before leaving home was spent surrounded by rich brown earth tones or soft, sweet pastels. I’d told the interior designer to stay the hell away from those. This was what she’d come up with.
I didn’t care for it, but I didn’t hate it either.
Angel, framed by the pinstripes, made the décor look more tolerable.
She made everything seem a little better.
“I don’t care what room we stay in, but you should know I don’t plan on keeping my hands off of you.”
She rested her palms on my chest. “I hadn’t decided if I’ll let you do that again.” From under her lashes, she added, “But I’ll be sure to let you know if that changes.”
Like hell she’d let me know.
This was all mine for the taking.
“Fair enough.” Bending forward, I closed my mouth over hers, already hungry for her.
She met me, rising on her toes, her lips molded to mine, her tongue slipping out to tangle, toy and taunt me as we kissed. I’d gone my entire life without a woman like Angel. I was glad as fuck that she’d shown up that night back in the summer to change things.
15
Angel
Two days into my stay with Mac, I realized something crucial.
I was falling for this guy in the worst way.
Christmas was just around the corner. I still hadn’t made plans to go visit my parents—or tell them. If it weren’t for the niggling sense of guilt, I would’ve enjoyed just spending the entire holiday break letting Mac keep me here around Las Vegas. Today, he set aside time to show me things in this town that as a lightweight tourist, I’d have missed.
Like the pinball hall of fame.
We spent half a day there. I kicked ass on some of the games I grew up playing before most of the arcades around my home closed down. Visiting that place helped me decide I was going to design a games room that had pinball machines for Bump once she was older. Every child should have a chance to play pinball. I planned to talk to my parents about the kids’ club they supported. They could help build another wing onto it—one that’d be dedicated to games for younger kids. I could help pick them out. I wanted it
to have at least a couple of pinball machines.
We played miniature golf and laser tag after, and Mac noticed me as I wistfully eyed the roller coaster.
“You like those things?” Mac asked, catching sight of the look on my face.
“Love them,” I said. “I always come to Vegas with my friend Tamika, who hates them, so I haven’t been able to ride any here yet. I don’t like doing it alone…there’s no fun in that.”
Mac put his hand on my belly and nuzzled my throat. “After the baby, we’ll ride them together.”
I shivered at the feel of his lips on my throat.
Turning my head, I caught his mouth, kissing him for the first time since those hot, torrid moments in his suite that first day. He told me he’d try to talk me into it, but I kept my distance, not sure if it was a good idea to spend too much time naked with him until we’d talked things out.
We hadn’t done any of that, but I couldn’t stand the thought of not kissing him, not touching him.
Sliding my hands under the hem of the Metallica t-shirt he wore, I scraped my nails over his skin. He shuddered, deepening the kiss.
I wanted more…needed it.
But.
The big but.
I still had no idea what we were, what we’d do, how he’d factor into Bump’s life.
Pulling back, I met his eyes.
“We’re kind of in public, aren’t we?”
“Yeah.” Folding his hand over mine, he guided me away from the roller coaster and back into the madness that was the New York New York Casino. Once we were back out on the strip, we headed down the street toward Casino Torrid. Adorned with round pillars of black glass containing hints of purple and green that shone through, the casino he owned with his friends was sleek, subtly seductive and mysterious, just as they’d intended.
We paused at the Bellagio, watching as the fountains started their perfectly scheduled dance.
“What’s going on with us, Mac?” I asked softly.
He didn’t pretend. He understood. “I think we’re in the process of figuring that out, Angel. I like you. A lot. And I can honestly admit there aren’t many people I’ve been able to say that about.” Crooking a grin down at me, he reached up to cup my face. With his thumb pressed lightly to my lower lip, he added, “And I want you like nothing else. You’re like a fever in my blood, woman.”
“What about the baby?”
His eyes heated.
He’d left the sunglasses back at the hotel, securing his hair in a band tied low on his neck instead of a disguise. And now, with nothing separating me from the pale, perfect beauty of his soft green eyes, I felt like he could see straight through me.
“The baby…” he murmured, his voice a rolling growl. Placing a hand on my belly, he rubbed a slow circle around it. Bump responded with a sturdy kick against his palm. “My baby. I want to be a part of her life, Angel. Of your life. We’ve got time to figure all of that out.”
Mac kissed me again and my knees went weak. I had to clutch at his shoulders to keep myself upright. He ended up bracing me against him with one arm wrapped around my waist. By the time the kiss was over, I was shaking due to the waves of tension that disintegrated and fell away from me.
I needed that.
Had to hear precisely that.
From him.
And he finally said it, exactly the words I’d been aching for since the day I found out I was pregnant.
That urgent need was probably hardwired into every human female from the second conception takes place.
Hell, I was ready to climb up his body and wrap myself around him now.
This time it was Mac who brought the kiss to an end. He did so with an abruptness that left me staggering. It was compounded by how quickly he caught my hand and started to walk. “We need to stop this,” he muttered, almost as much to himself as to me, it seemed.
He came to a halt at the curb, but only for a second. I had just managed to orient myself when he started walking again—this time, right into the street to a taxi cab that screeched to a halt for him. Mac barked out an address, then pulled me to sit on his lap as I got inside.
I needed him too much to care about how it looked.
Needed him too much to give a damn that he’d pulled me up to straddle him. And now my dress was up around my thighs, and he had his hands on my ass underneath it.
“Sir, this address…”
Mac didn’t respond to the taxi driver right away.
“Sir?”
“What?” Mac raked his teeth down my neck, leaving a stinging sensation in his wake.
“It’s forty-five minutes away. Would you like to know the fare first?”
“No. Just drive.”
“Where are we going?” I asked weakly, curling my arms around his neck.
“Someplace I can be alone with you.” He tugged me in closer and through my panties, I felt the thrust of his cock. The pressure was so sweet, I thought I might die. “Whatever happens is up to you, but I want it to be just you…and me.”
Forty-five minutes passed by in a sensual blur, his hands stroking over me, his lips marking me. I wasn’t a passive observer in the game, either. For every caress he gave, I returned it. With every kiss he placed on my flesh, I gave him one as well. We were both panting by the time the cabbie came to a stop and told us the fare.
Mac had slid me around, nudging me up against the back of the seat at some point and now, gasping for air, I looked up and saw a faint leer in the eyes of the driver.
Mac saw something, too. “You want to keep your job, you’ll forget everything you saw,” he warned. He tossed bills down. I saw hundreds. Several of them.
The cabbie must have taken note as well, because he bobbed his head, grinning like a lunatic that the tip was far bigger than the fare. “Yes, sir. You got it. I don’t even remember coming out here.”
The drive itself had passed in a heated blur, but the time it took for Mac to get us out of the car and up to the door dragged on. It didn’t help that the two of us couldn’t seem to keep our hands off each other, or that the path to the house seemed to meander on forever. He paused at an elaborate, wrought iron gate that he had to unlock using a digital passcode on a keypad that was so well hidden, I didn’t even notice it. Granted, my mouth was busy learning the terrain of his shoulders and my fingers were searching out the ripples and planes of his back.
He shuddered and groaned when I toyed with his waistband. The second the gate swung open, he spun us around and pressed me back up against the rough texture of brick wall that the gate was attached to. “You’re going to drive me over a cliff, mon ange,” he mumbled, the French words low and throaty and raw.
Something about the phrase tugged at a memory, but I couldn’t place it. Then I didn’t care. Rising up on my toes, I curled my arms around his neck and arched closer. I could feel the hard ridge of his cock pressed against me. And the scent of him, the feel of him, all of it was a drug, one that left me feeling empty and aching inside the longer I went without a hit.
He cupped me in his hand and began to rub, the heel of his hand grinding lightly against my clit. “You need to stop,” he said.
“You’re the one who practically has his hands in my panties,” I accused, head falling back as he slid his lips up, then down.
“Practically…” He laughed, the sound low and husky. “Let’s fix that.”
Gasping, I arched closer in mounting desire as he thrust two fingers deep inside my pussy, then pulled out. He did it again, scissoring them wide before withdrawing. Over and over again, he did it, using his thumb to flick against my clit and he teased me right up to the edge.
And then he stopped.
Moaning, I tried to clench my thighs tight around his hand as he went to withdraw.
“No,” he growled. “Each time I’ve taken you, it’s been rough or half-crazed. I’m going to have you in my bed, dammit. In my house, in my bed. Now.”
He pulled back, waiting. I was shivering, chill
ed by the lack of his warmth in a way I hadn’t been earlier. Mac folded his hand over mine and led me up the walk. I was too drunk on him to argue now, my body still hovering on the knife’s edge of desire and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could handle going without having him inside me.
A bed the size of a small lake spread out under the windows that stretched from one end of the wall to the other.
Mac had swept me up into his arms at the foot of the steps. After crossing the room to that massive mountain of mattress, pillows and comforters, he lowered me onto it.
I reached for him but he didn’t cover me.
Not right away.
He braced one knee on the bed and grasped my right ankle, unlacing the ties that held my sandals in place. One thing about Nevada in December…I could dress like it was June back home. He stripped away one sandal, then the other before adjusting his position and kneeling over me. With his eyes focused on his task, he undid each button that held my dress closed. It had a high waist, one that flattered my breasts and hips without drawing much attention to the increasing swell of my belly.
Mac’s eyes had heated with appreciation when he saw me that morning. Now as he used one hand to open the now unbuttoned material, his eyes weren’t heated—they were molten, pale green pools of liquid fire. When he bent his dark head over my breasts, I pushed my hands into his hair. The hairband prevented me from tangling my fingers in the long strands as I wanted, so I sought it out and tore it free, sighing in pleasure as the cool, silken strands fell across and over me.
“I think I like taking your clothes off,” he murmured, his lips tracing the skin above the lacy edge of my bra. “It’s like unwrapping a present.”
I shivered a little more.
His tongue slid out to follow the trail his mouth had taken and I groaned, tugging his body closer. Or trying to. He wouldn’t cooperate, really. I ended up curling my arms around his neck in an attempt to draw him in tight. But he still held himself steady over me, body balanced on arms with muscles hard as stone bulging out.
Ruin Me: Vegas Knights Page 10