by Anne Rainey
“Ah, the magic word. Boy, he really knows how to push your buttons.”
Oh he’d pushed buttons all right. And she’d had a delicious orgasm as a result. “Yeah, don’t remind me.”
“So, maybe you go to Vegas. Maybe you see if you can’t make him squirm a little.”
Grace grinned. “I like the way you think.”
“Thanks. Now, can I get back to my book? Rafe just tied Kimberley to the bed.”
“Sure, but I want it when you’re done.”
“Of course.”
They said their goodbyes and hung up. Grace bit off another piece of her chocolate bar and thought about Faith’s words. Make him squirm. Now that’s something she could wrap her mind around.
Chapter Five
“I have nothing to say to you.”
Jackson was more confused than ever. He’d been going insane since he’d tasted her juices. Nothing in his life had prepared him for the sweet flavor of Grace Vaughn. The entire weekend had passed in a blur. His mind had lingered on the feel of Grace’s soft curves, the intoxicating flavor of her arousal. He’d ached to take her, to drive his cock deep, fuck them both into the next damn century. Knowing she’d resent the hell out of him afterwards had caused him to hold back. He needed her to come to him.
As they sat on the plane at the Las Vegas airport waiting to exit, Jackson was at his wits end with Grace’s refusal to speak to him. “What’s your problem? You’ve been silent the entire plane ride.”
“You know what the problem is. Don’t play dumb.”
“You’re pissed I left you the other night, is that it? You think it was easy for me to walk away?”
“I think you’re crazy if you think I’ll ever let you so much as touch me again, much less do anything else on this trip.”
“You would’ve hated me if I’d taken you to bed. You would’ve run so fast in the opposite direction my head would’ve spun. Then where would we be?”
Her gaze remained on the window as she said, “Your biggest problem is that you think you know me so well. You don’t, so stop acting like you do.”
“I know you well enough to know you weren’t ready to sleep with me. You would’ve woken up cursing me. Don’t deny it.”
She swiveled around to face him. At least she wasn’t avoiding him. It was something. “You know what I think? I think you’re the one who’s afraid. I think you like it when I turn you down, because then you don’t have to deal with a woman who can string two words together. It’s easier to date bimbos. There’s no real challenge there.”
“The women I date aren’t bimbos, and you’re purposely steering the conversation away from what’s really bothering you. You wanted me, and I left.”
Grace leaned closer and growled, “I wanted you, yes, but you can’t handle a real woman. You like women who drop at your feet and fawn all over you. I’ve seen them, so don’t deny it. Don’t play the martyr, either. It doesn’t suit you. You left because you got scared.”
Jackson’s anger rose. “You want it all out in the open? Fine, but don’t blame me if it’s more than what you wanted to hear.” He lifted his hand and cupped the back of her head. When she tried to pull away, he held her firmly with a fist full of her soft blonde curls. His whisper was for her ears alone. “Fear isn’t what has my cock rock hard right now. Fear isn’t what rode me the other night, either, baby. I wanted to take you to the floor and fuck you. First I wanted to see you come again so I would have gotten on top of you and watched your pretty blue eyes dilate and your face flush with heat. But then I would have wanted to see your sexy ass. I would’ve flipped you over and fucked you from behind, maybe spanked you a few times for being so goddamn contrary. After we recovered a bit, I would have taken you to the shower and fucked you there too. I want my cock inside of you. Your mouth, your cunt, your ass. I want my come filling you. I left because I wanted you too much.”
Her mouth dropped open and her face turned beet red.
Was she afraid of him now? Shit. This wasn’t at all how things were supposed to go. “I’d never—” He never got to finish what he was about to say because the flight attendant came over the intercom and announced they could exit the plane. Their alone time had just disappeared.
Baggage claim and the cab ride seemed to take forever. When they arrived at the hotel, there wasn’t any privacy to be had there, either. They checked in for the convention and retrieved their room keys. By the time they had a few minutes alone in the elevator, they’d arrived at their floor, and Grace scurried off to her suite, leaving him to wonder how things had gone from bad to worse.
He went to his own room, slid the keycard through the slot and pushed the door open. After tossing his suitcase on the bed, he looked around at the opulent room. A foyer led to a large living room. Off to his left was a little half-bath. The dark furniture, offset by bright carpeting and curtains, looked classy and comfortable. The big plasma flat screen was a nice touch. A mirrored wet-bar, cool. He made his way into the bedroom and noticed more mirrors, walls of them, in fact. Jackson stared at the bed and imagined making love to Grace on the luxurious linens. He groaned. He went around a corner and found the bathroom. Damn thing was fit for a king. The centerpiece was a deep Roman tub surrounded in black marble. Christ, he really wanted Grace in that tub. His cell phone rang, interrupting the X-rated movie playing in his head. He checked the caller ID, hoping it was Grace. His mom. Oh, yeah, he really wanted to talk to her. She’d see right through him, know something was wrong and want to help. It rang again. For a moment he thought of avoiding her. She’d only worry, though. Didn’t matter that he was thirty-two.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Hello, dear. Did your trip go okay?”
Just dandy if you consider alienating the one woman he was beginning to suspect he loved. “It was great.”
“No problems checking in?”
“No, I’m good. How’s Dad?”
“Apparently fine, considering he went golfing with your brother and hasn’t been back all day.”
He heard the disgust in his mother’s voice. She wanted to coddle his dad now that he was beginning to slow down, but no one coddled Edgar Hill. The man thought he was indestructible. “Scott will see to it that Dad doesn’t overdo.” His brother, younger than him by two years, had always been able to get around their dad somehow. He was a little too good at manipulating people, which was probably what made him a really great sales rep.
“Enough about your stubborn father. How are you? You sound down. Is everything okay?”
And there it was, mother’s intuition. He’d never been able to escape it, though he’d tried aplenty. “I think I may have wrecked things with Grace.” He walked back into the bedroom and collapsed onto the bed.
“That girl you told me about the last time you were here visiting?”
He’d broken down and told his mother everything about Grace Vaughn. How beautiful she was when she smiled, how crazy she made him when she said something ornery to goad him. His mother had started to hear wedding bells, though, so he’d played it off.
“Yeah, that’s the one.”
“She went with you to the convention, right?”
What was his mother up to now? “Uh, right.”
“You two will be there for three days?”
Jackson sat up. “We come back on Thursday. Why the twenty questions?”
“Well, seems to me you shouldn’t be wasting time with me. Get off the phone and ask her to dinner.”
“She pretty much hates my guts. I’m the last person she wants to break bread with, trust me.”
His mother made a frustrated sound. “No she doesn’t. She’s just playing hard to get.”
He laughed. “Women don’t do that anymore.”
“Some things may have changed over the years, but they haven’t changed that much. Ask her to dinner. If she refuses, ask her again. And remember to be a gentleman about it, Jackson.”
He chuckled as he stood. “Always.”
&
nbsp; “Don’t be smart,” she warned. “You aren’t too old for me to box your ears.”
They said their goodbyes, and Jackson went to the hotel phone and dialed Grace’s room. She answered on the second ring.
“Hello?”
“Have dinner with me.” He thought of his mother’s advice and added, “Please?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Then watch me eat. Come on, Gracie, we need to talk.”
Silence.
His gut knotted. “Grace?”
“Okay, give me twenty minutes to freshen up. I’ll meet you in the lobby.”
Jackson could have kissed his mother in that moment. “I’ll come to your room,” he said.
“The lobby, Jackson,” she stated firmly.
Damn, the woman was too astute. If he’d picked her up at her room, he might have had a chance at another kiss…or more. “The lobby in twenty minutes,” he confirmed.
They both hung up, and Jackson tried to figure out this new mood of Grace’s. She’d been pensive, subdued. Wasn’t that how murderers felt right before they cracked? Determination filled him. If Grace really was playing hard to get, then he’d just have to up the ante. After all, they were in Vegas and he had her away from her family, just as he’d wanted. Time to show his hand.
***
“No, thank you. I’m just waiting for a friend.” Grace was getting damned tired of having men assume she was for sale. Good lord, did the men in Vegas think everything was so easily bought?
The middle-aged stranger with the pot belly and receding hairline glanced at her breasts yet again, then licked his lips. “Are you sure? It’d be my pleasure to show you around the casino.”
She pasted a smile on her face and pointedly stared at his wedding ring. “No, really, I’m not interested in—”
“The lady’s with me.”
Grace turned to see Jackson behind her, a fierce frown marring his brow. He looked ready to brawl. She was never so glad to see him. “I was just about to come find you.”
Jackson placed his hand at the small of her back and waited until the stranger took the hint and disappeared into the hotel bar. “What an ass.”
“You can say that again. And that was ass number three. The first two offered money.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Jesus, are you serious?”
“Deadly serious. I didn’t think the dress was that revealing, but maybe I was wrong.”
Jackson looked her over and hummed his approval. “You look beautiful. Some men just don’t know a lady when they see one.”
She liked hearing the compliment. “Thank you. You don’t look half bad yourself.”
Half bad, yeah right. He was drop-dead gorgeous. Black Armani slacks and a white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up and open at the collar. His cropped espresso hair and the dangerous aura that seemed to be such a part of him only completed the package. She wanted to climb him like a great big mountain. A hard, hot, sexy mountain.
Grace fidgeted in her heels. She had all of two dresses, one red, one black. She’d decided to wear the black dress. It was a simple design hitting just above the knees. She’d wrapped her hair into a French twist and put on a little blush and lipstick. The heels weren’t too high that she risked breaking her neck, but they weren’t flats, either. The way Jackson kept looking at her legs, she figured she’d done okay with the clothes and shoes.
“So, where to?”
“I figured we’d keep it simple, eat here at the hotel. No worries about taxis that way.”
“You called ahead and reserved a table?”
He nodded. “I’ve thought of everything,” he murmured.
“Now why doesn’t that surprise me?”
He chuckled and steered her toward a fancy restaurant. She was still so dazzled by all the glitter and lights. Vegas life and small town Ohio were not to be compared. It was as if she’d entered an entirely different world.
As the hostess seated them, Grace noticed they were tucked away in a private little alcove, away from the main part of the restaurant. She wondered if Jackson had planned that along with everything else. “Nicely secluded. Your idea?”
Jackson winked, and it did things to her. Wild things. Her pussy flooded with liquid heat and her heartbeat sped up. “I wanted to get you alone so we could talk. Is that a crime?”
Grace reached for her menu and held it in front of her, not bothering to answer. “The prices are outrageous.”
“Everything in Vegas is outrageous,” he said. “Answer me.”
She dropped the menu and frowned. “No, it’s not a crime. Happy now?”
He stayed silent, watchful and mysterious. Grace wished she had the ability to read Jackson’s moods, but the only time she knew what went through his ornery mind was when he was turned on. In those heated moments when he teased, challenging her to take him up on his offer to push their relationship into more intimate territory, Jackson dropped his armor. Only then could she see into his soul. And what she observed made her nervous as hell. He wasn’t an easy man. Jackson was hard, inside and out. He played hard, worked hard, and he expected everyone to do the same. Grace was very much afraid that he wanted things from her she didn’t know how to give. The X-rated things he’d whispered to her on the plane had sent her straight to a cold shower. Well, a cold shower after she’d answered several phone calls from her family asking if she’d landed safely. Not just her mother, like normal people, but nearly the entire Vaughn bunch had called to make sure she hadn’t crashed. She loved them, but there were times she was tempted to move to Alaska just to escape their coddling.
Crap. Three days in Vegas. Three days of denying Jackson and the needs he brought out in her. As if she was that strong.! She’d be lucky to last one night before she came begging for him to fuck her.
When their waitress came around and started her spiel about the house specials, Grace glanced across the table. The wicked look Jackson shot her way told her two things really quick. He knew exactly what she’d been thinking, and she’d be lucky if she could still walk by the time he finished with her. Excitement had her heart beating faster. Fear had her pretending an unusual interest in the menu.
Chapter Six
Jackson gritted his teeth in frustration. They’d long since finished their meals. Grace had eaten a damned grilled chicken Caesar salad, probably because it was the cheapest thing on the menu, while he’d devoured a succulent filet mignon. After the waitress had brought out the dessert cart, Jackson nearly came in his slacks as he watched Grace’s deep blue eyes glaze over. She’d stared at the selection of rich culinary delights and licked her lips. He’d wanted to pull her out of her chair, slam her down on the table and have her pussy for dessert. But her refusal to pick anything from the cart was causing him to fast lose his patience.
“Get dessert,” he ordered.
Grace played with her water glass and eyed the cart as if she wanted to steal away with the whole thing. “No, I can’t. It’s all just too expensive.”
Christ, her cousin was the owner of the company she worked for and she still refused a simple slice of cake? “Merrick doesn’t mind if we indulge ourselves a little when we’re on business trips. He would insist if he were here, and you know it.”
“I would feel like I was taking advantage of him. Just because we can turn in our expenses doesn’t mean we should go hog wild.”
Was she for real? Anyone else would be racking up the bill if they knew their boss was footing it. Damned irritant. “A slice of cake is not going hog wild. Having the entire cart would be hog wild.” She shook her head and looked away. “Fine, then I’ll pay for it. Just get the damned chocolate cake, Gracie.”
Her lips thinned in anger. “I’m not poor. I don’t need you buying me cake, Jackson Hill. I just don’t want it. Let it go.”
Jackson looked at the waitress and growled, “We’ll take two slices of chocolate cake. Put it on my bill.”
“Yes, sir,” the waitress squeaked before rushing off.
/> He watched as Grace’s nostrils flared with anger. “You did not just do that.”
“Why do you refuse such a simple thing? There’s no point, Gracie. And don’t ever lie to me again. You want the fucking cake. Hell, you were damned near drooling over it.”
“I decide what I want and don’t want, Jackson, not you.”
As the waitress came back carrying a tray filled with their cake, he was forced to silence. After she placed the decadent treats on the table then left, his gaze snagged on Grace. She licked her lips, but still didn’t pick up her fork.
Jackson had had enough of her stubbornness to last a lifetime. He leaned across the table and whispered, “Baby, we can eat the cake here with forks and napkins like civilized adults, or we can lick it off each other back in my room. Your choice.”
Grace didn’t speak, but merely sat there, as if warring with herself. Was she imagining what he wanted her to imagine? Jackson desperately wanted an answer to that question. She shocked him when she picked up the fork and took a chunk out of the dark dessert. Her eyes were trained on him as she brought it to her mouth. The fork disappeared between her plump, ruby lips. She closed her eyes and moaned deep in her throat. When she went back for a second bite, Jackson spread his legs and sat back, content to watch Grace seduce him with chocolate. By the time she’d devoured the entire slice, his cock was hammer hard and ready to be buried deep inside Grace’s pretty cunt. Tight and hot, right where he belonged for the next fifty years.
Grace sat back, dabbed her lips with the white linen napkin and murmured, “You’re right. I did want the cake, but you were wrong about the other.”
Jackson cleared his throat. “What other?” Hallelujah, he really could speak.
This time it was Grace’s turn to lean across the table. “I never mix my two favorite vices. Chocolate is orgasmic all on its own. When I have sex, I prefer to leave the food out of it.”
And again, Grace Vaughn takes the lead. Their verbal sparring matches were wearing him down. Jackson couldn’t figure out why he didn’t just forfeit, lay himself at her feet and beg her to put him out of his horny misery. He sure as hell wasn’t getting anywhere by hoping she’d come to him on her own.