by Zoe York
Maybe instead of getting married he should drag her to a tattoo parlour. Stamp his name in a swirly font on her perfect ass. He pulled out his phone and texted her. How do you feel about tattoos?
He watched the text message turn green instead of staying blue. Damn. She was in some dark corner of the hospital without reception.
The odds of sexting preceding their phone call in a couple of hours were low. The odds of him winning this hand were pretty high, though. And when he did, he anted in for the next. Nothing to be done but have some fun.
He had his mind on a decent steak dinner, an excellent use for his winnings, when her return text came in. For me or you?
Maybe both. Matching ones.
What are you thinking.
Your name over my heart.
His phone rang, and he wished Willem a good time at the show. He answered as he turned to walk back to the Venetian on his own. “Be warned, Laney, I’m out in public, turning me on would be a dangerous move.”
“Are you drunk?” Her laughing voice filled his ear.
“Yeah, a bit. I had a good afternoon of cards and whiskey.”
“My name over your heart, eh?”
“It’s already there, sweetheart, might as well make it official. Since we’re never going to actually make it official.”
“That’s on your mind, huh?” She lowered her voice. “Is being in Vegas giving you ideas for eloping again?”
He was at the wrong end of the strip for wedding chapels, but he swung his arms out in a wide circle, narrowly missing an older couple in matching Florida is for Lovers t-shirts and navy blue Tilly hats. “Love is all around me, Laney, and I’m all alone.”
She laughed again. “What would you do if I was there?”
“I’d toss you over my shoulder and hail a cab for the Graceland Chapel.”
“You want to get married by Elvis?”
“Sounds perfect.” His hotel loomed ahead of him. “Hey, listen, I’m starving. I’m going to stop at one of the restaurants before heading up to my room. Can I call you back?”
“Sure. How many restaurants are there in the Venetian?”
“I don’t know. The Grand Lux is on the way to my room. Lane, this place is crazy, you gotta see it some day.”
“Go eat your steak, high roller. I love you.”
He had a shit-eating grin on his face as he made his way to the bar. The bartender brought him a menu, and poured him a drink, then drifted down to the other end before coming back. He stopped a few feet away. “Can I help you?”
Kyle started to answer, but the guy held up his hand. “Sorry, buddy, ladies first.”
A swish of fabric and a familiar scent had him half off his stool before Laney stroked her hand down his forearm and gave him a play along look. “Is this seat taken?”
“All yours.” He looked her up and down. Damn, she looked good. Shiny hair, bright eyes, and not a stethoscope in sight. She wore a black mini dress and strappy high heels, her legs bare and long and ever so close to his. Yes, he’d play along. “You come here often?”
“First time.” She returned the admiring look and smiled a secret smile. “You in Vegas alone?”
“Sure am. My fiancée had to work.”
“All work and no play?”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “It’s okay, you can tell me. What happens in Vegas…”
He closed the gap between them and brushed his mouth against her ear. “Order your drink, woman.”
She grinned at the bartender and once they were alone again, she squeezed his thigh. “Miss me?”
“I missed Laney. I have no idea who this wonderful temptress is, but I think she might be trouble.”
“Of the best kind, I promise.”
“Dare I ask how you managed to get out here?”
A serious look drifted across her face for a moment. “It turns out, nothing’s impossible if it’s important enough.”
“I didn’t want you to feel like you had—”
“I came because I wanted to be here. With you.” Sexy, teasing Laney roared back to life. “Tell me more about your fiancée.”
“She’s beautiful. Looks a lot like you. Has a wicked mouth.”
“Not sure I can compete with that, but I’m willing to give it a go. I do this thing with my tongue…”
God, he was glad she’d made the trip. A laugh ripped up from his chest and he tossed his head back. “She has that too. She’s pretty perfect.”
“But she let you come to Sin City all alone. Naughty girl.”
“When I get home, I should spank her.” He pulled his wallet out and tossed enough on the bar for their drinks and a tip. “But since you’re here, I feel like a practice paddle.”
With a happy shriek, Laney let him drag her off the bar stool and they set a quick pace for the elevators.
“What about your steak?” she teased, pressing the length of her front hard into his side. He was acutely aware of the subtle spread of her thighs, the press of her mound against his hip, and the sharp intake of breath that betrayed just how much she enjoyed the pressure right there as he ground sideways into her core.
“We’ll order room service.” He nipped at her ear and lowered his voice. “Maybe I’ll make you my appetizer.”
They held hands in the crowded elevator. Even on Kyle’s floor, where the hallway was quiet, they waited until he’d opened his door before sliding together and kissing for the first time in four days. But by the time the latch clicked behind them, they were halfway naked.
Kyle picked Laney up and tossed her on the bed. He cast a quick, appreciative look at her purple lace thong before sliding it down her thighs and hitching her knees over his shoulders. He kissed his way up the inside of one thigh, dusted a breath over her gorgeous pussy, then back down the other leg, loving the way she trembled at the tease. “Do you want something, sweetheart?”
“Know any tongue tricks of your own, stranger?”
“My fiancée likes it when I do this,” he said, parting her sex with two fingers. Fuck, he loved the scent of her. Sweet and musky. The sight of her, too. Swollen and slick with slippery desire, blond curls hiding a shiny pink secret just for him. He licked her centre, groaning in pleasure at the first taste before remembering it wasn’t all about his addiction to her pussy. He owed her an orgasm. He slid one finger inside her, then another as she spread her thighs and tilted her hips in a soundless plea for more.
In tandem, he worked his mouth and his hand on her sex. Licking and sucking on her clit, hard and swollen. Fucking her with his hand, rubbing that spot inside her that made her—
“More, more, more,” she panted, and he laughed before redoubling his efforts. She started to shake around him and he slid in a third finger, stretching her. Filling her until she moaned and grabbed at his head, grinding herself against his face. His cock was painfully hard against the bedspread and he rose up on his knees just enough to reach lower and fist himself with his free hand. Slowly, because he wasn’t going to come until he was buried deep inside his woman.
When she exploded, stiffening around him with a series of gorgeous, shaky sounds, he surged up to capture her mouth at the same time as he nudged his cock into her soaking wet pussy, easing himself home.
“I love you,” he whispered as she moaned beneath him.
“Love you, too,” she panted as she shifted her hips, seating him even deeper in her sex. “Love you so much.”
“Well sure, I make you come like a porn star.” He groaned as she tightened her pelvic muscles around his dick. “Oh god yeah.”
“Two can play that game, high roller.” She licked her red, sex-swollen mouth and arched her tits into his chest. “I thought you were going to paddle my ass.”
He growled and thrust into her, jerking them both up the bed an inch. “All in good time, vixen.”
Her breath hitched and she bit her lip. “Remind me again why I’m going to be punished? Why you’
re going to turn me over your lap—” Her words were driving him crazy, as intended, and he shifted enough to lift one of her thighs up and press her open, making her gasp for air and then let out a desperate, happy laugh. “Spank me until my ass turns red and pussy starts dripping—”
That did it. He cut her off with a hard, demanding kiss, fucking her in tandem with his tongue and his cock, setting a wicked pace that didn’t end until his balls drew tight and his orgasm thudded out of his body, leaving him wasted and heavy on top of Laney.
She laughed, a gentle, loving ripple beneath him.
“What?” he muttered into her neck.
“We still act like this is new. I like it.”
He kissed the spot beneath her ear that was guaranteed to make her sigh, then rolled away, kissing her breasts and then her far shoulder as he moved. “I’ll never get enough of you. You’re like a drug.”
— —
“So tell me more about this Graceland Chapel.” Laney rolled lazily into Kyle’s side. They were both slicked with sweat, but the air-conditioning hummed pleasantly and it wasn’t unpleasant. Just productively sticky in a holy crap look what we just did kind of way.
“Hmmm?” His voice was thick and full of sleep, but that wouldn’t last long. Any second now his stomach would growl and they’d order up some dinner.
“Elvis? You, me, vows…”
He lifted his head and gave her a content smile. “I was just teasing, sweetheart. I thought you were on the other side of the country.”
Oh boy, was he in for a surprise. “So you wouldn’t want to do that?”
He shrugged and dropped his head to the pillow again. “Sure. Vegas, a beach somewhere…hell, I’d marry you at Chicago City Hall.”
“Then let’s do it.”
It took him a minute to hear the seriousness in her voice, and by the time it hit him she thought her face might split in half from the giant grin she was sporting. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah?” He half-yelled it this time, sleepiness forgotten, and pulled her hard against him. Naked, sweaty, and giddy with excitement, she peppered his face with kisses as he gaped at her. “What about your mom?”
“We’ll let them plan a reception for Christmas. But now that my sister’s getting married again, I think it’s less of a big deal.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think moms work that way.”
She didn’t care. “This is just for us. For you. I’ve been thinking of you as my husband forever now. Time we make that official.”
He slanted his mouth over hers and swept his tongue over her lips, and then inside, hungry and hot all over again. “Damn straight I’m going to make you my wife tonight.”
“I’m already your wife,” she whispered and he kissed her again.
— THREE —
“What do you mean we can’t get married tonight?”
After eating an extravagant room service dinner, they’d gotten dressed together, bumping elbows in the bathroom and giggling about what they were going to do. Kyle had looked up the marriage bureau address and confirmed they could do a same day service. It looked pretty straightforward.
But now they were at the Graceland Chapel, license in hand, and it was packed. The clerk gave them an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. We do recommend making a reservation in advance.”
Kyle turned to Laney, who looked crushed, and brushed a kiss across her temple. “You want to go somewhere else?” he murmured.
She shrugged. “I’d kind of gotten attached to the idea of being married by Elvis.”
The clerk cleared her throat. “We could fit you in at three tomorrow afternoon.”
Laney brightened up. “We’ll take it.”
Disappointment warred with anticipation in his gut. What was one more day? It felt like a lifetime, which was ridiculous.
“Come on, high roller, let’s go see if we can find a midnight burlesque show.” His almost-wife gave him a naughty smile and his maudlin reaction to the delay was forgotten. Hell yes. He pulled out his phone and texted Willem that he wouldn’t be attending the next day’s poster display or plenary luncheon. Turned out he had the date of a lifetime instead.
A quick cab ride delivered them to the doors of the hot new dinner theatre where Willem had bought tickets earlier, but it seemed like denial was the order of the day.
“Sorry, man,” the ticket seller shrugged. “The midnight show’s our most popular. We recommend—”
“Reservations, yeah. I’m getting that vibe loud and clear from this town. Vegas isn’t quite what I expected in that regard.”
“We do have another show on our smaller stage. A comedy thing. It’s weird. And free.”
“Wow, you’re really selling it.”
“The drinks are only two bucks.”
Laney groped his ass and whispered something about stripping for him when they got back to the hotel if he bought her a few drinks, but not quietly enough because the ticket guy grinned and told him that sounded like a bang-up deal. Kyle glowered but couldn’t deny the truth.
She’d put her black mini-dress back on. Her suitcase had been brought up from the front desk, where she’d left it, and she’d teased him with a glimpse of a leather corset, but she decided she wanted to be able to show their mothers a wedding photo so it had been stashed away again. She’d look good shimmying out of that dress in a bit, and weird and free would at least make for a good story.
And it did. They laughed, and drank, and stumbled out two hours later feeling pretty damn good.
Even though it was the middle of the night back east, Laney texted her sister a picture of them in front of the show poster—both of them flushed and happy. Evie was apparently awake, because she called Laney just as they arrived back at the Venetian. From the half of the conversation he was privy to, he gleaned that their infant niece Ava was teething and waking everyone up at all hours. So Evie was happy to hear about a bit of adult fun in Vegas, but before Laney could wiggle out of the conversation, her too-clever older sister had cottoned on to their secret plan.
“Maybe,” Laney said into the phone, biting her lip. Kyle wrapped his arms around her waist and eased her to sit on a stone bench overlooking the man-made canal outside the hotel. “It’s just time, you know? And planning a wedding in Wardham when we don’t live there—”
She nodded along, still worrying her lip as her sister talked. Kyle braced himself for Evie to talk Laney out of the plan, so when she murmured a few last words and hung up the phone, he didn’t say anything. She didn’t either, for a minute, just leaned against him.
“There’s something about a hot summer night,” she said suddenly. Her gaze was fixed straight ahead and he couldn’t get a read on what she was thinking from her profile. God, she was gorgeous. Her normally porcelain skin glowed in the lamps overhead, and her shiny hair floated around her head in a loose up-do. Like she’d been spun from gold.
He’d been in love with her all his life and woke up every day thinking it wasn’t possible to love her more. And then she’d tell him how she’d helped rebuild someone’s face, totally off-the-cuff, like that was something people could just do, and he’d fall a little deeper. Or he’d find her cuddling with Buddy on the couch, whispering secret thoughts to their furry companion. And now here they were, about to do something just for them, and he couldn’t resent her for having second thoughts, because she just wanted to make their families happy. Deeper. Just like that.
“You want to go for a walk?” he asked, not sure what he wanted the answer to be. Yes, to soak up more of this city that didn’t sleep. No, because the privacy of their room beckoned, where they could celebrate their love even if they weren’t going to act on the license in his pocket.
As if she hadn’t heard his question, she pushed off the bench and headed to the railing. There weren’t any gondola rides to be had at this hour, and while people were out and about, quiet sounds filled the warm air around them. The water below Laney lapped gently against
the walls of the canal. In the distance, cars sped up and slowed down. And ten feet away from him, Kyle’s almost-wife sighed.
“What I want,” she said, turning back to face him, her hands outstretched, “is to marry you tomorrow at three in the afternoon. Invited guests will include Elvis and any hobos we stumble across on the way there.”
He leaped up and took her hands, twirling her into a close embrace, her back nestled against his front. “And our families?”
“They’ll get to see the pictures.” She hummed a few bars from an old Alan Jackson song, one of her favourites, and he rocked her in his arms.
“Want to dance?” She nodded and he spun her into position. They did this pretty often—usually in their kitchen, not in the courtyard of a hotel, but spontaneous dancing was spontaneous dancing. Sort of their thing. And a total turn-on for Laney. Ergo, a no-brainer for Kyle.
The hem of her dress slid up and down his thigh as they turned and twisted together. The temptation to drop his hand and play with the bare skin of her leg proved irresistible. Instead of batting his hand away, she hooked her leg around his, freezing them in a locked together stance. She stroked her fingertips up and down his neck for a moment, just staring into his eyes, and what could have been totally cheesy was actually totally perfect.
— —
“You want to take me back to your room for that striptease, high roller?” Laney desperately wanted to lighten the mood. She didn’t know how Kyle dealt with all the big feelings he had.
“Is that your way of dodging around whatever heavy thoughts are in your head?”
“Wow, got it in one. Impressive.” She licked along his jaw. “Can I distract you by promising Canadian rules for the stripping?”