The Devil Wears Spurs

by Soraya Lane

  “I say we toast our crappy dads and then don’t waste another second thinking about them.”

  “Cheers to that,” he muttered.

  She stopped when he did. “We’ll leave our bags here. Just take up whatever you need onboard.”

  Chloe put her carry-on over her shoulder and headed for the stairs.

  “I hope you brought some serious cash,” she said, walking ahead of him up the stairs.

  “Sure did. And I booked us at the Bellagio. If we’re going to do this, I wanted to at least make sure it looked legit.”

  “Oh, because you’d normally whisk new girlfriends away on your jet for naughty vacations somewhere?”

  He laughed. “No, if you were my real girlfriend I’d be making sure you became a member of the mile-high club first, then take you somewhere more”—he shrugged—“I don’t know, more relaxing maybe. Probably an island, sure as hell not Sin City.”

  “Mile-high club, huh?”

  Ryder grinned and enjoyed the view as she went up ahead of him. As far as fake girlfriends went, it couldn’t get much better than Chloe.

  “Out of curiosity, have you ever had a real girlfriend?” she asked.

  That made him laugh. “When I was sixteen.”

  “Welcome, Mr. King,” the flight attendant said. “Ma’am.”

  Ryder couldn’t remember her name, but he was guessing either Nate or Chase had personally selected her for the job. He winked as she spoke, holding eye contact instead of letting his gaze drop to her ample chest. If Chloe hadn’t been here … He looked away. She was and that meant he had to be on his best behavior.

  “How many times do I have to tell you ladies to call me Ryder?”

  She giggled and gestured into the jet. “Please make yourselves comfortable. Once your luggage is stored we’ll be cleared for takeoff as scheduled.”

  He turned to follow Chloe and received a smack to the back of his head.

  “Ouch!” He rubbed where she’d whacked him. “What the hell was that for?”

  Chloe raised an eyebrow, one hand on her hip. “My boyfriend just ogled another woman, what did you expect?”

  He shrugged. “Well played. Just don’t hit me again.”

  “Or what?” she asked, walking a step closer and letting her carry-on fall to the ground.

  “Or I kiss that pretty smile from your face,” he replied, wrapping an arm around her, palm to the small of her back, and pushing her forward. “Okay?”

  She didn’t blink, didn’t pull away, just thrust her chin up defiantly. “I won’t hit you, you don’t threaten me.”

  “Sweetheart, it ain’t no threat,” Ryder murmured.

  “I—”

  He didn’t let her finish her sentence. Ryder was done with talk—he wanted action and he wanted it now. He dropped the bag he was carrying and cupped her cheek, his other hand still firmly on her lower back, pushing her forward. Her breathing was shallow as he leaned in, brushing her lips softly with his.

  When he thought she was going to pull away, her hand found its way between them and landed firm on his chest. Ryder drew her closer, deepening their kiss. He tasted her mouth, his tongue bold against hers when she parted her lips, unable to stay gentle any longer. Chloe’s hair was soft against his fingers when he cupped the back of her head, her body supple as she slipped her fingers around his neck, no longer trying to push him back.

  “Sorry to, ah, interrupt, Mr. King, but…”

  Ryder sighed against Chloe’s mouth, reluctantly breaking their kiss. He touched his forehead to hers for a second before taking a step back.

  “We’ll be seated in a moment,” he replied without taking his eyes off Chloe. Her smile was infectious, eyes shining as she dabbed the corners of her mouth to wipe her smudged lip gloss.

  “Thank you, Mr. King.”

  He no longer gave a damn that the attendant had forgotten to call him by his first name. The only woman he had eyes for right now was Chloe, and the sooner they were left alone the better.

  “Ready to take your seat?” he asked.

  Chloe’s cheeks were flushed as she let him take her bag and store it before taking a seat in one of the big chairs.

  “Amazing,” she said, shutting her eyes and stretching out.

  “The kiss or the seat?”

  Her gaze was hot, her eyes like liquid fire. “Both.”

  Ryder settled down across from her, stretching his legs out so that his boot touched the side of her heel. He could have sat down beside her, but he wanted to watch her. For now.

  “Two glasses of Veuve Clicquot,” he called out, knowing the flight attendant would be hovering within hearing distance.

  She appeared with two glasses and a bottle almost instantly, setting both champagne flutes down and pouring.

  “Please let me know if you require anything else before takeoff,” she said.

  Ryder nodded. “I will.” Although what he wanted only Chloe could give him. “So what do you think?” he asked, settling back and taking his eyes off her to glance around the interior for himself.

  “I think,” she said, holding up her glass and leaning forward to clink it against his, “that you’ve ruined any future flying experience for me. Coach will never shape up ever again.”

  “Play your cards right,” he said with a wink, “and I might start flying you everywhere with me.”

  She took another sip of champagne, crossing her legs and leaning back. “You’re stealing my lines.”

  Her legs looked even longer crossed. Her hair tumbled over one shoulder and her lips were stained slightly red from the strawberry she’d taken from her glass and eaten. He was getting hard just watching her.

  “So tell me, Mr. King, why has a guy like you not had a girlfriend since you were a teenager?”

  Ryder sipped his champagne, wishing he’d just asked for a beer. “I can’t answer that.”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  He shook his head. “Let’s just say I’ve been auditioning for the role but I haven’t met anyone suitable.”

  “Ah,” she said. “So in other words there’re plenty of women good enough for your bed but not your heart?”

  He laughed. She wasn’t exactly being discreet in her interrogation. “Are you waiting for me to admit that I’ve been a man whore?”

  “No.” Now she was the one laughing. “I’m just trying to figure out if it’s even remotely plausible that you could have fallen for me. You know, enough for anyone to believe that I’m actually your girlfriend.”

  Ryder slowly looked Chloe up, then down, his eyes traveling over her body. “Yeah,” he told her, “you’re exactly my type.”

  She uncrossed then crossed her legs again, fingers playing against the stem of her glass. “And what exactly is your type?”

  He licked his lips, drumming his fingers against his thigh as he met her gaze. “Well, let’s see,” he started, studying her face. “Long hair, kissable mouth, breasts that…”

  “Enough!” she demanded. “I get the picture.”

  Ryder couldn’t wipe the smile off his face as he ignored her and continued. “A nice ass, just the right size for me to hold on to…”

  “Ryder!”

  He shrugged. “Just being honest.”

  The plane started moving then, rolling down the tarmac at the same time the pilot spoke through the speaker system.

  “Welcome aboard, Mr. King, we’re now cleared for takeoff. We will be arriving as scheduled into Las Vegas, Nevada, at twelve hundred hours. Please enjoy your flight.”

  “So what are we going to do to kill time?” he asked, fastening his seat belt and indicating for Chloe to do the same.

  “How about you tell me more about your family?”

  He shook his head. “How about you come and climb onto my lap?”

  She laughed at him, draining the rest of her champagne. “Settle down, cowboy. One kiss doesn’t mean I’m yours. And I’m only your pretend girlfriend, in case you’ve forgotten. There’s no way in he
ll anything’s happening between us.”

  The jet roared down the runway and took off, lifting high into the sky. Ryder watched as Chloe shut her eyes, gripping the armrest until they were no longer on such a sharp ascent. When she opened them, her eyes found his and she didn’t look away.

  “No, it doesn’t,” he answered. “But it’s a damn good start.”

  “Ryder, about our accommodations…” she started.

  “What, it’s not good enough?”

  She smiled. “That’s the problem, it’s too good. We can stay there but we won’t be gambling in their big game room.”

  Now he was the one confused. “Why the hell not?”

  “We might hit the Orleans, off the main strip. The games have lower limits and I can slip under the radar. I don’t need to play the pros or gamble a ton of money, I just need practice.”

  “You’re in charge,” he said, draining his champagne.

  She just smiled, and it took every ounce of his restraint not to storm the distance between them and wipe that smile of her face with his mouth.

  * * *

  Chloe rinsed her hands and stared at her reflection in the mirror. This whole experience was insane. Everything she’d ever imagined about a private jet had been wrong—it was more luxurious and then some. The bathroom was two times as large as the one in her apartment, dark timber panels glossy and lavish. Even the white hand towels looked expensive, embossed with the same rearing horse logo that was emblazoned on the side of the plane.

  She could get used to this and the thought terrified her. Because she knew how easy it was to get used to luxury, and how easily it could all disappear. Hell, if Ryder was in charge of his family’s money, he might have lost the jet in a bad bet and she wouldn’t be onboard right now. Unless, of course, she believed him that he wasn’t a gambler. Which she didn’t. Not yet. He struck her as reckless and the kind of guy who didn’t think twice about putting everything on the line—until he proved himself otherwise she was going with her first impression of him.

  Chloe dried her hands, refolding the towel so everything still looked perfectly in place, and let herself out. She glanced around, admiring the mahogany serving area complete with bottles of champagne and whiskey, as well as some plates of food she guessed they were to help themselves to.

  She turned back around to where they’d been sitting and when she saw Ryder, every hair on her body stood on end. Chloe narrowed her eyes and marched over to her seat, placing one hand on her hip as she glared at the flight attendant half-bent over the sofa toward Ryder. In her short skirt and high heels, with a red scarf tied around her neck and long hair tumbling over one shoulder, the attendant was far too attractive for Chloe not to react. Ryder might be her pretend boyfriend but she sure as hell wasn’t putting up with every woman within a hundred foot radius of them hitting on him so blatantly. And the look on his face … damn. She shouldn’t have sworn to herself that she wouldn’t touch him.

  “Excuse me,” Chloe said, voice loud and clear.

  The other woman turned, gasping like the last thing she expected was to be caught. There were only three of them on the plane, except for the pilot—it wasn’t like she could have forgotten Ryder was traveling with a female passenger who was clearly his partner.

  “Sorry, ma’am. Can I get something for you?”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to snap back that she damn well should be sorry. Instead she slipped past her and sat down beside Ryder, way closer than she would have otherwise. Chloe placed one hand on his thigh, stroking for a second then pausing, fingers dangerously close to his crotch.

  “Another glass of champagne,” Chloe said, meeting the other woman’s gaze, refusing to blink as she stared the attendant down. She might not be used to flying private, but she sure as hell knew how to stake out her territory.

  “And you, ah, Mr. King?”

  Chloe hadn’t even looked at him yet, but when she glanced at him now she could see he was amused. The smirk on his face was impossible to ignore.

  “Just a beer for me. Thanks.”

  When the flight attendant turned to go, Chloe dug her nails hard into Ryder’s thigh.

  “Ouch!” He pulled away but she kept her claws in. “You want to play rough…”

  “I want you to myself,” she hissed. “No wonder you’ve never had a proper girlfriend before. You have no goddamn idea how to behave.”

  This time he laughed when she ran her nails down his thigh before digging them in deeper. She saw the attendant coming back with their drinks and she leaned in closer to Ryder, using her other hand to push his face around so his lips were only inches from hers.

  “Well you sure know how to make a guy hard,” he mumbled, reaching for her hand and yanking it away from his leg. “And how to make your point.”

  Chloe pressed a long, slow kiss to Ryder’s lips, keeping her eyes open so she could watch him. She’d met plenty of alpha men before, but she’d never been up close and personal, intimate, with a guy like Ryder. His hooded gaze, the calm inhale and exhale of each breath, the way he held himself—there was nothing about the man that didn’t ooze confidence. But right now she was calling the shots—he might be richer and more powerful than she was, but she was in charge and she liked it. She wanted a break from being the good girl? Then this was definitely the way to do it.

  “You make your point yet, or do you want to climb onboard and pin me down?”

  Chloe let him murmur against her lips, aware they were being watched, then grabbed a handful of his short hair and tugged him forward.

  “Kiss me,” she ordered.

  He obeyed, moving his lips faster against hers, his champagne-flavored mouth and warm lips making it hard for her to keep playing the boss. She would have liked to let him take charge, push her back onto the sofa and do with her what he wanted, but she was playing a different game with him, and that wasn’t part of the plan. There was nothing normal about this situation and she needed to remember it.

  “Still hard?” she whispered, pulling back and then kissing him again, plucking at his lips before sucking hard on the bottom one.

  “Uh-huh,” he grunted back.

  “Good,” she said, laughing as she let go of him and pushed him back into the sofa, reaching for her champagne.

  “Good?” he asked, his voice an octave deeper than she’d heard it before.

  Chloe smiled at him, holding her glass high. “Cheers.”

  “Cock tease,” he muttered, adjusting his jeans and making a hasty grab for his beer, but it didn’t stop him from grinning like he couldn’t wait to get her back.

  “A tease is someone who doesn’t go through with what they started,” she mused. “I haven’t made my mind up yet.”

  “Huh. Well, make it up damn soon or I’ll have to find it elsewhere, if you get my drift.”

  Chloe saw red. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

  Now it was Ryder grinning. “Gotcha.”

  She turned to face him, doing a terrible job of disguising her anger as she sipped her drink again. “Don’t mess with me, Ryder.”

  “I’m not messing with you, baby. Not a chance.” His tone was more serious now.

  Thinking of him with another woman made her furious. She scowled at the mental picture of him with the hot attendant, bent over in that gorgeous bathroom she’d just visited. One nod and she’d probably have been on her knees.

  “If we’re going to go through with this whole”—she paused—“charade, then we need to set some ground rules.”

  “Oh yeah, like what?” He leaned farther back into the sofa, hitching up a leg and propping his beer on his knee.

  She mimicked his movements, slowly sipping her drink and casually leaning back. “Like the fact that while you’re with me, there’s no being unfaithful.”

  “Sweetheart, if you’re not warming my bed then someone will be. I appreciate what you’re doing for me, but I’m not a fucking monk.”

  “Funny,” she said, twirling the narrow st
em of her champagne glass between her fingers then meeting his gaze, “because I thought the most important thing to you right now would be getting your ranch back. Or have you forgotten about that already?”

  His stare was dark. “No, I haven’t forgotten. You damn well know I haven’t.”

  “Yet you can’t bear the thought of being celibate even if it gets you what you want.”

  “Or maybe I just can’t bear the thought of being celibate with you around?” he said, his voice deep as he picked at the label on his beer bottle. When his eyes met hers, the stare was so intense she went hot all over. “I’m not sure you know quite how”—he laughed—“fuckable you are. But I’m also getting the feeling that you’re not good at taking a joke.”

  She would have burst out laughing, only she wasn’t convinced he was actually teasing. “If that’s true then why couldn’t you keep it in your pants before when she was over here?”

  This time he roared with laughter. “Oh, I kept it in my pants. You didn’t see them around my ankles, did you?” He nudged her foot with his. “Besides, it’s one thing to look, right?”

  She stood up, no longer wanting to engage in whatever the hell they were doing. Ryder loved to tease her, maybe he was the same with all women, but she was sick of taking the bait.

  “Look, I don’t know what kind of girls you’re used to—” she started.

  Ryder interrupted, leaning forward and waggling his eyebrows. “Pretty ones,” he whispered. “But not firecrackers like you.”

  Chloe kept her back turned, walking a few steps until the plane jerked and she had to grab the back of a seat to stop from stumbling. “Ouch.” She was super unsteady when the same thing happened again, only the lurch was much stronger second time around.

  “We’re experiencing a little turbulence,” the pilot said, voice calm and steady through the overhead speaker. “Please ensure you stay seated with your belts on until further notice.”

  “You okay?”

  Ryder’s hand on her shoulder calmed her, his voice deep and soothing.

  “Fine,” she said, taking a breath and slowly turning to face him. “I’ll be just fine.”

  “It’s the bubbles,” he told her, taking her hand firmly and leading her back to one of the large cream leather chairs. “One glass in the air is like three on the ground.”