One Night in Vegas

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  “Okay?” he asked.

  She wondered if she had revealed something in her expression, then realized he meant physically. She took mental stock and giggled.

  “My ass is on fire, my nipples are sore and my insides feel slightly bruised. I’ve never been better.”

  He laughed loudly. “Wanna go for broke?”

  “Meaning?”

  “I’m trying to be a gentleman when all I want to do right now is take you hard, deep and fast.”

  Her pussy clenched in response. “Oh, hell yeah. It’s Vegas, baby. Let it ride.”

  She expected him to laugh at her joke. Instead, it appeared her words released the beast.

  Noah knelt, grasping the backs of her knees and tucking them into the crooks of his elbows. The position lifted her ass off the mattress slightly and left her wide open for what he had in mind.

  Which was exactly what he’d asked for.

  Noah pounded inside her, free of restraint, taking her with more force, more passion than she’d ever dreamed possible.

  It was incredible. She came within a dozen thrusts but this time, Noah didn’t pause, didn’t seek to comfort or rock her. Instead, he kept moving, claiming.

  Her second orgasm came right on the heels of the first, but Noah still wasn’t finished.

  Hollie’s head thrashed wildly on the pillow as she gripped his muscular arms, holding on for dear life.

  “Can’t take it,” she said, though that was a lie. In just a few short hours, she’d come to know there was nothing this man could dish out that she wouldn’t scarf down like a starving person.

  “Hollie,” Noah said, his voice tight. He was there. At last.

  And she was with him. God. She didn’t know she had this many orgasms in her.

  He thrust deep one last time and held steady as he came. Hollie’s back arched as she joined him.

  Considering the noise they’d just been making, Hollie was struck by the sudden silence in the room. All she could hear was their labored breathing as Noah slowly withdrew and dropped next to her on the bed.

  She turned to face him, neither of them speaking.

  He ran the back of his fingers along her cheek, staring at her with…

  Love.

  Hollie was certain of it.

  She smiled and he returned it. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him how she felt, but something held her back.

  Tomorrow loomed like a black, scary shadow, casting her happy ending in darkness.

  Noah leaned toward her and kissed her gently. “Shut it down for the night, Hollie. There’s plenty of time to figure this out later. Okay?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Are you a mind reader?”

  He shook his head, clearly amused by her question. “I don’t think it takes any special skill to know what’s on your mind. Especially since it’s the same thing that’s on mine.”

  Hollie loved how open and honest Noah was. What you saw was what you got with him.

  “Later,” she said with a sigh. “We’ll talk later.”

  He wrapped his arm around her waist. Hollie expected stress and worry over the show and what would happen between them to keep her awake, but the moment she closed her eyes, physical exhaustion won the day.

  Chapter Five

  Noah glanced at the clock. It was just a few minutes before three a.m. He was surprised to realize he’d only slept a few hours. When he had tugged Hollie into his arms, he’d been dog-tired and a bit afraid about missing his alarm and oversleeping come morning.

  Today was the most important day of his life. When he thought about it, it wasn’t exactly surprising that he couldn’t sleep. Everything was about to change.

  For better. Or for worse.

  Unable to relax, Noah slowly disentangled himself from Hollie. He sat on the edge of the bed for a few minutes, turning to look at her.

  She was so gorgeous. Her shoulder-length red hair fanned around her on the crisp white silk sheets. Even in the candlelight, he could make out the light smattering of freckles on her nose and cheeks. In his mind, she was the image of the All-American girl, wholesome, healthy—perfect.

  God. That word kept weaving into his thoughts. Hollie was perfect for him in every way. The more time he spent with her, the more it felt as if she’d been made just for him.

  He stood up and walked over to where he’d shed his clothing earlier. Noah had never been a great sleeper. He suspected his inability to maintain any sort of deep slumber stemmed from his childhood.

  His mother had been a drug addict and it wasn’t unusual for her to support that habit by prostitution. He and his brother, Zac, had gotten pretty good at hiding themselves when they were younger, after they’d had a couple run-ins with johns who’d thought it was fun to beat on little kids. Then there had been the guy who’d offered his mom money to let him fuck them. She’d gone nuts on the asshole and kicked him out, but after that, he and Zac had spent too many restless nights with one eye open, prepared to defend themselves if necessary.

  When Mama Lewis had taken them in, Noah had been surprised that sleep was the one thing that still seemed to evade him. The Lewises had given him a warm, safe home, but some habits and fears never left you. For Noah, he’d learned early on that sleep made you vulnerable, and as a result, he was no stranger to midnight walks or late-night TV.

  Once he’d dressed and put his shoes on, he left a note for Hollie on his pillow. God forbid she woke up and thought he’d left her. He needed some time to think, so he decided to head down to the hotel bar. Lucky for him, he was in a city that never slept. He felt the need for a beer and a chance to figure out what he should do next.

  There were a lot more people in the elegant bar than he would have expected, given the late hour. He considered claiming a stool at the long counter, but the bartender looked like the type who liked to chat and there were two women sitting there eyeing him with appreciative, inviting smiles.

  He hadn’t come here looking for company. If he had wanted that, he would have simply rolled over and woken up the angel in his bed.

  Glancing around, he spotted a small table near the corner. The lighting there was very dim. So dark, in fact, he wondered if that section of the bar was closed. He hesitated.

  A waitress walked by and stopped. “Can I help you?”

  He pointed to the table. “Do you mind if I sit over there?”

  She shook her head. “Not at all. You can sit anywhere you want. Want a drink?”

  Noah grinned, said he liked craft beer on draft and told her to surprise him. She winked and promised to bring one over.

  Noah sank into the comfortable chair, releasing a long, weary breath. He’d been an idiot to get out of bed. He needed the rest, needed a clear head and his wits if he was going to make it through the finale and the aftermath.

  The waitress set down a dark milk stout, claiming it was her favorite beer. He took a sip and complimented her taste. She said she’d check on him later and left him alone.

  Noah played over the events of the evening, starting with the moment he’d realized the hotel had screwed up, placing him and Hollie in the same room. Not that he intended to complain about that mistake.

  Then he recalled the feeling he’d had that they had been set up. He couldn’t imagine the producer would do such a thing. The man didn’t appear to see anything more than the ratings and money from the sponsors. It seemed unlikely he would purposely try to drive his last two competitors into each other’s arms the night before the finale.

  Which brought him back to the hotel staff. Perhaps they’d believed the tabloids, seen that they’d chosen the same fantasy, and assumed they wanted to be together. It felt far-fetched, but Noah was lacking any other explanation.

  Of course, the more he considered everything he’d done with Hollie tonight, the harder it was for him to think any of it had been a mistake. Maybe it had been ill advised to take Hollie to bed the night before they both had to take the stage to compete against each other in front of
millions of viewers. But try as he may, he couldn’t find an ounce of regret over that action.

  He took another longer swig of his beer, and then rubbed his eyes. He needed rest, but he didn’t foresee getting any. He couldn’t get his brain to shut down.

  “Shit,” he murmured.

  “That’s a heavy look,” a deep voice said.

  Noah jerked slightly at the unexpected sound. Squinting, he could just make out the silhouette of a man at the next table. The guy was sitting in a corner seat in a dark shadow. Noah wouldn’t have known he was there if the man hadn’t spoken.

  He smiled and lifted one shoulder casually. “I’m in a bar at three a.m. nursing a beer. Isn’t that supposed to be the standard look?”

  The guy chuckled. “Given the fact you’re competing for half a million dollars in about twelve hours, I guess I expected you’d be in bed.”

  Noah wasn’t surprised that the man knew who he was. He was slowly getting accustomed to complete strangers calling out his name or coming up to him on the street, starting conversations as if they knew him. Apparently that was part and parcel of becoming a celebrity.

  “Yeah. Bed is where I should be, but…”

  “Nervous?”

  Noah figured he should just tell the guy yeah, finish his beer and go back upstairs. After all, he’d come to the bar to be alone.

  But Noah never did what he should do. As was apparent by the fact Hollie was naked in his hotel room.

  “Not really. I’ll sort of be glad when the whole thing is over. I didn’t anticipate how much the show would change my life. Auditioned as a lark. Then, well…things snowballed.”

  “So you aren’t enjoying your newfound celebrity status?”

  “It’s okay.” Noah chuckled. “There are definitely some perks attached.” It felt good to be able to talk about some of this. While he couldn’t make out the man’s face, he could make out was seemed a very expensive suit. When the man lifted his glass, he caught a shimmer of an expensive watch on his wrist and heard the clinking of ice in his glass.

  “Scotch?” Noah asked.

  “Macallan.”

  “Never heard of it.”

  The man raised his hand and the waitress appeared as if she’d been hovering nearby. He ordered another glass for himself, and then asked her to bring one to Noah.

  “Thank you,” Noah said. “You didn’t have to do that. I was fine with the beer.”

  “Life is better with scotch, and Macallan is one of the best.”

  Noah nodded his thanks when the waitress set the glass in front of him. The man had excellent taste. It was clearly expensive stuff. “Wow. I need to write down the name of that scotch. It’s amazing.”

  “At ten grand a bottle, it should be.”

  Noah set the glass down, mentally trying to calculate what that single drink cost. He debated asking the man his name, but considering the way the stranger was sitting alone in the dim corner, hiding in the shadows, he clearly preferred his anonymity.

  Before Noah could thank the man again for what was probably the most expensive drink he’d ever have in his life, the stranger returned to the previous conversation.

  “So if it’s not nervousness or depression over the end of the show, what is it that’s driven you to a bar alone in the middle of the night?”

  “A woman.” The response slipped out before Noah could even consider the wisdom of sharing something so personal with a stranger.

  “Ah, the best and worst kind of problem in the world. Are you trying to get rid of this woman or has she just broken things off with you?”

  “Neither. I’m in love with her and I think she might feel the same way.”

  The man had picked up his glass for another drink, but put it back down at Noah’s response. “That doesn’t seem like a problem at all.”

  “It’s Hollie.” The guy had already proved he knew enough about Food Fight to recognize him. He probably knew Hollie too.

  “Ah. I see.”

  “Yeah. If you’d asked me nine, even six months ago if I cared about winning or losing the competition, I would have said it didn’t make a difference to me.”

  “But now you’re on the verge of winning a lot of money—”

  “It’s more than the money,” Noah interjected. “It’s a dream come true. My own restaurant. I’ve wanted that for longer than I can even remember.”

  “You can still open a restaurant. Even if you lose.”

  Noah kept telling himself that. It was true. But it would take a hell of a lot longer. And even then, he wasn’t sure he’d manage to launch his dream restaurant. Half a million dollars was huge. Something a boy raised on the wrong side of the Big Easy had never expected to see in his lifetime.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I could.”

  “I guess it all boils down to what’s more important to you. Money or love?”

  It was a simple question. A choice between two things. And deep down inside, Noah knew what the answer should be. It was what Mama Lewis had been telling him since the first day he met her.

  He’d only been twelve years old. The social worker had shown up that morning and taken him away from his mom. He’d cried and screamed and begged his mother not to let him go, but she’d only shrugged and told him it was probably better if he and his older brother went somewhere else to live. He’d been devastated. And then he’d been pissed off.

  So angry in fact, he hadn’t been able to summon up much fear when the social worker dropped him off at the Lewis house. He’d followed behind Mama Lewis as she showed him and Zac to their bedroom and he’d stayed there all day, through dinner and straight on ’til bedtime.

  That’s when Mama Lewis came to the room and sat on the edge of his bed. She’d told him it was okay to be afraid in a new home with strangers. And he’d exploded.

  A day’s worth of pure white-hot rage spewed out as he told her he didn’t give a shit where he was. He claimed to hate her, her house, his brother and his mother. His voice broke when he spoke the last. Mama Lewis hadn’t missed that sound.

  She’d told him hate took energy. A lot of it. And it made life really hard. She said love was always the most important thing. If you kept hold of that, everything else would simply fall into place. Life would be easy and fun and good things would come your way.

  He hadn’t believed her right away. In fact, he’d been a real pain in the ass the first few months. But Mama Lewis led by example. He saw and felt all the love she had for her kids—biological and foster—and he came to understand how important it was.

  What was more, he’d come to understand why his mother had let him go without a fight. She’d wanted to give him a chance at something better. And she had.

  “I’d rather be poor with Hollie than have all the money in the world.” The second he said the words, all the tension he felt melted away.

  “Good answer. But you know if she feels the same way as you, one of you is still walking away with that money. I don’t think a pauper’s life is in either of your futures.”

  Noah nodded slowly. “Yeah, but I can’t throw the competition. Hollie would know it if I did and it would piss her off. She’d kill me.”

  “And you’re afraid that if you win, she’ll walk? Does that sound like someone you should be pursuing?”

  Hollie wouldn’t walk away from him if he won any more than he would leave her if she did. Noah grinned. “I’m an idiot. Worrying about stuff that won’t happen, that doesn’t matter.”

  The man lifted his glass and Noah followed suit. “Here’s to a happy life for you and your Hollie.”

  Noah took the last sip of the scotch and let the smooth liquor warm him all the way down. “That’s damn fine stuff. I should probably get back up to the room.”

  Noah rose and started to walk away. He’d only gone two steps when the man called out, “If I may make a suggestion about the competition?”

  Noah turned, wishing he could see the guy’s face. “Sure.”

  “If I don’t li
ke the rules of a game, I change them.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  Noah let those words sink in as he glanced around for the waitress. When he found her, he reached for his wallet, intent on paying for his beer. She waved him away. “Mr. Nyte already paid your tab.”

  “Mr. Nyte?” Noah asked. “The owner of the hotel?”

  “Yes.”

  He turned back toward the table he’d just left. The shadow was gone.

  Now he was really sorry he hadn’t seen the man’s face. Mr. Nyte was a legend and a mystery, as very few people had ever seen him.

  He was halfway across the lobby when Mr. Beckett stopped him. “Mr. Lewis? Is everything okay?”

  Noah nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Is your room to your liking?”

  Noah didn’t bother to restrain his grin. “Oh yeah. Funny thing, Hollie and I were given the same room.”

  Mr. Beckett’s lack of surprise answered the question of who put them together. Just not the why.

  “Was there any certain reason we were put together?”

  “That directive came from Mr. Nyte after you and Ms. Mills both selected the same fantasy room.”

  Interesting. Noah regretted once more not knowing who the stranger in the shadows had been. If he had, he would have thanked the man for setting up what was the best night of his life.

  “You’ll have to pass along my thanks.”

  Mr. Beckett nodded. “I’ll do that.” The man reached into the pocket of his suit jacket. “Actually, I’m glad I ran into you. Mr. Nyte asked me to pass this along to you.”

  Noah took the small piece of paper, embossed with the Nyte logo.

  “If you’ll excuse me.”

  Noah glanced at the man. “Of course. Good night.”

  The message inscribed was short, but it packed a punch. It simply said, “Call me if you and Hollie ever decide to work in Vegas.”

  Holy shit. Had Mr. Nyte seriously just offered him a job in one of his restaurants? Until the seed had been planted, Noah had seen himself returning to New Orleans. Now though? What if he and Hollie stayed here? He let himself imagine for a few moments the two of them as co-executive chefs in one of the Nyte hotel’s five star restaurants. It was more appealing than he could say.

 

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