Screwed In Sin City: A Bad Boy Romance

by Cass Kincaid

  Josie is quickly becoming a force to be reckoned with, something I don't know how to prepare myself against, something I’ve never experienced before. Flirting is one thing, sex is another thing altogether. But the electric burn that courses through me just having her so close is more than I know how to handle.

  My tongue finds Josie's the moment her lips part, and we kiss in a way that makes me feel both like it’s a familiar sensation, and yet something that is deliciously new and incredibly intoxicating.

  I let her lead, but I can’t resist letting my fingertips trace up the outside of her arm, up to her bare shoulder and around to the back of her neck, holding her to me. I can't get enough. I can feel my cock already straining against my jeans. Christ, she's going to do me in before I even get the chance to savor every gorgeous inch of her.

  In a moment, Josie is moving up onto her knees, crawling onto my lap and pushing me back against the couch. Her mouth never leaves mine, but her hands are on a journey to explore whatever parts of me she can reach. I help her, and with a tug of the material and the loud rip of a button being pulled loose, my shirt is undone and pulled open. Her hands are on the heated skin of my chest, dragging her nails delicately down each muscle as she takes me in using only her sense of touch. The resultant moan that escapes her mouth is quickly lost somewhere in our kiss, but the sound is enough to make me lose the last shred of chivalry I have left.

  My hands come up to her hips, and despite tucking my fingers under the hem of her shirt, I hold her in place, pushing her back just slightly. “Josie,” I breathe hoarsely against her mouth. “I want you. Hell, I want this. But, are you sure you do, too?”

  Her chest is heaving, and she looks about ready to devour me. I'd be lying if I said the image of her looking so damn turned on while straddling my lap isn't the sexiest thing I’ve ever fucking seen. Her eyes are locked on mine, and the smoldering fire within them is intense enough that I'm not sure it matters what her answer is, because I have no intention of letting myself leave this room without igniting that fire into a burst of flames.

  Thankfully, Josie's answer is merely the roll of her hips forward, rocking so suggestively against my stiff cock that I let out a guttural groan, letting my head fall back against the back of the couch.

  “Jesus Christ.” The words leave my lips sounding like a plea.

  I raise my head again, only to see the glimmer of a smirk on Josie’s face. It registers just before she reaches down between us and begins to expertly unbuckle my belt.

  “You’re on a mission,” I choke out, which only makes her grin wider. When her eyes lock on mine again, they’re dark and wild.

  “I know what I want.”

  Then, her mouth descends onto mine again, leaving no further room for words. Words won’t extinguish the flames between us now. Only touch. And sensation.

  And that’s what I plan to give her—every damn touch and sensation she needs to combust beneath my fingertips.

  She isn’t the only one who knows what they want. She isn’t the only one who knows what she wants.

  I don’t remember consciously doing it, but in a split second I’ve scooped an arm around her back and rolled her off me, onto her back on the couch. I don’t waste time hovering over her, searching her gaze for permission. I already know the answer, and she gave it to me the moment that sexy little moan escaped her lips on a sigh.

  “Fuck,” I whisper, lowering my head to suck and kiss and taste along her collarbone and shoulder. I can feel Josie’s hands fumbling again with my belt. She’s got it undone, but there are too many other erotic emotions flooding her senses to send a coherent signal to her brain, and her fingertips seem unable to maneuver the button of my jeans. I reach between us, undoing the button with one hand.

  Her eyes flit up to mine, locked in a weighty, seductive stare that steals my breath as the sound of the zipper being slid down invades my ears. There’s a moment of stillness between us then, void of sound, of feeling, and of sight...it’s just us, the two of us. Nothing else. We’re not in a moment—we are the moment.

  It may have lasted mere seconds, or hours, I can’t tell. But as she takes me in, just as I relish in every inch of her below me, time suddenly speeds up, back to reality. Back to the fiery lust that explodes between us.

  Suddenly, there’s not enough time left in the world for us to get the barriers between us out of the way. We’re rushed, and urgent, like our lives depend on finding one another. On baring ourselves.

  I’ve got to have her, and I can’t wait another second.

  A low growl emits from my throat as I pull her shirt over her head and undo her bra, then her jeans, pushing them down over her hips along with her panties. “Fuck,” I curse again, so enthralled by the creamy skin I’m uncovering, kissing and licking at her hips and stomach as I push the jeans out of the way.

  She’s just as desperate as she undresses me, pushing and tugging the clothing away to reveal each contour and muscle. Some, she’s seen before in the bright lights of the Excalibur. Others are new, and she’s scanning down my lower abdomen, to my hip bones with such primal desire that my erection only grows harder as she rids me of my boxers, letting it spring free.

  “Ohhh.” Josie’s eyes widen. The surprise on her face would be thoroughly satisfying if I wasn’t so completely lost in the wave of desperation that flooded me, needing to plunge myself into her so bad I ached for it.

  Normally, I’d revel in the chance to have her mouth on my cock, sucking and tasting me until I can’t control myself, but something’s snapped inside me, breaking my resolve into pieces.

  “Josie…” Her name on my lips is a double-edged sword, a curse and a blessing.

  She glances up, gazing at me through her long eyelashes. I can see it in the darkened eyes that stare into me.

  She’s beyond control now, too.

  I don’t fucking think so. I push her back onto the couch, not giving her the chance to act on whatever sexual impulses she’s got flowing through that pretty little head of hers. She gasps at the sudden power in my movements, the bolt of sheer desire to overtake her and own her and fill her completely. But, not once does she protest.

  No, Josie’s not scared. Shocked, yes, but she’s just as fucking turned on as I am, and just as fucking desperate for me to bury myself inside her.

  “Oh, Josie.” I’m beyond words now, yet they’re falling from my lips without thought behind them. I sound almost sympathetic as I hover over her and position my rock-hard cock against her entrance. She gasps again, but I don’t hear it. Because the only thing I’m tuned into is the wetness I can feel against the tip of my hardness, and the way she spreads her legs apart wider, giving herself over to me.

  “Oh god, Josie,” I whisper again, and a devilish grin makes the corners of my mouth turn up. “Welcome to the wild side.” With that, I plunge into her.

  7

  Josie

  He’s so fucking hot.

  That’s my last coherent thought before Derek pushes me back onto the couch with such a fierce and animalistic look in his eyes that I’m unable to do anything but succumb.

  And there’s nothing else I’d rather do. I can feel the liquid heat pooling in my core, and the scorching desire flushing my cheeks.

  But none of that compares to the moment he thrusts himself inside me.

  He’s relentless, giving me little time to adjust around his thick cock. Loud gasps and moans pass my lips as Derek moves within me, one hand propping himself above me and the other cupping one of my breasts, rolling the nipple between his fingers.

  I’ve managed to encircle my hands around to the back of his neck, my fingers pressing into the skin there to push his face down to mine. His mouth covers mine again, our tongues exploring each other with a renewed urgency.

  I’ve never wanted anything the way I want—need—Derek to take me, wholly and completely. I can’t think of anything beyond the mix of pain and pleasure that encompasses me as he delivers each thrust in hard, fas
t synchronicity, claiming me with a vengeance.

  I clutch my thighs against his hips, holding him to me, holding myself to him. The taut muscles of his neck and back beneath my fingertips bunch and clench with each vigorous movement, and my fingernails dig into his heated flesh in time with each sharp, desperate gasp I make.

  Every forceful thrust drives me closer to madness. The edge of my control is near, and I can feel myself teetering as the muscles within my core begin to clench around him. The need for release is building inside me with such fervor that I’m gasping for air, small whimpers and pleas falling from my lips.

  “Derek…” I beg him. “Derek, I—”

  “Open your eyes, Josie.” His voice is forced from the exertion, but the command is clear. “Open your eyes and come for me.”

  His demands coerce my eyes open, and it’s a challenge to keep them that way as he continues to pound into me relentlessly.

  But I do, I open them. And the moment I see his blazing eyes staring down into mine, mixed with the rough grunts and growls emitting from his throat with each thrust, the last shred of my control is demolished.

  “Derek!” Every muscle within my body clenches hard as my release rips through me, an explosion of fireworks igniting behind my eyes as I cry out with the passionate agony that overtakes me.

  Derek doesn’t let up, fucking me harder until I can feel the twitch of him within me, and hear the change in his breathing against my neck, labored and intense. “Oh...Josie!”

  His release follows in the wake of mine, and Derek buries himself within me again and again until my voice is hoarse from crying out his name, and the exertion causes him to collapse onto me, pushing himself to one side.

  Neither of us say anything for what seems like a long time. And I’m surprisingly okay with that, because my heart rate needs time to level out, and my mind needs a moment to catch up to the reality of what’s just happened.

  When it does, it’s everything I can do to stifle the sharp intake of breath I feel the need to take in.

  My god, Josie, you don’t even know his last name.

  It’s my first thought, how juvenile and irresponsible I am for doing something like this. Like him. But I quickly follow it up with a much stronger feeling—how absolutely amazing it was.

  “You know, I can practically hear the wheels turning in that pretty little head of yours from over here,” Derek says, the amusement evident in his voice. His fingertips trace small, intricate circles across my upper abdomen, and the sensation stirs another wave of longing in me.

  My God, what has he done to me? “Sorry,” I say quietly. “I guess I’m just not used to letting the heat of the moment get the best of me.”

  Derek's fingers leave my stomach, only to reach up and tilt my chin so that I'm facing him. “I kind of like the Josie I was just introduced to in the heat of the moment,” he admits with a wry grin. “There is no blame or shame in giving yourself over to a moment, or taking something that you want purely for the sake of wanting it.”

  Somehow, Derek makes what we’ve just done okay. Beautiful, even. And, in a way, it is. It doesn't seem to matter to him at all—and it matters to me less than I thought it would—that we don't really know each other, let alone love each other.

  I'm still contemplating that thought when a shrill ringing sound breaks the silence in the room, and I turn to Derek to see his eyes gazing beyond me, fixed on the pile of clothes beside the couch. “Shit, that's my phone,” he huffs. “I wonder what time it is.”

  I have no idea how much time has passed since Derek showed up in this room, but judging by his hasty movements as he wriggles his way off the couch, I'd say that it's later than I think.

  Derek manages to retrieve the phone from the pocket of his discarded jeans before it goes to voicemail. His voice rings out through the room, sounding hoarse. “Hello?” He listens, and I visibly see his shoulders relax as the voice on the other end of the line speaks. “Just one second, okay?” He pulls the phone down toward his shoulder blade, pressing the mouthpiece against his skin to block the sound. “Sorry, Josie, but I have to take this. I'll just be a second.”

  He doesn't wait for my response. Silently, and without bothering to pull any of his clothes on, Derek walks from one end of the room to the other in all his naked glory, disappearing into the bathroom near the entryway.

  The click of the door is just as loud as my beating heart as I try to make sense of what's going on. While I wait, I seemingly begin to come to my senses, and I scoop up my clothes from the floor. As I pull them back on, suddenly not able to bear the thought of him coming back out of that bathroom and seeing me just as naked as he is, my mind begins to conjure up ideas that may or may not be plausible as to why Derek was so insistent on answering that phone call. If it was work, surely it could’ve waited until later? If it was a family member, he would’ve been able to let it go to voicemail, wouldn't he?

  All I keep thinking is that there's more to it, and that I've put myself in a situation by going against everything my moral compass says, and by being with him and letting one moment of passion get out of hand.

  Not for the first time, I think the same thing that's been crashing around inside my head since the moment I agreed to see him at the pool earlier today. You don't even know him.

  I don't have enough time to analyze that truth longer, as the door to the bathroom swings open and Derek comes out. He's at least had the decency to tie a bath towel around his waist, albeit dangerously low on his waist. It’s incredibly sexy.

  My voice sounds shaky to my own ears. “Everything okay?”

  Derek gives me a crooked grin, nodding. “Everything's fine.” His eyes graze over my clothed body. “Sorry I left you out here alone,” he adds softly, his tongue tracing across his bottom lip. “It couldn't be avoided, but I’m sorry, nonetheless.”

  “Who was it?” The question falls from my lips before I realize I've said it out loud, and I immediately despise the neediness it portrays. “I just mean…”

  “It's fine,” he replies with a wave of his hand, beginning to pluck his clothing from the floor. He’s just pulling his shirt back over his broad chest when I see the shadow of uncertainty veil over his eyes. “I'm really sorry, Josie, but there's…something I have to do.” His eyes are locked with mine, as though he's trying to decide whether I understand or not. “I have to go,” he adds. “Even though I hope you believe me when I say that I really don't want to.”

  My stomach plummets. I feel sick, standing there with tousled hair and the scent of him still lingering on my skin.

  His gaze looks sincere, but I know better. God, I should have known better long before now.

  “You're leaving?” The question no longer sounds incredulous on my lips, the neediness now replaced by the edge of anger.

  Derek is just buttoning up the last button near the collar of his shirt when his eyes meet mine again. “I mean it, I wish I didn't have to. But it's something...important. I don't really have time to go into it right now, but I will. I hope you can understand.”

  “Oh, I understand perfectly well.” I run my hands through my hair to smooth it down, an action that I do subconsciously when I'm really nervous.

  I don't see him cross the floor, but in an instant Derek is in front of me, his hands on my shoulders, and his head ducked to look into my eyes. “It's obvious that you don't,” he replies. There's no trace of anger or resentment in his voice. “I want to see you again, Josie. I need you to understand that, more than anything.”

  “Just not tonight,” I bite out. “Not now that you've got what you wanted.”

  For the first time, Derek looks hurt. “It's not like that, and you know it.”

  “Then tell me how it is, Derek.” I raise my head, glaring at him. “Tell me who that was on the phone, and why you're leaving.”

  “I...I can't.” He dips his face toward mine, and must have been intending to kiss the pain from my features, but I take a step back. He lets me, and his hands
drop to his sides.

  “You could if you wanted to,” I state. “You could tell me if you actually meant what you just said. You could tell me, you just don't want to.”

  “Josie, I'll be completely honest with you and answer any questions you have,” he offers, running his hands roughly through his hair. “I just can't do it tonight.” He looks ready to say more, to defend his stance and make me see reason. But then, Derek's shoulders lower slightly, sagging with the weight of whatever he's keeping from me. “When are you leaving Las Vegas, Josie?”

  It's on the tip of my tongue to just tell him to go to hell, that the last thing he needs to worry about is seeing me again. But, even with the embarrassment and hurt that's flowing through my veins like ice water, I can't deny the fact that part of me wants to believe him. Part of me wants Derek to be more than the man I met at an all-male strip show, and more than the man I slept with on a whim during an impromptu trip to Vegas with my girlfriends.

  And that part of me is stupid, and gullible as hell.

  Thankfully, the part of me that thinks he's just a man on the lookout for a quick piece of ass on the Strip is bigger and stronger than the forgiving part of me. Either way, I answer truthfully. “I leave on Monday afternoon.”

  “Good,” Derek breathes out along with an exasperated breath. “That means we have time. There's another Thunder And Lightning show at the Excalibur on Sunday night. I want you there.”

  “Derek, I'm not going to another—”

  “Josie.” He cuts me off, his voice tight. “I don't care if I have to arrange for tickets for every one of your friends to be at that show on Sunday night. I want you there, and I want you, and only you, backstage before I go on stage.”

  “I can't do that.” I'm being unreasonable now just for the sake of standing my ground.