ACE:Las Vegas Bad Boys(95)

The moment we’re in the room, she reaches for a bottle of water and drinks it nearly in one gulp.

“Thirsty?”

“Just can’t afford to have a hang-over. I rarely drink so much. It was a bad idea.”

“You seem sober enough now.”

She doesn’t slur her words or seem to be overly emotional—both stereotypical tells of a woman nearly drunk.

“I suppose I am. I had four glasses of champagne over the course of four hours, so I’m pretty good now.” She lets out a deep breath before adjusting her jean jacket.

I don’t know much about Claire, but I can tell she could use some money. She serves drinks for a living, but her shifts are terrible ones, usually during the day, and anyone in Vegas knows the good tips are in the late hours, when there are plenty of drunken men. Working eight a.m. to three p.m. is not a lucrative job opportunity.

“Landon,” she asks, setting down the water and walking toward me. “Can we finish what we started?”

She’s caught me off guard—which is odd. That never happens with women.

I’ve been so preoccupied with trying to understand who Claire is that I haven’t noticed the look of desire in her eyes, the longing.

“Because, right now,” she whispers. “Right now, I need to feel ... more than I am.”

“Oh, Claire, I’ll make you feel more than enough.”

I pull her to me, and in one fell swoop my mouth is on hers.

She tastes so sweet. She looks like a vixen, but each kiss on my lips is tender and soft and full of longing. The kisses of a woman who has never been properly loved or properly fucked.

Her hands cup my face, as she pours herself into me. Her tongue finds its way into my mouth, encircling mine as we deepen our connection. The heat rises as she grinds against my growing cock, and I run my hands across her back, pulling off her coat, tugging down the straps of her black dress and her black bra.

I fill my hands with her perfect tits. They aren’t massive and fake—Claire is one hundred percent real and it’s refreshing and fucking hot to be with someone who seems not to be at odds in their own skin.

Massaging her tits, I watch her perky little nipples grow hard. I pull one into my mouth and suck as she pulls her dress off.

“Oh, fuck, Claire, you’re so sexy,” I tell her as she undoes my belt and buttons. We tumble into the bed, and I’m on my back as she pushes my trousers down, off. I pull off my shirt, wanting to feel her skin against my chest.

“You’re so hard,” she moans, taking my stiff cock in her hands as she presses her body on top of mine.

Our bodies are hot, so close to one another; she holds my cock in her hand as our mouths collide again. We kiss hard as my hands push at her panties. I want to touch that soft pussy again. I want to see those pink lips part, only this time I want my cock to spread them.

I want to feel her tightness around me as she swirls those hips of hers above.

She runs her fingers over my cock, massaging her clit with my base as she pushes us against one another. She bites my lip as I slap her little ass, and I love that she’s getting wet as she touches me.

I want to touch her. I push aside her panties, and dip a finger into her juicy folds, wanting to loosen her a little before I plunge my massive rod into her.

Her entrance is so soft and warm, and my fingers flick slowly, wanting her to enjoy every moment of this. Her pussy is so ready for my cock—my hand is sopping wet when I take my fingers out.

She wrestles the panties off herself, and I appreciate her desire to be completely bare. It’s exactly what I want, too.

A slow grin spreads across my face as I take in her naked body, every inch of her skin smooth and soft and ready to be devoured.

Her hands run over my chest, her blonde hair falling in her eyes. I brush it away, wanting to see her green eyes and heart-shaped lips, wanting to memorize the slight upturn of her nose and the subtle dimple in her left cheek.

“You are so beautiful, Claire. I could look at you all night.”

“Don’t,” she says. “Don’t say words that aren’t true.”

“You are quite the jaded woman, aren’t you. Not into sentiment?” I kiss her shoulders, her protruding collarbone that for some reason is fucking making me hard as a rock.

“Look, Landon, I’m not bitter. Just a realist. And I don’t need you to tell me I’m pretty to sleep with me. Right now, I just need to be fucked. It’s been way too long.”

Her mouth is on mine again, and I love that she isn’t tiptoeing around what this is for her. This is about sex for her. And it can be about sex for me, too.

But, damn, she really is gorgeous.

I roll on a condom, and I see her eyes flash with fear for a moment. I watch as she quickly looks over to her purse on the floor.