Her Sexy Vegas Cowboy(13)

His smile returned, and his heart warmed at her flustered explanation. He tried not to notice that her robe had fallen open slightly as she turned toward him, but the sliver of flesh was distracting and his body responded. “Great. What do you want to do?”

She looked at the bed; then her eyes roved over his body, only partially covered by a sheet, and he smiled wider, realizing where her mind had gone. His body flooded with heat, and he leaned up a little more to hide his arousal.

She apparently managed to gain control of her thoughts, because she looked him in the eye and, a touch too casually, said, “Anything. I just got some work done and Cindy doesn’t expect to see me until later this afternoon. I think they had a really late night, so I probably won’t even hear from her for hours.”

“What kind of work?” he asked.

Part of him wanted to avoid discussing the real world, not find out anything about her job, her family, her life. It was too dangerous, if she was as interesting as he suspected. But another part of him just wanted to hear her talk some more.

When she spoke, her voice was halting. “I’m an editor. But I don’t think we should talk about—I mean, I think this should—”

She broke off, but he got what she was saying loud and clear. “No details. Sure. ‘What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas’ kind of a thing.”

She narrowed her eyes for a moment and he was worried she was going to ask him exactly how many times he’d done something similar. It would be impossible to explain how this was different, and he couldn’t see any way that conversation would end well.

Luckily the expression faded and she just nodded. “Vegas only. That sounds perfect.”

“Okay, no details. Just a fun weekend. How about we go downtown? I haven’t been there in forever, and that’s about as Vegas as you can get.”

She glanced again at the bed, and her face showed disappointment for a half second, but then her smile returned. “Sure. I’ll need to shower, but I could be ready to go in twenty minutes.”

He stood up and walked toward her, allowing her eyes to roam over his naked, aroused body. Nearly losing his cool demeanor because of the intense scrutiny, he picked her up out of the chair. “Oh, I think we’ll need longer than that.”

She laughed as he nuzzled open her robe a little more and set her down on the bed, and the sound was so happy that he couldn’t wait to hear it again.

“What did you have in mind?” she asked, the laughter still in her voice.

“Oh, I’m sure we can come up with a few things,” he answered.

They kissed, long and deep, without the rush and desperation of the night before. Jessica slid one leg around him, her body exposed to him as he leaned over her. When they finally came up for air, she slowly slid her leg back across him until her thighs were closed and said, “Just what kind of woman do you think I am?” as she half-attempted to close her robe. Her grin was wicked and teasing.

Aaron’s hand managed to catch one of her breasts before the robe closed completely, stroking it until her smile turned genuine and she leaned back to give him more access, letting the robe fall back open.

“I think you’re an incredibly sexy woman who plans on having a very fun weekend torturing me,” he answered.

She laughed again and her leg slid back around him. As his mouth closed on hers once more, his hand slipped lower, down the fluttering muscles of her stomach until he reached her folds, making her gasp.

He waited until she was squirming and almost begging him to don the condom and move on top of her.

In the morning, it was slow and almost painfully wonderful as he slid inside her again. Her back arched and he watched as she closed her eyes, her mouth formed into a perfect circle. This was going to be the best weekend of his life.

And quite possibly the hardest to get over.

When they were both spent, he rolled to the side and watched her face relax as the intensity of her climax dissipated. A smile played on the edges of her lips.

Finally, after they caught their breath, she stood. He took in her entire, lithe body. She grabbed her robe as though she was going to put it on, then hesitated and set it back down. He was glad she’d decided not to cover herself—he loved looking at her.

She pointed to the bathroom and said, “I need to take a shower.”

He didn’t want to assume he was invited, so he waited a moment, listening to the blood shoot through his veins. It felt more like fire. He raised his eyebrows in question.

“You want to join me?”

Aaron didn’t need to be asked twice. He was out of the bed and next to her in a flash, his hand on the small of her back. She laughed her loud, ringing laugh. “So that’s a yes?”

She had the best laugh.

The warm water was soothing, and he was again intrigued by this girl, with her interesting mix of shyness and provocative power. He couldn’t say if she was self-confident or self-conscious or both. He just couldn’t peg her into any one hole.

He shampooed her hair and soaped her body, massaging every inch of skin he could touch, just as he had fantasized only the day before. The shower took much longer than either of them would have expected, but he certainly wasn’t going to complain.

They dried and dressed, and Jessica called room service and ordered a large breakfast since they hadn’t eaten the night before. As they ate and talked, Aaron immediately realized that Jessica was smart. He’d dated a few smart girls, but none of them were quick and clever like her, and he reveled in the knowledge.

“So, were you going to call me?” he asked after a brief pause in the conversation. It was a dangerous question, but he needed to know the answer.

She pressed her lips together for only a moment, but it was enough to see that she didn’t like the question. “I was considering it, but I lost your number.”

“Lost it?” How could she have lost it?

“Well, I didn’t lose it, exactly. I tossed it in the trash after...”

“After I was an asshole at a strip club.” Why did she have to see him at his absolute worst like that? “I’m sorry, again, about that. Not my finest moment.”

She shrugged, as if it didn’t matter. He wanted to tell her that it did matter, that he wasn’t that guy, but the words died in his throat. The worst thing was that in some ways her image of him was true.

It wasn’t a happy thought. He pushed it aside. “Well, it looks like I lost a perfectly good bookmark. Serves me right, I guess.”

She seemed to pick up on the need to change the topic, because she didn’t even flinch at the abrupt shift. “What were you reading? Something rodeo-themed? Like The History of Cowboy Hats or something?”

Aaron paused. He should have expected that question, but he didn’t want to tell her and have her think he was stupid. What a terrible change of topic “I’d rather not say” was.

Jessica shifted so her legs were tucked underneath her in the chair, and she leaned over the empty plates toward him, her eyes wide with interest. “Come on! You have to tell me. It’s more embarrassing than The History of Cowboy Hats? Was it Fifty Shades? It was, wasn’t it?”

He couldn’t help smiling at her excitement. It didn’t look as though she was going to give up. “I’m reading Harry Potter,” he confessed.

She leaned forward even more, giving him a pleasant view of her cleavage. “Ooh. Which one? Are you one of those Harry Potter fans who reads all of them over and over?”

“No, this is my first time reading the series. I’m on The Goblet of Fire. They’re good, but I’m not some crazy fan or anything.”

A sudden shift in her eyes made him smile. “How many times have you read them? Be honest,” he wheedled.

She looked so cute when she was embarrassed. “I’m going to plead the Fifth,” she finally answered.

Aaron considered pushing for the real answer, but he decided to let it be. It was enough to know that she didn’t think he was weird for enjoying a bunch of kids’ books. Jeremiah had given him so much crap for reading them that it was a nice change of pace to be around someone who clearly thought they were as much fun as he did.

They moved on to discuss movies and favorite shows, and the more they talked, the more he found he liked her. How could he not like a girl who loved Die Hard? If it wasn’t for her love of Sex and the City reruns, he would have wondered if Jeremiah or someone had paid a woman to pretend she was the perfect match for him.

“Sex and the City is a great show. You’re not allowed to hate it if you haven’t seen it,” she insisted.

“I’ll take your word for it. I’m not going to watch it,” he answered, loving how her forehead wrinkled when she had that earnest look on her face.

He noticed they were both very careful to steer clear of anything personal. He wanted to ask what kind of editing she did, exactly, but stopped himself. Part of him didn’t even want to know what city she was from. He felt as if bringing up their real lives would remind them of the expiration date looming so close on their weekend. He was also slightly worried that she wasn’t completely unattached, which would explain some of her reluctant behavior, and he didn’t want to find out if that was the case and end this whole thing.