I watch as she drops her robe and steps into the shower. Her backside taunts me with its curves.
I adjust my cock. Hell, I remember, all right. In fact, she’s made certain I’ll never forget.
It doesn’t matter what day of the week it is; brunch at Spades is always a mad house. One of the downsides to being the most popular casino in Vegas.
As the limo pulls up to the glossy black building, I realize that this is a terrible idea. Not the sex we just had in the limousine; that was off the charts. I mean coming here.
“We can’t eat here, Tess,” I say, zipping my fly. “We must have been in a sexed-up fog to forget that the press will be all over this place.”
She moans, her head falling back against the leather interior. “I’m seriously hungry. And I know you think I’m sexy for whatever reason, but let me tell you, hungry Tess isn’t sexy. She isn’t cute. She’s a monster.” She pulls up her panties and adjusts her skirt, and I try to focus on anything besides the taste of her that’s still on my lips.
“I don’t think you could be a monster. Maybe an ogre. But a monster? No.”
“I feel like you’ve confused your mythological creatures, Jack. Ogres are monsters.”
“I feel like we’re getting off topic,” I tell her as the car comes to a dead stop. There are dozens of people here at the valet.
“Let me call Emmy,” Tess says. “We can eat at her place. Tell the driver to swing around to the private entrance.”
A few minutes later, Tess and I climb out of the car at a much more discreet entrance to the hotel. There’s an elevator back here at the end of the parking garage that has direct access to Ace and Emmy’s penthouse.
“It’s weird we didn’t come this way in the first place,” Tess says, as the elevator doors slide open.
Stepping inside, I try to explain. “Ash would never have let me come this way.”
Tess tilts her head. “What do you mean?”
“For her, image was everything. She Snapchatted her entire existence.”
“But you loved her, right? I mean, a year is a long time.”
When the elevator comes to a stop I grab her hand, wanting to clarify before we head into Ace and Emmy’s place.
“I thought what she and I had was love. But I was wrong.”
“How do you know you were wrong?” she asks, her voice a whisper.
“What Ash and I had couldn’t have been love,” I tell her, “because what I feel for you is more than that, and we aren’t in love.”
“We aren’t.” She says it as a fact, not as a question, and that makes me want her all the more. She isn’t trying to get me to be something for her, to use me; she’s not asking me for a single thing.
But damn, I want to ask her for a lot. I want to ask her to stay.
“What are we then, Tess?”
“We’re late for brunch.” She shrugs, dismissing the idea of us, and more. Dismissing the truth that she and I found last night.
It fucking pisses me off, because she has no fucking clue what I would do for her, and it doesn’t even seem like she cares.
I’ve been wrong about Tess in a lot of ways; maybe this is just one more.
“Just like that?” I ask. “You’re gonna blow me off?”
“Jack, don’t be like that.”
I try to shake it off, but damn, her words cut something deep. “Like you said, you become a monster when you’re hungry. So let’s go get you fed.”
TESS
So that was intense.
Jack and I walk into Ace and Emmy’s apartment and I immediately know this was a bad idea.
First of all, Jack is all pissed because what, I’m not begging him to be my … what? Does he want me to say I want to be his secret lover? His mistress? His fuck-buddy?
I don’t want to be any of those things, but clearly he doesn’t like the fact that I’m not fawning all over him. Or maybe he’s mad because, you know, I have to skip town to avoid my psychotic father who may be looking for me.
And honestly, if he wants to get mad at me for that, instead of, you know, asking some follow up questions about my family, fuck him.
And I don’t say that meanly—but, seriously, I have no room in my life for unnecessary drama.
And, second of all, Emmy knows something is off right away.
“So, this is a surprise,” she says, arms crossed, tapping her finger on her elbow. “I just called Ace and told him to come up. He’s been at the office.”
“I feel bad, if we’re putting you out,” I say, holding my purse, prepared to just leave the way I came.
“What are you talking about? I have a personal chef, Tess. Ricky can make you anything you want.”