KING: Las Vegas Bad Boys(4)
“You’re all talk, Landon,” Claire says, smirking. Her lip curls in such a teasing way that I’m sure when she’s in a bedroom she knows exactly how to play. “I heard you’ve taken the lead with the property investment that Ace was wrapped up with. That isn’t something a washed-up Englishman would do.”
“I suppose.” I shouldn’t be surprised Claire knows about the property, I’m sure Emmy tells her everything. “But I don’t even know what I’ll do with that half-burned down space.”
“I’m sure someone as smart as you will figure it out.” Claire squeezes my hand as the song comes to an end, and suddenly I don’t want to let her go.
I want to take off her dress, if I’m being honest.
We stand on the dance floor, arms still holding one another, and the MC calls everyone to watch as Ace and Emmy cut their cake.
I swallow, all of a sudden wanting Claire so badly. I want to see her glowing skin bare, her blonde tresses pulled down, my hands running over all of her.
Fuck. My cock twitches in desire.
Claire turns her head, and I follow her gaze. We watch as Ace and Emmy cut their cake, shoving it in one another’s faces. It’s sugary sweet, the entire thing.
“Do you want to go somewhere with me?” I ask Claire.
“Is it somewhere less ... I don’t know ... perfect?” She looks around the ballroom filled with bouquets of red roses—Emmy’s signature flower. There are piles of decadent food and glossy people and flawless ambience. “It’s an awful lot to take.”
I see then that the reason Claire doesn’t have eyes all starry like Tess and Ashley is because she’s jaded, bruised. Not like Emmy—not because of a sordid past full of drugs and whatnot. No, Claire has had her heart broken and she can only take so much love-at-first-sight nonsense.
Good. She’s even better to take to my suite than I thought. She won’t get clingy after tonight. She isn’t looking for forever, because she doesn’t believe in it.
“I’m taking you to my room, and we’re going to fuck ourselves silly. It won’t be rose petals and love notes. It will be hot sex, just one night.”
“I can’t do one night,” she says, and for a moment I wonder if I’ve read her all wrong. But then she licks her lips, smiles. “I can only do one hour.”
Claire
I don’t do hook-ups, mostly because the guys who offer them are creeps at the casino. And Landon is a casino junky, and an absolute no-go as far as boyfriend material is concerned. To be honest, what I’m really looking for is father material.
But I can’t help but feel myself get hot at the idea of his hands on my skin, his body pressed tight to mine ... oh, God, I’ve never been with anyone as sexy as Landon.
Those regular shmoes I’ve been dating don’t have ripped muscles and strong jawlines and absolutely panty-wetting accents. Beer bellies are kind of a guarantee.
Landon does not have a beer belly. He has a rock-hard chest, at least from what I could tell as he led me around the dance floor.
“Well,” Landon says. “If you can only spare one singular hour, we’d best be getting on.”
“We should wait until they’re off, shouldn’t we?”
“Look,” Landon says, pointing at the happy couple. “They’re ready for their wedding night to begin as much as we are. Watch.”
The MC directs everyone to wish the bride and groom a happy life, as Emmy tosses her bouquet into the crowd. Tess dives for it. Bless her heart, of course she does.
Then Ace sweeps his bride up in his arms and they’re off, toward the helicopter on the top of the casino, to the airport and Tahiti and most likely ridiculously amazing beach sex.
I’m not jealous, I’m just really, really horny all of a sudden. Standing so close to Landon is getting me all bothered.
Reaching for a flute of champagne that a waiter carries on a tray, I take a swig of liquid courage. I need it. Before today’s spa with Tess and Emmy, I hadn’t been properly trimmed down there in well, years.
To say I’m a bit rusty in the sex department is an understatement. Sex with hotties is never on my priority list. That’s usually taken up with Kindergarten drop-off and bedtime stories.
So. Okay. The truth is I haven’t had sex with anyone since Sophia was born.
Five years ago.
Sex is never on the agenda. And most of those guys I date don’t get past second base. Because if isn’t going to be the real deal, I don’t have time to waste.
“Let me grab my purse and you can do with me whatever you like.”
I mean it. I need it. I don’t even know if I know how to do it anymore. But for one hour, I want to try and remember.