Shine Not Burn(21)
“Did what? I didn’t notice you doing anything. Do you want to put your shoes on?” He pointed to the spot under my stool where Kelly’s shoes lay in a small, spikey pile.
“If by saying shoes you mean the Devil’s torture devices down there, then no. I definitely don’t want to put them on.” I frowned at the way-too-high heels, wondering how much trouble I’d be in if I just left them there.
He leaned over and grabbed them, crossing them over in the middle and holding onto them with his free hand. “How about I wrangle them for you ’til you feel like putting them back on?”
“Good plan. I should probably go up to my room and change into something more practical anyway.”
“You’re staying here? In the hotel?” He stopped, a few feet away from the blackjack table, causing me to bump into him.
“Yup. In a bitchin’ suite.”
“Humph.”
“Aren’t you?”
“Nope.” He didn’t offer any further explanation and I didn’t ask for one. It didn’t matter anyway, right? No need to complicate things.
He started walking again. Our bodies were side-by-side, his upper arm rubbing up against my right breast. Even that innocent bit of touching sent a thrill through me, especially as I wondered if it was intentional on his part. He didn’t have to walk so close, but he was. Or maybe it was just me, clinging to him like a piece of seaweed clings to a rock. God, please don’t let me be seaweed!
“I haven’t heard that word in a long time. Bitchin’. I like it.”
“Stick with me, cowboy. I’ll show you all kinds of retro cool stuff. Like my Jennifer Anniston ‘do. You like it?” I flicked my hair back and forth before glancing up to see if he was looking.
“It’s pretty,” he said, smiling a little. He turned and stopped, causing my arm to come out of his. He was just inches away, staring down at me. Putting the shoes in his other hand with the cup full of chips, he put his free hand on my shoulder, his expression suddenly going serious. My heart dropped with a thunk. He’s going to tell me he’ll see me later. He’s going to disappear. I knew it. The Jennifer Aniston hair flip was too much. Dammit!
“Listen, Andie. I know you’ve had a lot to drink, so I kind of feel like the gentlemanly thing to do is give you a chance to walk away … if that’s what you want to do.” He was staring at me with those damn glowy blue eyes of his, and I felt like I was being hypnotized by them. Being with him was so much easier to manage when I wasn’t looking right at him; I could notch down the sexy to something manageable when his attention was anywhere but on me.
“Walk away? Walk away from what?” Playing a little hard to get seemed like the prudent thing to do just in case he was just being a good samaritan by hanging out with me. He sure sounded like one now, and in my experience, falling for a guy who has no interest in me is a particularly painful process.
He put his free hand on the top of his hat and moved it back and forth, making the curls in the back move too. “I don’t know what I’m saying. That last Bud went right to my brain and addled it a little, I’m afraid.”
“Addled. Good word. Are you coming up with me while I change my shoes?” I had zero fear of Mack being the wrong kind of guy to invite up to my room. He totally didn’t come off as rapist material. Me, on the other hand, I wasn’t so sure about. He was nearly irresistible, and if he got the ball rolling, I sure wasn’t going to stop it from going straight downhill a thousand miles an hour. No matter what though, I didn’t want to leave Vegas with any regrets. If he wanted to get all hot and sweaty together, then we were going to do that, no question. Screw second thoughts, screw ex-boyfriends who break up by text message, and screw complications. All I wanted was one night of reckless abandon so I could get all this craziness out of my system and go home with a clean slate, ready to kick ass, take names, and get on with my life.
“Do you want me to come up?” he asked.
Screw playing hard to get. “Yeah. Come on.” I took him by the hand and half-dragged him over to a bank of elevators. “I think my friends are up there. I don’t have a key so they’d better be.” I pushed the up button, trembling a little over what I was doing, namely bringing an almost complete stranger up to my room an hour after meeting him so I could rip his clothes off and be a wild and crazy slut. I was so ready to be a prostitute right now. Twelve hundred bucks was definitely going to buy him a blow job. All I could think about was what he might look like under all those cowboy clothes and whether that bulge I’d seen going down his leg would measure up to my imagination.