Worth the Chance(46)

I’m so consumed with the feel of his big hands holding my face in place so he can kiss the daylights out of me, that I don’t even hear the flight attendant’s first attempt at a polite interruption.

“Sir, she’s going to need to take her own seat now. We’re getting ready for landing.”

My face crimson with embarrassment, I want to crawl under the seat when I realize that the flight attendant is speaking to us. Vinny, on the other hand, finds us being caught acting like two horny teenagers amusing. “Sorry, she just can’t help herself sometimes.” He shrugs and gives her the dimpled smile. “I’ll make her go back into her seat.”

“Vinny!” I smack his chest and mock glare at him as he winks at the flight attendant.



Once we’re checked into our hotel, Vinny seems more like himself. Without asking, he orders a bottle of the wine that I drink and a platter of fruit from room service. I consider arguing with him again about making decisions for me, but then I realize how the conversation will end. Do you want wine? Yes, but that’s not the point. Are you hungry for a little fruit? Yes, but that doesn’t mean you had to order it for me. So I settle on picking battles where I want a different end result.

“So you never told me about the interview you’re doing tomorrow. Is it anyone I’d know?” Vinny asks.

Freezing in place, panic overcomes me. Lying has never been my strong suit, but lying and guilt combined isn’t a combination easy for me to mask on my face. I’m grateful that my back is to him when I’m forced to respond.

“Ummm…I doubt it, just some Senator.”

“Senator huh?” Vinny comes up to stand behind me as I unpack my toiletries. I stop breathing, half expecting him to tell me he knows what I’m up to. Wrapping his arms around my waist, he nuzzles my neck from behind. “Is he young? Should I be jealous?” He kisses his way up to my ear.

His warm breath and light nibbling cloud my thoughts, I stand unmoving, not quite sure how to respond. Vinny nudges me playfully for an answer. My response comes out a bit too defensive, “Ummm…no, he’s old enough to be your—”

Lucky for me, we’re interrupted by room service knocking at the door. “Do you mind getting that, I need to wash up,” I ask.

“Sure.” Vinny swats my ass playfully as I practically run to the bathroom. Looking at myself in the mirror, I douse my face with water, desperate to clear my head. After a few minutes, I regain my composure enough to venture back into the bedroom and I’m surprised when I find room service still here.

“Would you mind signing an autograph for me? I’m a big fan. I’ve seen all your fights. I’m even going to the exhibition tomorrow.” The coquettish young server sways back and forth. She’s cute, in a Midwestern cheerleader type of way.

“Sure. What do you want me to sign?” I’m pretty sure he didn’t even mean the question suggestively, yet I watch as the girl’s cheeks turn pink.

Removing a piece of hotel stationary from the drawer, I walk over, interrupting their conversation. “Here you go.” I hand the girl the paper and smile. It’s a sugary smile, the type that other woman can instantly read and know the true meaning hidden beneath.

Vinny looks at me curiously before taking the paper and scribbling his name.

The little tart bounces up and down excitedly, taking the autograph from his hand before turning back to me, reading my face, and taking the hint. “I’ll see you Saturday, Mr. Stone.”

I have a full glass of the already uncorked wine poured, before Vinny even gets back from seeing her out. Popping a strawberry into my mouth, I smile and raise an eyebrow. “She was cute.”

“Oh yeah? Not my type. Guess I didn’t notice.” He takes two grapes from the platter, tossing one into his mouth, and gently slips one between my lips.

Sipping my wine, I decide I probably don’t want to know, yet I can’t stop myself from asking, “So what is your type, Mr. Stone?” I mimic the server in response.

Vinny takes my wine glass from my hand and sets it down on the cart. Wrapping his arms around my waist, he pulls me close to him. “I only have one type.”

“And that is?”

“You.”

I roll my eyes, but down deep, I love his response. He kisses the tip of my nose and pulls me close to him in an unexpected, tender hug.

“What do you want to do tonight?” I ask, content in just staying right where I am for the next three or four decades.

“Whatever you want.”

“Really?” I pull back to look him in the face.

“Sure, as long as whatever you want entails staying in this room and me inside of you.”