KING: Las Vegas Bad Boys (17 page)

“Destiny?” Claire runs her hands over her face. I see her contemplating the lie, the extent of it. What it would mean.

Basically nothing at this point. Because there is no longer a paycheck at the end. It dawns on me that when she said she needed to go ... she meant home, to Vegas. Not to bed, not for a walk.

She has no reason to stay.

With me.

Here.

But God, I don’t want her to go. I want her to play fake-engaged a little longer.

Because of my parents, sure, but mostly because I’m not ready to say good-bye to her. I need to figure out a way to get money to repay her for being with me. And I also need to figure how to get a job and enough cash to prove I can be the man she needs.

I thought The King’s Diamond was going to solve all my problems.

But now I see, the only thing this trip has given me is Claire.

And that’s more than enough. She’s all I fucking want.

Claire watches me as I process this, and I’m glad she’s letting me hold her hand again, because she steadies me in a way no one else ever has.

“What do you say, Fiona?” she asks, as if realizing I need her to go along with this more than she needs to go home.

“I say we’re having a double wedding,” Fiona says.

T
here are
a few things I know for sure.

1) I can’t get married in some ceremony where the goal isn’t love but instead a bizarre game where the winner gets parental approval.

2) Landon is desperate. I see it in his eyes, the way he clasps my hand so freaking tight, the way he held onto every word about the bankruptcy. This has wrecked him.

3) And that wrecks me. Seeing him like this. So ... vulnerable.

4) I know I should leave. Right now. Just pack my things and peace out … but I don’t want to. I don’t want to leave Landon right now. I want to take care of him.

Is that because my motherly instincts are kicking in? Or it because Landon means something to me.

Means more than a title of fake fiancée.

Means more than I know.

Fiona wants to start planning the wedding as we sip our brandy, but I put her off.

“Fiona, why don’t you take the lead with everything,” I say. “I don’t really care, and not just in a passive way. I mean, I just don’t have an eye for it, and I’m guessing you may. And I know decisions will need to be made fast.”

“I can’t believe this,” Fiona says. “We have so much to plan, in just a few days. And Geoffrey, you have to get me a ring now. A big one, like Claire has.”

“Right.” Geoffrey’s jaw is tense, as if he truly thought Landon and I were going to back out of the double wedding, which would give him an out, too. But these brothers are so competitive they’ve just buried themselves.

But they’ve buried me too.

I can’t get out of this today.

And that’s not the worst of it.

I don’t want out. Not right now. I want to take Landon back to our bedroom and I want to make love to him and make his sexy smile return–because, oh my God, the past hour has been intense.

And then I want to pretend again that my life is
this life
. The one Landon and I are living. Not the one where I’m a single mom living with my mother, making ends meet for Sophia, and always feeling torn.

This one, where I can play make-believe in a castle with a man so far out of my league it hurts.

I don’t want to tell the truth right now, because the truth means the arrangement between Landon and me would be over.

I’m not ready yet to say good-bye to us.

“Landon,” I say declaratively. “I need to go upstairs and call my mother and Sophia. A lot is going on, and I need to explain.”

Geoffrey’s eyebrows furrow at this, as if surprised that I’d be calling my mom now. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Obviously I’m not telling my mother about any of this wedding stuff. But I need an excuse to get Landon up the stairs and in bed. With me.

“Okay.” He stands. “I’ll come with you. We’ll come back down in a few hours for dinner.”

I watch Landon walk over to his father and wrap him in a big hug. “Dad, I know things are hard for you right now, but we’ll get through it.”

“Thank you, son,” he says, clapping Landon’s back.

In that moment I miss my own father, a man who was always good to me, who died far too young. A man who taught me to drive and bought me my first cup of coffee. A man who might have had advice at a time like this.

The other thing I miss, in the space of that hug, is the idea of Sophia having a father, too. But God knows that ship sailed a long time ago.

Landon and I walk out of the room, and I take his hand this time, wanting to lead the way back to bed, back to the place where he and I only see one another.

Not the money. Not the daughter. Not the flipping double wedding.

All I want right now is to make Landon happy, better. I want him to know he’s going to be okay.

* * *

“
S
o
... there’s no paycheck, no successor,” Landon says slowly once he’s shut the bedroom door. And locked it.

“It’s okay. That was so stupid anyways. I mean, it’s not like I really thought it would work.” I shrug, standing a few feet from him. The day has exhausted me.

Emmy, Ace, and Tess arriving.

The meeting gone totally sideways.

A double-effing-wedding.

“Didn’t you though? Weren’t you willing to take risks you’d never dreamed of because of it? Leaving the country, leaving Sophia, sleeping with me?”

“Sleeping with you had nothing to do with the money. We did that before.”

“Hell, yeah, we did,” Landon says, walking toward me. “That first time I saw you naked, I thought I was going to get off before you ever laid a hand on me.”

“The waltz gets you pretty horny then?” I tease, remembering the dance that led us back to his suite.

“You dancing?
Yes
. You doing anything?
Yes
. God, Claire, I want you so bad.”

“What do you want from me?” I ask, unbuckling his belt, undoing his pants, reaching my hand inside his briefs to feel his hardening cock. It grows with each stroke, with each touch, as if I have magical powers.

“I want to make you happy. Forever,” he says. “Not just fake-engagement happy. Really, truly happy. I want to make you smile and make you blush and make you remember that life isn’t so terrible, so chaotic as you seem so intent to believe.”

“You don’t have any idea about the real world, Landon. You grew up in a freaking castle. Your parents are bankrupt, but not from credit card debt ... we’re talking a billion-dollar company. The kind of bankrupt that lets you keep the house.”

“And the yacht.” Landon smirks at the absurdity of the situation.

“Of course you have a yacht.”

“It doesn’t mean I don’t have a pulse on the real world. I just mean you keep mentioning how hard life is, how torn you feel all the time, and I think a lot of people can relate to that. I know I can.”

“How do you feel torn?” I ask him, as he lifts my blouse over my head.

“I’m torn in million fucking ways. Are you kidding me?” He wraps his arms around me, and I sink into him, exhaling as my cheek rests against his chest.

“But how?” I ask. “Like, how are you torn? And I’m not talking about deciding if your burger at In-N-Out should be Animal Style or not. I mean legit things. Grown-up things.”

“You’re kinda killing the mood here, Claire,” he says, unhooking my bra from the back.

“We’ll round back there, I’m sure,” I say, looking up at him as my lacy bra falls to the ground. Being naked with Landon doesn’t feel exposed. It feels like the most natural thing in the world. “Right now I’m just trying to figure out what has your balls in a wad.”

Landon laughs. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you so crass, Claire.”

“Shut up,” I pout, smacking him on the chest lightly. “Answer. For reals, Landon. What are you so torn up about? I mean, I know there are things you are upset over–like The King’s Diamond going under, and Geoffrey being such a prick. But neither of those things worried you before this afternoon.”

“Before this afternoon?” He runs his hands over my shoulders, looking directly at me. Seeing me. “I worried about ever getting my act together. About waking up in ten years and having nothing to show for my life. I worried that the sum of my existence would be my disposable income. So yeah, I act tough with the guys, but deep down everyone worries about not being enough. I’m no different.”

The mood in the room has shifted. And now Landon is sad, maybe sadder, and I feel deflated. But also, I don’t believe him. I don’t think anyone could feel like I do inside.

“You may feel like your life has torn you up, Claire,” he continues. “But you’re actually luckier than the rest of us. You have a daughter who you love and who loves you. You have the sort of love everyone craves. And you don’t even see what you have.”

Everything Landon says surprises me. I thought he was this typical alpha-male, a bad boy with bravado, but he is so much more than that.

He may like to sleep with women, but he also has a heart.

And he’s sharing that with me.

“I know that Sophia is a gift,” I tell him. “I know I’m lucky to be her mother. I
want
to be her mother. But Landon, it’s different. My choices are already made for me. Now I feel like I don’t have any say in my life. It’s like ... my life is always going to be me needing my mom, me piecing together things for Sophia. I just—I just wanted more. For all of us.”

“Fuck that, Claire.” Landon’s hands grip my shoulders, steadying me, but also not allowing me space to retreat—which, right now, is exactly what I want to do.

“Don’t talk like that to me,” I tell him, tears pricking my eyes.

“Well, then, don’t say shit that isn’t true,” he says. “I don’t know what happened to make you a victim but, Claire, you have an entire life to live. You can make any choice you want to. Any day.”

“No,
you
can, Landon. You hold all the cards. I hold ... nothing.”

“Then hold onto me. Let me carry you.”

“Don’t. You don’t mean it.” I pull in my lips, scared of his eyes, looking at me like he knows me. Like he knows my deepest fears, my biggest dreams. Feeling like he sees all of that–and then realizing he
does
.

Landon does know me.

“I mean it, Claire. Try and trust me.”

I’m fighting something I want.

And maybe Landon is giving me the greatest gift by telling me I can stop. Stop saying no.

“I don’t know if I can let you carry me forever. But tonight, yes. Tonight I’ll go anywhere you take me.”

“Well, fuck, woman—that’s better than what you gave me a few weeks ago,” he says, a smile spreading across his lips.

I shake my head, not understanding.

“The night of Ace and Emmy’s wedding, I asked for a night,” Landon explains. “But you were only willing to offer me an hour. This is a step in the right direction.”

And then he lifts me into his arms, and I hold tight.

* * *

When Claire says that she will give me this night, I know what I must do beyond all else: make her realize that she can’t live without me. Because God knows I don’t know how else I’m going to prove to her that I’m the sort of man she needs. I know I’m not good enough, know I’m not much of anything.

That meeting downstairs tore me up in ways I wasn’t expecting. I never think of myself as a man caught up in image ... but all that changed the moment I realized there is a woman who I want to see me as a strong, solid man.

And, right now, what do I have to offer her? I have some cash—but no house, no job, no plans. I’m a floater. But, fuck, I’m ready to be grounded.

I want to put down roots with her.

And, if I’m being completely honest, I also want to fuck her. Now.

Setting her on the bed, I watch her eyes close. For a moment I’m scared she wants to back out. Wants to pack her bag and leave.

But then her gorgeous green eyes open again, and she invites me into her heart by giving the slightest nod of her head, saying
Yes
.

To me.

To this night.

“You are divine.” I kiss her neck as she falls back on the bed. My body covers her and even though I know I’m nothing, nothing she needs ... she’s all I want.

Her legs wrap around my waist effortlessly. As she draws me near, I smooth her hair away from her face, entranced by the way her stark platinum-blonde contrasts her still-bright red lips. Lips I have to kiss.

I press my mouth to hers and she moans softly under me, as if she wants my kiss, too. This empowers me, and I find myself relaxing against her body, letting my tongue slip into her warm mouth.

As our bodies press against one another, my hard cock pushes between her legs. I sit up on my knees, pulling her up into my lap.

“You’re so hard,” she says, her hands on my shoulders, her panties still on. I want them off; I want to get her off. My cock throbs against her, and I know she loves it because she begins grinding against me. Her hips swivel against my groin, and she pulls closer to me as we rock together.

My hands run over her tits, cupping their perfection, and then pulling a hard nipple into my mouth. Sucking her skin makes my erection swell, and I feel the smile cross her lips as our foreheads press against one another.

“I love it when you touch me,” she whispers. I ease her up on her knees so I can tug down her panties. Once they’re off it’s clear her perfect pussy is begging to be kissed. Her panties are sopping wet.