Las Vegas Layover (6 page)

Chapter Ten

Cold water didn’t help one fucking bit. Sebastian cranked the heat, hoping to relieve some of his aches. His dick might be doomed, but his shoulders didn’t have to be.

He honestly hadn’t come here for sex. Not that his body gave a damn about his good intentions when Clara was around. Every logical thought sailed right out of his head the moment he touched her.

She only slept with men she cared about, men who also cared about her. Yet she’d been rubbing her hot little body all over him, responding to his touch with the same desperation zinging through his blood. In that moment he knew that—though she barely knew him and had every reason to hate his ass by now—Clara trusted him. That realization had been the jolt that slowed things down. He’d probably never deserve that trust, but he was damn well going to try.

God, he could still smell her, a combination of that kinky-sex perfume she wore and the fruity body wash on the shelf next to him.

Yeah, his dick was totally doomed.

He was about to take matters into his own hand when a prickle on his neck made his eyes pop open. He blinked a few times, not believing what he saw.

“Hi,” Clara murmured in a sultry voice that tightened his balls. Her cool fingers traced the track of water sluicing down his chest. He shivered despite the warmth.

“I—I thought you just got out of the shower,” he stammered.
Really, dumbass, that’s the best you could do?
Why not just tell the gorgeous—
naked
—woman to get out while he was at it?

“I did,” she said with a crooked smile. “But I feel really,
really
dirty again.”

She left no question as to her meaning. Those slender fingers wrapped around his cock and his eyes closed in bliss. Her touch was poignantly, painfully tentative as his arousal kicked in her hand, his entire body shuddering.

“Clara.” He gripped her wrist to keep her from stroking him. “You know you’re playing with fire again.”

“I sure hope so, because I’m already burning.”

It made him the worst kind of asshole, but that was all the permission he needed. He released her wrist, running his hands slowly up her silken arms to her throat. The moment he let go, her clever hand went back to work, ripping a groan from him. He could endure her torture for only a few smooth strokes before he pushed her hand away.

His lips found hers. The touch of her mouth was a revelation, a devastating rebirth he would need to examine later. For now, he concentrated on the feel of her fingers as they slid into the wet hair at his nape, scraping along his scalp. He pressed her back against the smooth stone. This time she didn’t need direction. She wrapped her glossy thighs around him just as she had before.

He kept her there, pressed against the wall as he ravaged her sweet mouth. But he couldn’t stand that for long either. He wanted to see and touch every gorgeous inch of her. Without breaking their kiss, Sebastian killed the flow of water, grabbed a towel from the wire rack, and maneuvered them to the king-sized bed, patting haphazardly at their bodies as they went.

“Tell me you weren’t joking about the condoms,” Clara whispered as he sprawled out on top of her, his mouth moving down the column of her throat toward her breastbone.

Sebastian paused to look at her and a smile spread across his face. She looked so disgruntled. Probably because he’d stopped kissing just shy of her breasts. “There were a few things I wasn’t joking about.” She opened her mouth to question him, but he shook his head, laughing. “And of course I have condoms. I was coming to see you, and a man can hope.”

She started to laugh, too, until he leaned down and pressed his mouth to her skin. She moaned as he laved at her nipple, working it to a tight peak. When he scraped his teeth over the tip, she writhed under him, whimpering. He rewarded her by blowing cool air over her wet, sensitized skin. Her hands tightened in his hair, trying to bring him back to her mouth.

“Oh, no,” Sebastian said, refusing her silent demand. She growled at him and he chuckled. “Relax, beautiful. We’re going to be here for a while. You’re going to scream my name before I give you what you want.”

He slid one hand to her shoulder, holding her against the mound of pillows at the head of the bed. Her chest heaved, the ragged sound of her breaths filling the air. So slowly it all but killed him, he moved his other hand to cover one breast, kneading with gentle fingers while he went back to worshiping its twin with his mouth.

He desperately tried to hold on to his control as he suckled her. He caressed the creamy length of her thigh, down to her knee and back up, until he was gripping her gorgeous ass. She moaned his name again. Her fingernails bit into his shoulders and her back arched, pressing her breast more firmly to the damp heat of his mouth.

Dying to finally see all of her, he pushed up to sit on his heels and forgot how to breathe. She was so beautiful it damn near broke him. Every flawless curve of ivory skin, naked and flushed rose with passion, begged for his attention. And for the first time in his adult life, he didn’t know where to start.

His heart beat against his ribs as he watched her pulse thrum at the base of her throat, her chest pumping in the dim light shining from the bathroom. Even in his indecision, he couldn’t tolerate not touching her. His fingers tickled along her concave belly, loving the way her muscles tightened at the feather-light contact.

He thought he’d be happy to sit there, staring at her for hours. But as his eyes continued the agonizingly blissful journey down her body, he snapped. Hooking one arm beneath each of her knees, he pulled her to the edge of the bed and propped her feet up on the top of the low dresser behind him.

“What are you doing?” Clara squeaked.

“I’m hungry.”

Those two words and one cocked brow were all the answer she needed. “But I’ve never let anyone—”

He hushed her protest with a swift, hard kiss and moved to kneel on the floor between her legs. “I’ll be gentle, sweetheart, I promise.”

She shook her head, propping herself up on her elbows as tears welled in her eyes. “No. Please, don’t.”

Sebastian knew he looked like a kid who’d had his candy snatched away, but he couldn’t help it. That was how it felt.

Until she placed one small hand on his. “Don’t be gentle,” she whispered. “Don’t let me think.” Her fingers brushed over his cheekbone. “Take it all away, Sebastian. Take me away.”

He stared hard into her eyes for one long second, searching her heart and his own. There was fear, a lot of fear. And sadness too. But there was also a fair amount of hope and faith. Faith in him. Another bolt of hot desire pierced him. But not the way it normally did, straight to his groin. This shock had better aim. It went directly through his heart.

He nodded. To himself? To her? He didn’t know, but she lay back against the covers.

Determined not to overwhelm her, he started at one ankle, kissing, nipping, licking an excruciatingly slow path toward the apex of her legs. One hand playing low on her belly at the edge of dark brown curls, he breathed hot and moist over the very heat of her passion. Her sweet, musky scent hit him like a gut punch, making his mouth water, but he was careful not to touch—not yet. This was a first for her, and he would make it magical if it killed him. Starting again at the ankle, he tormented his way up her other leg. But this time his fingers splayed across her belly moved low to toy within her curls. He slid one finger into her heat, groaning as her muscles clamped around him, her hips bucking into his hand.

Need racked through his body, a tremor that shook his soul. “You’re so wet,” he growled against her thigh as he slid his finger free. She stared down at him in wide-eyed wonder as he slipped that same finger into his mouth and groaned. So good. He couldn’t wait another second. Pushing slick, silky folds of hot flesh aside, he settled his mouth on her heat.

He meant to be gentle, despite her demands. But, fuck, she tasted like fine wine and he drank her down with a desperate thirst. Maybe it made him a sap, but he knew he could live like this for the rest of his life, feasting on her, hearing the incredibly sexy sounds she made in the back of her throat, and die a very happy man.

Her fingers bit into his shoulders, a silent demand for more.

Oh, yeah
, he thought, his moan vibrating against her clit. If she’d needed him to slow down or, God forbid, stop, he would have. His head might’ve exploded from the strain, but he would have complied. Instead he answered her need, penetrating her entrance with his tongue. Clara strained against him, nearly wild. But nearly wasn’t good enough.

“Just let go, sweetheart,” he murmured. He licked a hard line up her crease, making her gasp. “I’ll keep you safe.” With that promise—given without question, without limitation—Clara ground herself against his face and shattered, screaming his name.

Her reaction, so honest and uninhibited, made him frantic to be inside her. He gritted his teeth as the tremors of her release throbbed against his lips. She flopped back onto the mattress, boneless and sated. Seconds later he was there, condom in hand, tossing her up to the head of the bed.

She laughed, a joyful sound that ripped at his heart. In the past eighteen hours he’d heard her laugh many times—at his stupid jokes or politely to strangers. Even her joy at dinner had been rusty and contained. This sound was different. It was as though she was finally free.

He made quick work with the condom and settled over her again in no time at all. “Now listen, big boy,” Clara said, planting her hands against his chest. Her eyes widened, her gaze fixated on his throbbing dick. He waved it at her and she laughed. “That thing is huge, and I’m not sure it’s going to fit. So take it nice and slow, okay?” No hint of fear darkened her eyes as she stared directly into his.

Again, her trust humbled him. When he hesitated, she cupped his jaw in one of her precious hands. He smiled and turned his head, pressing a kiss to her palm.

“Slow and easy is my specialty,” he replied, teasing her entrance with gentle prods.

His little pixie growled at him. “Not
that
slow.”

With one smooth slide so torturously slow and tight it nearly made him come right then, Sebastian buried himself to the hilt. She was tighter, hotter, better than he’d imagined, though he didn’t know how that was possible. He’d known sex with her would be great. But it wasn’t. This was mind-bending. This was home.

Holding deathly still, he asked in a voice that clearly showed his strain, “You okay, Clara?”

Her only answer was to cling more tightly to his shoulders.

When he lifted his face from the crook of her neck, he found tears sparkling in her eyes. “God, sweetheart, I’m sorry.” He started to withdraw, feeling like asshole of year, but she violently shook her head.

“Don’t you dare go,” she nearly sobbed, lifting her hips to take him deeper still. “Ride me.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Gripping her hips with both hands, Sebastian began a slow, rhythmic rock. Too soon he felt his own climax nearing. He wasn’t normally such a minute-man, but then nothing about being with Clara felt normal. Every nuance, every sensation was something more, something extraordinary.

“Come with me, Clara,” he panted against her throat. “Scream for me again.” With one last earth-shattering thrust of his hips, she did just that, his name again on her lips.

They lay together, limbs tangled, for what could have been seconds or hours. Time meant little as their frantic hearts calmed and their harsh breaths quieted. When Sebastian was finally pulled back to earth, he realized he was on his back, Clara tucked close against his chest. He was stroking her back with the tips of his fingers. It felt…right.

“I want to see you again,” he said quietly as his hand continued the path that seemed to soothe them booth.

Clara propped herself up on one elbow and stared at him.

Sebastian didn’t say anything more. He couldn’t. The way she looked at him now, her clear green gaze so distant, it was as if he’d already lost her.

Chapter Eleven

Clara was going to be sick. Did they really have to do this now? Couldn’t he let her have a few more moments in the fantasy? But Sebastian’s scowl said there would be no avoiding the issue. So she took a deep breath and faced the truth.

“Look, I’m a big girl. You don’t have to pretend for me.” She sat up, leaning her back against the headboard and pulling the sheet tight to her body. “I knew what I was getting into.”

“Well, that makes one of us,” Sebastian snarled, rolling out of bed and disappearing into the bathroom to get rid of the condom.

Clara frowned. What did he have to be angry about? He did this kind of thing all the time. It was her heart that was breaking. When he walked back in, she demanded, “What was that supposed to mean?”

He pulled a pair of boxers from the plastic bag and jerked them on. “It meant I didn’t know you’d kick me out of bed the second you got off.”

She recoiled as if he’d slapped her. “I didn’t kick you anywhere. I just called bullshit because I don’t need to spend the next week wondering if you really will call when we both know you were just looking to get laid.”

“You know what? I deserve that. I really do. There have been so many times when that was all I wanted. But not today.” Crossing his arms over his chest, he stood at the foot of the bed and glared at her. “Not from you.”

She felt a rush of relief that made her dizzy. But she didn’t have time to think about it. Sebastian wasn’t finished yelling at her yet.

“If you’ll remember, you’re the one who jumped me while I was in the shower trying to get a grip on myself.”

Oh, she remembered all right. She’d definitely been the one getting a grip on things. The sight of him naked and soaking wet would both haunt her dreams and fuel her fantasies for years to come.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Clara said, groaning because here she was thinking about getting him naked. Again. “You were just an innocent bystander. Is that it?”

“I was trying to—” Sebastian stopped, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “You’ve always been honest with me, Clara. Don’t start lying now.”

She bristled. “Don’t you dare call me a liar.”

“If you try to tell me that this,” he motioned back and forth between them, “was nothing more than one night in Vegas, then I’ll call you a fucking liar all I want.”

Tears clouded her eyes and her voice cracked. “How is it supposed to be anything else? I live in Charlotte. You live in St. Louis.”

Sebastian shrugged. “I fly for free and I can bring you out to see me for really cheap if you want. I also get at least three days off a week. It’s not ideal, but it’s doable. I know married couples who don’t get that much time together.”

Her mouth fell open. “This is crazy. We barely know each other.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed, some of the anger melting out of his expression as he took her hand. “Maybe. Or maybe you know me better than anyone has in a long, long time. You know more about my baggage than my family does. You know trust is hard for me and that I talk before I think.” His thumb rubbed circles over the inside of her wrist, but he wouldn’t look at her. “And maybe I know you pretty well too.

“I know that you love hard, but you have a tough time letting loose. I know that you like your meat rare and you have a wicked temper, but you’re just as quick to forgive. The rest we can learn.” He shrugged again. “Isn’t that what relationships are about?”

“You’re serious?” she whispered, her voice trembling. She was so afraid to believe.

“Come on, Tink. I like you. A lot. You keep me on my toes and you never make me feel like I’m not good enough—with the exception of that whole ape thing, which I’m excusing because you were scared shitless. Can you really blame me for wanting to hold on to that?”

Nothing had ever felt better than when he pulled her into his arms, nestling her cheek against his bare chest. He rubbed his chin against the top of her head, so familiar, so comfortable.

What if this was real? What if she didn’t have to face the future alone? But as he eased her back against the bed, Clara knew that this was so much more than simply having someone to hold her. This was what it felt like to be treasured.

“Besides,” he pulled the sheet away from her body, lightning flickering at the edges of his eyes, “there are easily nine hundred eighty-three items left on my to-do list.”

Happy little shivers danced down her spine as his lips found her breasts again. “I know I shouldn’t ask, but I’m going to. What to-do list?”

He paused to look at her. “A thousand and one ways to make Clara Howe scream my name.”

She rolled her eyes, but her belly had already started the slow burn it reserved just for him. “There’s no way I screamed your name eighteen times.”

“Hmm, you’re probably right,” Sebastian said with his signature smile, slow and easy. “I guess we’ll just have to start over.”

And that’s exactly what they did.