#TripleX (32 page)

No.

Nope.

My plan was that if I ever did meet him I would just get even by super gluing his balls to a chair or something. One of those folding chairs.

“What’s going on?” I whispered into the phone. Angelisa rolled her eyes at me. I should just tell her I was trying to suck out all the advice I could from her brother, but then she’d be all pissy that I didn’t just go to her. She thinks she knows everything.

“We need your help,” he said, his voice urgent.

“Say whaaa?” I asked. Crap. How many glasses of wine did I have?

“Matt wants to win Angelisa back.”

What the hell?

Is this high school?
I heard it never ends.

“What does that even mean?” I asked, laughing.

“We’re here—in Vegas. Look, just tell her you need to go to the revolving, rooftop restaurant on the top of the Stratosphere,” he made a muffled sound on the end of the phone, and then his voice cleared again, “You need to be there in an hour. You go down to the bar in the lobby after you drop her off at the restaurant. I’ll meet you there.”

“I’ll get the crazy glue—and folding chair.”

“What?” he asked.

“Uhhh, nothing. Forget it. You’ll see. Oh, one day. You
will
see.”

The jerk hung up on me. I needed a
hot
glue gun for my revenge.

I glanced over at Ang whose lips were squished into a tight frowny line. She knew I was hiding stuff from her, and she was upset.

“Ummm… so we have some meeting in an hour at the Stratosphere?” I said.

It came out sounding more like a question than something she should do. I couldn’t help it; I was blindsided. I couldn’t think up something fast enough. Oh wait, there was a lie that she’d kill me for, but hey, I was desperate. “I think someone wants to meet and talk about our book. They heard a rumor and they want to…”

“Oh my GOD!” she screamed, clapping her hands and busting out into some weird Ohio State cheer thingy-dance… thing. “Oh. My. God.” She chanted it over and over again and was doing weird waves with her arms. I had to physically stop her from continuing.

“Come on, let’s hit the rest rooms and freshen up a bit. I have a feeling this meeting is going to change lives… I hope for the better.” I said, really hoping that I didn’t completely screw things up for Matt and her.

From what I had witnessed over the last few months traveling with Angelisa, it was obvious that she had a really great marriage. She had someone she could trust and depend on, but she just needed to be more open and honest with him about what she was going through—and what she wanted in life. Even though I was screwed over by Scott, I wanted to believe that a relationship could make it even if it was weathered by a few storms. I think if both parties wanted to make it work, they could.

After making sure her makeup and outfit was perfect, I walked her to the restaurant and stood back by the door. I couldn’t go any further, because there were too many tears in my eyes. I wanted this to work for her so badly. I wanted her to have that happily ever after we love to slap at the end of books that made readers breathless.

I wanted that—for her.

I needed that—for her.

We all needed that.

When I saw that she realized what was going on, she took a fast glance at me and narrowed her eyes. I blew a kiss to her and hoped she knew how much I loved and respected her as a friend and how much I just wanted her to find her happiness again. Whatever she decided.

I walked down through the extravagant lobby and made my way toward the front bar. I needed more alcohol like I needed a hole in my head, but hey, what else was there to do in Vegas but drink and gamble? I was holding off all the gambling until later, just so I could max out Scott’s card for a little extra turn of the knife.

I’m such a bitch
.

Scanning the area as I stepped inside, I froze when my eyes meet Jake Ryan’s. Jake Ryan in the flesh. He was looking straight at me, casually leaning up against the bar, smiling.

He must have recognized me, because he held up his beer with one hand and saluted me with his other.

A strange awkward feeling curled through my belly.

Ewww.

God.

Why did Jake Ryan have to be good looking?
Son-of-a-bitch.

I was staring at him. Gawking.
Kill me now
.

My face turned hot, cheeks burning and scorching with embarrassment. Why? Because when I looked at him, the first thought that popped into my empty head was the realization that I hadn’t had sex in over six months. Six months. God, that was like 180 days—at least. Jesus. That was vaginal degradation and desperation. Couldn’t even remember the last time I had an orgasm. I squeezed my eyes closed. Jake was so off limits—friends don’t do friends’ brothers. It’s like the universal girl code or at least it was in, say, 1991, when I last dated.

Throughout my dumb inner monologue, Jake just held my gaze. He was tall and lean with dark, almost pure black hair and striking blue eyes.
He better have a mouth full of messed up teeth
.

Summer teeth. Some are here—some are there! Summer teeth. Please have “summer teeth.”

I didn’t want to look at my best friend’s brother and
like
what I saw. My hands clenched against my sides as I walked up to the stool next to him and sat down.

“So, I finally get to meet my little sexual apprentice,” he laughed, sliding himself over onto the bar stool next to mine.

I flinched back. “You make it so sound deviant. I’ve only asked you for a few pointers, Mister. And you know what? Some of your advice sucks ass.”

Jake smiled. And his stupid teeth were perfect and white. Why couldn’t he have “summer teeth?” Why couldn’t I just catch a break, here?

Chuckling, he asked, “Sucks ass? Please. Do tell me what advice I’ve given you that
sucks ass
.”

“For one, Brazilian waxing. That was the most horrible thing that I ever—”

“You… got a Brazilian wax?” I swore his pupils dilated. I’d never actually seen that happen before.

I narrowed my eyes at him and scrunched up my face. “Definitely not talking about this with you. Anyway… so, I just escorted Angelisa to the restaurant. Let’s have a drink and hope I didn’t mess up a good marriage.”

Jake shifted on his stool, and the heat of his body rolled over me. Oh crap, crap crap. Think of dead bodies. Grandmas and mothballs and—

“So if they’re in the restaurant that means there’s an enormous luxury suite upstairs.
Empty
.” The words were spoken slow and sensual, whispered and intentional. I froze as a spark of heat unfurled and crept across my chest. Jake lifted a hand and ran his thumb over my cheek. My heart jolted, and I sucked in a gasp as his finger glided over my skin and down my neck.

My thoughts spun in circles. I needed to think of the most disgusting things possible and walk away.

Dead puppies.

My eighth grade teacher with that nasty mole on the edge of his nose.

The tips of Jake’s finger followed the low scoop line of my shirt, slowly tracing the skin just underneath. The touch was soft and made me ache with need and want and so many other things that made me wiggle on my stool. Jake’s gaze darkened as his fingers reached the lowest dip in the material, and he ran the back of one of his fingers over the soft curve of my breasts.

My heart slammed against his touch; my flesh tingled wherever his finger landed. The skin pricked into goose bumps that spread across my chest. My entire body reacted to his touch. My insides ached. My breasts felt heavy, heady, and my hands grasped onto the edge of the bar, fingernails digging into the wood. The Brazilian wax I’d just had added to the sensations. My God, I felt everything down there as if he were already touching me.

“Come on, gorgeous,” Jake whispered, his body shifting closer. His lips were against my ear; the heat of his breath prickled at the flesh of my neck making me shiver. “Take me upstairs. Let me really teach you all those things you’ve been asking about.”

I turned my face only to find his lips no more than an inch away from mine. They were perfect.

He launched off the stool and pulled me to my feet, slipping his arms around my shoulders and tugging me to the exit. He seemed comfortable in the situation.
My God, did he do this often?
My belly flipped and tugged as we reached the elevator. Jake leaned his body against mine as he pushed the up button. His gaze darted back and forth between my eyes and lips. I felt so out of sorts, out of control, and the Brazilian wax was making everything tingle. Son-of-a-gun, he was so right about the Brazilian wax.
So very right
. I felt like pure sex. If sex were a person who hadn’t had an orgasm in a million years and was just about to dry hump an almost stranger up against a wall, then that is what I felt like.

Once inside the elevator, Jake’s hands squeezed at my waist. He
wanted me
. Lowering his head, his lips kissed and nipped at the base of my neck and along my shoulder. I hadn’t done anything like this in… in… God, too damn long.

Fiery flicks of sensation soared across my skin, twisting and churning and aching between my thighs. My head thudded back against the wall of the elevator, and his mouth was instantly on mine. I leaned into him. My body relaxing into his as my breasts pressed against the warmth of his chest, and his hands cupped the curve of my neck and the swell of my hips. His mouth tasted like liquor and mint and wild hunger. A hoarse needy sound vibrated in the back of his throat as his tongue slid against mine, and his hands clutched tighter at my skin. I never wanted the elevator to stop.
Just keep floating up, break through the roof, fly me up to the sky
. His lips were like fire; his hands an inferno, and I wanted to be burned to nothing but ash.

The elevator slowed to a stop on the top floor. As the doors slid open, Jake stepped out and fisted my shirt in his hands to tug me out and draw me up against him. His lips brushed against mine and growled against them, “Card key. Now.”

My hands fumbled through my purse, spilling coins out across the carpet as I pulled out the card. Jake grabbed it greedily out of my hands and pulled me toward the room. “How do you know what room we’re in?” I asked with a shaky voice.

His lips tugged up, and a sexy smirk covered his face. Arrogant jerk.
Sexy arrogant jerk
. “I’ve stayed in the suites here before,” he whispered, backing me into the door. Stepping backward, I flattened my body against the door. Jake’s hands slid up my sides, slowly, over the front of my shirt, lingering on my breasts. Holy shit. Lowering his head against the base of my neck, he lapped out his tongue and tasted. My body melted with heat. My knees weakened and trembled with need.

“You smell so good,” he rasped as his lips and tongue nipped and licked its way up my throat. His body leaned closer into me; the feel of his erection against my leg made me gasp out loud. Oh my God. It was big. Big-big and hard, and I needed in the room immediately.

One of his hands left me, leaving the place on my skin cold in its wake. I grabbed it back and like a greedy little streetwalker, slid it between my legs. Because really… I hadn’t been touched there in what felt like years, and it was screaming for attention at that particular moment. His fingers squeezed with just the perfect amount of pressure, and I moaned into his mouth as he kissed me.

“Baby,” he said hoarsely pulling back, “I need my hand back to open this door, or I’m fucking you hard up against it right here in the hallway.”

The card was swiped immediately, and the door flew open.

He walked me in backward, hands cupped to my face, his mouth on my mouth, his tongue sliding slowly and wet against mine. The back of my knees hit into the edge of the bed as the room door slammed itself shut, and his fingers were slipping beneath the hem of my shirt and raising it up over my breasts. My hands attacked the buckle of his belt and tore at the stupid leather strap and the metal piece, and I growled in frustration when I couldn’t undo it fast enough.
Dear God, I wanted this. I needed this
. My shirt was off, flung somewhere over his shoulder, and his eyes, his eyes were wide looking at the sexy bra I thankfully put on. “Gorgeous,” he whispered.

Oh my God.
He was looking at me the way I look at cupcakes
.

My breathing hitched. It came out faster and harder. Undoing the button and zipper of his jeans,
finally
, I sank my hand into the waistband, but I didn’t have to travel far. “Yesss,” he moaned as I slid my hand down against him. It was hard, thick—God, so perfect. Gently, he moved his hips against my fingers, rocking into me.

He cursed out a groan and pulled down both cups of my bra. Heat shot across my chest and down through my legs. His head dipped, and his mouth scraped softly around a nipple. His hands moved down over my hips, down the front of my thighs as his tongue and teeth danced across my chest. The touch of his fingers on my body sent a million, tiny, electric pulses through my veins. They sparked and teased and played over my skin as he slipped the button of my jeans open and slowly peeled the material down over my hips.

His body, his heat, everything lowered down slowly. His lips were nipping and sucking, tongue darting and lapping as his head traveled lower. He slid his tongue in lazy soft circles around my belly button and bit softly at the edges. My belly was
flat
, curvy in only the most perfect places. My muscles, every single one of them, tightened with want and need—with a strange sort of nervousness that I hadn’t really felt in years. His head shifted lower until his hot breath fell warmly over my panties, yet he didn’t move to touch me there, just lingered a breath away from me and slowly pushed the rest of my pants down my legs.

I fisted my hands through his thick dark hair as he took the edge of my panties and slipped the soft material to the side and gently blew out a warm breath against my bare skin. Oh my God. The waxing? The pain?

So.

Worth.

It.

I felt every hot breath that fell against my skin. It made me ache and pulse and throb. Jesus, I was
panting
. The sensations were so raw and tight that I felt I was just about to explode from his hot breath.