Vegas Vacation (Destination Desire) (2 page)

Julie and Karen groaned pitifully, but Meg crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow at them. “With melodrama like that, you’ll get along perfectly with my depressive basset hound.”

“The last time he was in the shop, he chewed up some very expensive yarn and then made sad puppy eyes at me. Made me feel bad when he was the one who chewed stuff.” Julie held up her hands. “I can’t take the guilt. That mutt is a menace.”

“I’ll do it.” Karen sighed. “Maybe it’ll encourage Tate to take me out of town, if only to escape the doggie breath.”

“That’s the spirit.” Meg grinned, enjoying the chance to torment her friends. Hey, turnabout was fair play. But her smile faded when she realized she’d actually agreed to spend her break in Las Vegas.

Somehow, she had a feeling she was going to regret this.

Chapter Two

Meg got stuck in the middle seat on the plane.

She should have known it was a bad sign. The seventh grade science teacher, Carla, dumped her rum and Coke all over Meg’s white shirt and tan capris on the flight to Vegas. No amount of dabbing in the miniscule airplane bathroom had managed to get the sticky stain out or removed the stink of distillery that floated in a cloud around her.

Awesome start to the vacay.

She slumped in her seat, feeling disgusting, and cranked up the volume on her iPod to drown out the two English teachers’ giggling. How had she let Anne talk her into this? How could her three best friends have conspired against her this way? She could be home with a glass of wine—in her hand and not on her clothes—reading the new Cleopatra biography, sitting in the wicker chair on her balcony with her feet propped on the railing. She clenched her teeth as turbulence made the plane shudder and her stomach flip.

Thank God this was a short flight.

Thirty minutes later, she was waiting for her luggage to come around the carousel. The flash of bright lights and jarring sounds from the slot machines made her head ache. The cacophony seemed to permeate every inch of the airport. She really should have stayed home and played a hermit—it had to be more fun than this. The rum and Coke had formed a stiff crust in her shirt, bra, and capris. All she wanted right now was a hot shower in the hotel. Her stomach rumbled loudly—a reminder that she’d been trapped in the plane during lunchtime. Food would be good too, but cleaning up and a new set of clothes came first.

She refocused on the luggage carousel just in time to see her bag go trundling past her. Leaning forward, she made a grab for it. And missed. “Crap!”

“Got it.” Finn plucked the heavy suitcase from the conveyer belt as if it weighed nothing.

Of course, it had to be him who came to her rescue. The smile he gave her was enough to melt any woman’s resistance and leave her panting after him. With his auburn hair, laser blue eyes, and body to die for, he was too gorgeous for words, and he clearly knew it. She stiffened her spine when he beckoned her toward him. She knew she needed to retrieve her bag, but getting anywhere near the man was a hazard to her mental health.

She wanted him. It was as simple and as complicated as that. She wanted to use his very fine body as her personal jungle gym. All night long. This kind of visceral reaction to anyone was completely foreign territory for her, but her hormones did a tango every time he was nearby, reminding her it had been a very long while since she’d made time to go on a date, let alone get laid. Turning him down last year had been hard, but dating colleagues was beyond stupid. Hadn’t she seen with her own two eyes just how bad it could go?

But he was still standing there waiting for her, his eyebrows rising when she remained rooted in place and continued to stare at him.

Suck it up, Meg
. While she jogged around the cluster of people jockeying for their belongings, she took a moment to be grateful the airline hadn’t lost her bag. At least that had gone right. She reached Finn’s side, forced herself to meet his gaze, and smiled. “Thanks for your help.”

“Anything for you, Ms. Phillips.” His grin was warm and far too wicked for her peace of mind. She could really get creative with that
anything
he was willing to do for her.

No, no, no.
He worked at her school. He was off-limits. She knew better than to go down that road. She’d strayed down it once and that had been more than enough. Hell, it had been so bad she’d never even told her best friends about it. Did she want a repeat performance on public display? No way. She and Finn both leaned down to reach for the extendable handle on her suitcase, their fingers tangling. Just that simple contact made her breath catch. She’d never touched him before—never allowed herself the temptation.

Their eyes met, locked, and for one heady moment she thought he might kiss her. Warmth spiraled deep inside her at the very idea and settled low in her belly. He still held her hand when they straightened, his palm rough with calluses that stimulated her softer flesh. She licked her lips, tried to come up with something to say, but her wits had deserted her. The intent focus of his gaze moved to her mouth, and his fingers tightened on hers.

She couldn’t prevent the way her body reacted—her nipples beading, her body heating with insidious need. “Finn, I…”

Anne chose that moment to hustle up to them, luggage in tow. Meg jerked her hand away from Finn and took the handle on her bag while Anne started talking. “Oh, good, you have your stuff. Carla’s already hitting the slots, can you believe it?”

“Yes,” Finn and Meg echoed at the same time. He chuckled, slinging a huge backpack onto his shoulders. It looked beaten up, as if he’d hiked across some rough terrain. He had the well-toned body to make the idea believable.

Meg plucked at her stained, gummy shirt and a waft of alcohol hit her nose. “Let’s round her up and catch the shuttle. I’m ready to get to Caesar’s Palace. Now.”

It took bribing Carla with a round of drinks to get her off the slots and into the van. Then Ed, the eighth grade science teacher, broke out the flask of whiskey, passed it around, and they had a party shuttle to the hotel. When Ed handed the flask to the English gigglers, he managed to slosh some of the booze onto Meg. Seriously, it was
Teachers Gone Wild
, and the lushes were aiming for her. Rum, Coke, and whiskey. Great. Just great. Meg clenched her fists and told herself she was a non-violent person as the amber liquid spread across her chest and oozed between her breasts. She glared at Anne, who flinched and turned to flirt outrageously with the shuttle driver, presumably so she didn’t have to talk to Meg.

After they arrived, it took ten minutes to pry Anne away from the guy. She’d scored his number and a date for that night, and by then the rest of the teachers had staggered into Caesar’s Palace to check-in for the week. They’d scattered when Meg and Anne finally got to the reception desk. Meg handed over their registration confirmation and breathed a sigh of relief. Soon, very soon, she would have that shower she craved.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, we don’t have any more clean rooms available at the moment. Housekeeping is still working on them.” The woman gave back the confirmation paperwork and offered a helpless shrug and a sympathetic smile, which turned into a slight grimace at Meg’s stained shirt. “Check-in isn’t technically until four p.m., but you can come back in a little while to see if anything is ready. You can leave your bags with the bell stand in the meantime.”

“Okay. Thanks.” Hope crumbling, Meg felt her lips actually shake. It was one o’clock. Three whole hours until she was guaranteed a place to stay.

Anne tried arguing with the woman, but Meg took a step back and turned away. What a disaster. She stank. She was covered in cola goo.
And
her shirt was still damp with whiskey—not exactly how she wanted to wander around in the Nevada heat. She really, really wanted to be home right now, where she had access to a bathroom. This vacation was a huge mistake.

Frustrated tears stung in her eyes—or maybe it was the alcohol fumes rising from her shirt.

“What’s going on?” Finn appeared out of nowhere, ducking down so he could look at her face. “Meg?”

“I don’t want to be here.” Her voice actually wobbled when she spoke, and a flush scorched her cheeks. Emotional meltdown in front of the hottest guy she’d ever met. Yep, it really was possible for this trip to get worse. She blinked fast and glanced away. “They don’t have a room ready for us yet. Looks like the rest of the group got to the ones they had.”

Anne stomped up, fire blazing in her eyes. “Well, they’ve given us a free dinner at one of the hotel restaurants for the inconvenience, but there are apparently no rooms to be had right this second. At all. They’re booked. What the hell? No rooms in Vegas?”

“It’s a fight weekend. Heavyweight boxing.” Finn shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Some of the guys got tickets.”

“I’m going too,” Anne said. “I just didn’t think it would suck up all the rooms in town.”

Meg spoke through clenched teeth. “Goody for you.”

“I’m not one of the people going. I have other ideas for my time here.” Finn’s tone was so virtuous it made her snort. He looked her over and winced. “Sorry Ed got you with the whiskey, too. I was all the way in the back of the van, so I couldn’t grab him in time. Why don’t you bring your stuff up to my room, use my shower, and change clothes?”

Meg sighed. The promise of a clean outfit made it the most appealing offer she’d ever had. Naked in Finn’s shower was weird, but she’d take what she could get. Beggars couldn’t be choosers. “Sounds like a plan.”

What might have been triumph flashed in his gaze, and his smile was dazzling. “Great.”

Anne stepped in front of her, her expression concerned. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“Do you have a better option?” Meg held her arms out and gestured down at her ruined garments. “Tracking anyone else down takes time, where I’m still gross.”

“True.” Anne ran her hands through her short hair. “Want me to come with you or let you do your own thing?”

“I love you, honey, but as few people as possible would be awesome right now.” Meg waved her off, wishing for nothing more than to be somewhere quiet. “Go have fun with Carla. Keep her from drinking and gambling her next paycheck away.”

Anne grimaced. “Will do.”

It didn’t take long to get to Finn’s room, which worked for Meg. The sooner she could shower, the better she’d feel. And she’d really love to get some lunch. “I’m starving.”

“Me, too.” He opened the door and motioned her into the room. After setting her suitcase on the luggage rack for her, he shrugged out of his backpack and dumped it on the end of the bed. “Once you’re showered, we can find the gang and get some food.”

She wrinkled her nose, unzipping her bag to root around for some clean clothes. “They’re probably eating right now. After they hosed me down, the jerks. Remind me to never, ever go anywhere outside of work with this bunch again. You all seemed so normal when we were at school, but now?”

“Hey.” He caught her shoulders in his strong hands, frowning at her. “Don’t go lumping me into this bunch. I’m trying to help, not off partying.”

Tingles broke down her arms at his touch, and she swayed toward him just a little. She tried to inject some teasing into her tone. “My hero. Thank you.”

His lips curved in a small grin, but he didn’t let her go. “You’re welcome. I just don’t want you to think I turn into a jackass who ditches my friends the second the chance to drink and gamble comes up.”

“I don’t imbibe much, which is probably why this makes me even crankier.” She made a face. “I didn’t even get sloshed and I still got sloshed all over.”

Somehow, he was even closer, and she didn’t know if he had moved or if she had. His heat wrapped around her, and it felt far too nice. A masculine scent filled her nose, the smell that was uniquely Finn. He dropped his forehead to hers. “I’m sorry this has sucked for you so far. Maybe I can make it up to you.”

“I don’t think anything could make this trip better. It was a mistake to let Anne talk me into this. They ganged up on me, Anne and our two other best friends.” She shut her eyes, sudden exhaustion hitting her, and she let herself lean into his solid strength. Just for a minute. He felt good, comforting, even though it was foolish to acknowledge it.

She sighed when his lips brushed over hers. It was soft and sweet, a light caress. He sipped at her mouth, and slow heat unfurled within her. She set her hands against his chest to push him away, as she knew she should. But she couldn’t make herself do it. Not yet. Her fingers itched with the need to stroke, to explore. The fabric of his T-shirt was soft, clinging to the hard planes of his muscles underneath.

He licked his way into her mouth, and she gave a low moan as his taste hit her tongue. Coffee and hot man. She coasted her hands over his chest, and he shuddered when she brushed his nipple. It beaded tight for her, an irresistible temptation. His fingers clenched on her shoulders and she found herself backed against the closed door. The feel of him—all of him—shocked a gasp out of her. Her softer curves molded to his every hard angle. His cock prodded her belly, and his kiss became a rough demand for response.

Excitement exploded inside her, a sudden riptide that dragged her under. Her sex went hot and wet in moments, an insistent craving. Undulating against him, she tried to find some relief, but the friction only increased her agony. Her nipples thrust against the lace of her bra, which chafed her sensitive flesh. He wedged his leg between hers, the heavy muscles there pressing against her pussy.

Oh. God.

Moisture flooded her sex and her heart hammered in her chest. The roar of blood in her veins drowned out any other sound in the room. She arched into him, biting his lower lip and thrusting her tongue into his mouth to mate with his. He groaned, a sound of unrestrained need, and it only enticed her more. His hands bracketed her ribs, one sliding up to cup her breast. She gasped against his lips when his fingers caught her nipple through her shirt, rolling the tight tip.

She sobbed into his mouth, her hips pushing forward, grinding her clit over the hard muscles of his thigh. The subtle rocking of his body against hers managed to stimulate every single one of her nerve endings. Shoving her hands into his hair, she held him closer, kissed him deeper. She’d never been so turned on in her life, and all she wanted was more. More, more, more. When he flexed his leg, riding it against her sex, she felt the first throb of orgasm rip through her.
Yes. God, yes.
A few more seconds and she’d catapult over that edge.