Vegas Love

by Jillian Dodd

  "I have a question," I say, after we've had sex twice. "I don't want this night to end. And since you're from Seattle and I'm from L.A., this, us--tonight--it could just be fun, right? A one-time thing?"

  "Absolutely," he says.

  "And since you're friends with the bride and groom, I assume they trust you. I'm hoping that means I can trust you too."

  "You can," he says sincerely.

  "Good." I pull him up off the ground. "It's still early. Let's get the hell out of here and go have some fun."

  Turn Me On

  Cash

  She pulls me into a limo. "Where are we going?" I ask. Not that I care. At this point, I'd go just about anywhere with this girl. She's amazing. And I don't just mean the sex--which was practically mind-blowing. She's gorgeous and funny as shit.

  "Vegas."

  "I'm surprised you'd want to go there after--" She grabs my lips in her fingertips and shuts them, giving me fish lips.

  "Rule number one," she says. "No talking about the past. Other than I'm going to say that the last two times I've been in Vegas have been big disappointments. Give me a minute. I need to make a call."

  "Who are you calling?"

  "Carter Crawford. He doesn't know it yet, but we're going to borrow his plane. I happen to know he's not leaving here until tomorrow afternoon. Do you know him?"

  "The best man?" I ask. I consider telling her that I know Carter quite well, since he's my brother, but I don't. She wants a no-names-kind-of night. Which is funny considering everyone knows the actress Ashlyn Roberts, who's well-known for her blockbuster movie roles, red carpet antics, and bubbly personality.

  "After the breakup with Luke and before I started dating Zach, Carter took me to Vegas," she says, causing me to tense up. Just the thought of her fucking anyone other than me--particularly my brother--threatens to rip me apart. How can I possibly feel so crazy jealous over her already? It was just sex. Wasn't it? "I thought our trip would be romantic with a whole lot of hot and sweaty, you know, but nothing happened between us. His brother, Cade, is my agent, and he was just trying to cheer me up."

  I breathe easier, then let my lips graze down her neck. "If hot, sweaty, romantic Vegas is what you want, Hotass. It's what you'll get."

  "I need a wig though."

  "Why?"

  "So no one recognizes me, silly. I have a fake ID. Sometimes, I just want to go out without it being a scene. Tonight is one of those nights."

  "I bet we can find you a wig in Vegas."

  "Ha, you're right," she says as I pull her on my lap and kiss her again.

  We fuck on the plane.

  Twice.

  Drink some more.

  When we land in Vegas, we go directly to a store where she sends me in to buy a wig.

  "What kind?" I ask.

  "Long and blond."

  "Hot," I say.

  "While you do that, I'll get us set up in a hotel."

  When I get back in the town car, she tells the driver which hotel to take us to.

  "I've never stayed here before," she says, pulling on the wig. "You go get the key, okay? I told them your name was Harry Tripping and not to ask for ID."

  "That's funny."

  We ride the elevator to one of the upper floors and enter a sprawling suite. "Very nice. You have good taste."

  "Only the best for our wild one-night stand."

  A butler appears out of nowhere. "Anything you need?"

  "Nothing he can't give me," she says, pulling on my tie and giving me a naughty grin.

  I send the butler away then lead her over to the windows. "Look at this view."

  "Ohmigawd! Look! The Bellagio fountains are starting!" She leans against the glass and looks down. "Wow. This is kinda trippy."

  I push my hips into her ass, somehow ready for round--hell, I lost count. Two times at the wedding, a blow job in the limo, joined the mile high club twice, so round--six. Doesn't matter though, my Johnson is raring to go. I wrap my arms around her waist, kiss her neck, and finger her while she watches the fountains rise. She reaches back and slides her hand down my pants.

  "You're hard again," she says, seemingly surprised.

  "You turn me on," I whisper.

  "Do me right here. I feel like I should say your name--but this is a still a no-names-kind-of night, right?"

  "That's what you wanted. I'm still calling you Hotass because, you"--I lift her skirt, slide off her panties, and slap her naked butt--"have a very hot ass."

  "Oh!" she says when I spank her. She guides me into her and as I start thrusting, she bends over more--putting her arms out and her hands flat against the glass.

  "This is like a fantasy," she says, moving against me in time with the fountains. "Do you think when they do the big finale you can come?"

  "I'd rather make you come."

  "Spank me again, then."

  I pull back, but not out, giving myself just enough space to smack her ass before plunging deep inside her.

  "Oh, god! Do it harder! Oh, fuck, yes. Yes. Yes. Yes!"

  And just before the fountains stop, she collapses against the window.

  "What's next?" she asks me as I dispose of another condom. I grab the champagne bottle, take a swig, and then give it to her.

  "In the plane, you told me it was my job to keep you drunk all night, but not too drunk, right?"

  "Yes," she replies.

  I turn her to face me, pull her dress off, carry her to the couch, and get on my knees in front of her. "When I say drink, you have to drink."

  "What are you going to do?"

  I take one of her nipples into my mouth and shove a finger inside her in response.

  "Oh god," she says again.

  "For every drink you take, I do more."

  "Well if that's the case, I hope you don't want any champagne."

  My finger is still inside her but motionless. When she takes another drink, I attack her breast, gliding my tongue around her nipple, then pulling it between my teeth and quickly letting go--all the while, still stroking her pussy. She arches her back and moans.

  So I stop.

  "Ohmigawd! I hate you," she says, taking another drink.

  This time I trail my tongue down her stomach, then alternate between sloppy kisses and the kind of kisses that are sure to leave a mark. By the time I get to the top of her mound, her back is arched and her hips are thrust toward me. I know what she wants.

  So I stop again.

  She lets out a frustrated sigh.

  I immediately grab her face. "Do you not like our game?"

  "I love our game," she says breathlessly.

  "Then stop sighing like you don't."

  "You're bossy."

  "If you sigh again, I stop playing."

  "You're torturing me. It feels so good," she says, sliding her hands into my hair.

  "I'm just getting started. Drink."

  She takes a slug and then pushes the bottle toward me. "You need to drink too."

  I take a drink--but don't swallow--then I grab her ass, pulling her up to my mouth. I put both my tongue and the champagne inside her.

  "Ohmigawd! That's cold," she laughs.

  But she stops laughing as I lap her up.

  She's getting all worked up again so, naturally, I stop.

  "I'm drinking! I'm drinking," she laughs.

  This time I take a piece of ice, sliding it across her wetness while she squirms and giggles. I grab her hips tightly, rub my tongue roughly against her, and just when she's almost there, I stop.

  Again.

  I flick my tongue against her.

  "I hate you," she says, taking another swig.

  After she drinks, I start again--this time letting my five o'clock shadow rub roughly against her while I use my tongue to get serious.

  When she's panting and on the edge, I shove my fingers into her as she comes. She's moaning and saying fuck, oh fuck, over and over.

  Her dirty mouth gets me hot.

  That, and her wet puss
y.

  She lies back on the couch, fully relaxed.

  "Oh, no. No stopping now," I say, pulling her up off the couch and kissing her.

  "Fuck me again," she says, jumping into my arms and wrapping her legs around me.

  "I'm not sure if I can. This officially tops my most sex ever in a twenty-four-hour period, and we've only been at it for a few hours. The night is still young. I need to pace myself."

  She doesn't say a word--just sucks on my neck, causing my dick to spring back to life. Apparently, he's ready to party.

  "I'm all out of condoms," I confess.

  "I'm on the pill," she says, her lips landing hard on mine and kissing me so deeply I can only think of one thing.

  Get inside her.

  I carry her toward the nearest wall, shoving her back against it to get some leverage, as I devour her mouth and fuck her with equal force.

  "I've lost track of how many orgasms I've had," she pants, collapsing again.

  "I think we're up to eleven."

  She kisses me sweetly. "I love that you're keeping track."

  While she's still clinging to me, I say, "So, what's next? We have a wig and everything."

  "I should try it on!" she squeals.

  I set her down and grab the bag, not wanting her to see what else I bought just yet. I'm enjoying watching her strut around naked too much.

  When I pull the wig out, she laughs. "Ohmigawd, that's really blond! Like, bleach blond."

  "I thought this would be fun."

  She twists her gorgeous light brown hair up into a bun then puts on the wig, checking herself in the mirror. "I guess it's not as bad as I first thought."

  When she turns back toward me, I take in the sight of her. Creamy, lightly tanned skin. Pale pink nipples and perfect, perky breasts. Thin waist, slender hips, long legs, and probably the hottest ass I've ever spanked.

  Actually, it's the only ass I've ever spanked.

  "You're so fucking gorgeous," I tell her, closing the gap between us and grabbing her ass with both hands. "Want to see what else I got you to wear?"

  "I'm not sure I ever want to get dressed again."

  "Sure you do. You want to go dancing--so I'm taking you dancing. But we're doing it right. No VIP. Just you and me, sweaty on a crowded dance floor."

  She kisses me with a sigh. "It's too bad you live so far away."

  I grab her chin and look into her eyes. They are by far the prettiest green eyes I've ever seen. Sure, I've seen them in the movies, but they don't do them justice. I've never noticed the dark blue around the edges or how they have an almost turquoise tint.

  "You can't wear what you wore to the wedding."

  "Why not?"

  "We're going to a club, so you need the right outfit." I pull out the skimpy black skirt I bought. "You're wearing this."

  "This will barely cover my vagina!" she exclaims, holding it up in front of her.

  "That's kinda the point," I tease, tossing her the top.

  "I can't wear this."

  "You can and you will," I say, smacking her butt. "Get dressed."

  She skips into the bathroom while I look around the room for my clothes and put them back on. I don't bother with my suit jacket, just pick it off the floor and hang it over the back of a chair.

  I'm rolling up my shirtsleeves when she bounds out wearing the long blond wig, bright pink lipstick, the strappy black top, and the skirt--which does barely cover her vagina.

  "You look fucking hot!" I tell her. "Let's go."

  We make out in the taxi on the way to the club.

  We're waiting in a very long line, when one of the doormen walks by and winks at her and the two other skimpily-clad girls she's been talking to.

  The girls grab her hand and say, "Come on! We're getting in!"

  She grabs my hand and drags me behind them.

  Once we're inside, we squeeze up to the bar and orders shots.

  "To new friends," she says, clinking the girls' glasses. "And to this very sexy boy."

  We down the shots then move to the dance floor. The DJ has the place rocking and the dance floor is so packed there's barely room to move. I grab her ass and grind against her, the shot making me feel tipsy and, surprisingly, freaking horny.

  Or maybe it's that skirt.

  "This is amazing!" she yells in my ear. "The energy. All these people. You can feel the beat in your chest and--"

  I kiss her, stopping her mid sentence. Someone is grinding against my back, bodies are pushing against my sides, but it's the one flattened against the front of me that I can feel.

  Every little movement she's making.

  She pulls my hands up in the air with hers. Her crotch is moving against my leg. Her breath is on my neck.

  I know this is supposed to be just a crazy one-night stand, but there's a big part of me that wishes it could be more.

  Maybe it's the circumstances. The supposed random hookup at a friend's wedding. Or maybe it's the way her ass seems to perfectly fit in my hands.

  Or her crazy laugh.

  Or the little freckles scattered imperfectly across her perfect nose.

  Or the way she moaned when I fucked her.

  I slide one of my hands up under her skirt, roaming for the lace of her thong.

  She pushes my hand away. "You can't do that here."

  "Says who?" I ask, moving under the front this time. I'm a bit shocked when my hand comes in contact with only her skin. "You're not wearing underwear."

  "How could I in this skirt?"

  I shove my hand between her legs, my finger moving inside her to the beat of the music. Lights flash and glow around us as she tosses her head back in pleasure.

  Then she grabs my face and kisses me. She pulls her skirt down then drags me off the dance floor and into a dark corner of the club, where she undoes my pants, pulls my dick out, and sits on my lap, taking me inside her.

  "Don't move," she says into my mouth as she grinds against me, causing me to grow even harder. "That's it. Damn, you feel good. I just needed you inside me again."

  Even though I'm pretty sure the well is dry, I can't take it. I thrust my hips up hard, causing her to bounce on top of me.

  "Excuse me," a voice says as a flashlight shines on us. "I'm going to have to ask you two to leave."

  She jumps up, startled, and I use her body as a shield while I quickly zip my pants.

  "Why?" she asks.

  "You know why," he says, escorting us out.

  We're let out of a side door just off the Strip.

  "That was awesome! We got kicked out of the club! I need some more shots!" She leads me toward the bright lights.

  "Hang on," I say, stopping to unzip my pants and pull up my underwear. They were still pushed way down and making it difficult to walk.

  She reaches in and grabs my cock. "I like him."

  When a group of people walks by us with foot-long margaritas, she lets go of me and runs after them. "Ohmigawd! Where did you get those?"

  "Just up the street," one girl says.

  "You look familiar," another says. "Do I know you?"

  "I don't think so," she replies, clearly hoping they don't recognize her. She points at me. "But if you all want another margarita, he's buying."

  She grabs my hand and skips toward the margarita bar. The group follows her like she's the Pied Piper.

  We all get margaritas. Then we walk down the Strip, hand in hand, while she points out all the fun things she sees.

  She grabs my phone and has our new friends take pictures with us at the fountains, with a guy who looks like one of the characters from The Hangover movie, kissing with the lights of the Strip behind us, and with a Power Ranger. We've been snapping random photos all night, since I told her I wasn't the kind of guy who would share them.

  We ride a gondola at the Venetian and then go to the top of the Eiffel Tower, where we kiss and take even more pictures.

  Later, as we're wandering aimlessly, a guy hands me an ad for a strip club.<
br />
  "Do you want to go?" she asks.

  I push her against the wall of a casino and kiss her. "Why would I need to go there? I'd rather have you strip for me."

  "Oh god," she says, "that's so the right answer."

  But then she's distracted by a store. "Oh, look! Let's get candy!"

  The group of people we met are headed to the club we got kicked out of, but she adds their numbers to my phone so we can meet up later.

  She throws what's left of our melted drinks away so we can go into the store.

  After she buys a bag full of suckers, I suggest we get something to eat. All I've had since I left home were warm nuts and a crappy first-class meal. I order us each cheeseburger sliders and she orders a girly drink for us to share.

  "Oh, look how cute it is!" she says, excitedly, when they bring out the blue fishbowl drink that has gummy worms in it and is smoking from dry ice.

  "So, Sexy," she says after we've finished the sliders. "Do you wanna do something really crazy?"

  I smile at her. God, I love her sense of adventure. "Hell yeah."

  "Let's get married!"

  "Married?" I take a long drink from the fishbowl. "Married. Well, what the hell. Why not! We're in Vegas!"

  "Let's go shopping," she says. "You look good, but I'll need something white."

  "Because you're still a virgin?" I tease.

  "Yes, exactly," she says with a laugh.

  "We also need to get a ring," I tell her.

  "Eek!" She leans over the table and kisses me. Then she announces to the restaurant, "We're getting married!"

  Everyone around us claps while she takes a napkin and scrawls something illegible on it.

  "What's that supposed to say?" I ask.

  "It's our prenup. It says when we get our quickie divorce next week, we won't sue each other for money."

  I scrawl out a signature and slide it in front of her. "You need to sign it too."

  She does, then tucks it into her bra.

  I throw some cash on the table, and we stumble out to the street.

  I grab her hand tightly and lead her to a hotel where I've seen a jewelry store. If I remember right, there's a dress shop next door.

  When we get there, she gives me a kiss. "You pick out rings. I'm going to buy a dress. I want you to be surprised when I walk down the aisle."

  I'm grinning from ear to ear when I sit down and tell the jewelry salesman I'm getting married.