Dedication
To my editor Bethany for the opportunity.
Chapter One
She couldn’t believe it. They ditched her. Her friends. In the middle of a huge Las Vegas casino. On her birthday—well, it was almost her birthday. Still.
Jerks.
Samantha Sanders pushed through the crowds that clogged the casino, the clanging of the slot machines ringing in her head and making it throb. There was an unusual energy, an edge to the crowd that was not the usual happy good-time Las Vegas vibe she was used to, but she shrugged it off.
Holiday tension perhaps? The place was surprisingly busy since it was so close to Christmas but she figured if the impending holiday wasn’t stopping her from getting her party on, then why would it stop anyone else?
Besides, this weekend was a big deal. It wasn’t every day someone turned thirty. Not that her friends cared, considering they’d left her high and dry.
Whatever.
She didn’t want to leave the building for fear of totally losing them. She could always go up to her room and wait for them but…she didn’t want to. It was still early. Cell phone service was the worst in the casinos, and no one could hear their phone ring anyway. The place was so loud.
Almost too loud.
Spotting a small bar, Samantha headed for it, her feet hurting with every step. She wasn’t used to wearing such high heels, and she’d worn the highest ones she’d found from a shopping trip last week. Funny how she forgot there was so much walking involved in Vegas.
She was wearing flats tomorrow. Thank God she’d packed some.
The bar was dark yet cozy, the sconces that lined the dark brown wallpapered walls casting a golden glow within the room. It wasn’t very crowded, mostly filled with couples, and she headed straight for the bar, smiling at the bartender as she settled upon the tall barstool.
“What’ll it be?” The bartender was cute in that slick I-live-in-Vegas way. Not her type but certainly worthy of a bit of flirtation.
“What do you recommend?” She propped her elbow on the counter and rested her chin on her fist, batting her eyelashes for exaggerated effect.
The bartender grinned. “Well, what are you in the mood for?” His brows rose.
She so wasn’t going there. She had a feeling he wasn’t referring to just drinks. “Something fruity and tropical.” She’d already sucked back a couple of elaborate cocktails during dinner, but the effects had worn off.
“I know just the thing.” He slapped the edge of the counter and went right to work on making her drink.
She watched him, stretching her toes within the confining, too-high stilettos, wishing like crazy for a foot massage. The bartender’s movements were efficient, she caught him flashing a wide smile at another woman sitting on the opposite end of the bar and Samantha wondered just how many he kept on a string.
Not that she was in Vegas for a hookup. No, it was a girls-only weekend to celebrate her birthday. She didn’t have any of her girls around her at the moment, though. She still couldn’t believe they’d ditched her.
Pulling her cell out of her tiny purse, she saw there were no calls. She dashed off a quick text to her friends—Where the hell are you bitches?—then shoved the phone back in her purse.
The bartender set the glass in front of her with a flourish. The drink was electric blue in color and with a slice of pineapple wedged on the edge of the glass. She leaned forward and breathed deep, the tropical fruity smell making her smile. “Thank you. It’s the perfect birthday drink.”
“Enjoy, then. It’s on the house.” He winked and wandered off to help someone else.
“You said that on purpose.”
Samantha turned to find a man sitting on the next barstool over watching her, a little smile curving his lips. She shrugged helplessly and laughed. “I’m shameless.”
“Is it really your birthday or do you always use that line?”
She feigned offense, bracing her hand on her chest before she reached for her drink eagerly. “You think I’d stoop so low to say it’s my birthday everywhere I go?”
“I don’t know. It’s a pretty good line. One I might try.” His warm gaze swept over her appreciatively, and it was as if he’d physically touched her. A shiver moved down her spine.
“I don’t know if it would work on bartenders like him.” She waved her hand in the direction of the bartender who now flirted with the woman he’d been making eyes at earlier.
“Yeah. You’re probably right.” He took a sip of beer, his gaze never leaving her face. “Well, happy birthday.”
“Thanks, though technically my birthday isn’t until midnight.” She wrapped her lips around the red straw and sucked, the sweet drink splashing on her tongue. It was delicious—and potent—and its sheer size would have her buzzed in no time.
Hah. She didn’t need her friends to have fun on her birthday. She had a delicious drink in hand and a handsome guy teasing her. And he was definitely handsome. A healthy dose of stubble lined his square jaw. His dark brown hair was cropped short, emphasizing the strong lines of his face, and he had the most intense blue eyes she’d ever seen.
And she knew they were so intense because they were still locked on her, watching her every move.
“Is your sissy drink any good?” he asked once she finally set the glass on the counter.
Samantha laughed. “It’s really good. Why, do you think it’s too wimpy for a big, burly man like you?” Big and burly was the perfect description, what with his broad shoulders and thick, muscular arms that were only emphasized by his long-sleeved navy blue T-shirt.
“I don’t really like those frou frou drinks.” He grimaced and shook his head.
Samantha smiled. Gosh, he was cute.
“I bet you drink beer and only beer.”
He nodded in her direction. “You’re right.”
Her gaze skimmed over his flat belly. He had a really nice body. Fit. She wondered what he looked like naked. “You don’t look like you have a beer belly.”
“Nah.” He patted his stomach and warmth curled within her. Must be some weird effect from the alcohol. “I work too hard, and I’m not really a big drinker.”
“Neither am I.” That’s why the strong fruity drink was going straight to her head.
Or maybe it was the guy?
He moved so he sat on the stool next to hers, and extended his hand. “I’m Russ.”
“Samantha.” She took his hand and an electric jolt moved through her, sizzling through her veins, firing up her entire body. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.” He smiled and seemed reluctant to let go of her but finally, did so.
She felt the loss keenly and wrapped her trembling fingers around her cold drink to soothe her fraying nerves. Taking a more restrained sip, she glanced up to find him still watching her. “What?” she asked when she released the straw. “Do I have something on my face? Something in my teeth?”
“No.” He slowly shook his head and tore his gaze from her, watching the bartender as he approached to check up on her. Russ’s eyes narrowed when the flirtatious bartender leaned against the counter and smiled knowingly.
“Is it as delicious as I promised?”
He hadn’t made that sort of promise but who cared? She kind of liked the jealous tinge to her newfound friend’s skin as he watched them. “It’s wonderful.”
“Want me to make another?”
“Why don’t you go talk to your friend?” Russ hitched his thumb in the direction of the woman who sat at the opposite end of the bar—the woman the bartender had flirted with just moments earlier.
Sneering, the bartender went on his merry way without protest. Samantha stared agape at Russ who only shrugged his shoulders in response.
“Wow
. Either that was totally rude or completely hot,” she finally said.
“Hot? How so?” He waited for her answer.
“Well.” She took a healthy sip of her drink, her skin warming. From the alcohol or the man with her, she wasn’t sure. “That was a rather macho display of—possessiveness wasn’t it?”
“Maybe.” He sounded wary. Like he was afraid how he should answer her question.
“Hmm, well if it was, then I think that’s kind of hot.” She slid her barstool closer to his, caught a whiff of his scent. Hint of light cologne, clean soap and delicious man, it was a most dangerous combo.
And it went straight to her already spinning head.
He chuckled, the sound tickling at her insides. “You don’t hold back, do you?”
“Alcohol loosens my tongue,” she confessed.
“Want me to order you another one after all?” He smiled.
“It might get me into trouble.”
He leaned in close, his mouth level with her ear and she felt his warm breath tickle across her cheek. “I have a feeling I wouldn’t mind your kind of trouble.”
Her knees weakened and she was thankful she wasn’t standing.
She might’ve slid to the floor.
The warning signals were going off like fire bombs, big, bold and loud. She had a feeling this man was all sorts of trouble.
Of the good kind.
Russ moved away from Samantha, taking with him her heady scent, replaying in his mind the little gasp of pleasure she’d made after he whispered in her ear.
Ah yeah, this was certainly unexpected. But he wasn’t complaining.
He’d come to the casino in the hopes of nursing a beer or two, playing a few hands of Blackjack at the tables and getting away from his crazy family—not necessarily in that order.
Christmas came but once a year, thank God.
He shouldn’t feel like this. He was home on leave during the holidays and many of his friends and fellow comrades would practically kill to be in his enviable position. After a long and grueling stint with the Navy overseas, he was thankful to be home. Hell, he’d practically kissed the ground when he climbed out of the plane and felt the familiar, cold yet dry desert air of his hometown.
But then he’d walked into his parents’ house and the entire family attacked him, so thankful to finally see him. The entire clan had been there to greet him. They’d thrown a party in his honor and old friends had shown up, including an ex—but still friendly—girlfriend.
Nothing had panned out. Family members had gotten into an argument, the party had gone on too long and was too loud and what do you know, the cops had been called. They’d come and immediately shut it down.
That had been two days ago. The chaos hadn’t ceased, and there were four days left until Christmas. He thought it would never get here.
Funny, how he sought quiet solace in a casino. Funnier still how he ended up talking to the most beautiful woman he’d seen in a long-ass while.
And there was no doubt about it Miss Samantha-It’s-My-Birthday was a knockout. Green eyes that sparkled when she talked, creamy smooth skin that bloomed with color when he stared at her, wavy dark red hair that hinted at a fiery personality, she was a stunner. From what he could tell she had a nice body and a rack that was more than admirable.
Russ grimaced. He shouldn’t be thinking about racks and pretty faces and sparkling green eyes. He had a mission to return to once the new year started. Oh yeah, and a family to hang out with for the rest of the damn year.
Yeah, he was excited about that prospect.
That he couldn’t even round up anyone to go with him and hang out at the casino made him feel pitiful, though he’d told himself he came alone on purpose.
Besides, would he have talked to Samantha if he was with someone? He probably would’ve barely noticed her.
So tonight was his lucky night. An early Christmas gift of sorts. Possibly an early birthday present for her.
If she wanted to ring in her birthday with the two of them naked in her hotel room, he wasn’t about to protest.
And damn it, he couldn’t help his wicked thoughts. He was horny. When was the last time he’d been with a woman?
Too long, that was for sure.
“I’m really a good girl,” she finally said, her voice prim.
Ha. He doubted that. Not that he thought she was some sort of wild child slut bag but he had a feeling she knew how to have a good time. Let loose. Let those inhibitions of hers run free.
Just what he needed to forget, for even one night.
He’d take it.
“A little good, a little bad? A mixture is always nice.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Nice? I don’t want you think of me as nice.” She drank deeply, the frothy drink now half drained from the giant glass.
If she didn’t watch it she’d be drunk and on the floor in no time. And no way could he take advantage of a pretty drunk woman.
Maybe back when he’d been young and obnoxious and practically heartless. But not any longer.
“What do you want me to think of you, then? Pretty? Sexy? Smokin’ hot?” He smiled, and she returned it.
“That works.” She drank again and he made a murmur of disapproval. “What’s wrong?”
Slowly, he shook his head. “Don’t drink too much. I don’t take advantage of sloppy drunk chicks.”
“Oh, I’m not sloppy.” Yet her smile was crooked. He had a feeling she might be a teeny bit sloppy. “You’d know if I was sloppy.”
He laughed, and she joined in. The banter, the teasing, it was good. It felt…mindless. And not in an insulting way, it was just so carefree. He craved carefree. Simple.
There hadn’t been much simple in his life the last few years. Not that he complained. He was military through and through and to the core. It was his career, his life. And he was starting to wonder if he let it take over his life too damn much.
“So you’re not afraid of the end of the world thing happening?” It had been talked about for years, and for the last week the media had really ratcheted up the fear. People were barricading themselves in their houses, buying out the grocery stores and filling the air with a pervasive sense of paranoia.
Not that he believed in any of that sort of bullshit.
“No.” She waved a hand as if dismissing it all. “I’ve been joking about it for years since my birthday just so happens to be on the same day. It’s the whole reason I’m here. Partying it up with my friends on my big day, celebrating just in case the world ends. Gotta do it right, ya know?”
“Where are your friends?” He glanced about the bar. He’d noticed her from the moment she walked in, and she’d been alone.
“I, uh, lost them.” Shrugging, she sipped from her drink, practically draining it.
“Lost them?” He cocked a brow. Where the hell were her friends?
“We got separated in the crowd earlier. This place is so busy.” She shot him a little smile. “I wouldn’t have come in here if I’d been with them so maybe I shouldn’t complain. Maybe you shouldn’t complain either,” she teased.
Arousal hit him swift and hard. That smile, her seemingly innocent comment was loaded with possibilities. “I shouldn’t?”
“No, you shouldn’t. Remember how you just said you don’t take advantage of sloppy drunk girls?”
“Yeah…” He drew the word out, watching her.
“Well, lucky for you I’m not too drunk. Yet.” She flashed him a brilliant smile.
Russ studied her quietly, shaking his head when she finished the last of her drink. She slid off the barstool, her heels clicking loudly on the tile floor when she landed and she held her hand out to him.
“Let’s go.”
Without a word he stood, forgetting all about the beer he hadn’t finished, though at least he’d paid for it. She took his hand, her slender fingers twining with his and she pulled him out of the cozy bar and into the bustling, loud casino. He tugged on her hand, pulling her close
so she could hear him above the din.
“Where are you taking me?” He had a feeling he knew but he wanted confirmation.
She smiled. It was wicked and full of promise. “My hotel room.”
“Ah.” Just as he thought. Leaning down, he dropped a soft, lingering kiss on her cheek. A shudder moved through her, he felt it. “Lead the way.”
Samantha did, pulling him through the milling crowds, her intent focused, her steps purposeful. Russ tightened his hold on her hand, assessing the room as was habit. The place was filling up fast, modern—and annoying as hell—Christmas music played over the hum of the slot machines and a few cops walked past, their expressions stern. Serious as they not so subtly scanned every passerby.
Russ frowned. Strange. The casinos were usually full of security, both uniformed and undercover, but rarely did he see police unless something major was going down.
He hoped like hell nothing major was going down.
She led them to a bank of elevators where no one else waited. Glancing over his shoulder, he watched as more cops spilled into the casino.
“Something wrong?”
Turning, he found her watching him carefully, her brows drawn. “There are a lot of cops here.”
“Oh.” She sighed. “I bet it’s because of all of the end of the world talk.”
He snorted. “I doubt that.”
“The crazies come out in force, especially when they have reason. And trust me, this end of the world crap is reason enough.”
“And Vegas is full of crazies,” he muttered. There were always over-the-top predictions about the end of the world. If they wanted to see real end of the world crap, people should spend a few months in a warzone.
That would scare the crap out of anyone.
“I saw that people are stockpiling items in preparation. A lot of people are taking this seriously.” She rested her hands on her hips, looking sassy and sexy as hell. “Kind of nuts, huh?”
“Yeah.” He shrugged. “But I don’t put much into it, you know? I mean come on, just because the Mayan’s calendar ends tomorrow doesn’t mean the world’s going to end, right? How many times do people have to predict this shit and work people up into a frenzy?”
Neon Chaos Page 1
