by J. Saman
“It’s fucking Valentino, Ryan!” Now she’s yelling. “You bought me a black sequin mini dress, and it is Valentino. The shoes are Louboutin. The purse is Prada.” I won’t even mention the earrings I got her. I think it might be too much at this moment. “I’m sure I’ll fucking like them, Ryan. What the hell on earth were you thinking? All of this has to cost ten thousand dollars, at least.” Thirteen, but I won’t go there either. “Then there’s the massive penthouse at the motherfucking Four Seasons we are staying in for the next two nights and whatever other ‘arrangements’ you have made,” she puts air quotes around the word the concierge used.
“Do you want to leave?”
I’m smiling. I shouldn’t be smiling, but I can’t help it.
She is too damn adorable when she’s angry, and since I’ve never really seen her like this, I’m enjoying the show far too much for my own safety.
She sighs, taking a deep breath and then walks over to me slowly, her hands reaching up to touch my chest. Eyes boring into mine. “I would have been happy in a regular room in a regular hotel. I would have been happy sleeping with you in my car.”
“I know,” I smile even bigger because she means it. “Please don’t be angry with me. I really want this to be special. Memorable.”
She shakes her head like I don’t get it. “Everything with you is memorable.”
Damn. She always says the most perfect things. I lean down and kiss her, because I absolutely have to.
“Are you okay with this? I can return the dress and shoes and bag.”
“I’m okay with this.” Her fingers glide through my beard and I’ve never felt a sensation like it before. “Have you always had a beard?” she asks, and I love how she just changed the topic like that.
“No. I grew it after Francesca because she hated beards,” I grin. “Do you not like it?”
“I do like it. I just can’t figure out what your face would look like without it.”
I laugh, leaning down to kiss her again. “Do you want me to shave it so you can see?”
She bites her lip and tilts her head, like she is giving this some thought. “No,” she shakes her head. “Not now. Maybe someday.” I like the way she says that, but don’t comment. “So what’s the plan for today, since you seem to be full of them suddenly?”
“We could open the champagne that’s chilling, and drink it in bed while we kiss a lot.” She’s smiling her sweet smile at me.
“You don’t want to go get lunch on the Strip and walk around?”
“If I get a choice, I’m always going to go for the kissing, Katie. You should have figured that out by now.”
“You are sort of a glutton for punishment, aren’t you?”
“A masochist to the core,” I grin. “But you do know that there are other things we can do that aren’t technically considered sex.”
She smiles seductively with widened eyes. “Oh, and what would those be?”
Damn, she’s playing with me now. “I’m just saying that there are other places I can kiss if we’re sticking to this kissing-only rule.”
“I see. Like my neck?”
“That’s definitely one place, but not the one I was thinking of.”
“Hmm.” She places both hands on my shoulders, pulling me down to her so that she can bring her mouth to my ear. “As much as I think I would enjoy you kissing other places,” her tongue and teeth graze along the shell of my ear, making me shudder. “For now, I think we should stay above the clavicle.”
“You really are trying to kill me,” I say with certainty. All I can think about right now is ripping her clothes off and doing a hundred dirty things to her.
“Maybe,” she smiles sweetly, “but not until we feed me. After that, I’m all for killing you for a while.”
I have never seen such a small woman eat as much as she does. She’s constantly packing in the food, and I think it is amazingly sexy. Francesca never ate anything more than a sprig of lettuce once a day. It was boring as hell to go out to eat with her, and the other women before and after her? Well, let’s just say we skipped over meal time in favor of other ventures.
Katie is eating the hell out of a burger right now, and enjoying every bite. We did end up going out—much to my dismay—and after this, she wants to go walk around the Strip.
I can’t really say no to her.
Tomorrow I figure we’ll hit up the pool or the spa, but today we can go exploring.
“I can’t get over how they hand out flyers for hookers.” She really can’t. That’s probably the third time she has said that. “We should totally get you one.”
I practically choke on my fry. “Um. I’m not really a prostitute kind of guy.”
“No. I guess if you wanted to get laid, you could just go out and meet someone.” Shit. I wonder if she knows about New Orleans. She wipes her mouth with her napkin and then looks up at me through her dark lashes. “I would understand, you know.”
“Understand what, sweetheart?” She can’t be suggesting what I think she is.
“If you wanted to go out and meet someone who could give you what you want.”
I reach over and take her hand. “I don’t want another woman, Katie,” I tell her hoping to convey my sincerity. “I want you. Even if it is just the killer kisses.”
She smiles softly, nodding her head, seemingly liking my answer. “I’m kind of crushing on you, Ryan Grant. Maybe even a lot.”
I lean forward and kiss her sweet lips, wondering how in the hell I’m ever going to be able to let her go when these two weeks are up.
We end up spending hours walking up and down the Strip seeing the crazy bullshit that accompanies it. Rollercoasters, giant candy stores, novelty and touristy shops.
Everything is in freaking neon.
By the time we get back to our room, it’s almost five, and dinner is—as usual—at eight.
“Nap?” I ask, since she looks exhausted.
“Lead the way.”
I do, and when we reach our bed, I turn to her. “Do you trust me?”
She nods, and I know she means it, but at the same time, she looks a little apprehensive. I reach down and lift her t-shirt over her head, revealing her fucking amazing tits encased in a white lace bra.
Holy mother of hell.
“Ryan—”
I shake my head. “I’m not going to take advantage. I just want to sleep next to you like this.” It’s true. She can see that in my eyes. So I reach down and undo her shorts, slipping them down her legs before an involuntary groan forces its way out of my throat.
“Ryan—”
She tries again, but I stop her. “I promise to be good; it’s just the matching white lace bra and panties.”
She smiles in a way that tells me she knows exactly what she is doing to me.
I take off my own shirt and shorts, not caring if she sees the tent in my boxer briefs.
I want her to see it. I want her to know the effect she has on me. She sinks her teeth into her full bottom lip when she notices, and then her eyes scroll up my chest to my eyes.
“Nap time?” she whispers, and I nod, taking her hand and leading her to the bed. When I pull her down next to me and wrap my arms around her warm soft body, she giggles. “Do you know that I have never slept in as many clothes as I do when I’m next to you?”
“What do you mean?”
She rolls over so that we are face to face on the pillow. “Normally, I only sleep in my panties.”
My eyes snap shut, and I lower my forehead to hers. “Are you trying to torture me?”
“Maybe a little,” she admits, and a laugh huffs out of me.
“Well, it worked.” I look down at myself, raising an eyebrow.
“I thought you said we were napping before we have to get ready for dinner?”
“We are, sweetheart. We are.” I fold her into my chest, wrapping my arms around her and burying my nose into her hair.
Fucking heaven.
She sighs deeply, allo
wing her body to sink into mine. Her soft perfect chest pressed up against mine.
“In case I haven’t told you,” she raises her head so our eyes meet. “I’m having the best time.”
“Me too, love, me too.” I realize too late which endearment I used, but she doesn’t comment, just sighs contentedly, closing her eyes.
I, on the other hand, do not go to sleep yet.
Instead, I snap a picture of her in my arms with my phone. Once that is done, I allow myself to surrender to her pull and close my eyes, never wanting to wake up from this perfect dream.
15
Ryan
* * *
I’m asleep maybe a half an hour when my phone rings on the nightstand behind my head. Reluctantly, I pry myself away from a beautiful and comatose Katie and slink into the living room. I swipe my finger across the screen to answer the call.
“What’s going on, Luke?”
“Ah, finally. The man himself,” Luke’s enigmatic voice fills the phone.
“Cut the shit, man. I just sent you the code the other night. Don’t tell me you’ve gone through it already?” I ask, sitting myself down in one of the large chairs that faces the windows and the view.
“Oh, but I have my friend, I have, and it looks really fucking good.” I smile at that. I knew it was right on, but having Luke confirm it just makes it better. “How on earth did you come up with this? It’s going to be killer and get a lot of hype, which is not really your thing, man. I’m surprised you want to do this.”
I run a hand through my hair because he’s right, I don’t like hype or publicity. I like to remain under the radar, but I want to do this, so it is what it is.
“I’ll manage it, and we have Claire to field a lot of the extra bullshit.”
“True.” He’s silent for a minute. “Where are you anyway?”
I hesitate, but only for a brief moment. Luke knows pretty much everything there is to know about me. He’s one of the very few people I trust.
“Vegas.”
He laughs out loud and hard. “Shut up, really?”
“Yup.” I look out at the evening sun as it sets over the mountains.
“What the hell are you doing there? Is this all part of your road trip?”
The way he says road trip sounds a bit condescending. Like he thinks I’m being childish for doing it in the first place. That doesn’t surprise me, though. Luke has lived in his own small bubble since college. Since the FBI came knocking on his door. That was enough of a scare for anyone, so I get it.
“I am, but I’ll be there for the meetings that you graciously set up on the eighteenth.” I look over at the dark bedroom, wondering what things will be like for me by then—looking forward to it and dreading it at the same time.
“You’ll thank me after the meeting. It’s a big-time name, and if we can penetrate their system, which the dude tells me is impenetrable, then we’re looking at big things.” He’s excited. I know he is.
Luke’s a scrapper and he needs this. I don’t. I’ve made all that I’ll ever need and this new software that I created is only going to add to that. I do it for the fun of it now. For the challenge. So I say, “Sounds great, man. I told you about Tommy’s new app bullshit, right?”
“No,” he draws out the word because he knows as well as I do what dealing with Tommy entails.
“He’s got something new I promised to take a look at. He’s giving us twenty and a favor.”
“For real?” he blows out a breath into the phone. “Damn.” He’s silent a moment like he’s thinking this over. “I guess we can’t really say no to twenty, and certainly not to another favor.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
I hear movement to my right, and as I look over I see Katie hovering by the bedroom door wearing what looks like only my t-shirt. Fuck, that’s all kinds of hot.
“I gotta go, Luke. I’ll call you.” I hang up without waiting for a response and set my phone down on the small table next to the chair I’m sitting in, unable to remove my eyes from the vision that is now walking toward me. “Did I wake you?”
She shakes her head, her messy blonde waves only adding to the bedroom thing she’s got going on. “No, I didn’t want to sleep too long,” she says with a coy smile. “We have a big night ahead of us, after all.”
Katie pauses in front of me. My shirt is enormous on her and stops just above her knees. My hands reach out, grabbing her waist and pulling her so that she’s straddling my lap with her bare thighs on either side of mine.
“Do we? What sort of big night?” I lean forward to kiss her sweet mouth.
“Well, I was thinking about whoring myself out.” She tilts her head, her arms stretched out wide. “You know, to pay for the room and the clothes. And after that is done, I was thinking about maybe going to dinner and a club.”
“Hmm.” I run my fingers up and down her silky thighs, stopping just under the hem of her shirt. “Are you offering your services to me, or some stranger? Because I have to tell you, I’m willing to pay way more than the other guy,” I smile, kissing her lips again just because.
“I can’t whore myself out to you,” she makes a tsking sound. “Having you pay me in cash as well as clothes and hotel rooms? That just doesn’t make any sense.” Her fingers come up, raking through the back of my hair.
I fucking love that.
She makes a good point, though.
“I suppose that’s true.” My hands slide up a little higher, wondering how far she’ll let me go. “How about this? You whore yourself out to me, I don’t pay you in cash, but you graciously accept the clothes and hotel rooms because it makes me happy to share them with you?”
“Hmm,” she purses her lips to the side like she’s thinking about this, and then leans forward so her mouth is hovering alongside my ear. “You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Grant, but I think I’m in.”
God, this girl does it for me. I’m smiling like an idiot.
“Excellent.” I lean in to run my nose along her neck, savoring her scent. “Can I shower with you, or am I pushing my luck here?”
I’m kidding, and she knows it. Well, half-kidding anyway.
“Yeah, sorry. No,” she shakes her head, flattening her lips and widening her eyes like she’s genuinely sorry. She’s not, but I’ll let it go for now.
I kiss her hard, running one hand up and down her thigh and the other hand through her hair. All too soon she pulls back, her pink lips swollen from my efforts. Damn that just makes me want to kiss her more.
“I need to go shower and get ready,” she brushes her lips against mine again like she doesn’t want to stop either.
“I like you in my shirt.”
She smiles, biting her lip to try and hide it. “Me too.”
“Can I watch you take it off? Or better yet, you let me take it off for you?”
She gives me a look that says I’m pushing it. “Not this time.”
I get another kiss before Katie climbs off my lap and walks to the bedroom, but just before she disappears inside it, she pulls the shirt over her head and tosses it to the floor, treating me to her unbelievable backside.
“You’re evil,” I call out, because she really freaking is. I mean, come on. All I hear is her laughter before she shuts the bathroom door. Damn her, she’s got me smiling again.
And nursing yet another case of blue balls.
When she walks out of the bathroom an hour later, she’s a vision.
Her hair is piled up on top of her head in some sort of a messy updo. Her makeup is minimal as always, but her lips are red and her eyes are lined with some black shit that really makes them stand out. The dress is probably one of the best decisions Claire has ever made, and I may even have to give her a raise for the shoes, because I have never seen a woman look more beautiful and sexy as Katie does right now.
The black sequin dress goes to her mid-thigh and has a nice deep V-neckline that shows off just the right amount of cleavage without her tits being fully on display.
I haven’t seen the back yet, but I know there isn’t much of one. The black sparkly heels give her a good five inches, and if she can walk in them, the extra height will make dancing with her that much better.
“You are a goddess, Katie.” It’s really all I can manage because my tongue may, in fact, be dragging against the floor. “Seriously. So crazy sexy, beautiful.”
She blushes, and I think it’s one of the few times I have ever seen it on her. Normally she is incredibly self-possessed.
“You look pretty hot yourself there, Mr. Grant.” Her eyes wander all over me. “I think I may just keep you.”
God, I hope so, I want to say, but don’t.
I’m wearing a dark-gray button-down with the sleeves rolled up because I hate the feeling of cuffs around my wrists, black Armani pants—another thing from Claire, one I did not request, but hey—and some sort of black shoe. I even brushed my hair, but I left my glasses on tonight because the smoke from the casino bothers my eyes if I wear contacts.
We step outside and Sarah is waiting on us. She hands me the VIP passes to the club I requested and helps Katie into the limo. The second the door shuts behind us, Katie gives me that look again. The one that says I’ve gone a bit overboard with the wooing. I don’t see the big deal here. I mean, it’s not like we were driving around the city tonight, so why not go out in style.
The restaurant is on the fifty-fourth floor and the views are incredible. Everything in here is white, from the floors to the walls to the furnishings, and there are small glass bubbles dripping from the ceiling.
I’ve never been a fancy restaurant kind of guy, give me a burger and a beer, and I’m a happy man. But Claire and Sarah went top of the line, and I’m far from disappointed. We’re halfway through our salad when Katie asks me something I’m surprised hasn’t come up sooner.
“Why don’t you fly?”
It’s not a question I love answering, but she’s entitled to one all the same. “I was in a plane crash about a year and a half ago.”
Katie gasps and covers her mouth with her hand.
“It was a private plane, which I don’t normally use, but I was in a bind and needed to get back to Philly for a meeting. There were no commercial flights available, so I chartered a small jet, and we crashed into a field in Nebraska.”
