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Little Dove

Page 26

by Layla Frost


  “Beautiful,” the woman said, a hint of swoon in her voice. “Now one with you kissing.”

  Before I could laugh or say anything, Maximo cupped my head in his possessive hold and kissed me.

  It may have been quick, but it was intense.

  And I wasn’t the only one who thought so, based on the woman’s breathy, “Wow.”

  I second that.

  Maximo took his phone from the wide-eyed woman and pocketed it. “Thanks.”

  She shot me a sly smile. “Lucky girl. Have fun, kids.”

  As we walked through the busy casino, I spotted a display advertising their Cirque du Soleil show with naughty new acts. “Can we go see that?”

  “No.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, his hand resting above my breast, his fingertips teasing the sensitive skin. “But we can go home and create our own version.”

  That sounded better anyway.

  After a stop at the Hershey’s store for a chocolate covered strawberry, we headed outside.

  “I used to think the Strip was only a couple blocks of cramped hotels,” I shared as I devoured my treat.

  “What’d you think when you saw it for the first time?”

  “I hated it.” I shrugged. “None of my experiences here have been good.”

  “We’ll change that.”

  We already are.

  Maximo wiped a smudge of chocolate from my bottom lip. “What do you want to see next?”

  I took a moment before giving him the only answer I had. “Everything.”

  So we did. Fine, it may not have been literally everything because there was only so much we could do in one day. But we did a lot, including seeing the shark reef at Mandalay Bay and getting an up-close and terrifying visit with the flamingos, angry swans, and turtles at the Flamingo.

  Once dinnertime hit, we stopped to eat in the promenade outside The Linq. I doubled up on my hot dog consumption—that time with the addition of fries.

  “Are you having fun?” Maximo asked just as I stuffed my California dog into my mouth.

  Chewing the delicious and semi-healthy goodness, I nodded emphatically. I swallowed and wiped my face before saying, “Minus the swans.” I gave an exaggerated shudder. “I thought they were supposed to be elegant and graceful, not aggressive assholes.”

  “They’re violent to protect their mate.” His lips curved up on one side. “I can relate.”

  His admittance he’d be violent for me shouldn’t make me happy.

  Yet it does.

  I took a needed drink and asked, “What about you? Are you having fun?”

  Lifting his chin, he admitted, “More than I expected to. I’ve lived here my whole life but never bothered to do the touristy shit.”

  “Even when you were a kid?”

  I tried to picture him as a child, but it was impossible. All I saw was a somber mini-adult or a brooding bad-boy teen—and something told me that wasn’t far off.

  He shrugged. “You’re not the only one who used to hate the Strip.”

  “Why?” I asked, wanting to know more about him.

  “Long story,” he evaded, and I didn’t push.

  Sometimes—probably most times—the past belonged in the past. Heaven knew I didn’t want to delve into my history.

  I took another bite, half the toppings spilling out the other side of the bun.

  “I’ll grab a fork,” Maximo said, already standing.

  “And napkins.”

  And maybe a bib.

  Watching Maximo move through the crowds, it didn’t matter he wasn’t at one of his properties. People still responded to his air of authority, his size, and the dangerous vibe that emanated off him. I could do without the way some women stopped to stare, but since he didn’t so much as glance at them, it was whatever.

  He was hot. It would be impossible not to notice.

  Reaching for a fry, I stopped short and froze. The hairs on the back of my neck stood, and a chill slithered down my spine. I couldn’t shake the feeling I was being watched.

  Inconspicuously, I glanced over my shoulder, but nothing stood out.

  I’d had the sensation off and on all day. Maximo’s whole BDE-king-of-the-world thing attracted a lot of attention. As did his frequent PDA that went beyond affection and bordered on obscene.

  We probably made for good people watching.

  The feeling faded and another scan of the area confirmed nothing amiss, so I went back to what mattered.

  Food.

  After dinner—and a quick stop for a cupcake covered in sprinkles—Maximo asked, “Now that you tackled the coaster, are we going on the High Roller?”

  The deliciousness I’d devoured churned like cement in my stomach at the thought of stepping onto the giant Ferris wheel.

  Reading my expression, he chuckled. “Didn’t think so.”

  He curled an arm around me as we continued down the street to ride the gondolas before visiting Bauman Rare Books. I hardly breathed as I scanned shelves of old, insanely expensive books.

  When I finally dragged myself away from the treasures, we backtracked down the Strip.

  With the sun setting, the nightlife came alive and transformed Vegas from family friendly-ish to Sin City. The warm air was wired with excitement and depravity. People were ready to party as they hopped from one resort to another.

  When we reached The Bellagio, I was bummed the fountains weren’t active. We rounded the curved path, dodging plants and drunks on our way to the lobby.

  Stepping in, I whispered an awe filled, “Whoa.”

  Glass flowers hung upside down from the ceiling, a burst of blossoms and light and beauty.

  The crystal horse and floral gardens were gorgeous, but the world’s tallest chocolate fountain was the star. Unfortunately, it was behind glass or I’d have dove in, open mouth first.

  Maximo glanced at his watch. “Time to go.”

  Damn.

  Walking outside, my disappointment grew when I saw the fountains still weren’t active.

  I stopped at the crowded edge of the path. “Can we stay a little longer?”

  “No,” was all he said before taking my hand and walking again.

  Double damn.

  Maximo rarely told me no, so I felt bad being pissy about it. It’d been a long day, especially for him since he’d likely been up at his usual five. That didn’t stop me from slowing my steps like a petulant child stalling at bedtime.

  Of course, he noticed. “Juliet.”

  “Maximo,” I mocked.

  “You’re lucky I don’t drag you back to our room, brat.”

  A shiver went through me, but I focused on his words and not the threat. “I thought that’s where we’re going.”

  He didn’t respond verbally, but with his face in profile, I could see the tiniest hint of a smirk. At the sidewalk, he turned us in the opposite direction of our hotel and continued walking until we reached a security guard leaning against a concrete barrier.

  “Black,” the man said, moving aside so Maximo and I could take his place.

  Maximo shook his hand. “Tell your boss I owe him.”

  “He knew you’d say that and said you’re even.”

  As the man walked away, Maximo moved to stand behind me, his arms going to either side of my body, caging me in. Lowering his head, his low voice rumbled in my ear. “What was your favorite thing we did?”

  “We haven’t done it yet.”

  “You think the fountains will be your favorite?”

  “No, I think riding your face will be.”

  “Christ, I should’ve just dragged you to the room. Any fucking room.” Pressing in closer, he wrapped one arm around my chest, his hand casually resting against my breast.

  I leaned back into him, sighing happily.

  All the melty goodness that flowed through me like the warm chocolate fountain seized up when the sensation of being watched returned.

  “What’s wrong?” Maximo asked, all traces of heat in his voice rep
laced by alertness.

  I tilted my head so I didn’t have to shout. “I feel like we’re being watched.”

  “We are.”

  My stomach dropped out. “What?”

  “Marco was on duty earlier. Ash is on now.”

  “What?” I repeated.

  Lowering his head next to mine, Maximo took a moment before pointing to where Ash stood along the side rail near some trees.

  “They’ve been following us the whole day?” I shook my head. “How did I not notice?”

  “Because they’re good at their job.”

  “Why have they been following us?” I thought about Maximo’s work—both the legal and illegal stuff. As worry tightened around my heart and lungs, making it hard to breathe, I turned and clutched his shirt. “Do you have enemies?”

  “Every good business owner does. But nothing that puts me or, more importantly, you in danger. They’re just doing their job.”

  I guess being a bodyguard is easier if you’re in the vicinity of the body you’re guarding.

  I glanced at where I knew Ash was, but I could barely see him. “Do they always follow you?”

  “Unless I’m at home or one of my properties. But I told them to keep their distance today.” He turned me to face forward, wrapping me in his hold again. “I wanted you to myself.”

  I’m in so much trouble.

  The first spray of water shot up from the fountain. Coordinated to music, the show was incredible and beautiful.

  But just as I’d predicted, riding Maximo’s face was my favorite part of the best day of my life.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  The Fire

  Juliet

  “YOU’RE COMING TO Star with me now.”

  I jumped at Maximo’s voice as I stepped out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel. I hadn’t expected him to be home, let alone in our room.

  I’d had one glorious weekend with him at Moonlight and the Strip before Maximo’s schedule had gone insane again. For almost three weeks, he’d been slammed preparing for a huge poker tournament. Most days, I only saw him when he woke me with his tongue, fingers, or cock, but there were nights he hadn’t even done that.

  It sucked, and I missed him.

  And apparently that was mutual.

  Excitement shot through me. We’d already planned for me to go for the start of the tournament, but spending the whole day was even better. “Okay.”

  “Vera will pack your bag, we’ll spend the weekend.”

  “Okay,” I repeated.

  He stalked over to me, all graceful predator to my eager prey. “That easy?” Not giving me the chance to answer, he cupped my head and tilted it. Lust and something else blazed in his gaze as he murmured, “Always that easy.”

  Being called easy could be an insult, but since he said it with the same praising tone he used when he called me his good girl, I took it as a compliment.

  Maximo’s eyes dropped to my mouth. “Want those lips around my cock.”

  “Okay,” I said instantly because I really was always easy for him.

  “Don’t have time,” he continued, though he made no move to step away.

  Taking advantage of his closeness, I worked to undo his belt and slacks. “Just for a minute.”

  The fire in him grew to a raging inferno as he watched me drop to my knees. His voice was raw and rough when he relented. “A minute.”

  I freed his already hard cock and licked the length before taking him as deep as I could.

  It lasted longer than a minute.

  Maximo didn’t complain.

  _______________

  Star was smaller than Moonlight, but just as beautiful.

  Actually, it may have been more beautiful, with its swirling black and blue tile and shimmery-silver details.

  And much like Moonlight, it had a theme and it stuck to it. The lobby was filled with starflowers. Projected shooting stars zipped across the black ceiling. Dots and swipes of silver were on everything from the walls to the gaming room chairs.

  There was a giant blue and purple mural of a beautiful woman made entirely of stars.

  “Who’s that?” I asked, mesmerized by it. It reminded me of an optical illusion, and the longer I looked, the more it came together.

  “Asteria, goddess of the stars.”

  I should’ve guessed.

  As we walked the already crowded main floor, my eyes darted to take everything in. They landed on Maximo to find him watching me.

  “What?” I asked, my face flushing.

  He stopped suddenly and pulled me to him, not caring we were in public. PDA was never a problem for him. “I like seeing your reaction. Ash said I missed out at Moonlight.” He studied me as if he could read my every thought and secret. “Glad I didn’t miss it this time.”

  My heart squeezed, all his intensity aimed at me both overwhelming and exhilarating.

  A ringing cut through the thickness.

  “Shit, I have to take this.” Maximo dropped his hand to pull his cell out. “Black.” He was silent for a minute before biting out, “No, I want the one I chose.” Another few beats went by as he rubbed a tattooed hand across his clenched jaw.

  It was inappropriate to check him out while he was pissed, but I did it anyway.

  So hot.

  “Email it over.” He hung up and gave me his attention. “You can’t look at me like that when I’m on the phone. Christ, only you could make me hard while I’m dealing with bullshit.”

  God, his obscenely sweet words really are so good for my ego but so dangerous for my heart.

  Keeping that thought locked away tight, I asked, “Everything okay?”

  “Same shit, different day,” he dismissed. “I’ve got to go to my office and deal with it. Did you or Vera pack your iPad?”

  I nodded. “It’s in my bag.”

  “I’ll have Marco bring it to my office.” His thumbs flew across his cell screen before he pocketed it and wrapped an arm around me. He steered me to a hallway with a black and silver Black Resorts sign over it. There was a row of elevators and then one with the thumbprint thing.

  “Can you add my thumbprint?” I asked as the door slid open and we entered. I’d never gotten around to asking him at Moonlight—mostly because any time we were in the elevator, my mouth was otherwise occupied.

  His lips tipped as he pressed a button. “Later.”

  “Yay.”

  “Christ, you’re cute.”

  I liked when he called me little dove best and brat second. Calling me cute in his tender, amused tone was a close third.

  The doors slid open a moment later, and we stepped off into a ritzy waiting room with glass and wrought iron. Empty chairs lined the wall opposite the row of elevators. A chrome and iron bar held a coffeemaker and supplies I was looking forward to utilizing.

  Maximo gripped my hand and walked, pointing out things as he went. “Bathroom. Cole’s office. Ash’s—not that either use them for more than playing Madden. Conference room.” He unlocked and opened the last door.

  Huge, intimidating, and looks effortlessly expensive and infinitely powerful?

  Yup, definitely Maximo’s office.

  Along with the typical desk with chairs in front of it, there was a couch and coffee table, a boardroom table lined with chairs, a bar that matched the one in the lobby—though his was stocked with alcohol, not coffee—and a wall of monitors like at home. The wide window behind his desk flaunted the beautiful view.

  I could picture him leaning back in his chair, clutching a tumbler of whiskey as he stared broodily into the distance.

  A king overseeing his kingdom.

  I glanced around again before something occurred to me. “You don’t have a receptionist?”

  “Multiple.”

  I leaned out and looked pointedly at the empty waiting area. Lowering my voice with dramatic concern, I asked, “Can you see them right now? Do they talk to you?”

  “Brat.” Backtracking from the office, he hooked me
around the waist, bringing me with him. We got onto the elevator, and he pressed a button for four floors down.

  When the doors slid open, it revealed another expansive lobby. A long reception desk took up the entirety of the opposite wall, and at least five people sat behind it—though there may have been more I couldn’t see. A massive version of the black and silver Black Resorts sign hung on the wall.

  Eyes turned to us and lingered when they saw Maximo. They became fixated when they saw he wasn’t alone. But he didn’t acknowledge anyone as he took my hand and stepped out. He gestured to the desk. “Receptionists.” He turned us toward a long hallway. “Offices and conference rooms.” Reopening the elevator, we stepped in and he pointed up. “Three more floors of receptionists, offices, and conference rooms.”

  Whoa.

  Logically, I knew even Maximo couldn’t singlehandedly run an entire resort, but it was surprising how extensive the business side was.

  “Why don’t you have any on your floor?” I asked.

  “I like my privacy.”

  Knowing even a tiny bit about some of his business dealings, that made sense.

  He unlocked his office again, moving aside for me to enter. My iPad was on the coffee table, along with a paper bag and a large disposable cup I was praying was filled to the brim with coffee.

  Before I could investigate, Maximo turned me to face him. “If you get bored, you can go walk with Marco or hang out in our room upstairs.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  Who could be bored when they have coffee and a good book?

  Moving behind his desk, he shook off his suit jacket and slipped it on a hanger. He rolled his sleeves to display his tattooed forearms before sitting at his desk.

  Let me revise that.

  Who could be bored when they have coffee, a good book, and an incredibly sexy man to stare at?

  _______________

  I was bored.

  Reading in the office had been fun.

  Though it felt a little stalkery, people watching on the wall of monitors had also been fun.

  Fooling around frequently had been super fun.

  But watching people play poker was not fun.

  I didn’t get the appeal.

  I definitely didn’t understand why they’d go bankrupt, get in deep with loan sharks, or lose their homes for it.

 

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