Nothing Stays in Vegas

by Moira McTark

Cal pushed through the front door, thankful to get out of the wind. To the left, sails and boats were racked against the wall, ropes hung in perfect coils, buoys and life jackets in neat rows. To the right, cabinets and bench seating lined the periphery. A table, chairs and a long couch occupied the center of the room.

  Lara was on her tiptoes stretching for towels in a high cabinet. Her soaked outfit hugged her skin revealing every secret detail of her body. A tiny mole on the right cheek of her ass, the curve of her waist, the hollows and ridges of an athletic build, the pink panties…his mouth watered.

  “Let me get those for you.”

  She turned around, surprise lighting her face. “You got the net, I love you!” She leapt into his arms and planted a quick kiss on his mouth.

  Dropping the remains of the sign into a pile on the ground, Cal held her against him, supporting her with one arm. For a beat, their eyes met and locked. The close proximity lost its chaste intent and Lara drew back, blushing. “Dette would’ve killed me if I’d lost her precious sign. Thank you.”

  Cal let her glide down to the floor, his hand lingering a second at the waist of her shorts before skimming around to her hip and finally away from her body. “You got pulled off the dock for it. I couldn’t very well let something you wanted so much go.”

  She took a step back, giving him the space to pull his shirt over his head. Water ran off the soggy fabric in a steady stream onto the floor. He balled it in his fist, looking for a place to set it down. Not that the water from the shirt was going to do more damage than the water dripping from his pants, but he wasn’t quite ready to strip out of those.

  Lara stepped over to him and took the shirt out of his hands, opening it to hang the sopping garment on the paddle end of an oar mounted against the wall beside them. “Well, thank you for jumping in after me…and for the sign,” she said, trying to jam her hands into the soaked pockets of her shorts before giving up and dropping them to her sides.

  Her gaze tracked slowly down his body, making every inch of skin between his shoulders and thighs burn with need. His cock thickened again beneath the cold, clingy fabric of his pants. “Lara—”

  Her arms crossed over her chest and she began to shake.

  “You’re freezing.” Cal walked over to the cabinet and pulled out a towel. “We should dry off.” He opened one and wrapped it around Lara’s shoulders, rubbing up and down over her arms.

  “I feel like a drowned rat.” She was shivering beneath his hands.

  Cal crooked one finger under her chin and tilted her face to his. “You don’t look like one. You’re beautiful.”

  Her gaze shifted away, as if she was embarrassed by the compliment.

  Cal narrowed his eyes, something about her response was wrong—she was sincere, he could see it, feel it, and yet…

  “We should get back to the house,” she said quietly, without conviction. Her gaze shifted uneasily around the room and then reluctantly settled back on him.

  “We should,” he agreed.

  Neither moved, neither spoke. Neither of them was going anywhere.

  The silence hung between them as they watched each other.

  Cal was so close it hurt not to touch him. Not to reach out and brush the tight points of his nipples with her palms. Not to give in and pull loose the drawstring that secured the pants hanging dangerously low on his trim hips. Not to lose her fingers in that shock of wild hair.

  That hair. Even as nervous as he made her, Lara couldn’t help but smile.

  Cal’s chin pulled back, his brow furrowed. “What are you laughing at?”

  “Your hair. It looks the same now—straight out of the ocean—as it did at breakfast this morning.”

  He rolled his eyes and, with a good natured chuckle, rubbed his hands back and forth over the thick spikes—just as she imagined he did getting out of the shower. “That bad? You don’t even want to know what happens when I try to get it to lay flat.”

  “No, you look nice. I mean, it works.”

  Cal stared at her for a second, the laughter in his eyes dissipating. “Lara, why are you fighting this? What’s between us is good, really good. I can’t understand what was going on in Vegas, or why you don’t want to talk to me about it, but Vegas was nothing. Things started for us when all we had were words, and from that alone I wanted you.”

  She tried to look away, but he pressed his palm against her cheek, gently forcing her to meet his gaze as he continued. “You and I have a connection that’s making me want to tear the clothes off your body. I can’t stop thinking about you. All I want is to touch you, to talk to you, to joke and laugh with you…I just want you.”

  Lara blinked, opened her mouth to speak and closed it again. What could she say? That every word out of his mouth made her want to wrap her legs around him? That all she could think about was having Cal’s hands on her, his mouth, his body? And it wasn’t lust alone—everything would be so much easier if it was.

  No, she’d been falling for him since before they met when she read his first lame joke over the email. For weeks she’d been laughing at his sense of humor, marveling at his take on life. She couldn’t get enough of him, be it his most mundane thought or his deepest revelation.

  The fact that she cared about him as much as she did was the very reason she couldn’t give in. A relationship started now would be based on lies and deceit. And he deserved better than that. They both did. And then there was Dette. She’d wanted so badly to settle down, needed the security this marriage would give her. She needed to know that she would be taken care of, loved. Once she had that security, she’d finally be able to stop pushing for the constant reassurances, testing for proof of commitment. Lara couldn’t take it away from her.

  The right thing to do was so clear in her head. Walk away. It was the rest of her mutinous body that couldn’t abide by the judgment. And being this close to him wasn’t helping her cause.

  She took a step back from Cal and the heat rising off his bare chest. “I don’t want to lie to you, but I can’t tell you the truth about Vegas.”

  Cal took a step closer. “What are you so scared of?”

  Another step away, her throat was dry, her mind racing. She was scared of the look of determination in his eyes. She was scared of hurting him, of giving in and being the woman who betrayed him. She was scared that if she kept pushing him away, eventually he’d stop coming back—that no matter what she did, she’d be doing the wrong thing. “Letting everyone down.”

  Another step closer. “You couldn’t.”

  Another step back, into the unyielding wall. “You’re putting me on a pedestal. I don’t belong there.”

  Cal closed the distance between them. “I don’t believe you.”

  Resting one hand against the wall above her head, he used the other to brush open the towel wrapped around her, exposing the sodden shirt clinging to her breasts. The corner of his mouth ticked up. “You’re going to give in, Lara…” He ran his fingers feather-light across her collarbone, pressed one knee against the wall opposite the arm that flanked her.

  Her breath sucked in, a pulse throbbed deep between her legs. She didn’t dare look at him. His seductive confidence terrified her.

  His voice was low, deep. “…because, I’m not going to play fair.”

  She swallowed hard. Having him this close was wreaking havoc on her body. The rippled muscles of his torso were only inches away from the puckered skin of her nipples and she ached to arch into him, to ease the need that had been growing in her for weeks. She wanted to stretch her hands wide over his stomach and absorb the touch and feel of every ridge, every hollow.

  “Can you say you don’t want me?” He ran his hand along the side of her ribs, across the swells of her breast, to the valley between her breasts.

  She peered up at him from beneath lowered lashes. “I don’t know what I want…”

  “You don’t know…if you want this?” His fingers stroked down to her abdomen, dipping into the top of her shorts so t
hat his knuckles rubbed the soft skin below her belly button.

  She sucked her tummy in. Unable to stop herself, she gazed into the dark pools of Cal’s eyes and felt herself pulled further under his control.

  “I want it,” she gasped, “but there’s more than just that.”

  His fingers moved to the buttons of her shirt. God, she wanted him to rip them open, press her against the wall and take her before she had the chance to talk herself out of it. But he tortured her, tracing the outer edge of each button, playing with it before abandoning it, still fastened, to move on. His open palm skimmed a fraction of an inch above her breast, the heat permeating the fabric beneath, tormenting her aching, hard nipple.

  Cal lowered his head to her ear, his lips resting against the outer shell. Warm air teased the whorl in rhythmic puffs with each breath, sending chills skittering across her skin. It was too much, the almost-touch of him against her, she wanted him more than she’d ever wanted anyone. It was too much to keep saying no.

  Cal whispered to her. “Lie to me, Lara.” His hips leaned into her, his hand closed the scant distance between them, his thumb stroking her nipple, his palm cupping her breast.

  She gasped, her pussy throbbing, sending a hot rush of wet warmth between her legs.

  “Lie to me.” His lips grazed her skin, never breaking the connection as he dragged them from her ear down to her jaw and over to the corner of her mouth. “If that’s what’s stopping you, tell me it wasn’t you in Vegas.”

  Lara stared at the face so close to hers. He was waiting. She was lost. In a whisper so low it was barely audible, the words slipped out. “It wasn’t me…”

  Chapter Eight

  No more indecision and trying to figure a way out that was fair and right. Lara needed him for herself. Cal wanted her, and she’d never wanted a man like she wanted him. His offer was her lifeline, her chance to have it all. Hating herself, but unable to stop, she grabbed the hem of her shirt and yanked it over her head, throwing it aside. Cal stood frozen in place, his body tensed like it took every ounce of his control to hold back. His endless blue eyes searched hers, their intensity making her quiver.

  She said it again, feeling the weight of it lifting off her. “It wasn’t me.”

  His restraint snapped. She was in his arms, gasping as he crushed her against him, taking her in a hungry kiss, urgent and demanding. Her hands slid over the hard terrain of his chest, cleaving to his unyielding shoulders. She opened wide to him, meeting the thrust of his tongue with a quivering moan. He moved in her mouth, plunging deep, stroking her palate. His kiss tasted like possession, each thrust of his tongue a claim that tightened the coil of need spiraling through her.

  His hand roved over her back, down the curve of her butt to her thigh and hiked her leg against his hip. Their wet clothes rubbed between them, and Cal broke away from the kiss with a growl.

  “Don’t—” she gasped, reaching for him. She’d given in and now she couldn’t stop—couldn’t let him stop. But he wasn’t. He dropped to his knees and tugged Lara’s shorts down her hips and off her legs.

  Standing against the wall wearing only her pink bra and panties, both soaked and showing every raised bump and wet valley, she felt a fresh wave of moisture pool between her legs. She wanted him to see her, past all the lies she’d thrown in his face and into the truth at the center of her.

  Cal groaned, kneeling before her, his eyes level with her pussy as he dragged the panties, wet and clinging to her skin, down as well. He helped her step out of them and then planted his hands on her hips. Circling the tender skin at the junction of her thighs with his thumbs, he parted the swollen lips of her pussy, releasing the musky scent of her sex and a dribble of juices down her inner thigh.

  “I need you…” she panted.

  He leaned into her and ran the tip of his tongue between her folds, passing in one fleeting second over her throbbing clit. Her breath caught in her throat, every nerve in her body sizzled with the anticipation of more.

  One hand circled behind her thigh and guided her leg over his shoulder. He bowed forward again, this time laving her with the flat of his tongue in one long, smooth, slow stroke. She whimpered softly at the caress, her center pulsing with need.

  Teasing her with feather-light kisses, and tiny tastes, he ran his free hand up the side of her hip to the under swell of her breast, moving over the stiff peak of her aching nipple. The scant contact only intensified her need.

  Curling his fingers into the top of the lacy cup, he pulled the fabric down and massaged her fleshy mound. Flexing his hand open, he caught her nipple between two fingers. Spasms of sweet relief rippled through her body as he pinched lightly, holding the sensitized nub in his grasp so it pulled and twisted with his every knead of her breast.

  Lara’s hips began to rock in an effort to increase the pressure of his touch. Cal moved his hand down, between her legs. He peered up at her, his mouth still brushing against her pussy. “Lean against the wall, Lara.”

  She pressed her shoulder blades into the wood paneling as he shifted, lifting her standing leg off the floor. She was opened to him now, as vulnerable as she’d ever been with a man. Too aroused, too desperate to be self-conscious, she gave herself over completely to his control. Steadily, he settled her leg over his other shoulder, supporting her so that his arms cradled her thighs and hips, and his face burrowed into the wet of her sex.

  Squirming with pleasure, Lara looked down at Cal and his shock of hair shifting between her legs as he tongued her channel, nuzzling her clit with his nose. She sifted her fingers into the thick strands of blond, pulling and clutching at it, as he sucked and nibbled her in turn, stoking the fire within her that already threatened to burn out of control.

  His tongue curled at her opening, thrust inside her. He lapped at her inner walls and then stroked the length of her pussy to her clit, back and forth until she moaned, writhing against his face, her heels digging into his back.

  His every touch took her higher, closer to orgasm. “Cal,” she gasped, “Please…” She wanted him inside of her, his weight pressing down against her hips as he drove into her—but her ability to speak was lost as he circled her nub with his tongue, captured it between his teeth. He sucked and stroked the erogenous bundle of nerves until she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t contain the pleasure that slammed through her body demanding release. Clutching his hair in her fists, her head thrown back with a shuddering cry, she came hard against his mouth. Waves of pulsing heat seized her until, finally, her wracked muscles gave in and she slumped against the wall in sated exhaustion.

  Cal eased Lara off his shoulders and, supporting her in his arms, laid her down on the floor. The sweet tang of her juices mingling with the frenzied cries of her release had driven him to the edge. Leaning back on his knees, he pulled at the drawstring securing his pants.

  “Cal…” Lara’s voice sounded thick, husky. “I want you…”

  Glancing up from the damp knot at his waist, his throat went dry. She was tracing light circles low over her belly, her one taut nipple still exposed from his play at her breast. Slowly she spread her knees wide, offering him a perfect view of her pretty pink pussy. His erection throbbed harder. Impatiently, he jerked at the stubborn drawstring, forcing it free. He shucked the pants and boxers in one motion before crawling naked between her spread legs.

  The head of his cock pressed against her slick lips. He had to close his eyes to keep from losing it right then and there. Using all his restraint, he pressed into her opening, making her gasp as she stretched to take him. She was so wet, so tight and eager. He wanted to slam into her but he gritted his teeth and groaned, savoring the feel of her taut passage slowly enveloping him.

  Cal stopped, feeling he’d gone as deep as he could without hurting her.

  “Please, more. Don’t stop… I need all of you.” Her pleas were tinged with desperation. She was so tight. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a question began to form. But as Lara spread her l
egs wider, drawing her thigh up his side to take him deeper, all rational thought was lost.

  He buried himself to the hilt, grazed her clit with his groin in a teasing kiss of flesh that left her breathless. He pulled back in one torturous, slow stroke and then slid into her warm hold with a groan.

  She stared at him with a look that devastated his heart and soul, made him feel like the only man to ever possess her, the only man alive. With each stroke, her breath quickened, the color in her cheeks rose, her inner walls clung to him tighter and tighter. His hips pumped harder, faster, driving into her again and again, until she arched back, her mouth forming a silent “o” as she climaxed around him. Her body and her pleasure took him past the point of control. Every muscle in his body tensed as she contracted around him. His balls drew tight. Staring down into her sated face, he came with a roar, spilling his seed into her wet depths.

  ***

  They lay together in a tangle of limbs on the boathouse floor. Lara’s head rested against his shoulder, her damp curls spilling across his abdomen, the crash of waves sounding beyond the walls. Nothing had ever felt so right. Nothing so real.

  Lara had been silent for several minutes. Cal held her, playing with a dark lock of hair, rubbing it between his fingers.

  “You’re going to have to comb those knots out,” she said into the hollow between his pecs.

  Cal tucked his chin back, looking down at the top of her head. He couldn’t see her face, but her voice was teasing. “I could think of worse things to do with my time.”

  Lara shifted and angled her head to face him. A mischievous smile played on her lips. “I could think of better things.”

  “Me too. And right now,” Cal pulled Lara across his body so that her legs straddled his hips, her breasts pressed flat against his chest, “the best way would be a bit of getting to know you.”

  Her eyes immediately went distant. She tried to push away from his body, but he caught her by the arm.

  “All I mean is that I don’t even know where you live. I’m not sure how I managed to miss asking that while we were emailing, but if I’m planning on following you to the ends of the earth, maybe I ought to know in advance what cliff you call home.”