His face seemed to go blank, as though a mask had slipped over his features and concealed any clues to what he might be thinking. “Regret is a waste of time. The best thing I can do now is keep taking action so people know I’m not that same person.”
“What happened?”
“I was a dumb kid who didn’t want to be in school. I started skipping class, started smoking and getting into trouble. I got kicked out of one high school for fighting.” He raked a hand through his hair. “Then there were a few break-ins in our neighborhood. Some stereo equipment was stolen and I happened to have bought myself a new game console that week. People said I pawned the stuff but I never stole anything. I had a job but that didn’t stop people talking. My parents ended up sending me away to live with my aunt for a while.”
“That must have been hard.”
“Yeah, I had a teacher once tell me that she never thought I’d amount to anything because I was a ‘bad seed.’ A rotten apple.” He shrugged, but hurt glimmered in his eyes. “I guess that’s why I’m so pissed that my boss blames me for what happened with her daughter. She’s like that old teacher.”
“Maybe you’re a bad boy,” Bailey said with a smile. “I hear they’re popular.”
“I’m a risk-taker.”
“That’s not always a good thing. Just my opinion, of course.” She held up her hands, not wanting to insult him but more reminding herself that Lance was not the kind of guy to get entangled with…no matter how tempting he looked.
“You didn’t seem to mind me acting a little risky earlier,” he said.
“I was having trouble arranging my thoughts.”
“I wonder why.”
She had an overwhelming desire to abandon her food and climb into his lap. To kiss that smirking mouth into submission. To take and take and take until her body was sated.
But now she had the distance and clear head to think about whether or not kissing Lance was a good idea. He was handsome, sure, and he had a body like a God. Not to mention his talented mouth. But she was relying on him for help this weekend since it was clear that she couldn’t work up the courage to confront Julian on her own.
Jeopardizing that was all kinds of stupid.
What’s your primary objective?
It was the question her grandfather had taught her to ask herself whenever she felt muddled and anxious about making a decision. Always come back to the goal, which, in this case, was the watch. Did kissing help that along? No.
“I seem to recall some kind of distraction,” she said airily, reaching for a petit four in decadent shades of pink and yellow.
“I’m feeling some kind of distracted now.”
“Hmm?” She popped the cake in her mouth and looked up mid-way through eating it. Sticky strawberry-flavored jam dotted her fingertip.
In a flash Lance was out of his chair, looming over her. “Mind if I share your dessert?” he asked, capturing her wrist in one hand.
The heat from his eyes made her tingle all over and her ability to communicate melted down into a single syllable. “Hmmm.”
He brought her hand to his mouth and enveloped her finger with his lips. The firm sucking sensation made her mind go blank, her brain fizzing for a moment before shutting down completely. She couldn’t even hold her eyes open. All she wanted was to revel in the feel of his mouth on her, of the hot promise on his lips.
“Delicious,” he whispered and the warmth of his breath on her cheek told her he was close.
All she had to do was turn her head and—
“Oh baby!”
The shrill cry cut through their moment, plunging Bailey into an ice-cold bucket of reality. “Huh?”
Her eyes snapped open and the telltale rhythmic squeak of mattress springs filled the room. A high, keening moan came through the wall followed by a growl of pleasure. She was all too familiar with that particular sound.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered, folding her arms over her chest. “At least I know I’m not going to have to listen to it all night. Should be done in a few minutes.”
Lance snorted. “Sounds like you’re better off without him.”
They paused as another cry cut through the air. The squeaking intensified.
“Oh for the love of God.” This was a hundred shades of awkward.
“Do you want to go for a walk?”
And let Julian beat her? Again? At some point a girl had to dig her heels in and stop letting herself be pushed around.
“No way. I’m sick of doing things because of him. We’re staying.” She folded her arms across her chest.
Lance rocked back on his heels, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his tracksuit pants, which only drew her eyes there. The material was thin and it clung to him, outlining a rather impressive bulge, despite his attempt to pull the material forward.
She opened her mouth to say something but her train of thought was derailed when there was a loud bump, causing a large print to shake against the wall. The moans were louder now, clearer.
“Do they not have sound proofing in this damn hotel?” she muttered, pushing out of her seat and pacing in front of the bed.
Leaving the room would mean giving Julian another victory over her and even if he never found out about it, she would know. She was sick of giving things up for selfish people.
Lance raised a brow. “Are you sure—?”
“We’re not leaving.”
…
There had to be some way to distract Bailey. And he needed an alternative to what he wanted to do—which was to throw her down on the bed and show her what it was like to be with a guy who lasted more than a few minutes. Hell, he wanted to show her what it would be like to be licked from head to toe. To be fucked so thoroughly and completely that she forgot her ex’s name. That she forgot her own name.
But that couldn’t happen now that it was clear she was in pain.
He wouldn’t take advantage by using her vulnerability to get her into bed, even though he was quite sure she would have gone willingly a moment ago.
An idea struck him. He could kill two birds with one stone—help her have a little fun in a crazy awkward situation and get one over her Neanderthal ex. That idiot needed to know what he’d lost. “If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. Right?”
“What on earth are you talking about?” Her arms were folded tight under her bust, dragging the hem of his T-shirt higher up her legs.
He jumped onto the bed and bounced up and down so the springs squeaked. “They’re not the only ones who can make a little noise.”
Her lips twitched. “You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, Bailey,” he moaned loudly.
Pink spread out across her cheeks and she clamped a hand over her mouth, shaking her head. “You did not just do that.”
“Oh, yeah!” He jumped again, pausing only to hold a hand out to her. “Come on.”
She hesitated but a thump behind the adjoining wall rattled the prints again and she let out a frustrated ugh. “Screw it.”
Her hand slipped into his and she jumped up onto the bed beside him, testing her balance as she bounced. Still holding his hand, she jumped hard. The shift in the mattress almost knocked him over.
“Oh, Lance, do me harder!” she cried, stifling a giggle with her other hand.
They jumped together, picking up the pace. She tossed her glasses onto the side table and her hair slipped from the knot on her head, tumbling over her shoulders in luscious black waves. It fell down her back and flicked as she jumped.
“Fuck me,” she cried out. “Please, Lance, fuck me.”
Her full lips wrapped around the curse and sent arousal spiking hard and fast through him. The dirty words were a thrilling combination with her innocent face and wide, electric eyes. A stunning contradiction that he did not have the will power to fight. His mind spiraled into vivid fantasies.
“You’ve got a potty mouth,” he said at normal volume, smiling to hide how much he wanted to hear her scream those words f
or real.
She bounced up and down, her breasts swaying under the cotton T-shirt. The peaks of her nipples pressed against the fabric, tempting him to touch. Taste.
“I was taught that a lady should never swear, but sometimes the best thing you can do is say fuck. It’s very stress relieving.” Bailey’s eyes shimmered like a lightning storm.
How anyone had thought this woman was boring or a prude was beyond him.
“Fuck!” Lance stretched the word out long and loud. “You know what, you’re right.”
She backed up on the bed, kicking the pillows out of the way, and grabbed the headboard. “What do you think? How about we give this bed a work out?”
“Hell, yeah.”
They rattled the board and Bailey thumped her palm against the wall for good measure. “You’re noisy in bed.” She grinned cheekily.
“You have no fucking idea,” he said under his breath. His whole body was primed for her; his cock was like a steel rod and his palms itched.
But he wasn’t going to give in, not tonight. When he slept with a woman, it was because she wanted to be with him, not because she was hurt or sad or trying to be competitive. He wasn’t anyone’s second choice.
If Bailey decided to come into his bed, it would be the two of them only. No competition from the room next door, no lingering worries about her ex. Which meant for now, it wasn’t going to happen.
Chapter Six
Lance woke up with a hard-on from hell. After he and Bailey finished their sexy noises prank, they’d watched a movie on his bed. Then he’d ordered a cot for her to sleep on since she’d refused his offer for her to have the bed. It’d been hard not to notice the way she looked at him, hungry and hot and wanting. But he’d stuck to his morals and put her to bed with nothing more than a kiss on the cheek.
Now his dick had decided to take revenge. Seriously, he was hard enough to drill holes through concrete.
“Do you want the bathroom?” Bailey asked as she collected her new clothes and carefully cut the tags off with a pair of nail scissors.
“Ladies first.” Better that she vacate the room so he could stand up without her seeing him tent his jocks. As it was, he had to bend his knees up under the sheets and pretend he was happy sitting there so she didn’t think he was some kind of sex-starved perv.
Once she’d disappeared into the bathroom, he got up and stretched his arms above his head. Rather than thinking about his current state of arousal, he needed a plan for the day. He was supposed to have breakfast with Janet so they could go over the details for the Take Two luncheon tomorrow. What if he brought Bailey along? A man in love wouldn’t leave his other half alone for breakfast, would he?
The sad fact was, he didn’t know. Love wasn’t something that he’d ever experienced, at least not beyond the platonic love he had for family and close friends. Sadder still was the fact that he wanted nothing more than to find the right girl and settle down, but that didn’t mean he’d settle for anything less than perfect. Or compromise his values.
Hence the hard-on from hell.
Bailey came out of the bathroom a moment later, dressed in a dark blue sleeveless dress that skimmed her small hips and had a modest V neckline. She’d pulled her hair up the same as yesterday and black-rimmed glasses sat on her pert nose. The whole look was professional and serious. It was completely at odds with the cheeky girl who’d jumped on the bed with him last night. And now that he knew her better, he felt as if the outfit was a front. A shield.
“What do you think?” she asked, twirling around.
“You look prim and proper. Perfect to play the role of my serious, responsible girlfriend.” He’d meant it as a compliment but she wrinkled her nose.
“That sounds about as exciting as a gluten-free muffin.”
“What? That’s what we were going for, isn’t it?”
“I guess.” She smoothed her hands down the dress.
“You’d look lovely in a paper bag.” He laid a hand on her bare shoulder. “Honestly, you could walk outside in that T-shirt I loaned you last night and be the hottest girl in the room.”
Her eyes widened but she covered it with an animated scoffing sound. “I know full well what you do for a living, Lance. Don’t think you can use those manipulative tricks on me.”
“Don’t challenge me, Bailey. I’ll drag your ass up to any man downstairs and they’ll agree with me.”
She took a step back. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“I would. So take the damn compliment, would you.” He gave her arm a squeeze. “You’re hot. Deal with it.”
She mumbled something under her breath but they didn’t have time to further debate her appearance. Breakfast started in half an hour and he needed to wash the tension from his limbs…among other places.
…
Bailey pottered around the hotel room, trying to distract herself while Lance showered. Her mind kept tempting her with naughty suggestions, like needing to grab something from the bathroom. Right now.
It wouldn’t be her fault if she happened to glance in the direction of his naked body, right? He couldn’t possibly look as good under those clothes as what her imagination had drawn. Because her mind had created an image that was beyond perfection.
There was no denying what she’d felt last night, with her fists curled into his T-shirt and her legs pressed against his. Then there was the jumping on the bed thing. The way he’d cried out her name in mock ecstasy. What would it sound like as he called her name in real ecstasy? How would it feel to be pinned beneath him as he drove into her over and over?
“Stop it,” she said to herself. She’d only purchased two extra pairs of panties last night and she could not afford to ruin one now.
But Lance Fulton was driving her undeniably and categorically crazy.
“You’re his serious and responsible girlfriend, remember?” she said, glaring at her reflection. “Not the hot, sexy, bombshell girlfriend. Or the fun, pretty, sweet girlfriend. You’re Bailey Rueben. Reliable, sensible, and boring.”
Tears pricked her eyes and she blinked them away quickly. The tiny pharmacy section of the hotel gift store only had regular mascara in stock, not the waterproof stuff she felt more secure in. Crying now would not only be embarrassing but they’d be late if she had to redo her makeup.
Suck. It. Up.
“Ready to go?” Lance walked out of the bathroom and a tantalizing waft of soap, aftershave, and man followed him in some kind of intoxicating cloud.
He’d put on a different suit today. This one was a pale gray, the high quality wool looked soft and touchable. Underneath, he wore a white shirt that was open at the collar. The lack of color made his eyes look brighter, greener. And the crisp shirt made his skin appear warm and tanned.
“Uh-huh.” Seems the scent had the same effect as his kiss. It was kind of sad how quickly she could be reduced to syllables.
They made their way down the hall and Bailey couldn’t help but shoot daggers at the door to Julian and Selena’s room as they walked past. The elevators were bustling already, each one that opened already half filled with hotel guests.
“We’ll have to squeeze into the next one,” Lance said, checking his watch. “We’re supposed to meet Janet now.”
“Sure.” Running her tongue along the inside of her lower lip, she nodded.
“How did you sleep?”
Oh, I don’t know. I spent half the night lying awake trying to convince myself not to crawl into your bed and the other half dreaming about what it would be like if we hadn’t been interrupted. Is there a girl equivalent to a wet dream? ’Cause I had it.
“Fine,” she said, sucking in a breath. “The cot was comfortable enough.”
“Good.” Another elevator dinged and they stepped in.
Bailey hugged her arms tight to her body but another hotel guest decided to push her way in at the last minute, forcing Bailey hard up against Lance. At least she hoped it was him.
She turned her head to check a
nd sure enough her gaze snagged on the bare hint of his blond stubble. An arm wrapped around her waist and he hugged her back to him, fitting the curve of her bottom against his crotch.
“What are you doing?” she mouthed and he grinned.
“Can’t I hug my girlfriend in an elevator?”
And he thinks I give mixed signals.
Maybe he was warming up for the meeting with his boss, like a method actor getting into character. This was exactly why Bailey hated dating. All the games, the signals that needed to be interpreted, over analyzing every single little word…
Give her a master-level Sudoku any day.
But they weren’t dating. This was a onetime deal, a fake relationship as a means to an end. And yet she was still anxious and overstrung as if it were the real thing. The elevator arrived at ground floor and everyone filtered out.
Lance slipped his hand into hers. “Are you ready to play the role of the future Mrs. Fulton?”
“Are we supposed to be engaged?” Her lungs squeezed. “We haven’t even talked this through. I don’t know anything about you.”
How had she been too distracted to notice that little factor? Oh that’s right…kissing Lance. Seemed she’d fried a few brain cells. Permanently.
They hadn’t planned anything out, hadn’t gotten their stories straight or shared even the most basic of things about each other. Like favorite foods or star signs—not that she believed in them—or even where they were from.
“Relax, it’ll be fine. She’s not my mother and she won’t grill you.” He led them through the noisy lobby until they reached the café.
“Where are you from?” she said, a million other questions backing up in her mind like a highway car pile-up. “Are we serious? Have I met your family?”
“I live in San Francisco.” His words seemed slow in comparison to her machine-gun staccato.
“Me, too.”
“So we’re not long distance. That’s good.” They paused outside the café and he placed his hands on her arms, smoothing them up and down in a calming rhythm. Quieting the panic inside her with surprising effectiveness. “So we agreed that we’ve been dating for a month, right?”
Loving the Odds (What Happens in Vegas) Page 6
