Gambling on the Bodyguard

by Sarah Ballance

  His expression read not a chance. Gave her chills. But he didn’t say it. Instead, he said, “I couldn’t tell you how many times I’ve been out here and have stood in this very spot to watch the sun set, but I’ve never seen it more beautiful than the reflection in your eyes.”

  “Is that another one of your lines?”

  “Nah.” He stared nonchalantly at the view as he spoke, but then he tugged at her hand, tipping her just enough in his direction that she landed solidly against him. He released her hand, captured her face. “Don’t ever stop looking, Colorado. Don’t ever settle for anything less.”

  She opened her mouth to ask what he meant, but she didn’t get the chance before his lips touched hers. Claimed them. Fueled something inside her—a fear that they’d get back to Vegas and she’d lose the night, that the spell would be broken. That he’d have to work. Anything, anything but Rome.

  He broke free, only to slant his head and go in deeper. It was that whole tongue-mating thing she’d read in romance novels, only it wasn’t some cliché. It was real. So real.

  She muttered something unintelligible to her own ears and slid her hands under his shirt. His skin was unbelievably hot. When his abs flexed under her fingertips, she had to fight the urge to peel off his shirt, to see what lay beneath. Perfect, that little voice whispered. Had to be utter physical perfection. Could be nothing less.

  He returned the favor on the shirt, drawing her close, then taking over. His hard, incredible body was a force, his kisses a demand. And she wanted more.

  She wanted everything.

  The ache between her thighs turned crippling when he backed her against a rock and worked one of his legs between hers, the sweet tease of the pressure not enough. He’d looped one arm around her back to cushion her against the hard surface, but there was no saving her from him.

  He broke free, and for a single terrifying moment she feared he’d back off again. But then he dove in, this time with his free hand caressing her intimately through her pants. She arched against the pressure, whimpering, and felt his mouth stretch into a smile. “You like that, Colorado?”

  She couldn’t have answered if she tried. She was embarrassingly close to having an orgasm, fully clothed, in public. The sun was low, but not yet touching the horizon, and yet she still had the undying urge to have sex, right there on government property. White-hot need grew and splintered, every jagged edge dragging her closer. And there she was, tearing at his clothes, needing him closer, needing to feel his skin, while he toyed with her.

  “I would like nothing more than to fuck you,” he said. “Right now.”

  Good to know we’re on the same page.

  “But I don’t have a condom on me, so I’m going to have to improvise.”

  She nodded, not even caring what he meant. “Just touch me.”

  “That’s exactly what I had in mind.”

  In public. Reality gave her a mild slap. Was she crazy? “Is anyone coming?”

  “Just you, any minute now.” He moved his hand under her sweater, and her nipples tightened painfully in anticipation of his touch. But instead, he flattened his hand against her belly and worked his way south until his fingers were buried between her thighs. “Do you have any idea how much I want to be inside you right now?”

  Oh, God oh, God oh, God. “Maybe a little,” she managed to whimper.

  “Do you like having your nipples sucked?” He asked her so casually, like he wasn’t curling his fingers inside her, sending showers of sparks to the edges of her peripheral vision to scatter in the desert breeze. “Do you want to feel my mouth on you?”

  Yes. Yes, she did. She nodded. Barely. Maybe. That had never been a thing for her before, but she didn’t think there was any way he could touch her that she wouldn’t love.

  “Lift your shirt.”

  Arms shaking, she obeyed. The cool air on her bare breasts sent yet another jolt of desire through her, and his appreciation as she bared herself to him left her burning.

  He dipped his head and closed his mouth on one stiff peak.

  Her knees honest-to-goodness gave out on contact, but he had her. Or she had him. She hadn’t realized it, but she was riding his hand like a pony, and the scrape of his teeth against her nipple was making her buck.

  And then she was gone. Over the edge with embarrassing speed. She couldn’t even pretend otherwise because if he hadn’t held her, she’d have landed on the ground in a heap. Was that was orgasms were like? All of the sudden she wasn’t sure she’d had one before. Certainly not one like that.

  He steadied her. Once she conquered the ability to stand upright, he sat against the rock and pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her against the nearing twilight. “You want my jacket?” he asked when she shivered.

  “I want you just like this.”

  “I was thinking less clothes and a softer bed.” He murmured the words against her ear, hugging her tighter, enveloping her in his warmth.

  “Look at that sky,” she said. Brilliant streaks of orange and red painted the horizon. “Neon’s got nothing on that.”

  “None of it has anything on you, but the park’s closing. Ready to head back to Vegas?”

  The shiver that overtook her had nothing to do with the air temperature. “Warm bed and no clothes?” she asked. “I’m there.”

  Chapter Seven

  A little more than an hour later, they were back at the Masquerade. Jax handed off his keys to a valet, but Ellie wasn’t so quick to jump down from his ride. Instead she peered off toward the corner of the hotel where a huge crowd buzzed the sidewalk.

  He rounded the SUV and looked up at her. “Have you seen the show?”

  “What show?”

  “Come on.” Her stance on the truck made it too easy for him to pick her up. He had her on his shoulders before she knew what hit her. She shrieked and laughed, only drawing the barest of attention.

  That was Vegas for you. Scary sometimes.

  But never so much as the woman who straddled the back of his neck and held his hands for balance. Held more that, but he didn’t want to go there. Or maybe he wanted to go there a little too badly. Either way, it was a direction best left unexamined.

  Not unlike the Masquerade’s fountain show. It was quite possibly the most ridiculous thing in Vegas, which was saying something…especially standing outside the gaudiest hotel to ever cast a shadow over the strip. And there he stood, for the second time in as many days doing something better left to the tourists. But there wasn’t a red-blooded man alive who’d fault him. As it was, Ellie drew appreciate glances from more than one passerby. Had to be the pants. Her ass was can’t miss, now at eye level to pretty much everyone on the street. The thought was almost enough to make him put her down, but it was he who had landed the spot between her thighs. He might be facing the wrong direction, but she’d chosen him and that was enough.

  A cheer erupted from the crowd. Clue numero uno that the reflecting pool outside the casino had started its floor show. He’d seen it more times than he could count. He could practically follow along the choreographed routine by the oohs and aahs alone, despite the fact that he couldn’t see anything beyond the beehive of the old woman in front of him. She and her hair stood next to a large man wearing an even more enormous Hawaiian shirt that read Lost my Shirt in Vegas across the back.

  With that gaudy thing, the guy should be so lucky.

  So should the shirt.

  Water shot high overhead to a round of applause. Leave it to the tourists to cheer a working fountain. Running water. Working plumbing. Amazing! And it only got better, if better meant worse. Soon a Cinderella-style carriage rose from the depths of the pool while a bunch of masked dancers or swimmers or whatever they considered themselves did a Broadway-reject routine. The whole ordeal would flatline on Rotten Tomatoes if they ever stooped low enough to score sidewalk shows, but the tourists loved it.

  When the crowd began to disperse a few minutes later, it was with a great deal of regre
t that he helped Ellie down from his shoulders. He’d already been half damned feverish from wanting her, and enduring so much body contact only to let her get away was brutal. But they had to eat, so he took her inside the hotel, a little too aware of what awaited him upstairs.

  The buffet was packed. Not surprising. People tended to work up an appetite watching all that marauding, or at least that was what one was inclined to think with the way the buffets filled up after the shows. They hit it anyway. Ellie’s appetite impressed Jax, but then again, she might have been stalling. He hadn’t hauled her straight upstairs because he wanted to give her a chance to change her mind—not because he didn’t want her, but because he wanted her to be sure. Now he feared she might talk herself out of taking things further, but he didn’t want to push her into anything. He much preferred having her beg. Thinking of how she’d moved against him earlier had him dizzy. And he didn’t get dizzy. Or, rather, he never had before.

  They left Topenga hand in hand. The casino floor was crowded, most of the tables three deep with gamers. Periodic cheers erupted, though they largely blended with the noise. It was every gaudy, ridiculous thing he loved about Vegas but he barely saw it.

  He only saw her.

  Only wanted her.

  He tugged at her hand, and she looked up at him, eyes shining. For him, or for the lights? “Want to go upstairs?” he asked.

  Casual, like it didn’t matter, even though suddenly it did. When she smiled, his heart rejoiced.

  Wrong organ, dumbass.

  But he couldn’t bring himself to care. Especially when her gaze tracked below his belt, and his dick jerked like it had been touched.

  When her eyes met his, there was none of the uncertainty he feared he’d see. Instead, an assurance when she smiled sweetly, defying all that innocence she possessed, and wrecked him when she said, “I thought you’d never ask.”

  …

  Ellie felt a little dirty on the walk to the elevator. Not dirty-dirty, but hot-dirty, which may or may not have been a thing in anyone else’s life, but was definitely a new thing in hers. Jax walked casually, his fingers once again laced with hers, the fact that one finger had been buried inside her a dirty little secret between them. So. Much. Dirty.

  “Your room or mine?” He asked so easily, like the question had nothing to do with orgasms between virtual strangers.

  “Erm, mine.” She didn’t want to think about how many other women had been in his before her. Only… “I thought you were local. Why do you have a room?”

  “It’s just for the weekend. Need to stay close to the job.”

  She bit her lip, knowing she had to ask the inevitable before she got upstairs and he touched any part of her and made her forget. “Do you have protection?”

  “Yeah, I snagged some out of the men’s room.” She looked at him in surprise, and he laughed. “Sorry. I didn’t come here expecting…well, consider it a compliment. Did you ever tell your friend you survived your trip to the park?”

  “That’s still questionable,” she said. But she pulled out her phone to text Taylor, only to find a reply to the original message in which she’d sent a picture of Jax’s photo ID.

  Lucky, read the reply.

  She smiled.

  “What?”

  She held up her phone for his inspection. Watched his curiosity spread into a grin.

  Getting there, she replied. Made it back to the hotel.

  The phone dinged. You’d better be limping by morning. In the good way.

  He hit the button for the elevator, then the one for her floor. The ride up was either the slowest or fastest ever—she couldn’t decide. Every time he touched her she forgot how crazy it was that she was with him, but there was no getting close enough. No amount of staring at book covers had ever, ever made her feel like this. If Focker had tried any harder to take her upstairs, she’d have knocked him upside the head. But as far as she was concerned, Jax couldn’t get her up there fast enough. With him she felt worshipped. Needed.

  No one had ever needed her before.

  Not like that.

  Not like anything.

  “You okay?”

  She glanced up and wondered how ice-blue eyes could be so warm. She wanted to tell him she was about to be okay, but equally thought she might never be again. “Is this crazy?”

  “Crazy by Vegas standards? No such thing.”

  “What about for you?”

  He looked at her until the elevator stopped and the doors sprung open, then he shook his head.

  “What?”

  “Don’t know about crazy, Colorado, but it sure feels right.”

  His words hit her all squirrely, right in the chest. She agreed. Couldn’t agree more. And that, not the sex, was the craziest part of it all.

  When they arrived at her room, she slid the keycard and unlocked the door. It felt like ages had passed since they last stood there. And very much like she’d been someone else. Leave it to her to choose Sin City as a place of reckoning.

  Once they were inside, he closed the door then turned all that blue on her. “How much do you love that sweater?”

  “Um, it’s okay?”

  He laughed. “There’s rock dust on it.”

  She turned in a useless circle, trying to look at her back. “And you let me walk around like that?”

  “Yeah, and I loved every minute. Knowing what I did to you out there, fuck.”

  “I think that was more of a finger.”

  He blinked. A grin sprawled. Without taking his eyes off her, he tossed his jacket on a chair and yanked his shirt over his head.

  Oh, sweet Jesus.

  The man redefined chiseled. His abs had actual ridges. His arms were ridiculous, and the tribal tattoo covering one shoulder and bicep was sexy as hell. With the room deep in shadow, the only light coming in the form of ambient neon through open drapes, his eyes were ethereal.

  “Your turn,” he said. His tone sent shivers through her that wracked her soul.

  She toyed with the hem of her sweater, intentionally stalling to see what he’d do. “What happened to that part where you rip off my clothes?”

  He reached into his pocket and withdrew a handful of condoms, then tossed them on the bed without looking. “I’ve spent half the day touching you and the other half dreaming about touching you, and don’t even get me started about last night. I’ve wanted you every minute. I’m done waiting. I want to see your body. Now.”

  She was still stuck on the foil packet stash. Was he planning on using all those things on her? She counted four. A fifth had flown farther than the rest. And one had slid off and hit the floor.

  Six.

  Holy shit.

  She toed off her boots, hoping she wasn’t as visibly shaken as she felt. If she bobbled, he’d know it. His gaze ate her up, and she had no doubt he’d follow suit with his mouth. And soon. Standing there in bare feet, she started to tug at her pants, then remembered the open window. Her gaze darted that way.

  “Leave it,” he said, apparently aware of the direction of her attention. “Unless it’s going to bother you. The lights are off, so no one can see up here.”

  She eyed the window. “No one without binoculars.”

  “People don’t carry those anymore. They just use the zoom on their cell phone cameras.”

  “Funny guy.” She took a few deliberate paces from the window, then stepped out of her pants.

  He sat on the end of the bed, legs sprawled. Bulge noticeable. His chest was mostly bare, probably too chiseled for more than the few intrepid hairs to grow. It’s not like the stuff could sprout through steel, although he did have a nice dusting of happy trail between his belly button and his belt. And his V lines could cut butter. This man should be in his underwear on every billboard in America, but he wasn’t.

  He was on her bed.

  Waiting for her.

  “Take it off,” he said softly. “Let me see you.”

  She was so nervous. And turned on beyond belief.
He looked at her as if he’d found religion, and that scared the hell out of her. How was she supposed to forget something like that?

  Slowly, she peeled off the sweater. She thought she heard an intake of breath from his direction, but by the time she had the fabric over her head, no evidence remained. Now she was down to her thong, and the only reason for that was because Taylor had apparently swapped out Ellie’s actual underwear for dental floss when she wasn’t looking. No one wears granny panties in Vegas. She could still hear the admonishment. Had no idea when her friend had subsequently snuck into her luggage, but at the moment Ellie was eternally grateful. Sort of. Being so close to naked was terrifying, but standing there in granny panties would be mortifying. The difference mattered. Thank goodness the pair she’d worn on the flight in were hanging in the bathroom with her bra. She’d have to sneak in there before he did so she could hide them. Maybe in the garbage.

  “Come here.”

  She did, adding a little bit of sway to her hips.

  He watched like he was attempting to memorize every move. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”

  She hoped it was a rhetorical question.

  “Can I touch you?”

  She hoped that wasn’t. “Yes.”

  He didn’t. Not at first. Not while her nipples tightened into painful peaks and the scent of her arousal permeated the air. Not awkward at all. Finally he reached for her and took her hands, pulling her onto the bed so she sat on her knees, straddling him. Every inch of her body screamed to be touched, but it was her breast, aligned so perfectly with his mouth, that gained his attention. When he sucked in her nipple, all heat and tongue, she grabbed for his head, thinking she was steadying herself. Then she realized she was pulling him in, adding pressure, begging for more. And he gave it. The way he worked his tongue on all that sensitive flesh had her grinding on his jeans. The effort was futile. Mere denim couldn’t touch what he’d done to her earlier with his fingers, and now that she was a little more familiar with his mouth, she knew she was screwed. The idea that she could survive on one night with this man was ridiculous.