Married In Vegas_ In His Arms (The Vault)

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Married In Vegas_ In His Arms (The Vault) Page 4

by Terri E. Laine


  He grinned at me as he pulled back. His eyes sweeping down the length of my body.

  “I am not walking out there naked,” I warned.

  That only made him laugh. He urged me to follow him off the bed as the knock sounded again. He bent and picked up a pair of boxers from the floor. I looked at him. He wasn’t fat by any stretch of the imagination, but he was still bigger than me. I sighed looking at my dress. There wasn’t time to put it on. I bent and slipped the boxers on and had to roll them a few times at the waist so they wouldn’t fall off my hips. He dragged on his dress pants and moved forward.

  I wanted to protest that him walking out bare chested was acceptable, but not for me. On the other hand, if the guy bringing the key left, my modesty would be the least of my worries. I covered my breasts as best I could with my left arm crossing over the front of me. As he reached the door, he shifted me behind him.

  “Hey,” he said as the door opened a crack. I couldn’t see from where I stood.

  There was an exchange. Apparently, he had cash in his pocket, because I saw him pull it out. It couldn’t be one of his buddies. He’d called a store of some sort. And it bothered me a little that he hadn’t had to search for a number. Had he locked himself with someone else before? That thought pissed me off though I had no right to be.

  “Thanks,” he said, and the door was closed.

  There was a little black bag tied with a ribbon in his hand and it threw me for a loop.

  “That’s some kind of service,” I said, eyeing the fancy packaging.

  “Something like that,” he said.

  He hustled me into the room. But instead of opening the little bag, he gave me a little push so I’d fall back on the bed. He drew off the boxers I’d wore and crawled over to cover me.

  Cam kissed like no other. In his arms, I felt consumed and needed by the eagerness for which he devoured me.

  “First I’m going to taste you,” he said. I arched an eyebrow in challenge, but he continued. “Then I’m going to fuck you so you never forget who you belong to.”

  I might have called him out for talking shit. Belong to him my ass. Then his hands were there lifting squeezing my ass possessively as he licked his way from my clit down my slit. He buried his tongue so deep in my pussy and stroked over and over my g-spot. All protests about him playing football in New York and me living in Texas flew out of my mind.

  I raked my nails over his scalp trying to find purchase. I’d never been one to enjoy oral sex. Most guys didn’t have a clue what they were doing down there. Those that weren’t Cam had treated my pussy like they were trying to find the center of a tootsie roll pop with the fewest licks.

  Cam’s skill level would have been called master. He took his time, knowing exactly how much pressure to use even when I clung to his hair like handlebars. It would have been comical if I wasn’t on the verge of lift off. If giving cunnilingus was as effortless as riding a bike, I might not have been so sexually frustrated all my years of dating.

  Not thinking straight in a burst of need, I yelled, “Ride me, big boy.”

  Later I would be embarrassed. At that moment, I would have longed for riding crop. Cam had a cock the size of a bulls and I was down to the final eight seconds.

  Cam pulled away with several of his hairs in my hand. He spread my legs wide and drove his monster dick inside me. I sucked in a lungful of air trying to let myself adjust.

  “Mine,” he said, growling like a wild animal.

  “Yours,” I answered, too close to coming to play his teasing game again.

  He hooked his free arm under my leg to lift my ass off the bed, giving him more room to ram that amazing rod of his like a piston inside me.

  “Come,” he demanded.

  I might have laughed when he sounded like some dirty romance novel, but damn if I didn’t spasm around him.

  How many orgasms can one have in a day? I almost asked if he wanted to go for the world record. But he followed me into bliss and savagely took my mouth in a possessive kiss.

  Spent, I lay there sprawled over the bed. I heard a drawer open and then he loomed over me and eyed the cuffs.

  “Just because I’m unlocking this doesn’t mean you’re free.” His gaze was pure warning. “Don’t run from me Chrissy.”

  I nodded, unable to speak. I hadn’t gathered my breath yet and once again couldn’t argue his use of that cursed nickname. Before I knew it, I was free.

  I ran a hand over my wrist. It didn’t exactly hurt, but it felt weird not having the cool metal there.

  He got off the bed, setting the tiny keys on the night table. I didn’t see the bag. He must have put it in drawer I’d heard him open. The boy was fast. It hadn’t seemed like he had the time to get it open. I guess they didn’t call him magic hands for nothing.

  “Don’t leave,” he said, pointing at me. “I’m going to get a cloth to clean us up.”

  Again, I nodded and lay back on the bed. I closed my eyes and pushed back the fear welling up in me.

  My father had left my mother when I was too young to understand why daddy was leaving. There had been a string of men after. Not changing every day, but none lasted long enough for me to finish a two-year-stretch in school. I had serious trust issues. If not for Eddie, I might not have ever trusted a guy at all.

  As I heard the water run in the bathroom, I thought about how easy it would be for me to grab my dress, put it halfway on and leave. It was a huge hotel and my room wasn’t in this wing. Cam wouldn’t be able to find me. Before I acted on those thoughts, he was there standing in the doorway of the bathroom staring at me.

  “You wanted to run?”

  I shrugged, unable to deny the feeling was there. Disappointment found residence on his handsome features, and I hated I’d put it there.

  “Cam,” I started.

  He held up a hand to stop me. “I’m just glad you didn’t leave.” He used the cloth to loving clean us up after our vigorous love making. Love. I couldn’t think that way, not ever again.

  As much as I’d pushed him away after prom all those years ago, I still ended up broken hearted. I didn’t blame him, but I couldn’t do that again.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked.

  The question elicited a growl from my belly. I glanced over at the clock and realized it was well past noon. So much for checking out and catching an earlier flight.

  “Yeah.”

  He handed me the room service menu and I settled on a burger. Who could mess that up? After he placed our orders, he turned to me.

  “I was thinking—” he began.

  I pressed my fingers to his lips this time. “Don’t say it.” I scrammed off the bed and headed for the bathroom.

  “You’re not running are you?”

  I braced my forearm on the doorframe and shook my head. “I’m going to take a shower,” I said and shook my head again when he made a move to follow me. “Alone.”

  I’d walked over bowlegged wondering if I’d ever recover from sex with the most eligible bachelor in America or so People magazine reported in their headline.

  “You look like you rode a horse,” he teased.

  I turned around just before closing the door and gave him my best retort. “What? Is that some reference to you being hung like one?” I gave him a second to soak in the what I said, before I castrated him with my next words. “Because it was more like I was on a lame pony ride.”

  I fought laughter as his smirk turned into a frown. I bit my lip and closed the door between us, locking it for good measures. He would pay me back and I wasn’t sure if I wouldn’t be comatose if I came again. Because no matter what I’d said, Cam had been the best I’d ever had…ever.

  I’d thought that that sentiment was from my school girl crush dreamy-eyed after my first time. But he’d just proven that wasn’t a fluke so many times over. No wonder women put up with his shit and came back for more. I couldn’t blame them. I just wouldn’t be adding to their numbers.

  The water turn
ed tepid as I stood under the spray trying to rein back the idea that Cam really wanted something more than a fling from me. He’d sounded so sincere, but I couldn’t trust the rose color that frosted my eyes every time he was in a room. It could never work between us. That was a fact I would never forget.

  “Are you coming out anytime soon? The food’s getting cold,” he called from the other side of the door.

  How long had I been in the bathroom? My phone was out there with him, so I had no idea.

  I toweled off and wrapped it around me, leaving the room.

  The food turned out to be delicious, then again, paper had sounded appealing for how long it had been since I’d eaten.

  “I see you haven’t lost your appetite,” he teased.

  His words hit true against my most vulnerable insecurity. I was never that skinny girl like the string of models he’d dated. Victoria’s Secret whispered to me not to even think about it.

  “No, I haven’t. I’m sure it’s a change to see a woman actually eat without throwing up after. How’s Claudia by the way.”

  What I’d said was mean and immediately I wanted to take it back. But the damage was done. His eyes had gone cold and flat.

  “Let’s leave her out of this.” He tossed his napkin down on the plate. “I’m going to take a shower.”

  He’d closed the door a little too hard before I could apologize. It wasn’t my business what he’d did. We hadn’t been together. He wasn’t married. So anything we’d done was between two consenting adults. Or so I tried to tell myself.

  I went to the bathroom door prepared to go in or at least knock, but stopped and looked at the drawer. Like a thief, I opened it. There unopened sat the black bag. The one side was solid. The other had the gold foil stamp of a high end jewelry store.

  Any other day I would have closed the drawer and not pried. But betrayal sat on my tongue. If he hadn’t opened it, I had two very important questions. First, what had he bought and for whom? We hadn’t spoken in ages, so it wasn’t for me. The second question was why he’d lied about the key. He’d apparently had it all along. I let those two questions justify my next move.

  There next to the little black bag was a card. I opened it.

  Under the jeweler’s logo was a handwritten note.

  The ring has been sized to your specifications. If there are any problems, please let us know.

  The card tumbled end over end as it fell from my slack hand. Tears threatened as I imagined the worst.

  The paparazzi had speculated that Cam would propose to Claudia. He’d been seen out with her more times than anyone else. Is that why he was pissed when I brought up her name? Had I been his final hurrah?

  I let the towel fall and searched for my dress. I wrenched it up and I thought better about leaving without saying a word because I wasn’t running. I had cause to leave.

  I hadn’t expected the door to be unlocked. So when I forcefully turned the knob, momentum carried me two stumbling steps inside the misty bathroom led by the opening door.

  It wasn’t hazy enough I couldn’t see an outline of Cam and I watched him turn.

  Before he could speak, I said more than asked, “Did you have the key all along?”

  “Chris,” he began, finally using my preferred nickname. “Let me explain.”

  “Why don’t you explain to Claudia or whoever you bought that ring for?”

  I didn’t wait for an answer. I finally fled his suite holding up the bodice of the pink chiffon catastrophe I’d been forced to wear to the wedding by one arm. It had gotten a little too tight after my last fitting. Either it was the ritual glazed donut I ate for breakfast every morning or Eddie’s wife hated me. It was probably both. And in a rush as I’d been, I’d been unable to zip the damn thing up all the way.

  Cinderella had nothing on me fleeing through the halls of the hotel to the elevators, uncaring of the stares I got. I hadn’t had makeup remover. Cam hadn’t seemed phased by my raccoon eyes, but the mothers who were holding their kids close as I dashed by thought differently. I did the hundred yard dash through the casino to make it to my designated elevators to reach my room.

  Chapter 6

  It wasn’t like I was rolling in money. Between student loans and rent, I had barely enough money to feed myself not including gas money or anything else. Yet unwisely, I used my credit card and paid that extra two hundred to get on the next flight. I’d hoped to fly standby, but they assured me I was too far down the list to get anything earlier without booking.

  After I’d gotten to my room and begun to pack, I’d made that call and negotiated until I was blue in the face and just paid to be out of Vegas.

  Though I wasn’t sure he try to find me, all Cam had to do was call his brother and make up an excuse to get my room number. I’d made it out of the hotel without incident and tried not to cry the whole time.

  Cam had a reputation with the ladies, but I always assumed I was different. Not in the sense he’d marry me or anything. But that we would be truthful about who we were to each other.

  By the time I barreled through the doors of my apartment, I’d gone from sad to mad.

  “Asshole,” I muttered as I pushed the door closed behind me.

  The air conditioning soothed my heated skin. Today was hotter in Dallas than it was in Vegas and that was saying something.

  My little sister lounged on the couch with her feet propped on the table in front of her. Her perfectly sculpted eyebrows lifted in question.

  “Things didn’t go well?” Jillian asked.

  The last thing I wanted to do was admit humiliation to her, but what were sisters for. I couldn’t admit this to Eddie. Cam’s actions were one of the reasons he’d warned me away from his brother if he caught me staring.

  “Don’t bother,” he’d say. “He’ll only break your heart like every other girl in school.” Then he’d babble on about how his brother’s reputation was the reason no girl would go out with him.

  “I had sex with Cam,” I blurted to Jillian.

  Eddie might have been my first best friend, but he didn’t know what Jillian did about my crush on Cam.

  “Oh,” was all she said.

  “Thanks for your support,” I said grudgingly and headed for my room.

  “Don’t bitch at me. Tell me what happened.”

  Tired and frustrated, I left my bag at my feet and sprawled on the opposite end of the sofa.

  “I promise it wasn’t planned. I had a few too many drinks and ended up handcuffed and in bed with him.”

  “Handcuffed?” she spluttered on a laugh.

  “Yes. and it’s not funny.” Though it was, I explained what happened as dispassionately as possible giving very few details about the sex. However, I did give her an overview of where and how many times.

  She sighed. “I’m sorry.”

  “What are you sorry about?”

  The concern in her eyes was touching, but it hadn’t been her fault I ended up in his bed.

  “You said he had a ring delivered?” she asked.

  I nodded and she held up her phone. It was too far for me to see and I told her as much.

  “I wasn’t going to show you considering the way you tore in here, but you’ll find out anyway.”

  She leaned over and handed me her phone where in bold lettering the headline read. Cameron McCabe Married in Vegas. The posting was less than an hour old.

  Hot unabashed tears spilled like a damn overflow from my eyes. He had used me, something so unlike the Cam I knew.

  “At least I won’t ever have to see him again,” she said.

  Between Eddie and Cam’s rise to fame and fortune, their parents had moved into a new house far across town. If I went home for the holidays, it was likely I wouldn’t run into him. I would just have to make excuses to Eddie why I couldn’t come over for Thanksgiving and Christmas like years past.

  “There’s something else,” Jillian said.

  She reached for her phone and I gave it back to her. She t
apped a few times and handed me the phone again. This headline I should have known since I was a sports reporter. Cameron McCabe traded to Dallas. How had I missed it?

  I had no interest in finding out who the new Mrs. McCabe was, but the other I couldn’t ignore. It was hard enough being a woman reporter of males professional leagues. I sighed in relief when the Associated Press piece stated that it had been a secret agreement that the respective teams only released to the public today. That’s why I hadn’t known.

  But I inwardly cringed. He was back in the area. My beat included Dallas’s NFL league. I would be seeing him again whether I wanted to or not.

  “Chris, are you okay?”

  I glanced up and caught the worry in my sister’s eye.

  “Yeah, just tired.”

  She didn’t buy it, but she didn’t press me either. It was late and tomorrow would be an interesting day. I got up like the walking dead, grabbed my bag, and shambled into my room. I would not hate Cam. It wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t worth it.

  As I cried myself to sleep, the fantasy of a little cake topper that looked like us melted in my dreams.

  Chapter 7

  The first call I got woke me from a strange dream I could barely remember. There was an Elvis impersonator and the smell of flowers. The infomercials playing on my TV advertising the greatest hits by the King had to be the cause.

  “Hello,” I said into the receiver forgetting to check the caller before I answered.

  I blamed that error on loopiness from being snatched from the grips of sleep.

  “You’re alive.”

  It took me a minute to recognize Eddie’s voice.

  “Yeah,” I said, my voice sounding way too scratchy. “What time is it?”

  “Time? Where the fuck have you been?”

  “Why?” I asked. Still trying to clear out the cobwebs from my eyes or was that the puffiness from my overwrought tears that was hindering my vision. “Shouldn’t you be snuggled up with your new wife?”

  It was an honest question.

 

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