I stare at his eyes so long I almost miss the hand that he’s extended in front of me.
We both watch rapt as my hand lands in his and his long fingers close around my palm, pulling me into a hug. I fit myself into his embrace and take a shaky breath. “Jessie J, you gotta come back to me.”
The familiar pressure of tears fills my eyes, and the crack in my facade widens, exposing me. “Why would you say that? There’s been too much…” time and energy and hurt feelings. “Of everything.” I wouldn’t even know where to start.
“Because you’re here. And because I love you. And because Nai Nai is… She’s gone and my heart is broken, Jess.” His voice cracks around my name and with it, something in his demeanor. “I’m broken, and I think you might be the only person on earth who can put Humpty Dumpty back together again.” Daniel takes a heaving breath, holding in a sob.
I lean back in his arms and glance up at his face. His eyes are squeezed shut, tears sliding fast and strong over high cheekbones and down the sharp edges of his whiskered jaw. His nostrils are flared with the pent-up emotion he’s trying so desperately to hold back, and I lose all pretenses.
I care very little about his penance or mistakes. I want nothing more than to take away that pained look. Replace it with a familiar cocksure grin.
“Shhh. It’s okay.” I raise on tiptoes, cupping his face with both hands, my thumbs rubbing at the wetness collected there, and he shudders under my touch. His head shaking back and forth almost violently as he tries so desperately to hold it together.
“Daniel, look at me,” I plead, and his eyelids peel back to reveal bloodshot eyes brimming with unshed tears. “You’re going to get through this.”
His forehead drops to mine, hands clasp my waist, and even with hurt feelings and the uncertainty of us, my body responds, buzzing with hypotheticals—can we do this? Can I? Can this crazy connection that flairs to life with the simple touch of his skin against mine be enough to help us overcome all our barriers? “I’m not too sure that I will. It’s feels like—like my whole world just went ass over tits and amid that upheaval, I lost not one but two of the most important people in my life.”
“I’m so sorry to hear about Nai Nai.” I purposefully leave myself out of the conversation. I’m too raw, and this moment is too heavy. Every inhale takes more of my oxygen, filling my nose and senses with him, and I can’t breathe. Not regularly, anyway.
“Tell me it’s not too late, that I’m not too late.” His words drift across my lips as a desperate plea.
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. Right now, I think he’s perfect. The clown has been laid to rest and the warm, sensitive man that I’ve always known was there’s finally taking the reins. “For right now, let’s just focus on the present—”
He breaks the connection of our skin, lifting his forehead far enough to focus his eyes on me. The look is soul-searching. “You’re my present and future, Jessie. You know that. Deep down, I know you do.”
I shake my head, but the movement is impeded by Daniel’s cheek rubbing mine. His lips ghost across my jaw blindly finding my lips.
“You do,” he whispers against my lips, hovering close enough to coax me into action. I dart my tongue out, brushing the crease of his bottom lip, and the kiss goes molten. The salt of his tears tinges the kiss with sorrow, but there’s something else. A longing, or maybe it’s an insatiable desire? Whatever it is, it exists exclusively in the intimacy of his rapid heartbeat pounding against mine. It’s all-encompassing.
“Daniel,” I whisper, pulling my mouth from his. “This is the easy part.”
“Then make it easy.” He dives in with a kiss that’s part enticement, part intention, and I lean in, into the crushing fear and the fledgling hope that his words spark.
I let him walk me into his bedroom and splay me across the bed. I don’t protest when he peels my clothes off or when his naked body hovers over mine. My legs fall open in invitation and Daniel lowers his body. One hand slides down the heated skin of my thigh and hooks under my knee as the weight of his body pins me to the bed.
Our hips roll together until the flared crown of his shaft finds my entrance, and he pushes home. I arch up to meet his hard thrusts, grasping the muscles pumping under the smooth skin of his ass. Daniel pulls my hands from his body, trapping my forearms next to my head.
“I missed this. You feel so good, Jessie. So fucking good,” he moans, but the sound is mixed with a sob.
Hands still trapped, I lean up, running kisses up his neck and over his jaw. My lips find every surface of his face I can reach, offering him comfort the only way I can, with my body and my heart.
We make love like there were no yesterdays and like the calendar ahead has a million tomorrows. Daniel releases my hands, breathing hard, muscles tightening with his impending orgasm. He fists his hands in the hair on either side of my head, brown eyes boring into mine. Tears once again drip down his chin and this time they splatter over my cheeks.
His vulnerability pushes me over the edge toward my own release.
“I love you,” he rasps, his tongue plunging in my mouth. The kiss and declaration ignite an orgasm that starts at the heart of me and slowly expands in pulsing waves that crash over Daniel, rolling him in the intense emotion with me.
He collapses and I cradle his body with mine, absorbing the grief and love, overcome by what we just shared.
I don’t know what happens when we leave this be but for right now, he’s mine. To have and to hold and to comfort and yeah, even to love.
Daniel sits in the bathroom in front of the full-length mirror, in a chair that we dragged from the kitchen. His long hair hangs dark and limp around his shoulders and down his back. I stand behind him, our gazes locked and my fingers combing through the length, detangling any knots, nails scraping along his scalp in a way that I know he likes.
Each blink gets longer and slower, and every so often he reaches up to swipe at the tears that continue to fall down his face.
“Are you sure you want me to do this?” I swallow nervously.
“She’s gone, Jessie, and the world should know that I mourn her. That I’ll always mourn her. Cutting my hair is just a symbol of mourning.” He lifts broad shoulders, once again wiping away a stray tear.
“Is that why your brothers were here?”
“Mm-hmm.” He nods, gathering the thick mass in one ponytail before letting it fall like a dark cloud around his body.
“My brothers and my dad have probably already cut theirs.” His voice is clogged with emotion, his pain its own living, breathing presence in the bathroom with us.
Without further conversation, I place the plastic guard on the clippers. The buzzing is loud in the stillness of his house but Daniel doesn’t so much as blink. His eyes stay glued to my face in the mirror as I start at the spot just above his ear. Locks of hair fall in pieces around us, littering the floor and the countertop, and he bows his head as I get toward the back, eyes still on mine.
Done, I take a towel, running it over his face, head, and shoulders to collect any stray strands. Without the hair as a distraction, the beauty of his face is more apparent—high cheekbones, haunted umber eyes, chiseled jaw, and full, pink lips—I can’t look away.
“Thank you,” he whispers.
“Of course.” I take a step back, but he reaches up, holding my hand to his shoulder.
“Jess, I’m sorry.” The earnest words come out low and rough. “I don’t have any pretty lyrics or a leg to stand on, but if you let me back in, you won’t regret it.”
“What does that look like?” I hate the tinge of shrill that enters my voice.
“Like this.” He threads our fingers where they rest on his shoulder. “It looks like a couple of hours ago in my bed.” He squeezes my digits between his. “It looks however we want it to look.”
My heart lurches and I place
a hand over my stomach to calm the butterflies. If I’m honest, I made the decision about us before I arrived, and it was solidified the second we made love.
“Don’t hurt me again, Daniel.”
He pulls me to stand between his legs, tipping his head back to keep eye contact. “Does that mean you forgive me?”
“No.” It would have carried more weight if I were able to keep a straight face.
He places a soft kiss above my navel where his shorts rest on my skin. “Never?” he insists, a slight smile gracing his lips, and I’m happy to see some small sliver of the man that I’ve come to know over these past few months.
“Never.”
Daniel stands towering over me. His hands rest on my hips, and he dips, nipping my lips. “Come on, poppet. We’re great together.”
“You positive about that?”
“One hunnid percent.” Warm lips brush against mine and he whispers into my mouth, “Let me show you.”
And for the next couple of hours that’s exactly what he does.
Chapter 36
Daniel
I don't know who's more nervous, Jessie or me. My palms are sweaty, and my heart is racing. I can barely walk a straight line because my legs are shaking so bad. My better half, on the other hand, looks carefree and stunning with coiled curls floating around her shoulders, a colorful summer dress with big sunflowers hugging her body.
If couples had a debutante ball, this would be ours. We have arrived, bitches.
Over the last four months, we’ve taken all kinds of strides. Jessie attended my grandmother’s funeral with me and my family. It’s hard to explain but I needed her there, not because she knew Nai Nai but because she could support me. I’ll admit it was a little tense at first. My mother was in her full tiger mom glory, but it was easy enough to shut that shit down simply by telling her that if she didn’t accept Jessie then she couldn’t be around me. And what do you know, I mean more to my mom than the senseless dislike she’s holding toward Jessica.
Contrary to my initial thoughts, my friends were all on board. I thought there was going to be a lot more drama. Hell, even the douche lord, also known as her brother, has been decent. I don’t know that I’ll ever like the guy, but for Jessie’s and Sin’s sake I tolerate him fine.
We pull up to one of the oldest Catholic churches in the valley. The parking lot is barely large enough to contain the eight or so vehicles already parked.
“Right there, right there,” Jessie yells, scaring the bejesus out of me.
“Fuck, Jessie.” I rub my ear and pull into the spot.
Her laughter tinkles happy and joyous through the truck. “I didn’t want you to miss it.”
“Mission accomplished. Now tell me what I need to do. I’ve never been to a Catholic church before. Every time I picture it, I keep imagining a scene from The Exorcist.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“You better believe it, lady.” I lean over the center console and brush a quick kiss against her mouth, and then I do it again just because I can.
“All we have to do is stand there. The priest will take care of the rest.”
“They have to be insane, right? Or is this a practice run?”
“Apparently, but don’t worry. You’ll have backup. Adam is super responsible, and so is Miles. Just for the record, though, I’m the only godmother.
My hand moves to the barely-there belly she’s been hiding for the last month. We decided to wait until Jessie moved fully into the second trimester before we share the news. It wasn’t the plan, but I can’t pretend to be anything but ecstatic. I mean, from the first time I met her she was going to change my life, and she has—irrevocably.
Sometimes you have to take the leap and when it comes to Jessica Johnson, I’m all in.
The End
What happens in Vegas needs to stay there, and live there,
and never see the light of day there.
Keep reading for a glimpse at the books that started it all.
Exquisitely Broken is the story of Jake and Sin, A sexy second-chance romance that will pull on your heart strings and make you remember that every decision counts!
Exquisitely Hidden is the journey of Adam and Seth,
A secret romance that
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Preview of Exquisitely Broken:
Book 1 Sin City Series
“Maybe we’ll meet again, when we’re slightly older and our minds less
hectic, and I’ll be right for you, and you’ll be right for me. But right
now I am chaos to your thoughts, and you are poison to my heart.”
—Unknown
For the imperfect lovers that believe in perfect love.
Chapter 1
Jake
Now
I GLANCE DOWN AT MY TAG Heuer watch just to make sure the second hand is still moving. These meetings are long, tedious, and a waste of my time. As chief financial officer of The Hotel, a newer casino on the Las Vegas Strip, my job is to oversee every account, secure funding for every project, and sign my name on the dotted line to make sure hundreds of employees are paid on time, every time.
Sitting in a meeting about the changes the beverage managers want to make regarding how they contact the extra board cocktail servers for a shift is not really my thing. Will the change improve customer service without increasing costs? Then do it.
I glance up at Dave, the director of the food and beverage department, as he collects his notes and steps down from the podium to make room for Aaron from marketing. As soon as Aaron opens his mouth, my already frayed nerves rip to the seam. He’s animated and excited over minutia like an annoying cheerleader from high school still cheering when the team is losing by fifty points. No one is that happy at nine in the morning. Correction, only Aaron Martinez is that happy at nine in the morning. Maybe he wakes up seeing butterflies and rainbows.
I fight the urge to roll my eyes as I glance at my watch again. This is going to be a long meeting. We’re not even halfway done, and I already know I’m not making it through the whole thing. Connor Rappaport, my business partner and the CEO, requires all members of the executive team to attend quarterly meetings on the casino’s goals and progress, but here’s the thing: It’s hard to fire the money man. Finding money, spending money and, more importantly, making money for this casino is what I do.
I learned from my father who learned from his father who learned from his father. My family moved to Nevada when Las Vegas Boulevard was still a two-lane dirt road in the middle of nowhere. My great grandfather got his first casino in a winning hand of poker and the second casino came as a pat on the head from the mafia outfit that was running Las Vegas at the time. Elijah Johnson was a hard drinker, a womanizer, a degenerate gambler but he was also a mathematical savant with a business acumen for gaming that multiplied my family’s wealth and influence tenfold. In Las Vegas, the last name Johnson is nowhere near common. It is a gaming empire. A legacy that every man in my family has upheld. A legacy that is unparalleled by any other gaming family. The Johnson men are not just shrewd in business, but we have a reputation for finding water when the well has run dry.
When Connor first approached me about opening an independent casino, I thought he was joking. Individuals almost never open casinos anymore. Contrary to its reputation, Las Vegas is no longer the Mafia’s washing machine for dirty money or the hardcore gambler’s playground. Vegas reinvented itself as a luxurious destination for playboy millionaires and socialites. Thank you, Kim Kardashian and Paris Hilton. Their type of celebrity helped kick off a new era, a changing of the guard if you will.<
br />
Connor was poised to take the reins. If my family are the rainmakers in casinos, then his family are the brains. Connor’s father had the insight to bring big corporations to Las Vegas. Avery Rappaport is the leader of the pack. He sets the pace and dares everyone else to keep up. Conner, although he doesn’t want to admit it, is the same. He’s strategic and intelligent, always ten steps ahead of his competitors. He has a big enough ego to demand a spot at the table and enough self- confidence to own it. When his father began the process of retirement, Connor was the only one capable of filling his Allen Edmond Oxford loafers. He quickly claimed a spot on the ‘Executives to Watch’ list in the local media and that was before he had the idea to open a new casino. Connor needed a little help to bring that idea to fruition and that’s where I came in.
The first thing that any start-up needs is money. The capital needed to start a casino is astronomical. Even the most daring venture capitalists are leery about investing in a business that comes with the high degree of risk associated with gaming. That’s why most of the casinos on the Strip are publicly owned and traded. It’s easy to convince many investors to give a small amount versus getting a smaller number of investors to give large sums of money.
Connor personally invested fifty percent of our capital. Getting the other fifty took six months, give or take, and I worked my ass off for it. I tapped every connection my family had and some we didn’t. Many of the investments came as a personal favor to my father and others came with strings loose enough to give us room to hang ourselves because a favor owed to you by the Johnsons and Rappaports in this town is better than money in the bank.
Second, we had to reinvent the wheel. Consumers are no longer interested in Steve Wynn’s Vegas. His world of themed casinos that depend on gimmicks to get people in the door are a trend of the past. They want the opulence of the Waldorf combined with the nostalgia of slot machines and poker rooms. They want great food and the chance to be very important in an environment where anyone willing to spend money is important. Now people come to Vegas for the experience. A chance to say they walked on the same street where they filmed The Hangover, or they threw dice at the table where Bugsy Siegel lost his bankroll. They want to sit in the showroom that hosted acts like the Rat Pack and Elvis and have a chance to play on the golf course where notorious mobsters outsmarted the FBI.
Exquisitely Yours: A Sin City Tale Page 25
