Page 5 of The Billionaire's Gamble

I take a deep breath, looking up into his eyes. “Yes,” I say softly, surprising myself with the certainty in my voice. “I’d like that.”

*****

My heart thuds violently as he leads me to the private elevator that goes to the casino’s top floors of exclusive suites. I realize I've never done something like this. I’m not one to be spontaneous and I usually shy away from intimacy. And yet, when Dean pulls me into his arms as we wait for the elevator, it feels natural. He feels natural.

The elevator doors slide open, and once we step inside, he pulls me into his arms and seals his mouth over mine. I close my eyes, melting into his embrace with a soft sigh of satisfaction.

Why does it feel so natural to be in his arms?

At first, my kiss is tentative, unsure. Then it grows hotter. His kiss is everything I've imagined and more. I've always dreamed about my first kiss, but this is beyond anything I could have fantasized about. I can taste the hint of whiskey on his lips, feel the heat of his body pressed against mine. I match his rhythm, my nervousness fading as desire takes over.

He smells like expensive cologne and sun and heat and liquor. His breath blends with mine so that I can't tell where his exhale ends and my inhale begins. Every sensation is packed with tingles and overwhelming sensations. My pulse is thrumming violently beneath my skin. I love it.

I had no idea that my soul could be set on fire like this with just a kiss.

Dean's hands move to cradle my face, his touch firm and reassuring. I slide my fingers into his hair, a soft moan escaping me as the kiss deepens. His tongue teases mine, sending sparks of electricity through my body. I've never felt this way before – so alive, so utterly consumed.

Our bodies press closer, the intensity of the kiss escalating. My hands slide down to his shoulders, feeling the taut muscles beneath his suit. He responds by pulling me even tighter against him, a low growl rumbling in his chest. The elevator feels like it’s spinning, the world outside forgotten.

The elevator dings, snapping us out of our heated embrace. Dean pulls back, his eyes dark with desire. He takes my hand, leading me down the hallway to his suite. My pulse races with anticipation, my breath coming in quick, shallow gasps.

Once inside, Dean shuts the door behind us, and the tension between us crackles like a live wire. He turns to me, his gaze smoldering. “Hannah,” he whispers, his voice thick with longing.

Before I can respond, he smashes his mouth against mine again. Hot. Wet. Insistent. He splays his fingers against the wall on either side of my head, the muscles of his shoulders trembling as though it required all his willpower to keep his hands on the walls and off my body. His mouth moves against mine, recklessly, desperately as he hungrily devours me, suckling mytongue and my lower lip, seizing my every breath and replacing it with his.

When he pulls back, I'm left gasping for air, my lips feeling swollen and bruised from the intensity of his kiss. My eyes flutter open to find Dean's burning into mine, his desire evident. Raw. His chest is heaving with a barely restrained passion.

“You drive me crazy, Honey,” he mutters, his gaze sliding down to my lips and back up to my eyes. “And the night has barely started.”

I look away from him, suddenly overwhelmed by everything he makes me feel… it's all so new to me yet so intensely familiar. My heart feels like it's going to burst at any moment, my skin tingling from where his hands have been. I've never felt such an exhilarating yet terrifying rush of emotions.

I look around the room, in a bid to distract myself but then I notice the stellar view out the floor-to-ceiling windows in the suite. My breath catches as I rush to the window and take in the breathtaking sight of the Las Vegas strip. It’s a kaleidoscope of colors and lights that seem to dance in the night air. I can see the Bellagio fountains shooting into the air, the drops of water glistening like diamonds as they fall. The replica Eiffel Tower stand tall, its iron latticework gleaming in the darkness. Everywhere I can see, neon signs flash showing all that this magical city has to offer.

It seems like the world is just outside his window, so close yet out of reach…like Dean, in a sense.

Dean comes up behind me, his chest brushing against my back in a way that makes me forget to breathe.

I look up at him, my eyes wide with wonder. “I’ve never seen anything like this before,” I say, my voice filled with awe. “It's beautiful.”

He’s staring at me, his expression mirroring my own amazement. “You're right. I guess I've taken this view for granted so much that I've forgotten how stunning it is,” he admits, his tone thoughtful. “Seeing it through your eyes… It's like I’m seeing it for the first time. It's one of the reasons I chose this location for The Lily.”

“You own this place?” I ask, my eyes growing wide with shock. Then I instantly feel stupid for asking; I mean, we're on the executive floor. No random person can access this place… I kind of guessed he's some kind of big shot but I never imagined he owns the place. It suddenly dawns on me how little I know next to nothing about him. Dean Sterling is practically a stager but why do I feel like I've known him all my life?

“Yes, I do,” he replies, never taking his eyes off me

“What else do I need to know about you, Mr. Sterling?” I ask, half joking.

Dean chuckles softly, the sound sending a pleasant shiver down my spine. “There’s plenty you’ll find out in time, Hannah. But for now, how about I show you something else?”

I nod, my curiosity piqued. He takes my hand, leading me across the suite to another set of windows, this one offering a different view of the city. The Vegas lights glitter below us like a sea of stars, and for a moment, I forget everything else.

“It’s breathtaking,” I whisper, my eyes taking in the expanse of the city. “I can see why you chose this place. I can't get enough of it.”

Dean stands behind me, places his hands on my shoulders, and gently turns me around to face him. His eyes search mine, and for a moment, we simply stand there, staring into each other's eyes.

He reaches out and brushes a strand of hair away from my face. "I can't get enough of you, Hannah." My heart skips a few vital beats at his words, my stomach tightening up in knots.

“Stay the night with me, Honey,” he murmurs, his voice a soft plea wrapped in velvet.

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