Page 2 of Vegas Baby

If anyone had told him Raina Ashton would hit on him, he’d have laughed in their face. The two of them were civil inside the boardroom and that was the extent of their interactions. Having sex with Raina would prove interesting, if nothing else.

The Elvis cover band started to play, the loudness drowning out the distinctive sound of the slot machines in the background.

Anaya and Veer rushed past them, heading to the dance floor.

“Oh, I love this song. You have to dance with me.” Raina stood, grabbed his hand, her fingers warm and persuasive while she tried to tug him off the chair.

Howler had forty pounds on her but she was strong and he had to give her props for being persistent. Giving in to the inevitable, he started to rise when she tripped on his foot and fell across him, all soft breasts and heated skin. He clasped her waist, the citrus smell of her perfume teasing his nose.

She straightened and pulled down the skirt of her dress. Walking backward, she crooked her finger. “Come on, Howler. You know you want to.”

Her sultry challenge cut through his last restraints and he followed her onto the dance floor. Not a smart move on his part, giving in to his rising lust, but what the hell. What happened in Vegas, stayed in Vegas, right?

What is that awful noise? Am I snoring?

Raina pushed through the thick fog of sleep and she opened her eyes to the glaring Vegas sunshine. Chest tight, her arms and legs were paralyzed by the harsh side effect of the sleeping pill she’d taken. She breathed the panic away until she could lift her pinky, and then her entire hand. Relaxing back into the pillow, she turned her head and sat bolt upright. She clutched the white sheet to her naked chest, head spinning.

She was naked.

In bed.

With a man.

Tall, dark haired, his broad back to her. Wide shoulders that tapered to a lean waist. The blanket rested low on his hips, the curve of his butt visible beneath the sheet.

Who the hell was this guy and how did he get in her room?

No, not her room at Miller’s Resort and Casino, the team owner’s hotel. This must be his room.

She willed herself to recall the events after she took the sleeping pill and before climbing into bed. Her mind remained blank. She had no clue why she was in a strange hotel room with a strange man. Blood pulsing in her ears, she scooted to the edge of the mattress. Dizziness washed over her in a wave at the motion, forcing her to lay her head down until she could regain her equilibrium.

Had this man kidnapped her and brought her here? Had he raped her?

If he had, why was she lying in bed beside her captor like some idiot? Get up, get dressed and get out of here. A quick search of the room revealed her strapless bra and underwear. His dress pants and white dress shirt lay piled next to the bed, along with a pair of boxer briefs. Draped over the office chair was a suit jacket and her large purse lay on the faux wooden desk. Where were the rest of her clothes?

She raised her head once more. The vertigo increased. She closed her eyes and willed it back. Did more than the sleeping pill drug her? Regardless of the reasons for her debilitation, she had to steal his shirt and escape. Pronto. Her stomach had other ideas.

A strong hand encircled her waist and she swallowed a rush of bile. She snapped her eyes open, heart in her throat. Late, she was too late. Caramel brown eyes heavy with sleep met hers, a sensual grin on his lips before he began to kiss the curve of her neck.

Howler.

Oh my God, she’d slept with Howler? A work colleague and even worse, her ex-boyfriend’s best friend. The blood pounded in her temples and her mouth felt as dry as the Sahara. She had to get out of here, to escape while she could.

And to shower.

“Stop.” She pushed at his shoulder, willing her nausea to leave. Perhaps she was overreacting. Or underreacting. She still had no clue why she was with Howler in a hotel room. Naked. With him kissing her like he had a right to. “What the hell is going on?”

“I thought it was obvious.” He said, his heavy torso pressing hers deeper into the mattress. She’d known him for years and he’d never done anything worse than bicker with her. And often. It was no secret to anyone they didn’t get along.

How did she end up in bed with him?

She pushed at his shoulder and tried to remain calm. If he didn’t let her up, she’d scream. They were in a hotel. Someone was bound to hear her. “No, it’s not obvious. What am I doing here with you?” she almost shouted the last bit, hysteria in every word.

He looked up; his heavy brow furrowed. Chocolate brown hair flopped over his forehead; his rugged jaw shadowed by a night’s growth of beard. She’d never seen him dressed in anything other than professional attire, clean shaven, with his hair perfectly styled. Naked and ruffled, he somehow seemed more daunting. Perhaps because he had the upper hand. Or did he? If she could only remember what happened. “You tell me. This was your idea.”

“What? No.” She shook her head and regretted it. Temples pounding, she cleared her throat. “Don’t lie to me. I went to my room after arriving in Vegas and went to bed. The next thing I know, I woke up here. Next to you.”

Raina rarely socialized with Howler since Sam broke up with her. Thus, there was no reason she should be there with him unless by force.

---