Page 61 of All Bets Are Off

My breath came out in short rasps and everything inside of me seized when I saw her standing in front of me without a stitch of clothes on. I’d seen her naked before of course—she’d taught me a lesson I would never forget—but this was different. This time I would be able to touch her. This time I would be able to taste her. This time?—

“Hey, drooly.” Olivia snapped her fingers and jerked me out of my reverie. “Stop staring and start touching.”

My lips curved up. “Are you going to be this bossy the whole time?” I asked as I edged toward her.

“Yup.”

There were things we were going to have to deal with. What did this mean going forward? Was this a one-and-done thing? Was it more? These were all questions we should have tackled before we started pawing at each other.

It didn’t matter, though. We were both lost to the moment.

Would there be regrets? I hoped not, but it was likely. Would we even be able to make eye contact in the morning? I had no idea.

It was going to happen, though. Even if I wanted to call time on what we were doing—which I didn’t—there was no going back now.

Our relationship would be forever changed by this moment. I didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. I just knew, in this moment, I had never wanted anything more. It was time to take what I wanted, consequences be damned.

15

FIFTEEN

Iwasn’t in my bed when I woke the next morning.

I felt as if I’d gone through a tsunami—how much did I drink last night?—and I had to roll to orient myself.

I recognized Zach’s bedroom ceiling right away. It was ornate—tin accents that made it seem fancier than a standard hotel room—and yet it still felt welcoming even in the midst of all that ostentatious energy.

The previous night’s events came flooding back in a wave of scenes.

Zach and I grinding on each other on the dance floor. From the outside, it might have looked relatively innocent. It was twenty minutes of foreplay, though.

The hurried walk down the strip. Normally, I took the time to watch my surroundings—there were pickpockets and gropers everywhere—but my only thought had been Zach. Every gesture he made as we speed walked back to the Stone was imprinted on my brain.

Once in the casino he’d been friendly, even waving at people. His expression somehow said “it’s great to see you but try to stopus and die” though. Under different circumstances I might have giggled. In the moment, things had felt dire.

Once on the private elevator—thankfully nobody else from the upper three floors had been going up at the time—we’d stood on opposite sides staring at each other. It was almost a game, and neither of us could drag our eyes away from the other. The first who broke eye contact lost.

Nobody lost.

Then it had been a hurried walk—more like a jog—down the hallway. Zach already had his keycard in hand and was flashing it before I could register what was happening. Then he whisked me inside the room and … well … that was another flurry of images.

Wild eyes.

Wild hair.

Wandering hands.

Wandering tongues.

Our clothes were still in the living room—unless he’d gotten up to take care of them sometime in the late morning hours, which I doubted—and he’d carried me to his bedroom after the grinding and moaning right by the front door had gotten out of hand.

Once in his bedroom, I’d expected a filthy extravaganza, and it started that way. Somewhere around the third time, though, things had turned soft. The gasps weren’t needy as much as greedy. The sex wasn’t desperate as much as delightful.

We’d both been exhausted at some point. I didn’t even remember falling asleep. One minute I was in his arms, listening to his heart rate return to normal. The next I was dead to the world. It had all happened in a matter of hours and yet it felt as if it had taken years to come to fruition.

Next to me, Zach was shirtless. His hair was a wild mess from me running my fingers through it. His face was peacefulfor a change, however, as if he’d finally gotten the sleep he so desperately needed.

I propped myself on an elbow as I regarded him—he looked better shirtless than should’ve been legal under the law—and leaned in to get a better look at the fine lines at the corners of his eyes. So often, he looked troubled when he was awake, as if he had a million things on his mind. Now, though, he looked as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

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