Page 23 of Vegas Heat

Cooper wants to do it again. He makes me feel like he could spend the entire day in here with the sole purpose of making me come.

But I want to make him come, too.

I shift, and he gets the hint as he pulls his fingers out of me.

“I want to see you come again,” he murmurs. “It’s the most gorgeous vision I think I’ve ever witnessed.”

“Your turn first,” I pant. “Stand up.”

He does, and he places the showerhead back in its cradle. When he turns around, I don’t get up, but I do grab onto his thighs to pull him closer to me. I fist his cock and pump it a few times before I suck it into my mouth, and he reaches onto the wall over my head to brace himself as I suck and pump and lick.

He groans through his pleasure, and I pick up speed, wanting to give him the same type of bliss he gave me. “I’m close,” he warns, but I don’t care. I keep sucking, pulling him as far back as I can, and his thighs tremble as he starts to lose control.

The hot jet hits the back of my throat, and my automatic reflex is to swallow. A few more pulses hit the back of my throat,and I keep sucking, keep doing what I’m doing as he fights his way through an intense, brutal orgasm.

When the pulses slow, he pulls out of my mouth and collapses on the bench beside me. He tosses an arm around me, and I settle into his side, the perfect placement as our bodies just seem to fit together, like we were each missing a piece of ourselves until we found each other. We both sit in quiet bliss as the water streams down in front of us, and eventually he stands and shuts off the water.

He silently exits the shower and grabs a towel, wrapping it around his waist, and he steps back in with a second towel. Instead of handing it to me, he starts to dry me off. Something about it is intimate and sweet. We’re both quietly lost in our thoughts, quietly lost in the afterglow, quietly lost in each other.

He pulls me to a stand and wraps the towel around me, and I grab another one to towel dry my hair while he finishes drying himself, too.

We comb our hair together in the bathroom, me fighting through the tangles while he makes quick work of his hair. I put a little make-up on, and we each get dressed, both of us comfortably quiet as we work through our individual routines together.

Once we’re ready, his gaze lifts to mine. His eyes look a little tormented—something I haven’t seen from him in the short time I’ve known him, a reminder that we have a long way to go. “When can I see you again?” His voice is low, and I’m not sure how to lighten the sudden somber mood in here.

My chest warms as I think about the fact that he wants to see me again, and it tightens at the same time as I think about how this blissful time with him will inevitably come to an end. “Depends on when you’re back in town.”

He presses his lips together, slinging one arm around me as he crushes my body to his. “That’s not good enough.”

I’m not sure what to say. My instinct is to tell him to stay, but I worry that’ll just show my age. He has responsibilities. I’m not even sure if he has the ability to just pack up and move to Vegas with the snap of a finger.

But I want him to.

“Then stay,” I finally say because it’s the only choice I have. Fuck naivety. Fuck my age. All that matters is how we’re both feeling right now, and the desperation in his tone is the exact same thing I’m feeling down to my core. “Take the job, whatever it is, so we can see if this powerful thing between us is as big as we feel like it is.”

He drops a soft kiss to my lips rather than responding, and when he pulls back, he heaves out a heavy sigh. “Let’s go get you a daiquiri.”

I blow out a breath, too, and then I slide my hand into his and follow him down to the Strip.

CHAPTER 11: COOPER

I order her a strawberry daiquiri and I get myself a half-pina colada, half-strawberry daiquiri mix. It’s quite a delight, if I’m being honest, and I keep my ballcap pulled down low over my eyes. Between that and the sunglasses mixed with the amount of day drinkers here on the Strip, nobody notices that Cooper Noah is strolling down the sidewalk hand-in-hand with a gorgeous woman twelve years his junior.

I was hit with a blast of reality when I asked her when I could see her again.

This is real, but we’re providing an awful lot of fodder for the media—particularly if I take the offer on the table from Troy. I’ll be thrust front and center back into the tabloids, and if we take this thing beyond this weekend, she’ll be thrust there, too.

At some point I have to tell her who I am…but I sort of like the dynamic between us just the way it is. Once people find out, they change—and I don’t want this to change.

We walk with our drinks down to the Bellagio, where we watch the fountains. We step inside to play some slots. We even manage a romantic trip to the top of the Eiffel Tower, where we kiss as we look down over Vegas and I tell her how I want to take her to the real one in Paris someday.

We ride the giant Ferris Wheel, which is neat during the day but would be spectacular at night, and I note how she attacks every new activity with excitement and a positive attitude. The line for the Ferris Wheel was longer than we’d been expecting, and she spent the time waiting by grilling me withthisorthat, allowing us to get to know one another on another new level.

I discover she prefers pizza over pasta, tacos over spaghetti, and pancakes over waffles. She learns that I like trucks over sports cars, outdoor activities over indoor—sex included, and bars over nightclubs.

We wind up back at the hotel a little before it’s time for me to meet Kaylee and Ben.

I think about asking if she wants to tag along as my date, but I realize I could use the opportunity away from her to talk to some of the people who know me well and to see if it’s all just the illusion of sex or if there are real feelings taking root after barely knowing her a full day.

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