Page 19 of Menace in Vegas

My smile is wide. I’ve been called a lot of things, but never a goddamn terror.

And the way Connor says it, his voice dark and rumbly, sets a smattering of goosebumps over my skin.

Calm down, hormones on parade. This is all fun and games.

I sigh happily.

"This is much better than being on a plane.”

Connor says nothing.

Just grips the wheel like it’s the only thing stopping him from committing a felony.

His entire body radiates tension.

I glance at his lap.

His big, powerful thighs are spread wide, muscles flexed, while his fingers twitch over the gearshift.

He startles me when he grabs my thigh.

His grip is firm. Possessive.

My breath catches.

His fingers tighten slightly.

"Keep testing me, sweetheart,” he growls.

I swallow, my heart thudding hard in my chest.

His hand lingers on my skin — warm, rough, dangerous.

Then he pulls away like he didn’t just brand my skin with his touch.

Like he didn’t just set my entire body on fire and leave me gasping for more.

I blink, forcing myself to breathe.

I glance over at him.

For the first time since he started driving the Barbie car, he actually relaxes into the seat.

He knows he affected me.

I smirk, determination coursing through me.

He doesn’t stand a chance against me.

7

CONNOR

I’m barely holding on.

I’ve been humiliated.

I’ve been ticketed.

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