Page 13 of Nothing Stays in Vegas

Cal took a step forward, keeping his eyes focused on her mouth. “Yeah. Forget about Vegas. We had something these last weeks. I can’t ignore it. I don’t want to.”

Time turned sluggish as he leaned toward her. This was where she was supposed to put out her hand, say something to make him stop, but stopping was the last thing she wanted.

His arm slipped around her, pulling her gently against him. His lips grazed hers, softly sliding into a slow kiss that stole her breath. The hand at the small of her back splayed wide, roaming lower to the base of her spine. The other curved around the side of her neck into the curls she’d left loose. Winding his fingers through the mass, he pulled down, urging her head back, her mouth open.

A small mew escaped her as Cal’s tongue teased along the line of her lips and then into her mouth. Wet heat welled within her and even knowing what she was doing was a mistake, she opened wide to him, inviting him to taste her. Her hands settled at the sides of his T-shirt over the hard muscle and trim waist. With every thrust of his tongue, she gripped the fabric tighter in her fists.

Desire flooded her senses, spiraled through her core and pooled between her legs as she arched against him. Every inch of her body ached for more. Her leg bent as her inner knee stroked up the side of his calf, his thigh.

Cal pulled back. Lara followed him with her mouth, ready to climb his body to get closer, to have more. God he felt good against her. So right.

When he eased out of her reach, her eyes fluttered open to see him studying her face. His chest rose and fell in rapid succession, his midnight eyes sparked with passion and… surprise?

The way he looked at her made her feel like she couldn’t hide a thing. She wanted to turn away and run. To scream, “Don’t look—” but her mind and body were no longer her own.

Tugging at the T-shirt in her grasp she pulled him back towards her. The corner of his mouth turned up and, before she knew what happened, his lips were on her again, his body bowed forward with his hands at the backs of her thighs. And then she was off the floor, legs wrapped around his waist, arms around his neck.

His cock strained between them, long and hard, as he rocked her body against his groin, making her pussy throb with the need to be filled.

Wet, suctioning kisses moved over her neck and across her shoulders. Her thin robe fell away wit

h the light scrape of his stubbled jaw. Resting her on the counter, he pulled back, his eyes devouring her. Breath ragged, he ran his hands over her breasts, down to her belly and over her hips.

Pulling at the gauzy fabric of her tank, he half groaned, “Is this what you were wearing?”

The night on the internet. Her cheeks burned as she nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

He ran his fingertips through the valley between her breasts, feather soft, barely there. Under the curves and up to the peaks. His thumbs circled her nipples, squeezed them through the fabric, eliciting her tiny cry of pleasure.

“So soft.” His fingers trailed down her belly and over the tight cotton shorts. Pushing her legs apart, he grazed the seam between her legs with his thumb. His voice was thick, husky. “So wet.”

Lara pushed her legs open wider, a slave now to his touch.

Leaning into her again, he pulled her hips against him as he grazed the shell of her ear with his teeth, pulled at the skin beneath it with his lips.

“You feel so good, so right.” His voice was low, muffled against her skin. “How can this be so different?”

Different? What was she doing? It was different because he’d never kissed her before. It was their first time. And it had to be the last.

Biting into her lip, she pressed her hands against Cal’s chest and pushed back, squirming out of his hold and off the counter until she stood on the cold stone floor a foot away from him.

“Lara, no—” Cal’s expression was anguished, he reached out trying to take her hands but she wrapped her arms around her waist and shook her head.

“This isn’t right. I know what you want to think, Cal, but what happened in Vegas was real. We’d be fooling ourselves to think something better could come out of it.” Lara’s eyes brimmed with tears, her throat tightened. He deserved better than this half-lie, half-truth she was feeding him. But she didn’t have a choice. “I want to forget about Vegas, and that means forgetting about you. I’m sorry.”

Cal stared at her, hurt and disappointment painted thick across his face. He raked his fingers through his hair and, taking a step back, nodded once. “Okay, Lara. If that’s what you need, then…okay.”

Chapter Five

It was already nine when Cal dragged his ass out of bed, got showered and made his way downstairs. After his make-out session and subsequent dumping by Lara the night before, sleep hadn’t come easy. And, contrary to what he’d said in the kitchen, letting her go was not okay.

Their chemistry was too strong, their connection too intense—he couldn’t believe they were the same people who blew it so royally in Vegas. Granted, the hook up in Sin City was preceded by Cal’s consumption of alcohol in quantities that would have been deadly if not for the indelible base consumed at a three-dollar buffet around the corner from the hotel. Just the memory made him want to hug a toilet.

As far as he could tell, Lara had been throwing back the drinks just as fast. They’d both been bitter and resentful, coming off recent break-ups. Neither of them had given a crap about who the warm body they found was, and their time together reflected that. They were uncomfortable and awkward.

The kissing had been so bad they’d given it up completely after the first try. And the sex—he cringed thinking about the sex. Tell me I’m pretty, she’d demanded, bouncing painfully over his cock. Tell me I’m beautiful, every way you can think of, I want to hear how hot you think I am while I come. Tell me how fucking hot I am.

Maybe the guy who dumped her had done a number on her ego and her demands were simply in response to shaky self-esteem. Maybe. Whatever it was, it had been truly, horrifically bad stuff.

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