Page 40 of Nothing Stays in Vegas

Vetta eyed the denim over his leg for any kind of irritation. There didn’t seem to be any insects. Maybe a flea?

“Vetta?” He patted again.

Her neck tightened. She brought her hand to her throat, feeling around it with the tips of her fingers.

Travis tilted his head. “What are you doing?”

“Feeling for a collar. Or some fur. There’s got to be something here if you think I’m going to come running because of a hand pat.” She gave him a glare that should melt steel. “Don’t confuse me with one of your Pavlovian lab monkeys. Especially not the redhead who couldn’t stop screaming.”

His brow creased. “Pamela?”

“Whatever!” Great. Now she had a name for her auditory trauma.

“Vetta.”

“What?” she all but growled, wishing she could get that woman out of her memory. Get all the women out. It wasn’t that she thought she had any real claim to him. Just that they were a testament to his need to be free. He never slept with women who mattered. Logically, it was smart to remind herself of that not-so-subtle fact.

For the first time in her life, she hated logic.

“Shut up and get your ass over here already.”

The moment didn’t last long. “Gee, when you put it that way… No.”

He looked as mutinous as she felt. They’d planned to have uncomplicated sex and from the second she saw him in the hall it had been anything but. Why wasn’t it uncomplicated?

Note number eighty-five: Men claim to be simple creatures, yet they manage to make everything simple into an argument.

“You’re forgetting the deal, Vetts. We’re supposed to be honest at all times. I’m supposed to tell you what I want, remember? What I want is for you to come over here and sit with me.”

“Oh, I remember. But you should remember that wanting and getting are completely separate things. One does not ensure the other.”

“Especially where you’re concerned,” he grumbled. She thought he muttered something that sounded like “twenty-two to seventeen”, but couldn’t be sure, since that made no sense at all. When she leaned forward suspiciously, his hand shot out and grabbed hers. A solid yank had her spinning into his lap in a sprawl.

She used her elbows to sit up, caring little when he shifted rapidly to avoid the hard points. “What lesson is this supposed to be? Never take no for an answer?”

He grinned. “Don’t be afraid to take what you want.” His hands began tugging on her lab coat. “I’ve got to get you to stop wearing so damn many clothes.”

The jacket came off, but he still had three sweatshirts and two T-shirts to get through. “Consider it my way of requesting foreplay.”

He stopped moving, narrowing one eye at her. “Is that supposed to be a dig at my technique?”

It was nice to be wanted so much a man that he was tearing to get at her. Plus he deserved it for dragging her into her current position. She lowered her lashes the way she’d seen her mother do countless times. “What technique would that be?”

“If you don’t watch it, it’ll be Paddleball.”

She grinned at him. His lap really was pretty comfortable. She wriggled closer to him.

Travis’s gaze turned accusing. “You’re enjoying this.”

”Didn’t you want me to?”

“I wanted you undressed first.” Should she tell him he was almost pouting?

Vetta leaned back and decided not to fill him in. Teasing was a lot more fun. She swung her feet on the other side of the chair arm a few times. “Who’s stopping you from undressing me?”

He tugged at her sweaters. “That would be you.”

“Haven’t you ever heard that saying, anything worth having is worth working for?”

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