Beautiful Bombshell (6 page)

Max continued to watch me over the car door. “Why don’t you just come with us and we’ll stop on the way?”

“Not necessary,” I said, waving him off. “I’ll have to call it in and I don’t want anyone waiting on me. You guys go on ahead; I’ll pick up my prescription and meet you at the restaurant.”

“Fine by me,” Henry said, and climbed into the car.

“We can wait,” Will offered, though halfheartedly. It was clear everyone but Max was willing to let a man get some medicine for his damn ulcer.

“No, let him run along,” Max said with a smirk. “I’m guessing poor Ben actually has a case of the trots and is afraid he’s going to shit himself.” He turned back at me. “We’ll meet you at the restaurant.”

I glared. He was lucky I didn’t have time to argue. He was also lucky I didn’t have time to walk over there and punch his smug face. “I’ll meet you there.”

I waited just long enough for the car to pull away before I turned, searching for a cab. The one Chloe and Sara were in had just reached the streetlight, and if I hurried, I could still catch up. When a car pulled over, I climbed in, promising the cabbie a small fortune if he could get me wherever they were going, and fast. I hadn’t exactly worked out what I would do or how’d I’d get her alone, but I was operating on autopilot: get to Chloe, get her alone, get myself off.

My fiancée surprised me with a lap dance in a sex club and then I hopped in a cab for a car chase. My bachelor party in Vegas had officially begun.

Their cab stopped just down the Strip and I watched as they both climbed out. I paid my driver and stayed back, watching
for a moment as they talked, each of them pointing in a different direction—Sara at Planet Hollywood and Chloe at the Cosmopolitan. When they appeared to reach a decision, they nodded, kissing each other’s cheek before heading in opposite directions.

Fucking perfect.

Climbing out, I followed Chloe through the late-night crowds and into the building. The Cosmopolitan casino was dark and it took a moment for my eyes to adjust. Pinpoint colors, flashing lights, and the sound of electronic dings filled the air as I scanned the large room. I found her near the front of the casino, turning to climb a set of stairs.

Beads of sparkling crystals hung from the ceiling several stories up and curved around the giant staircase. From where I stood, it looked like Chloe was disappearing into a giant chandelier.

I followed, staying just far enough away to admire her ass as she moved, and wondering what exactly she was doing here. Was she meeting someone? Although she’d never mentioned any, maybe she had friends in Las Vegas. Or, perhaps she was simply waiting here for Sara to finish whatever she was doing across the street. My blood heated over the sheer
mystery
of Chloe; we lived together, worked together, and for all intents and purposes our lives were completely intertwined. But I relished knowing that she would always keep me guessing. Because of her wild independence, I would never know absolutely everything in her mind.
Even when she was entirely
mine,
she would always be a challenge.

As we neared the third floor of the spiraling club, her destination grew no clearer to me, and the wickedness of her little game started to bloom into an ache in my abdomen. I gave in, hungry to fall into the familiar routine of chastising her, and then having my way with her body. In only a few long strides I was there, wrapping my hand around her upper arm.

“You are in so much trouble,” I growled into her hair.

I felt her stiffen for a moment before going lax, the tension slipping from her body as she leaned back against my chest.

“I wondered how long it would take you to find me.”

“
You
,” I said as we continued climbing the spiraling staircase, “have done enough talking for tonight.” We were fully inside the glimmering, beaded curtains now, and they seemed to wrap all around us, twinkling in the soft light. “It’s time for you to keep that pretty little mouth closed . . . unless I have need for it.”

We reached the third story, where a rather impressive bar was situated, the shelves lined in jewel-colored bottles and draped in even more of the sparkling gems. Continuing on, I led us to a darkened corner. Smiling, I noticed the sign above a door tucked into the corner: I needed to be alone with Chloe on my terms and, quite frankly, we’d always been pretty great in restrooms.

An older gentleman with dyed black hair looked up in surprise as we entered the men’s room. I reached out to shake his hand, and pressed a folded bill into his palm.

“It’s so noisy out there,” I said, nodding in the direction of the casino and bar on the other side of the door. “Perhaps you’d be good enough to give us a few minutes to talk?”

He looked down at the money, his eyes widening, and then smiled back up at me. “‘Talk’?”

“Yes, sir.”

His gaze moved to Chloe. “That okay with you, miss? I might not look like much now, but back in my day I could drop a pretty boy like this before he knew what hit him.”

Beside me, Chloe laughed. “Something tells me you still could,” she said with a wink. “And trust me, I’m perfectly capable of dropping this pretty boy as well.”

“I don’t doubt that.” His smile widened, revealing a white, toothy grin. “You know,” he said, looking down at his watch, “I just realized it’s time I took my break.” He reached for a hat hanging on a hook and set it on his head, winking as he moved the
CLOSED FOR CLEANING
sign outside and in front of the door.

I watched her for a moment as the door shut behind him, then crossed the room to flip the lock.

Chloe lifted herself up to the wide marble counter and sat looking at me, long legs crossed in front of her. The room was luxurious, more of a sitting room with adjoining
stalls than a traditional bathroom. The floor was the same black and gold as the rest of the casino, with three wing-back chairs grouped against the far wall and a blue leather bench set between them. A huge, tinkling chandelier hung in the center of the room, painting the walls in specks of colored light.

“Am I in trouble?” she asked, eyes hopeful.

“A world of trouble.” I took a step toward her.

“This seems to be a reoccurring theme.”

“Doesn’t it?”

“Are you going to tell me what I did wrong?” She looked up at me with wide eyes and cheeks a mischievous pink. She was so fucking beautiful. “Should I have used my own hand instead?”

“Not funny.” My heart slammed beneath my ribs, and I grew drunk from the steady thrum of adrenaline as it slipped through my veins. Her gaze never wavered as I crossed the room to spread her legs and step between her thighs.

I trailed a finger down the smooth skin of her calf, wrapping a hand around her ankle. “These shoes don’t look very sensible,” I said, brushing a thumb over the soft leather.

She continued to watch me, lips red and slick and so fucking tempting. “Maybe I’m not feeling very sensible this weekend. Is that why I’m in trouble?”

“You’re in trouble because you’re impossible.”

She lifted her chin and met my eyes. “I learned from the best.”

I moved her foot to my hip and traced a path up her thigh and beneath her skirt. I clenched my jaw as a fresh wave of frustration swept through me over how she’d left me at the club, how proud she was for leaving me hard, and how ninety percent of our arguments could be boiled down to one of us trying to get a reaction out of the other. Seriously fucked-up situation we had going on here.

Still.

Gripping her ass with both hands, I ignored her sharp inhale as I jerked her to the edge of the counter.

“You—” She started to protest, but I stopped her, placing a finger against her mouth. She still smelled unfamiliar—floral, not citrus—but beneath the heavy makeup and new perfume there was something softer in her eyes, something inherently Chloe. She could play dress-up all she wanted, but the woman who was mine would always be there. The realization was like drowning, and I leaned forward, replacing my finger with my lips and quickly becoming lost in her little breaths and sounds as she moved eagerly into my touch. Her kiss felt like a drug seeping into my bloodstream, and I pushed my hand into her hair and tilted her head, wanting more than the soft flicks of tongue between our parted lips.

With my palm on her chest, I guided her to lie down onto the counter, moving her how I wanted and not being particularly gentle about it, either. But she went willingly, eyes widening in recognition of the game we were playing, mouth
soft and open. She leaned back on her elbows and looked up at me, waiting to see what I’d do next.

The gauzy material of her skirt felt like nothing in my hands as I slid it up her hips, exposing miles of leg and a different pair of satin panties beneath. I let my fingers press into her skin, wanting to hold her down and mark her up, hear her beg for what she wanted.

“I’m going to fuck you with my mouth,” I said, kneeling between her thighs and ghosting my lips over the thin material. “Fuck you with my tongue until you’re begging for my cock. Maybe I’ll give it to you.” I shrugged. “Maybe I won’t.”

She sucked in a short breath and reached for my hair, trying to pull me forward. “Don’t tease, Bennett,” she said.

I pushed her hands away, laughing as I looked up at her. “You don’t get to make any of the decisions tonight, Chloe. Not after your bullshit game in the club.” I breathed again where her legs parted, flicking my tongue over her clit until the fabric of her panties was thick with wetness. “You kissed me, let me taste your tits,
came on my hand,
and then left me there. Hard. That wasn’t very nice.”

“I . . . what?” she said, eyes unfocused as she watched me, a flush of color moving up her neck.

Leaning forward again, I pinned her hips to the counter, kissing and nipping at her through the thin satin until it was soaked. Her head fell back and she moaned, whispering my name into the silent room.

“Louder,” I said against her. “Let me hear you.”

“Take them off. Suck on me.”

The neediness in her voice sent a jolt of electricity through my body and I wrapped the thin straps in my hand and viciously ripped them, wanting them down and gone and nothing between her and my mouth.

She cried out, arching against me at the first touch of my tongue to her skin, her fingers digging into my hair and her voice ringing all around us.

The space was awkward but it didn’t matter, and was more than made up for when I looked to the side to find her watching our reflection in the mirror, teeth biting into her bottom lip. I met her eyes as I tasted her, sliding my tongue across and inside.

I added a finger, then two, and watched as they moved in her, wet with how much she wanted me. Her voice was nothing more than a breathy whisper and my name over and over as she asked for more and opened her legs wider, the heel of her sexy shoe scraping along the countertop. I could feel the heat of her all around me, the way she started to tremble as she got closer.

“Good?” I asked, making sure my voice vibrated against her.

She nodded, breathless, moving her hands above her head to push into her hair. “So good. Oh fuck, Bennett, so close.”

God it was torture, wanting to watch her lose control, but wanting to
feel
it, too,
needing
to feel her.

I tried to hide my desperation as I fit my hands to her hips and all but threw her to the bench, hovering above her to lick a line from her navel to the scrap of lace she called a bra. Sitting up, I unbuttoned the top of my shirt, reached blindly for my belt, and undid my pants. I freed my cock and almost gasped as she swatted my hand away and took me in her palm.

“No,” I said, flipping her over to her knees and stepping behind her. “You had your time to play earlier. This is mine.” I lifted her ass into the air, slapping it hard.

She gasped, turning around to look at me.

I gave her a dark smile, running my hand over her skin, soothing. “Do you want me to stop?”

Her eyes narrowed into a glare.

“You are welcome to stop me anytime,” I murmured. “I’m sure this is absolute torture for you.”

I brushed the tip of my cock through her wetness and down to her clit, circling, teasing.

“You’re an asshole,” she managed finally, and I brought my hand against her ass again, harder. But this time instead of surprise, she moaned, hoarse and hungry.

Then that was all there was: Chloe and the sounds she made, the way she asked me to push inside, to fuck her. And when I did, and smacked her ass again, she pleaded for
harder
and
more
.

But even when I took what I wanted it wasn’t enough; it never would be. I could feel the weight of it somewhere
deep in my stomach—the absolute love I felt for her, the constant need to touch and feel and take, to mark her from the inside out.

I twisted my fingers in the material of her shirt, pulled it lower so I could see her breasts move as I fucked her. Her hair fell across her back and I ran my hands under it, feeling the cool strands against my skin. I watched as I slid in and out of her, the way she pushed back against me, her skirt bunched up over her pink ass and around her hips.

“I miss this,” I said, covering the mark I’d made, pressing down on it. “All the time.”

She nodded, said my name. I could hear the frustration in her voice as she reached for something to hold on to, her other hand moving down between her legs.

“That’s right,” I said, watching her touch herself. “Get there. Make yourself come.”

It must have been what she needed because she cried out, spine arching as she pushed back against me. I was close, could barely think and so fucking hungry for it I could hardly breathe. My legs burned, muscles protesting as I thrust into her over and over. The legs of the bench scraped against the stone floor; the leather creaked beneath us.

“Bennett. Fuck,
Bennett
,” she said, and heat pooled low in my stomach, building and building until it was pulsing through me, my vision going dark and fuzzy around the edges as I came.