Calling Her Bluff (What Happens in Vegas) (6 page)

BOOK: Calling Her Bluff (What Happens in Vegas)
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His lips were soft but persistent, his tongue doing things in her mouth that made her body hungry for so much more. Then his hands came up and framed her cheeks. His hands were large enough to cup her entire face. He kissed her tenderly, gently, with so much affection it made entirely different emotions boil up from deep within.

In the end, he backed away. He stepped back and let out a deep breath. “Get dressed, Kamaria.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m competitive by nature. You don’t get to win that easily.”

“But…”

“You have no problem putting everything on the line for some cards.” Her robe had fallen open again. Jack pulled the two lapels together. “Why won’t you take that same risk with me?”

“Careful, Jack, this is supposed to be sex only. Why not take advantage of the situation? Most men would.”

One side of his handsome mouth curved upward. “Now we both know I’m not like most men.”

“We agreed no emotions involved.”

“Ah, yes, your rules. For a game neither of us truly intended to play.” He knelt down, deftly retrieved her pouch of hair products and handed it up to her. “Just let me know when you’re finished in here.”

The door slammed shut behind him. Kamaria’s knees gave out, causing her to slide down the wall until she sat on the cool tile floor. Her hands trembled, not from cold, but from fear. He was beginning to nudge his way into her heart. She needed to get a grip. If she couldn’t stop herself from falling for Jack, would she ever be in control of anything again?
Focus on the little things. The things you can control.

With more focus than was probably necessary, she took another breath. She needed to call Chastity and let her know that this crazy plan wasn’t going to work. But first, Kamaria had to re-twist her hair. Something simple. A task within her control.

She made a big noisy show of opening the door to the bedroom and letting it slam shut. “It’s all yours,” she called out. Jack’s lack of a response made her unintended innuendo hang that much louder in the silence. He was right, as badly as she was tempted to gamble again, that was the lesser of temptations. And if he nudged again, she really would be all his.

Chapter Six

I
t’s all yours…

Jack shook his head. She was playing with him again. And damned if he didn’t like it. He picked up his overnight bag. If she was still in the bathroom this time, all bets were off. It was already taking the patience of Job for him to maintain any semblance of control around her.

He pushed the bathroom door open. The room was empty. Thank goodness. He needed time alone to get his mind right.

The moment he closed the door behind him, the solitude he had hoped to have was gone. Her scent still hung heavy in the air. It was a combination of a sweet, flowery smell and peppermint. It invaded his nostrils. Caressed his senses. His entire body reacted to the assault. His hand slid from his belly down to beneath his waistband. He started to stroke himself but stopped. No. What was he doing? He was a grown ass man.

Damn. Never before had any woman so completely invaded his life. Or so quickly.

He made quick work of stripping and jumping into the shower. A decidedly lukewarm shower. He put his forehead against the cool tiles. But his raging hard-on wouldn’t die. He ran through the most non-sexual mental images he could think of. The check he wrote for his baby sister’s last college tuition bill. His mama nagging him about the tuition bill even though he already paid it. His Nonna’s nasty afterschool sandwiches.

Remembering those sandwiches did the trick. He felt himself begin to soften. He grabbed the closest washcloth and mopped his face. Bad move. Kamaria’s scent assaulted him all over again. She’d washed herself with this soft cloth. His imagination flooded with images of all the places that washcloth had been. Twisted between her fingers. Spreading suds up the valley of her thighs. Around her belly. Circling her breasts. Everywhere his hands could have been just moments ago. Jack groaned. He was hard all over again.

He was in no mood to fight it any further. With a soap-slicked hand, he fisted himself. He grunted with every pull. When he came, he bit his forearm to muffle his moan. God, he hoped she couldn’t hear him through the wall.

T
hree hours later, Kamaria lay in bed wide awake. Each soap-slicked slapping sound Jack had made during his shower replayed in her mind. The telltale moan that had accompanied his release. Her hand had been jammed against her core ever since. It should have been her hands pleasuring him. Her mouth receiving his release. No-strings-attached sex for the rest of the week shouldn’t have been this complicated. Why was he being so stubborn?

On the other side of the French doors, she could hear Jack trying to get comfortable on the loveseat. The fact that a man his size would entertain the thought of sleeping on that thing was ridiculous. However, he had tried the floor first, but that wound up aggravating an old back injury. Now, his flopping around was keeping her awake. Each toss and each turn made her ultra-aware of his nearness. Each frustrated sigh reminded her of how he growled when he kissed her. And of how much she wanted him to kiss her again. Her mind went back to those damn rules. Liking his kisses was not the same as liking him, as he said,
like that.

She had no problem using him again for sex. He’d already given her the green light for that. But that kiss… It had changed everything. Clearly, both of their emotions had ignited it. He knew that her emotions were already on the table. That’s why Jack had issued her that challenge: admit she liked him and he gets two more days with her. No, sir. Why would he even say that to her? Come Sunday, she was outta there. That was a challenge she would not let him win.

But now, her need for competition had been stoked. She needed to play in some shape or form. If Jack wasn’t game, then she should just go back to the casino.

No. She flopped onto her stomach and cradled a pillow between her arms. She kicked her feet against the mattress. She tossed herself onto her back and then she drummed her fingers against her chest. The tightness from earlier began to return. The bed was too big, too empty. Taking the California-king suite had been Chastity’s idea, not hers. Chastity was used to this luxurious shit. Whereas she had spent the last three years learning again how to live without it.

The urge had never been so strong to play a hand. Just one hand. She thought about the fifty dollar bill she hid in her wallet for “emergencies.” Didn’t everything about her situation scream “EMERGENCY”? That bill surely was enough to be dealt into a decent round. Just once. This morning, she’d been able to get up. In fact, she’d been about to leave the table before Mr. Perfect swept in. Stopping hadn’t been a problem then. It wouldn’t be a problem now. As long as she didn’t get caught.

She was back on day one anyway. She had nothing to lose.

Jack’s breathing had become more even, more relaxed in the last few minutes. Kamaria sat up. She should go now while Jack slept. He wouldn’t even notice…

What happens in the dark always comes to light.
Her grandmother’s words rang clear in her mind. She felt a guilty lump form in the pit of her stomach. Jack would never look at her the same if he caught her back in the casino. The way he’d looked at her when he told her she was brave, that made her feel like she could fly. Did he really want to fly with her?

That’s it. She didn’t want to think anymore. She wanted her mind to clear, to be on auto-pilot. Gambling did that for her. One last hand would quiet her mind. Get her into the zone. She could prove to herself once and for all that she could start
and
stop playing on her own. She swung her legs from under the covers and onto the floor. She began creeping through the dark, only to wind up fumbling and making more noise than necessary.

“What are you doing?” She froze. Jack’s voice made her heart leap into her throat.

“Nothing,” she croaked. Dammit. Could she sound any guiltier?

She heard him flail either his arms or legs from under the covers. A muffled thud. There was another thud followed by a curse. It sounded like it had been one of his limbs connecting with the coffee table. Finally, Jack flicked on the light in the living room.

She jumped back onto the bed. He yanked open the door to the bedroom. She was too slow in throwing the comforter over her body. There was no way Jack hadn’t seen her jean-clad leg and sneaker-covered foot.

Jack, in all his rippled, shirtless, and red-boxer-brief-clad glory, stood over her with one eyebrow raised. “Going somewhere?”

The guilty lump in her stomach lurched. The weight of his judgment made her lungs constrict. She gulped. “Well, if you were in bed with me instead of trying to sleep on that ridiculous loveseat, I would be too distracted to go anywhere…”

Jack held up a hand, cutting her off. “Nice try. Face it, you’ve been a bad girl. Time to face the consequences.”

Wait, did he just go alpha on her? Kamaria closed her eyes and counted to three before opening them again. Nope, her girl parts were still pulsing with desire. And really, wasn’t this what she’d wanted from the start? For him to take charge. To make the decision for her so she didn’t have to think or face the emotions she wasn’t ready to feel…

“The only reason you would try to leave is so you can go downstairs and gamble. Well, that ain’t gonna happen, sister. Not on my watch.”

Jack turned his back to her. He went back toward his makeshift bed and started digging through his overnight bag. This gave her an unhindered view of his very perfect ass. Two round globes encased in his underwear that made her palms itch to grab him.
He’s not a globe, Kamaria. He’s a man. A man with feelings…

“I’m guessing you have an itch that needs some serious scratching…”

He turned around. She felt her eyes widen.
He’s a man with an incredible hard-on. For you.

Jack dangled a pair of handcuffs from his fingers. She scrambled back against the headboard. “Jack, don’t you think that’s a bit drastic? Okay, fine. I’m in the middle of fighting the urge to go downstairs again. You want to punish me for trying to sneak out? Fine. You can sleep in the bed. With me. We can even fool around—’cause we both know we’ve wanted to since the minute we walked into this suite. I can’t sneak out if you’re lying here beside me. I get it. But, that won’t get me to admit that I like you. Because I don’t. Like you. In that way.”

Nothing she said hindered his approach.

“This isn’t about you admitting you like me, or me liking you.” He took one of her wrists and cuffed it to the headboard. “This is about you needing help and me helping you. And just so we’re clear, Kamaria, you may be ready for no-strings sex, but I want something more.”

He gently cuffed the other wrist. She tugged at her binds. One of her hands slid out easily. He gently bound her again, watching her the whole time. Everything south of her belly button throbbed. “What are you going to do to me?”

He tossed a strip of condoms on the nightstand. She felt her bottom lip begin to quiver. Whatever it was he wanted from her, it had gone way past “just liking” him. But she wasn’t scared. She was…

Turned the hell on.

“Nothing.” He threw back the comforter, kneeling between her legs. He lowered himself onto his elbows, stretching his back in the process. This didn’t look like nothing to her. Every muscle in her shoulders went rigid. “…Much.”

“I was only kidding about going to the casino.”

“No, you weren’t.”

She watched him push himself back up. “Don’t I get credit for not leaving the room?”

“No, you don’t.” He reached for her foot. For once, she couldn’t read him.

“Well, then, now I’m really scared.”

“The only thing you’re scared of is the truth.” He untied her sneaker, wiggled it off and chucked it across the room. He did the same with her other foot.

“You’re not gonna get me to like you like this.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.” His hands hovered over the button on her jeans. “I’m going to pull off your pants. Don’t kick me.”

She scooted away as best she could. “Hold on, I gave you the green light earlier and you pushed me away. Now, you wanna do it while you have me tied up?” She wasn’t completely opposed to the idea, but what the hell? Maybe she should kick him.

“No, I’m putting you to bed.” Even though her legs were now in prime kicking position, Jack held his ground. “Unless, you want to sleep in your jeans.”

“Oh. But with handcuffs on?” She relaxed her knees. Their eyes met. As before, the connection between them flared. “Untie me. I can take them off myself.”

He half quirked an eyebrow. “Yeah, but what fun would that be?”

J
ack reached out again, making quick work of loosening her jeans. All the while, his eyes never left hers.

Her zipper opened with a flick. She lifted her hips and smiled, goading him. He swallowed. What was he doing? He had intended to tie her up and leave her there to teach her a lesson. But his newly discovered impulsive side urged him on to do more. So did her eyes.

The “old” him had always opted to do “the right thing.” Tonight, it was time to go with the flow. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

He shifted his weight to ease the ache straining the elastic limits of his boxer briefs. He stalked toward her on his hands and knees, like a panther hovering over his prey. His hand palmed her behind before slowly peeling away the form-fitting denim. What he found beneath made him swear.

She wasn’t wearing any panties.

He, in turn, surprised her with the most intimate of kisses. When Kamaria gasped, he grinned into her flesh.
That’s right, sweetheart. You only thought you were in control.

He kissed his way up to the tender flesh of her belly. “If at any time you want me to stop, say ‘liverwurst.’”

“What?” Kamaria’s eyes flew open.

“Our safe word.”

“Liverwurst has got to be the least sexy thing to say during foreplay.”

He hovered over her face, rubbing the very tip of his nose gently against hers. “That’s the idea. My Nonna would make me eat liverwurst sandwiches every day after school. I hate the stuff. Mentioning it is the quickest way to pull me out of the mood.”

“But when you think about it, deli meat looks kinda hot.” She stroked the outline of his cock with her toes. He grabbed her foot, carefully extending the line of her leg until it rested on his shoulder. His nose nuzzled her inner thigh.

“I think you’re hot.”

Jack sank onto his elbows and knees. He buried his face into her sweetness, transporting him from memories of a cold cut nightmare—and Jesus, only this woman could make him laugh one second and have him hotter than hell in the next—to the impossible heat and beauty that was Kamaria Wilson. Each time her hips swayed or pitched forward, he was right there with her. Never relenting in his pursuit of her pleasure. He knew she was close when she started to pant.

“Jack. You… I…” He inserted his fingers into the mix to finally take her over the edge. Her entire body tensed, and then she convulsed, her body tightening. She made the sweetest, sexiest sounds he’d ever heard when she came.

He knew she had returned to earth when she gasped, “Liv…wurst.”

He reached up to remove her hands from his cuffs. He had left them just loose enough for her to slip out with a gentle tug.

“Wait.” The single word stopped him. “I want you to leave them on.” Satisfaction warmed his belly. He could totally fall for this woman.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Everything about this was too right. There had to be a way to make this work between them past Sunday…

Still relishing his moment of glory, Jack rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. With her arms bound and body sprawled against the sheets like some exotic offering for his pleasure, she was the sexiest fucking thing he’d ever seen. He quickly slipped on a condom and slid deep into her heat.

“Faster. Please,” she begged. He grinned as he felt her back arch.

“No.” He continued to take his time despite feeling her clench and strain around his cock as he drove deep. “You’re still in trouble, naughty girl.”

“Please.” She nuzzled against his chest, one leg massaging up along the side of his body. If he’d freed her hands, he knew they would’ve wrapped around him and held him close. He shook his head in response as he continued his leisurely pace. One agonizing stroke at a time.

BOOK: Calling Her Bluff (What Happens in Vegas)
2.5Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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