VEGAS follows you home (50 page)

Read VEGAS follows you home Online

Authors: Sadie Grubor

BOOK: VEGAS follows you home
13.79Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

 

Olivia

 

The ceremony is lovely and the reception is wonderful, but exhausting. After making rounds with Damon to meet his family and their close friends, dancing with Scarlett, then Hugh, Damon, Alex, and a couple other men in the Knyght family, I’m spent.

However, knowing we will leave together, just Damon and me, in his apartment for the weekend, alone, I fight the sleepiness hovering. And, for the most part, I've been successful. That is, until the largest yawn of my life stretched my jaw so far, it cracked. Damon immediately gathers our things, excuses us from the gathering, and puts me in the back of a waiting car.

Damon settles into the leather seat, instructs the driver, and turns to me.

"You should have told me how tired you are."

"I'm fine," I say through another yawn.

He chuckles, placing his arm on the back of the seat. His fingers stroke my hair.

"You look beautiful tonight. Did I tell you?"

Taking a deep breath, I hope to inhale the courage to be stronger than the beating of my heart and throbbing between my legs. With a turn of my head, I meet his eyes. His beautiful eyes.

"Yes," I breathe out the word, "you did. But thank you."

His fingers press deeper into my hair until he's massaging my scalp. My body instantly relaxes against the car seat.

"Will you sleep next to me tonight?" he asks so quietly, my super relaxed brain barely comprehends.

"It's not a good idea," I mumble.

"Please?" His lips are close to my ear.

"Too soon," I slightly slur.

"Tomorrow?" He presses his lips after his question.

"Hmmm," I murmur just before closing my eyes.

 

The bed is different. The blanket smells different. It's not bad, just different.

Stretching, the sheets caress my skin and I curl back into them, my eyes closed. A sigh of relaxation passes through my lips.

Shooting straight up in bed, I gasp. I pull the blanket and oh-so-soft sheet away from my body, looking down.

"How?" I ask an empty bedroom.

Looking around, the room feels bare and unlived in. I slip from the bed, my long nightshirt dropping to my knees. I rub my hands down the soft worn fabric and walk to the door.

I jump when there's a knock.

"Olivia?" Damon's voice is muffled.

The knob twists and I step back, allowing him to open the door.

"Olivia?"

He first looks to the bed before finding me standing on the other side of the door. His brow furrows.

"Are you okay?"

I nod.

"Yes, just a bit confused." I bite my lip, taking in the tight gray t-shirt covering his lean chest.

"About?"

"Is this your room?"

"No. This is one of the spare rooms."

"Oh." Licking my suddenly dry lips, I take in his messy bed hair.
When did I turn into such a horny person in the morning?

"You preferred the spare room, remember?"

"Yeah, no, I did. I was just curious." Nodding, I step toward my bag leaning against the far wall.

"Your clothes are in the closet."

Spinning, I change direction for the closet.

"Did you…" I clear my throat, "change my clothes last night?"

"Yes," he responds, a small twitch at the right corner of his mouth.

"Thank you." I pull the double doors open.

"How long do you need to get dressed?"

Looking over my shoulder, I furrow my brow in confusion.

"I'd like to take you out for breakfast and then to see the house." He leans against the doorframe.

"Oh, um, give me thirty?" I respond, but it sounds more like a question. "I'd like to wash out the hairspray and the make-up off my face."

Pulling out my heather brown, bias-cut, cashmere sweater and black leggings, I hold them against my chest.

"Is that okay?"

In three long strides, he stands before me.

"You take as long as you need."

His hands grasp my upper arms and he pulls me close, pressing his lips to my forehead.

"Just come out to the living room when you're ready."

Without another word, he exits, closing the door behind him.

 

I'm ready in less than thirty minutes, but I take my time blow-drying my hair. If eating wasn't becoming such an immediate need, I would procrastinate further. Being alone with Damon, nothing to distract the feelings he creates, is frightening.
How does someone fall for a stalker?

Fluffing my hair away from my face, I assess myself in the bathroom mirror over the sink. Taking a breath, I slip my riding boots on and head for the living room.

When I arrive, Damon is sitting on the couch, reading papers. He hears me enter and places the documents in file folders spread out on the coffee table. My eyes move from the folders to the plate of muffins and fruit.

"I thought you might need something to hold you over until breakfast."

He smiles, motioning to the plate.

At the sight and mention of food, nausea decides to appear.

"Thank you."

Walking forward, I take a banana to subdue my hunger.

"Would you like to take anything with you?"

Damon stands. I take in his full appearance and swallow hard.

"No," I shake my head, "I'm okay." I lift the half-eaten banana back to my mouth.

"Let's get going then."

Putting his cell to his ear, he turns to walk away. My eyes focus on the perfect fit of his dark pants. Shaking away my lustful thoughts, I follow closely behind, collecting my purse and coat.

Exiting the elevator, we're greeted by a doorman.

"Mr. Knyght." He nods, hurrying around the desk to open the door. "The car is second in line, sir."

"Thank you." Damon guides me through the door by the small of my back.

"Oh, sir." Damon and I both pause just outside the door.

"Yes?"

"A delivery from Frame Gallery arrived yesterday afternoon while you were out. They are in the safe room. Would you like for us to put them in your apartment, or hold them?"

"If you could put them just inside the entryway, I would appreciate it."

"Of course, sir. I just need you to sign something." The doorman rushes to his desk and brings back a clipboard. "If you would just sign here, giving permission for building maintenance to deliver inside your apartment."

Damon takes the offered pen and signs the release.

"Thank you, sir. Have a wonderful morning."

"Thank you." Damon hands back the pen.

"Have a good day, too." I give the doorman a small wave.

Holding my coat tight against me, I allow Damon to guide me to the awaiting black car. Once inside, Damon gives the driver instructions to take us to Market Square.

"Where are we going?" I ask, tilting my head and looking up at him.

"I'm not sure." He turns his head, looking down. "You're the local. I figured you could show me around downtown."

He grins and I smile.

 

After breakfast at Bruegger's Bagels, we walk Market Square and take in the history of the buildings. In the afternoon, we travel over to Station Square, taking in the historical railroad sites.

"I have an idea."

Taking his hand, I don't miss the way he rubs his thumb over my skin. The action keeps me warm as we walk through the chilled air.

"Where are we going?" I don't have to look to know he's smiling.

"The incline is a necessary visit."

We arrive to entrance
A
of Station Square and I pull him along until we are standing inside the lower station of the incline. The attendant gives a brief history of the incline as we wait.

There are more people than I thought in our group, so we are packed tightly inside the car. My left side presses against Damon's right. Lifting his arm, he puts it around me. I stiffen for a moment before settling against him and enjoying the dramatic sights of the city.

At the top, and back out in the cold air, I drag him to the Mt. Washington Observation Deck closest to us. We stand against the railing, looking over the city.

"This is amazing." His arm winds around me.

"It's beautiful." Instinctively, I drop my head against him.

"Thank you." He rests his cheek against the top of my head.

"For what?"

I try to pull back so I can look up, but he holds me against him snuggly.

"For trying, Olivia."

I swallow the emotion and urge to kiss him.

"We should get to the house before it gets too late."

He squeezes me one last time before releasing me.

My body protests the loss of his presence. I lie, telling myself it's just his body heat I miss.

"Okay."

Our journey back to the car is quiet, except for some questions Damon has about the city.

Back in the car, I realize just how tired my body is from walking and exploring parts of the city. I'm so tired, I drift to sleep, only waking when we stop in front of a newly built home.

"We're here." Damon brushes the hair away from my face, which is pressed to his shoulder.

"Sorry," I yawn the apology and sit up.

His fingers come to my chin and pull so I look at him.

"Never apologize for leaning on me, Olivia." His eyes search mine before dropping to my mouth.

The door opens and the cold air cuts through the lusty tension.

 

We enter the house and my breath leaves me. The foyer is open with a staircase leading to a small landing and hallways I believe would take me to bedrooms. From the foyer, I walk straight into an open kitchen, dinette area that could fit a twelve-person table and an oversized family room with a fireplace. The space is massive, open, and beautiful. Not to mention, the formal dining and living rooms. There is a full size laundry room off the kitchen, a two-car garage, full attic, four bedrooms, and four bathrooms. The master suite bathroom contains a large bathtub with jets, two-sink vanity, large windows for natural lighting, and a shower four people could fit inside. Then, there are the showerheads — one on the ceiling and three down each side. It's like a human car wash. A car wash I would sell my soul to enter.

"This is amazing."

I turn, finding Damon standing in the bathroom doorway, arms over his chest, leaning against the doorframe.

"I'm glad you like it."

Pushing off the door, he saunters up, takes my face in his hands, and kisses me. It's not chaste, but it certainly isn't long. It's just enough to flare lusty desires to life. He pulls his mouth away and I sway forward.

"Would you help me make some color and design decisions?"

His thumbs brush over my cheeks.

"Please?" His eyes focus on my mouth when I lick my lips.

"That's not fair," I breathe.

"What?" He grins.

"Softening me with kisses before asking things of me."

His grin grows.

"Probably not, but I don't play fair."

"No, you don't." I close my eyes, inhaling and exhaling deeply in an attempt to cleanse away the lust.

"Will you?"

His thumb moves to my bottom lip. I press my lips tight, so not to lick.

I nod, afraid to open my mouth and release my tongue.

 

Other books

Driving Mr. Dead by Harper, Molly
The Incomparable Atuk by Mordecai Richler
La Maestra de la Laguna by Gloria V. Casañas
Charleston by John Jakes
We Five by Mark Dunn
Last Chance to See by Douglas Adams, Mark Carwardine
The Low Sodium Cookbook by Shasta Press
The Seventh Trumpet by Peter Tremayne