Wild Aces (6 page)

Brea

“You haven’t stopped smiling since you walked in this bar,” Frankie said.

I took off my jacket and placed my phone on top of the table. It wouldn’t be leaving my sight until I heard back from Trapper. I’d sent him a text on my way to the bar, the first text since the masquerade party. It was only three words—
Hi, it’s Brea
. Hopefully, it was the start to a very long conversation.

“Yeah,” I answered. “I’m just…happy.”

“Is it the wine?” she asked. She’d ordered a bottle of my favorite.

I took a long drink. “Nope. Not the wine, but it’s delicious.” My phone beeped, and my eyes jumped to the screen.

Mom: Where the heck are ya?

Me: At a bar with Frankie. Sorry I forgot to call yesterday. If I don’t call in the morning, I’ll see you on Thursday. XOXO

“Is it because you leased the Shuman’s penthouse on the same day it was listed and pocketed your largest commission to date?”

“Nope. Not it either.” That was fucking fantastic though.

“So then…what is it?” Frankie waited. “Out with it!”

Two days had passed since the party, and I hadn’t said a word to her about Trapper, mostly because of Derek. Married couples seemed to have an unspoken rule about telling each other everything. Derek and Frankie were no different. For now, Derek didn’t need to know his client’s lips had been all over mine in his dining room when neither of us had even seen each other’s faces. There was a good possibility those lips would have gone even lower had Trapper not left when he did.

Lower
…

Holy hell. Just thinking about the possibilities made me wiggle in my chair.

“I’m just happy,” I said again. “Can’t I smile when I feel good without having an exact reason for it?”

“Not you, no.”

She was right. I wasn’t prone to unprompted happiness since Cody had passed away.

“Don’t make me order tequila shots,” she said, signaling the waitress.

“Nooooo!” I grabbed her hand and brought it toward the table. “No tequila. No hard alcohol. I’ve barely recovered from the last time we did shots.”

My phone beeped, and the screen lit up with the text I’d been waiting for.

I dropped her hand and lifted the phone.

Trapper: Two days. Impressive.

When I looked up, I found Frankie staring at me, scrutinizing my reaction. I felt like Trapper was doing the same through text. I’d waited two days to keep from seeming desperate, and he’d noticed.

I tried to keep a straight face, so I wouldn’t give anything away as I thumbed a quick response.

Me: Why? Did you miss me?

“Brea Bradley, I’m about to come over there and—”

“Okay, okay.” I set the phone on the table and swirled the wine around in my glass. “I met a guy. And he’s…kind of everything.”

“Who’s this guy? What’s his name? And what do you mean by,
everything
?”

Another text came in.

Trapper: I was starting to think you were faking those moans.

I took a drink, trying to calm myself down. Thoughts from that evening triggered an instant quiver in my stomach.

“He’s mysterious and sexy. Charming and so yummy. And he can kiss, like
really
kiss. I felt it in my chest and my legs and…between them.”

If I said his name, she’d go straight to Derek with it—not in a bad way, just in that married way. Until I knew we’d be moving beyond moaning texts, he would be
the guy
.

“God, I was so wet when we finished that I nearly had to wring out my panties—except I wasn’t wearing any. But if I had been…”

I answered his text.

Me: Faking? Oh no. I was actually holding back…big time.

“You’re incorrigible,” Frankie gasped.

“Yep. I’m so guilty of that.”

“You’ve been looking for a good man with a perfect cock. Do you think he’s the one?”

Good question. “I think he’s a promising candidate.”

Frankie crossed her arms over the table. “I should still come over there and smack you.”

“Why?”

“Because you waited
how
long to tell me this?”

My phone beeped again.

Trapper: I want to hear how loud you can moan.

I wanted to hear how loud I could moan, too…and scream. I had a feeling he could bring out my upper range.

“There isn’t much to tell.” I refilled our glasses, the bottle getting dangerously close to empty. “We kissed for a while. We texted for the first time today. I just told you about it. That’s it really.”

“But you didn’t just meet him today, so you’re at least a day late in sharing the news. I’m furious with you and ecstatic at the same time.”

“I’m sorry for the delay.” I wasn’t really, but I did feel bad for not being able to share everything with her, like we always did.

“So, when are you going to see him again?”

“I don’t know.” My phone lit up, causing me to lose my focus again. “He’s…he’s in Vegas. I have no idea when he’s coming back.”

I shot him another quick reply.

Me: You’ll be hearing it. Very soon, I hope.

“You do plan on calling him while he’s there, don’t you?” she asked.

I looked at his last message again. It felt like some sort of invitation. “I hadn’t planned on it, but now, I think I will.”

“Do you know why he’s there? Bachelor party, work, a trip with friends?”

I shrugged. “I only know how good he tasted.” And smelled. And felt.

The tingling was making a return.

“You need to change that.”

She was right. I did need to change that. I also needed to hear his voice, and he needed to hear mine. A plan started to formulate in my head. I had the perfect way to make sure he would be thinking of me for however long he planned on being in Vegas.

“You’re plotting, aren’t you?” she said. “I can see it all over your face.”

I smiled and picked up my glass. “Oh, yes, I have a plan. And it’s a good one.”

Frankie glanced at the bottle. “I need to order another one before you fill me in.”

I laughed. “Maybe you should order two.”

I rushed into my closet and opened the sexy drawer—the one filled with the lingerie I’d purchased over the last several months. I began pulling out each of the pieces until I found the black lace set. The color matched the mask he’d worn to the party and the leather bracelets around his wrists.

I kicked off my knee-high boots and pulled off my jeans and sweater. Then I threw the bra and panties I had on into the laundry bin. Now naked, I moved to the full-length mirror and gently clasped the black lace bra behind my back and shimmied the panties up my legs. It had been hours since I’d touched up my makeup and fixed my hair. It didn’t matter, not for what I had planned.

Clutching the phone in my hand, I crawled up my bed and lay back into the pillow. As I held it above me, I watched my body fill the screen. It took a few tries to get the shot I wanted, but eventually, I captured it—my entire torso, from the middle of my bra to the end of my panties, zoomed in tight. I played around with some filters to hide all the imperfections. If things went any further than this, he would see them in person anyway.

Ah, fuck it.

I attached the unfiltered picture to a text and held my breath as I sent it. Once the word
Delivered
appeared under the picture, I hauled ass to the kitchen and filled a glass with wine. I was sure I didn’t need any more after the few I’d had with Frankie, but I had just sent this sexy stranger a picture of me in lingerie. Wine was a necessity at this point.

Back in my bedroom, I turned off the light and climbed under the covers. I flipped through the TV stations, trying to find something entertaining enough to distract me and keep me from falling asleep. At almost three in the morning, my options were slim. Just as I settled on a movie, my phone rang. Trapper’s name brightened up the screen.

I held the wine in my hand and took a deep breath. “Hello?”

“You have my attention.” His voice was deeper and sexier than I remembered.

There was so much happening in the background—chiming and buzzing, laughter and shouting, typical Vegas noises. It made it a little difficult to hear him.

“I wonder what I should do with it…”

“Fuck.”

I loved how that word sounded in his voice.

“I should have taken you home with me, so I could have eaten your gorgeous body.”

“It was a good thing you didn’t. You would have missed your flight. I would have made sure of it.”

“If your legs had been wrapped around my head, it would have been worth missing.”

I moaned from his response.

“It’s three in the morning there. Why are you still awake?”

“I went out tonight.”

“Were you wearing…that?”

I giggled. “No. I put that on for you.”

He breathed into the phone. It was so hot that it made my legs spread.

“You’re teasing me, Brea.”

“Think of it as more of an appetizer.”

“I’m in Vegas. I can’t eat your appetizer from here.”

He wanted to eat me, and he wanted my legs wrapped around his head. As I thought about him doing both, it was impossible to sit still. My hand traveled to my stomach. I was tempted to move it lower and slide my fingers into the wetness between my legs. But if I did that, there was no way I could keep quiet, and he would know what I was doing.

“Then come back to Boston.”

“I wish I could, but things are just getting started out here.”

What things
?

“Are you in bed?” he asked.

“Yes.” I pushed the blanket down until it was only covering my feet. “It’s so quiet there all of a sudden.”

“I’m in my room now.”

Just him and me. Alone.

“I think you owe me something.”

I opened my eyes and looked down my body. My fingers were running along the top of my panties. “What’s that?”

“A moan.”

I sighed. My head fell flat against the pillow as my fingers moved across the sides of my body.

“The one I heard a second ago wasn’t loud enough. I want to hear what it sounds like when you’re touching yourself. Are you naked?”

“You saw the picture. That’s what I’m wearing.”

“Then take it off. I want nothing covering your pussy, except for your hand.”

“Trapper, I—”

“I’m on the other side of the country, and the only thing I can think about is this picture you sent of your perfect body wrapped in lace, begging for me to drag my fucking tongue across it. Touch yourself, Brea, because I can’t do it myself.”

There was no way I could deny that request, nor did I want to. There was something about him that I trusted, something deeper than our kiss and the words we’d spoken to each other. I wasn’t sure why or how it was even possible after knowing him only a short time, but I wasn’t letting those questions hold me back.

I slid my panties down my legs and kicked them to the floor. I exhaled roughly as I rested my fingers against the top of my pussy. “Like this?” I groaned.

“Yes. Now, I know you’re touching yourself. The only thing better would be if it were my tongue sliding over your skin.” He was absolutely right. “Move your hand to the lips of your pussy. Rub them soft and slow.”

“What about you? Aren’t you going to touch yourself?” It was only fair that our pleasure would be mutual.

“No.”

I stopped what I was doing. “No?”

“All I want is to hear you come. It’s for me as much as it is for you. Now, rub them.”

Why did that turn me on even more?

Calm, demanding, and all about making me feel good. He was perfect.

I dipped my fingers a bit further down, tracing the edge of my right lip before moving to the left. The wetness had spread there, too. My pussy was pulsing, my thighs were tingling, and my stomach was quivering. All of that combined with the sound of Trapper’s voice telling me what to do were almost enough to make me explode.

“You sound so fucking sexy,” he said, his voice low and gravelly.

“It feels so good.”

“Now, use just the tip of your thumb and tease your hole with your middle finger.”

I tilted my hand sideways and did as he said. “I want it.”

“You’ll get it but not yet. Touch it like your fingers are my tongue, gently flicking against it.”

His tongue…that wasn’t difficult to imagine. “Oh. My. God.” My toes curled around the edge of the mattress as I tried to stop myself from plunging all the way inside. The anticipation was almost unbearable.

“How wet are you?”

I swiped the wetness with the pad of my middle finger and rubbed it onto my thumb. “Dripping.”

“And it’s for me?”

“Yes, Trapper, every bit of it is for you.”

“I can’t wait to drink it.” A smile crossed my lips while his words settled. “The knuckle in the middle of your finger is as far as I want you to go. And when you touch your clit at the same time, I want soft, fast strokes.”

I opened just wide enough to allow my finger in, and I cried out from the pressure. “More,” I begged. “Trapper, please give me more.”

“Where do you want it?”

“Deeper.”

A quivering burst shot up my spine and over my chest and down between my breasts. My nipples became even harder.

He breathed into the phone again. “I can’t see you, I can’t feel you, so I need to hear you, Brea. Tell me how much deeper you want it.”