Three minutes later, he was back in the lift, shooting down to the lobby level, ready to find Julia and his brother at the blackjack tables where Brent said they were playing and winning. Good. Julia deserved to win every damn hand this weekend, and then some.
As he made his way through the lobby and across the crowds, something shifted in the air. A chill ran through him and his skin tingled coldly with the unmistakable sensation of being watched. Looking behind him, he spotted a tall man in a dark suit. His blood froze. Just like Julia had said.
In seconds, the man was gone.
Clay shook his head, rubbed his eyes, and wondered if he was seeing things, or if there was something more to Julia’s fears. Or if there was something more to Charlie being angry with him. Was he tracking them? Getting ready to pounce?
But then all worries were stripped from his brain when he found her at the blackjack table thirty feet away. Wearing her pearls. A bolt of heat tore through his body. The memory of that morning flashed before him like a film reel playing his favorite clips. Sliding the beads over her, watching her reaction as her eyes went hazy with desire. Her asking him to put them inside her, then him tugging them out as she leaned her head back, her mouth falling open, her shout ringing in his ears from her orgasm.
My God, she was stunning in every way.
He didn’t take his eyes off her the whole time as he walked up to her. Hell, he couldn’t not look at her—his smart, sassy, bold, confident, and fiery woman. She was made for him; he was made for her. Never had two people been so perfectly matched. Everyone else in the whole casino faded away, a sea of shadowy bodies in shades of gray, and she alone was in Technicolor to him. Her flames of hair, her emerald eyes, the creamy skin of her strong legs, the clingy black skirt, the sexy green top, and the silver bracelet on her wrist that slipped a few inches as she placed her two cards down, splitting her hand. She was all color to him, radiant, high-definition color, bright and beautiful. She was the only one he saw, the only one he ever wanted to see.
The sight of her turned the temperature in his body all the way up, reaching volcanic levels as he neared her. He swore he could smell her, the sexy-sweet scent of her neck, her hair, her body. He inhaled, and it wafted through him. Or maybe it was just his imagination because she was permanently ingrained in his senses, the imprint of her scent a homing device connecting them.
She didn’t see him walking over to her, nor did Brent, so he could do his favorite thing.
Surprise her.
First, he gently fingered a strand of her hair, a soft curl at the ends. A fluttery, barely-there touch, but enough for her to tighten her shoulders, then turn to him. The second she saw him, her eyes lit up. They were sparkling with excitement. It had only been eight hours since he’d seen her, but it felt like weeks, and to be greeted like this was one of the very many reasons he intended to put a ring on her finger this weekend.
Moving quickly, he bent his head to her ear. “I know where those pearls have been, and it makes me so f**king hard to see them on you in public.”
She shivered, then tugged him to her, angling his erection against her hip. “Is this for me?” she whispered in his ear, her voice like a shot of desire through his system, ratcheting him up another notch.
“All for you. Only for you. And I need you now.”
She tossed her cards on the table. “I think this hand is a bust,” she said to the dealer, but kept her eyes on Clay.
His brother stared at him with a knowing look on his face. “You dog,” Brent said, grinning, like he knew what Clay was about to do.
Clay clapped him on his back, and gave him a big hug. “I’ve missed you. And I owe you big time. And we’re going to see your show in twenty minutes and have a drink or two after. But right now—”
Brent cut him off, waving his hand. “I gotta go too. The stage beckons.”
Minutes later they were in the elevator, and they weren’t alone. Surrounded by other guests, Clay aligned his body with hers, her back to his front. She wriggled subtly, and he hissed under his breath. “Careful.”
“Or what?” she tossed back.
When the elevator reached their floor, letting them out, he spun her around, her chest pressed to the wall, and pinned both of her wrists above her head. “Or this,” he said, lining his body up against hers, and sliding his free hand up, up, up the inside of her leg until he reached her panties. “Or I will f**k you in the hall.”
“You say that like I wouldn’t want you to f**k me in the hall,” she said.
“You say that like you wouldn’t care about anyone seeing us,” he said, rubbing his hard c**k against her. Off in the distance, he was vaguely aware of another guest leaving a room and heading in their direction to the elevators.
“I wouldn’t care, Clay. I just want you,” she said. “Now, please can we finish what we started with the texts?”
He moved his hand from between her legs, up to her br**sts, palming one delicious globe in his free hand. “You want me to f**k your br**sts?”
“I do. I really do.”
He dropped her wrists, grabbed a hand, and led her into their room a few doors down. The door was still closing as she stripped off her skirt, her shirt, her bra, her br**sts tumbling free while he shucked off his clothes.
With only her red-soled heels on, she moved to the bed, and spread herself out on the royal-blue covers, then pressed her br**sts together. “Come here,” she said, huskily.
“That’s a double entendre,” he said playfully as he stalked over to her.
“I know. Now straddle me. Climb over me,” she said, her eyes never leaving his as she started giving the orders. He didn’t know it was possible to be more aroused than he had been a few moments ago. But it was possible, because he was aching. His dick throbbed, to the point of painful with the need to have her.
“Touch yourself first.”
He kneeled over her, one leg on either side of her br**sts. She’d put herself in a thoroughly submissive position and he was dominating her physically, but somehow she was in charge too.
He gripped his c**k in one hand, and she wrapped her hand over his. She guided him, their hands together stroking him. “Now, bring your c**k to my mouth. I need to get you all ready to f**k my br**sts.”
She pressed her head back against the pillow, her red hair spread out like a fan.
“You sure you can handle this? I don’t have it in me to go easy right now. An entire day away from you on a f**king vacation is torture.”