So erotic, so dirty, so very, very Clay.
“Share with me,” she said, her voice breathy as she raced to another climax. She felt it closing in on her, circling her like flames, and she wanted to ride over that edge with him this time. Jump off that cliff together and sail down on a parachute of pleasure.
Holding several pearls between his teeth, he moved his mouth to hers, claiming her lips in a fury, letting her suck on the beads with him. Their tongues lashed, their teeth banged, and together they licked off the last drops of her first orgasm as she crashed into another one. A torrent of heat, and light, and fire raced through her body, consuming her. A rush of vibrations enveloped all her cells, radiating through her blood.
The necklace fell from their mouths as he pumped deeper. His shoulders shuddered, and she could feel his climax begin. “Fuck, Julia. I f**king love coming in you. I love it. So,” he said with a hard drive. “Fucking.” Then another pump. “Much,” he shouted, unleashing himself in her, then owning her mouth in a deep, passionate kiss, their lips united once more as their bodies connected.
As the aftershocks still chased her, she ran her fingers across his chest. “Welcome to the Mile High Club. I hope you enjoyed your flight.”
He flashed a quick smile at her, then kissed her softly between her br**sts, traveling up her neck, before leaving a gentle kiss on her cheek. “Makes me want to get my own jet and take you everywhere with me.”
“I’ll be your partner in that kind of crime.”
“With you and me, it would never be a crime.”
* * *
He washed off the pearls carefully, running soap and water over the necklace, then drying it off with a cotton towel. He returned to Julia who’d freshened up too, pulling on a short-sleeve blouse and a dressy pair of jeans and heels for her meeting with Farrell. She held two glasses of clear liquid, with ice cubes clinking in them. “Want to go wild and have a drink in the afternoon? Well, it’s afternoon in New York at least.”
He nodded. “Afternoon delight and afternoon drinks with my woman. Those are the ingredients for my perfect day.”
Tucking the pearls back into the box, he glanced up at her. “I want you to wear these when we go to Brent’s comedy club later tonight.”
“And you’ll look at me all night with lust and secrets in your eyes, knowing where they’ve been.”
He winked. “Exactly. That’s exactly what will be running through my mind every time I look at you,” he said.
They settled back into their seats, Julia kicking up her shoes on the wide footrest in front of her. “Can we take this jet back to New York on Sunday night?”
“I believe that is already the plan.”
“You spoil me.”
“I intend to spoil you even more,” he said, lacing his fingers through hers and squeezing her hand. An image flashed through his mind of how her ring finger would look with a diamond on it. Beautiful, perfect, and his.
“Let’s watch a movie for the rest of the flight. I have Ocean’s Eleven on my iPad.”
“How fitting. Let’s just hope we don’t run into a ton of trouble in Vegas like they did.”
“But they got away with it.”
“Then if we get into trouble at a casino, I want to have the same luck on our side that they did.”
Two satisfying hours later, the movie ended the way it always did—with eleven thieves walking away from the fountains at the Bellagio, one by one, having gotten away with the heist, luck on their side.
Soon the jet touched down in Vegas. Julia shook her head and smiled as she unbuckled her seatbelt. “I can’t believe you’re dropping me off in Vegas. On a jet. How did this become my life?”
“When you made the very wise decision to hit on me in your bar one night in San Francisco.”
She laughed, the sweet sound washing over him. “Right. That’s how it happened. I just jumped on you and gave you no choice.”
“Or maybe I hit on you,” he mused playfully, as he stood up and carried her bag to the steps of the jet. “Either way, it all worked out. I’ll see you soon. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“That leaves things pretty much wide open.”
* * *
When the Cessna landed in Los Angeles thirty minutes later, he gathered up his laptop and phone. But he couldn’t find his purple tie. He searched under the seats, on the seats, even in the bathroom. It was nowhere to be found, and he texted Julia, hoping she had it.
She replied that it wasn’t in her luggage or her purse, and that she was enjoying the view of the Strip from the penthouse at the Allegro.
He was glad she liked the room, but suddenly his mind stayed fixed on his damn tie. Maybe it was irrational, maybe he was superstitious, but he had the sinking feeling that his luck was running out.
CHAPTER FIVE
Friday, 1:33 p.m., Las Vegas
Julia’s red-soled heels clicked against the black-and-white marbled floor of the Allegro lobby—though lobby hardly felt like the right word. The entryway was stretched out like a palace, with two giant wings that wrapped around the circular hotel creating a long, tall oval in the middle of the Strip. She’d read up on the design, and the architect had waxed eloquently about being inspired by infinity pools and wanting to create that same sort of feeling of circularity, he’d called it. More like trickery.
Julia suspected the design had more to do with the ease of being swallowed up in the casino, sliding quarters into slots, slapping down chips on tables, and never being able to find your way out. This hotel typified that Vegas mentality of keep them inside. But it did so elegantly because the walls were adorned with art, replicas of some of the very paintings inside the Allegro Gallery in the heart of this hotel that boasted authenticated works from masters like Monet, Goya and Matisse.
Gorgeous emerald-green plants and small, potted trees lined the walls too, offering an inviting feel and sending the message that this was both a welcoming and an opulent place to stay.
Lord knew their room was stunning, and seemed to go on for miles. Earlier, she’d run her hands along the royal-blue comforter and leather headboard on the king-size bed, and was then drawn to the full-length glass windows that looked over the city: all of Vegas, all of gambling, all its secrets spread out below them.
She’d sighed happily, drinking in this city. Being here was like a second chance. She and Vegas used to be bedfellows, happily in love and lust when she’d taken girls weekend trips here, playing the tables at the nearby Bellagio late into the night. But then Charlie the mobster had forced her to be his ringer and to hustle for him in rigged poker games in San Francisco to pay off her deadbeat ex-boyfriend’s debt. That had sapped her love of the game just the teensiest, tiniest bit. She’d reclaim it this weekend; she’d already started taking poker back for herself, playing in New York games with Clay and Cam and a rotating cast of actors, producers, and friends. Now and then even Michelle Milo joined them. That woman had grown on her; they’d had a brief heart-to-heart when she moved to town, Julia thanking Michelle for giving Clay some of the advice he’d needed, and Michelle thanking Julia for making him—her good friend—so happy.