JACK: Las Vegas Bad Boys (4 page)

* * *

T
he restaurant
he takes me to is as far off the strip as we can get. It’s nothing like the glitz and glam of the casinos uptown. Jack holds the door for me, and a rush of authentic Mexican flavors greet us.

A waitress leads us through the small, crowed restaurant. its bright blue walls covered in Mexican artwork. Paper banners with cut-outs of sugar skulls wave in the open-air breeze as she takes us to a relaxed outdoor patio complete with twinkly lights and mariachi music.

Once we’re seated and Jack’s ordered us jalapeño margaritas, he leans across the picnic table, his eyes bright in the candlelit.

“Is this okay? It’s nothing fancy.”

“It’s perfect.”

“Good. It’s my favorite. No one ever recognizes me here. McQueen told me about it. They have a food truck that used to hang out near the gym where we worked out before all that shit went down.”

“Honestly, the whole Vegas night life is a little much for me. It’s nice to step away from the strip.”

“Really?” Jack takes one of the menus on the table and opens it. “I always got the impression you were really into the scene.”

“Why’s that?” I ask, because I never feel like I fit into that world, the one I live in. The one I work so hard at not sticking out in.

“I don’t know, I guess you mention celebrities a lot, name drop who you see at the casino ... and I swear I’ve seen you reading those gossip magazines. On the airplane and stuff?”

“I can see that, I guess.” Shit, I mean, I know I read that stuff, but does it make me come off as a celebrity obsessed idiot? I need him to know I’m not a fame-hunter. “But there’s more to it than that.”

“Like what?” He closes the menu without even reading it. Instead he looks right at me.

I feel my face flush again. I am not getting into my life story right now. With him. On our first date. Most likely our only date. Right now I don’t want to talk about my shitty past. I mostly want to kiss his scruffy face.

“Let me put it this way,” I tell him. “We don’t always have the luxury of being the person we want to be. Sometimes we just have to survive.”

He looks at me quizzically, as if trying to figure me out. “And US Weekly helps you survive?”

“It does,” I say, plainly. And truthfully.

He nods, not asking me any more about
that
and for a second I wonder if I completely killed the mood we had going on in the car, when he was looking me up and down and practically eating me out with his eyes.

God I hope I didn’t kill the mood ... because, damn, each second we sit here it makes me feel more and more bold about where this night could go.

I want it to go all the way.

“We need tacos,” he says. “And guacamole.”

“And for dessert?” I ask coyly, hoping he will lap up my insinuation.

“You,” he says, not even looking at me; instead, he waves over the waitress so we can order. “For dessert, I am having you.”

T
he eye-fucking
we’re doing across the table is no joke. The sexual tension is mounting and, damn, I’m ready to get this girl out of those jeans; all I want is to see her little pussy and give her a ride on my cock—because it’s been a while since I took a woman who actually made me smile.

And right now I’m more than smiling; Tess and I are laughing at everything and nothing. By the time we’ve had two margaritas, a shot of tequila, and enough
carne asada
to feed a small nation, we’re happy and horny.

I’m telling her about my trip home to see my parents, and she’s snorting as she laughs, which is pretty damn adorable. The liquor seems to drop the wall Tess has been hiding behind.

“You really walked in on them like that?” she asks.

“Yeah, he was taking her from behind when I walked into their room. I thought, damn, retirement doesn’t sound too bad if this is what you get to do at two o’clock in the afternoon.”

“Your parents sound like they’re still really in love,” she says, a small smile on her lips.

“If their sex life is any indication, yeah, I’d say they’re in love. Doesn’t mean I need to see their bare asses ever again.”

We’re cracking up when the waitress brings us our bill.

“You two are such a happy couple,” she says, her Spanish accent heavy on her lips.

That makes us laugh again, but my eyes meet Tess’s. They are so startlingly bright and unmistakably hers. She looks at me in a way that makes me realize I better check and make sure this is just a one-night thing for her too.

I pay the bill and, once we’re back in the limo, I take a direct approach.

“You wanna come back to my loft?”

“Um.” She swallows, as if trying to suppress another smile. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“It’s just for a night of fun, right? Nothing more?”

“Are you telling me you want me to come to your place just so you can fuck me, Jack Harris?”

I know she’s teasing me by the smile on her face.

“That is exactly what I’m telling you.”

* * *

O
nce the intentions
for the evening are clear, Tess becomes quiet on the way to my place. When the limo pulls up, and the driver opens our door, I take her hand, wrapping my arm around her.

“You good?” I ask. “I swear, it’s like all of a sudden I lost you.”

“Honestly?” she says, laughing again. “Um, I was just thinking that it’s been awhile since I’ve slept with a guy.”

“Ahh, there’s the Tess I know. The one who wears her heart on her sleeve.”

She smacks me across my chest as we take the elevator up to the top floor.

“Is that a bad thing? You’re the one who asked.”

“No, I like the way you’re truthful,” I say, as the doors slide open and we enter my loft. “I like that you’re so genuine. It’s refreshing. And pretty damn hot.”

“Jack Harris, are you saying you think I’m hot?” she feigns shock. Clearly with all our across-the-table flirting for the past two hours, we’ve covered the fact that there’s a mutual attraction. More than attraction. A heat. A fucking inferno.

“Yes, Tess, but a girl like you doesn’t need to fish for compliments.”

She follows me into the open floor plan loft that I call home. I appreciate the fact that she isn’t gawking at the view, gushing about the artwork or the magazine-worthy furnishings of the place.

She’s looking right at me, and the rest of the world seems to have faded away. And that makes me hard as hell, and also, makes me want to grab hold of this girl and thank her with my cock. Because, damn, she makes me feel good.

“Oh, I’m not fishing, Jack. I think you’re hooked.”

“With bait like that.” I grin, shaking my head at how cheesy this all is, but also how good it feels not to be trying to impress Tess, to just be with her, in this moment.

I told myself I was going to give her a night she wouldn’t forget, and I’m a man of my fucking word.

So I take hold of her waist, pull her close to me. She licks her lips, and I can’t resist any longer.

Pressing my mouth to hers, I taste the salty sweetness of the margaritas, and the tender desire she admitted to holding for me since we met. One taste of her and I know I want more. Need more.

I taste her, and then I take what we both want.

The slow kiss grows more urgent, and my hands find their way under her blouse. As I run my hands across the small of her back, my rod grows. And as I reach her tits, which are full and lush and just fucking perfect, she groans.

Which really fucking turns me on, because I’m the one who’s getting rock hard as my thumbs circle her taut little nipples, massaging her soft skin gently.

Our mouths continue to explore one another, my tongue circling hers. Her hands reaching toward my bulge, feeling my hardness though my pants. As I slip my hand under the waistband of her jeans, the soft hair of her unshaven pussy makes me think I might fucking explode.

I need her out of these clothes, and now.

I lift her blouse over her head, see her eyes filled with lust as I look her over. Her gaze holds mine as she slips off her sandals, unbuttons her pants and shimmies out of them.

She stands in my loft, wearing only a tiny pair of panties. The room is dark; the only light is the bright lights of the Strip shining through. She reaches up to her hair, then pulls it out of the messy bun. Her locks tumble over her shoulders, tousled perfection.

Her lips part as she takes a deep breath. The concave dip at the base of her neck deepening as she breathes, as if she’s holding her breathe for whatever happens next.

I don’t move, just watch her as she hooks her thumbs under the waistband of her panties, pulling them down, stepping out of them. And then she’s before me.

And I don’t fucking know how a night that started with me BS-ing with the guys at the whiskey bar has landed me here, with this innocent creature, who is bare, undone, offering herself to me.

But Tess, in her stripped-down state, is a force to be reckoned with. She isn’t like any girl I’ve ever known.

Tess is raw, vulnerable. Transparent in her desire for me, she stands before me with her hands grazing her body, her fingers sweeping across her perfect little pussy.

And right now, with her clothes shed, I know what she wants.

Her thighs glisten with wetness as her eyes plant themselves on my obvious hard-on. Her hands touch her breasts, desperate in her longing. It’s as if there’s an ache in her belly and she wants it gone.

And I’m the only one who can set her free.

* * *

I’ve never felt so exposed in my life.

But I’ve also never felt so wanted.

I never knew tacos were such an aphrodisiac, but they are. Maybe it’s the spicy salsa, burning us up.

I don’t know. I just want—scratch that,
need
—Jack to take me. Hard. Like, now. Otherwise I’m gonna have to press a finger inside myself, circle my clit all on my own. Because I can’t stand here, staring at this man for much longer, without letting myself orgasm.

He is that hot.

I’ve never seen Jack undressed in any shape or form. He takes off his shirt, and as he does, I can’t help myself. My fingers graze lower, to my downy hair, and press themselves into my opening.

“Damn girl, where did you come from?” His eyes are on the space between my legs.

“I was here all along,” I tell him, touching myself because he isn’t.

He takes off his pants and all that’s left is his boxers, which are hiding the one part of him I need to see the most.

“Let me see you,” I ask in a whisper. The loft is so silent, so still. It’s only our voices here, our breath. Our bodies.

He takes off his boxers, and his cock springs to life. I could tell from how hard he was under his pants that he had a cock girls fantasize about, but this isn’t even my wildest dreams.

No wonder Ashley was freaking out in public about the breakup. She’s taken this cock plenty of times, and knows what she’ll be missing.

But tonight, I’ll have him in me. And all I want is to be devoured.

“You’re so big, Jack,” I tell him, my breath short as my anticipation grows.

“Does that scare you?” he asks, stepping toward me, stroking himself. He comes so close I can feel his tip against my belly.

“I’m not scared of anything,” I tell him. Because I’m not. When you’ve been where I come from, nothing scares you anymore.

He kisses me again, holding my face with both his hands, and I moan, knowing, now, what is to come.

My body is already thrumming. Ready.

He picks me up with the strength I knew he had, holding me in his arms, carrying me to his bed. As he carries me, I notice my surroundings for the first time.

The loft is open; bookshelves are used as dividers to separate the fluid spaces. Everything is white or wooden, with green plants everywhere. It’s a jungle oasis in this skyscraper. So crisp, so fresh. So natural.

I’ve never been in a house like this. It feels magical, like someone drew this room in the pages of a coloring book ... but somehow it’s real.

His bed is raised from the ground with massive ropes on all four corners. As he sets me down, it swings ever so slightly.

“You sleep on this?” I ask, my head falling against the white pillows, my legs stretched out on the duvet.

“I do, but you won’t be, not tonight.” He follows me onto the bed, hovering above me. His cock is so thick, the only thing between us.

“Show me what we’ll do tonight.” I spread my legs, my pussy so ready, so wanting.

On his knees before me, his inked-up arms run down my torso, stopping at my thighs. He smacks them gently, then his hands grip my ass.

I gasp, my back arches.

He smiles.

He runs a hand over my opening, teasing me. Delighting me. Fingers slip into my folds, circling my pleasure spots.

“You like to be touched, don’t you?” he asks softly.

“I do.”

“What else do you like?” He moves his fingers faster, in and out, his thumb against my clit, his other finger deep inside me, pulsing against my pussy walls. “Tell me what else you want, Tess.”

I feel myself release against his fingers, and he takes his hand from me, grabbing my thighs. My wetness glistens on my skin.

He gets off the bed, pulls me to the edge. He stands before me, his bed the perfect height for him to enter me.

I wrap my legs around his waist. His cock is so close to me. I want it inside my pussy. I want it inside my mouth. I want to suck him and lick him, and come all over him.

“I want you to fuck me, Jack, now.”

“Good.” He rolls on a condom, and as he does I can’t take my eyes off his cock. It’s so thick, so long. I moan, my pussy still dripping with desire. I need him in me. “You think you can handle it?” he asks, his eyes on me.

“I’ll die trying.”

He spreads my legs again. My pussy lips are already warmed up, but nothing could prepare me for his rod.

“Oh, God,” I scream, my fingers digging into the bed. Not because I want him to stop, but because I have never been fucked with a cock so impressive, with a cock that filled me up so well.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “Because you know you want it.”

“I do want it. I want it so bad. I want your huge cock in my pussy.”

His pecs flex as he pulls my legs over his shoulders, as he thrusts inside of me, just like I asked.

“How bad did you say you wanted it?” he asks, liking the dirty talk—and that’s good, because I do, too. It fulfills my fantasy, the way I always imagined Jack coming in me.

But this is no dream. This is real.

“I want to be fucked until I scream your name. I want to be fucked until I forget where I am.”

That seems to be what he wants to hear, because he comes in me deeper, filling me completely. As he moves inside of me, the bed moves too, and we’re in a rhythm, in sync.

“I’m so close, Jack. You’re gonna make me come so hard.”

“Cover my cock with your come. You know you want to.”

“Yeah, I do,” I tell him, moaning loudly.

He takes me until I explode.

“Jack. Jack. Don’t stop, please, don’t stop.”