JACK: Las Vegas Bad Boys (7 page)

H
olding
her in my arms feels like the most natural thing in the world. I feel like shit for putting her at risk, and pissed if Emmy and Claire were right about Ashley putting the fucking press up to this.

I kiss the top of Tess’s head, promising myself I will fix this for her. I will set things straight.

Tess leans into me and I can’t help but breathe in her soft scent. Smelling her hair reminds me that she used my shampoo this morning, that not so long ago we were tangled in one another’s arms, in my bed.

Now we’re wrapped in one another’s arms again, but this time we’re in her bed.

Not the time for my cock to get hard. But damn, this girl drives me crazy. Her story makes me just want to make everything better for her, pick up the pieces of her life and fix everything. She deserves to be happy, to smile. A girl like her shouldn’t be running from some shitty father.

And what kind of horrible family must it have been, to have her running, to have her so damn scared?

“I feel like I shouldn’t have mentioned anything,” she says, her face resting against my chest.

“Don’t do that,” I tell her. “Do not minimize anything.”

I want to ask a hundred fucking questions, but I don’t want to push her over the edge when she already seems so vulnerable.

“Thank you, Jack. For making me feel less alone.”

“I’m the one who started this mess,” I tell her. I pull away from our embrace so she can see my eyes, see my sincerity. “I feel like shit.”

“You didn’t start anything. That was my dad, and it began a long time ago, when I was just a little girl. Probably when you were still learning to play the piano. Believe me, you are not the one responsible.”

“How do you know I play the piano?” I ask, smiling.

“A lucky guess.” She blinks, and her thick eyelashes mesmerize me as they flutter. “But the grand piano in your apartment helped.”

“Right. Forgot about that.”

“You just play for fun then?”

I shake my head. “I play when I’m stressed out.”

“I get that. I make tea when I’m stressed.” She smiles softly, and I do too, remembering the way she navigated her tiny kitchen with such care. “So then what do you for fun, if isn’t playing the piano?”

“I think you could make a few wild guesses.” I look down at my pants, where my growing cock is not so discreet. This girl, all up in my arms, is getting me hard.

“Are you flirting with me, Jack, in my time of need?” Her eyes widen.

“Oh, shit, sorry. Am I coming on too strong?” I ask, pulling away from what I hoped was going to become a kiss. “Seriously, that’s not cool of me.”

She grabs my tee shirt with her hand, pulling me back to her. “I was joking.”

I relax. “Good. Then you won’t mind this.”

I kiss her softly at first, my lips brushing against hers. When she meets my mouth with a hungry desire, I deepen the kiss, finding her tongue, circling it with mine in a growing passion.

Holding her face with my hands, I fall with her, back into the pile of pillows on her bed. There I kiss her nose, her neck, her cheeks. I kiss her mouth again, wanting more of her.

Wanting all of her.

I kick off my shoes, and she unbuckles my pants. I pull her sweatshirt over her head, and she shimmies out of her sweats. In minutes I’m stripped naked and so is she, save for her panties and bra.

My cock is hard, and she hasn’t even touched it. Her eyes close, and in the stillness I ask, “You sure this is okay with you? After everything that’s going on?”

“Jack, life is hard enough as it is. When it offers me something good, I’ll never say no.” She sits against the wall, her legs outstretched. I move closer to her, on my knees.

“And this is something good?” I ask.

“This is something great.”

“I think so, too,” I tell her, not fully understanding how greatness matters when you feel like your life is on the verge of collapse.

But watching—as Tess unhooks her bra, as her perfect tits fall out, as she takes my face and guides me to her chest—I begin to see.

And maybe, during my entire adult life, as I’ve written music, looked for words and stories and a way to tell the truth, I’ve been missing an integral part. The most important piece. How true can anything be when there isn’t pain mixed with the joy?

And as my mouth sucks her gorgeous tits, licks the creamy skin of her neck, as she strokes my cock, rolls my balls in her hand, I see.

I see that this moment, in her bed, is the most intimate I’ve ever been with another person. Tess, a cocktail waitress on the run, is changing me.

And I’ve only really known her a day.

She may say she needs to go, leave this city, but as she presses her mouth to my cock, tastes my thickness, holding my ass in her hands as she takes me deep in her throat, I know.

I know there is no way in hell I’m gonna let her go.

* * *

Taking him in my mouth makes me so wet. I know this entire day has been an emotional ride, but right now, I’m giving myself this little gift of escape.

And my body is thanking me.

I know Jack and I aren’t something that will last beyond our little hook-up, but right now the timing couldn’t be more perfect.

I’m not saying I need a cock to feel good about my life or myself. But I do need a cock to get me hot and bothered, to make me momentarily forget any of the other shit I need to figure out.

Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. Now I sound like a creepy runaway, because I didn’t share the details that matter. And I won’t. Not now, maybe not ever.

Still, Jack is already wrapped up in this. And nothing is going to change for either of us in the next hour.

So. His marvelous cock is in my mouth. He’s on his back on my bed, and as I lean over him, taking him as deep as I can, his hands reach for me.

I don’t hesitate. I want him to touch me, release me. I straddle him so my ass is in his face, and I continue sucking him nice and good. I know he loves it. Pre-come releases from his tip and I lick the salty cream, wanting to get him off so I can taste more of him.

All over me.

I just want Jack’s seed on my skin, my breasts, my face, all over me. I want to be marked with his come. I don’t want to be washed clean; I want the sticky smell of him on me all night long.

As I suck him, he pulls off my panties and smacks my ass, and I groan in pleasure. He buries his face in my opening, licking my slit up and down, and with each flick of his tongue I feel desire drip from my pussy.

“You like that, girl, don’t you?” he asks.

I can’t answer because I don’t want his cock anywhere but in my mouth. Instead I thank him by sitting lower on his face, so my pussy is right up against his scruffy face.

I swivel my hips, and he growls in pleasure. My pussy is thrumming in delight, pulsing as he fills my folds with his tongue. He licks me so good, my clit is on fire. He sucks the little nub until I can’t hold back any more.

He sucks me off, moving his tongue in a tight little circle, again and again and again, until I can’t help myself. I moan, “Oh, Jack, oh yeah. Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

And he doesn’t. He smacks my ass, and plunges three fingers deep into my pussy, hitting my g-spot like a fucking god, as if he’s touched my body for years and knows every single spot that will make my pussy pour.

“Oh, your pussy likes that. Your pussy is soaking me, girl,” he says as he moves his fingers in and out of me until my body falls off him.

And still he doesn’t stop.

My legs are spread and he kneels before me, pressing his fingers deeper until I’m squirting all over. I’m coming so fast. I grab the bed sheets, screaming his name as he pounds me with his fingers until I’m finger-fucked raw and good and hard. Just like I needed.

My come is everywhere; his chest is slick with my juice, but I can’t think of washing him up, not now. All I can think is that I need his cock back in my mouth so he can come all over me the same way I came all over him.

Pushing him back down on the bed, I put his hard cock in my mouth, and his hands run over my ass.

I start at his base, licking his length, and then filling my mouth again with his thickness. I keep sucking until his veiny cock is ready for release. I taste his come in my mouth, and keep pumping his big rod.

I pull his cock from my mouth, letting the ropes of his come cover my face, and my pussy keeps dripping, coming again just at the pleasure of making him come. His fingers run up and down my slit, softly thrumming against me as I moan.

His come covers my tits and, once he’s finished his release, I turn to face him so he can see the way he’s marked me.

I straddle him, my eyes locked on his, and we’re both catching our breath as I slide his still-hard cock into my wet pussy. I need him in me so bad; I need to be filled with him.

“Fuck me, Jack. Fuck me hard.”

“Tess, baby, where the hell did you come from?” he asks, thrusting his cock deep into my ready pussy.

“I come from a place you don’t want to know,” I tell him.

His hands smack my ass, and it turns me on in a whole new way. I run my hands over my tits, so I can have his creamy come on my fingertips, and I suck it off, one finger at a time.

My pussy rocks against him, and together we fuck until I forget.

We fuck until we fall asleep.

We fuck, and I never want to wake.

T
he bright morning
light shining across the room wakes me. Looking around Tess’s snug studio, I’m reminded how deep the divide is between her life and mine.

But I don’t give a fuck, not even a little. I don’t care how different we are; she deserves my best. And that means helping her get protection from whatever asshole family she has.

She didn’t give me any details, but this is her story to tell. And besides, I don’t need details in order to do the right thing.

I can set her up in a nice place. Get her a townhouse or condo, help her go to school or whatever else it is she wants to do with her life.

Looking around, I see piles of books all over the place, so maybe she wants to go to school for English or some shit. I don’t really care what she wants to do; I just need to help her get out of this situation.

We fell asleep last night, exhausted by our marathon of fucking. And I swear, somewhere amidst the rumpled bed sheets and setting sun, we laid our hearts out for one another.

I don’t mean to say we’re all in love or whatever; I’m not ready for commitment after just getting out of things with Ashley. I just mean that something real happened between Tess and me.

It was more than sex.

And, honestly, it wasn’t particularly romantic, either. It was something powerful, something real. Something we shared that I have never experienced with anyone else.

Not that I can be guaranteed she felt the same thing pass between our bodies, but I swear she did.

She stirs now, and I kiss her shoulder before getting out of bed.

Her bathroom is the size of a small closet, and I have to lower my head to stand in the shower, but I remind myself this is only temporary.

When I come back into her room, I see she’s awake—and, unfortunately, a bathrobe is covering her all too well. She’s standing at the refrigerator with the door swung open.

“I don’t have any food,” she moans, “and I’m starving.”

“Me, too. We could get breakfast at Spades; they have a few decent places for brunch.”

“Brunch?” She smiles. “I forget what a hipster you are, Jack.”

“I feel like I should take offense to that.”

“Just make sure you never get a man bun, and I won’t hate on you too hard.”

“So, breakfast at Spades? I can call a car around.”

“Sure. I have to go there today, anyways.”

“So you aren’t running away yet?”

She twists her lips. “I need to get some things from my locker, and tell my manager that I’m quitting.”

“You aren’t really leaving, just like that.”

“You don’t get it, do you?” She closes the fridge and heads to the bathroom. “I’m leaving, Jack.”

I don’t know what to say. I don’t have any right to tell her to stay here. She’s her own woman, and the last thing she needs is some guy bossing her around … but, shit. She can’t go.

Not now. Not after last night.

I run my hands through my hair.

“Can I take you out to breakfast first?” I ask. “Before you leave?”

“Okay,” she agrees, turning on the water to the shower. “But it can’t take all day. When I say breakfast, that’s what I mean.”

“So no sex on our way to the casino?” I ask. “Just looking for clarification.”

“I appreciate it,” she says, laughing. “But no, I never said we couldn’t fuck before we get pancakes. I mean,
carpe diem
and all that crap, remember?”

I watch as she drops her robe and steps into the shower. Her backside taunts me with its curves.

I adjust my cock. Hell, I remember, all right. In fact, she’s made certain I’ll never forget.

* * *

I
t doesn’t matter
what day of the week it is; brunch at Spades is always a mad house. One of the downsides to being the most popular casino in Vegas.

As the limo pulls up to the glossy black building, I realize that this is a terrible idea. Not the sex we just had in the limousine; that was off the charts. I mean coming here.

“We can’t eat here, Tess,” I say, zipping my fly. “We must have been in a sexed-up fog to forget that the press will be all over this place.”

She moans, her head falling back against the leather interior. “I’m seriously hungry. And I know you think I’m sexy for whatever reason, but let me tell you, hungry Tess isn’t sexy. She isn’t cute. She’s a monster.” She pulls up her panties and adjusts her skirt, and I try to focus on anything besides the taste of her that’s still on my lips.

“I don’t think you could be a monster. Maybe an ogre. But a monster? No.”

“I feel like you’ve confused your mythological creatures, Jack. Ogres
are
monsters.”

“I feel like we’re getting off topic,” I tell her as the car comes to a dead stop. There are dozens of people here at the valet.

“Let me call Emmy,” Tess says. “We can eat at her place. Tell the driver to swing around to the private entrance.”

A few minutes later, Tess and I climb out of the car at a much more discreet entrance to the hotel. There’s an elevator back here at the end of the parking garage that has direct access to Ace and Emmy’s penthouse.

“It’s weird we didn’t come this way in the first place,” Tess says, as the elevator doors slide open.

Stepping inside, I try to explain. “Ash would never have let me come this way.”

Tess tilts her head. “What do you mean?”

“For her, image was everything. She Snapchatted her entire existence.”

“But you loved her, right? I mean, a year is a long time.”

When the elevator comes to a stop I grab her hand, wanting to clarify before we head into Ace and Emmy’s place.

“I thought what she and I had was love. But I was wrong.”

“How do you know you were wrong?” she asks, her voice a whisper.

“What Ash and I had couldn’t have been love,” I tell her, “because what I feel for you is more than that, and we aren’t in love.”

“We aren’t.” She says it as a fact, not as a question, and that makes me want her all the more. She isn’t trying to get me to be something for her, to use me; she’s not asking me for a single thing.

But damn, I want to ask her for a lot. I want to ask her to stay.

“What are we then, Tess?”

“We’re late for brunch.” She shrugs, dismissing the idea of us, and more. Dismissing the truth that she and I found last night.

It fucking pisses me off, because she has no fucking clue what I would do for her, and it doesn’t even seem like she cares.

I’ve been wrong about Tess in a lot of ways; maybe this is just one more.

“Just like that?” I ask. “You’re gonna blow me off?”

“Jack, don’t be like that.”

I try to shake it off, but damn, her words cut something deep. “Like you said, you become a monster when you’re hungry. So let’s go get you fed.”

* * *

So that was intense.

Jack and I walk into Ace and Emmy’s apartment and I immediately know this was a bad idea.

First of all, Jack is all pissed because what, I’m not begging him to be my … what? Does he want me to say I want to be his secret lover? His mistress? His fuck-buddy?

I don’t want to be any of those things, but clearly he doesn’t like the fact that I’m not fawning all over him. Or maybe he’s mad because, you know, I have to skip town to avoid my psychotic father who may be looking for me.

And honestly, if he wants to get mad at me for that, instead of, you know, asking some follow up questions about my family, fuck him.

And I don’t say that meanly—but, seriously, I have no room in my life for unnecessary drama.

And, second of all, Emmy knows something is off right away.

“So, this is a surprise,” she says, arms crossed, tapping her finger on her elbow. “I just called Ace and told him to come up. He’s been at the office.”

“I feel bad, if we’re putting you out,” I say, holding my purse, prepared to just leave the way I came.

“What are you talking about? I have a personal chef, Tess. Ricky can make you anything you want.”

“Really? A personal chef?” I try not to act surprised—but, damn, this class divide is seriously growing each day.

Emmy shrugs. “Ace has been all wrapped up in the launch of Hearts Royalle, and now that it’s officially been open for a month, Ricky was my present. To myself.”

“Rewards,” I say, using our term for basically any sort of treat we give ourselves for getting through the day.

And while I usually reward myself with, say, a Frappuccino after a long shift on the casino floor, Emmy has upgraded to a 24/7 cook.

“Right?” She smiles, and we follow her into the sleek kitchen, where a man in his forties is dicing onions, wearing an apron. He waves at us with his knife as Emmy keeps talking. “So, tell me the truth, why did you two come here to eat, anyways?”

“We had a sleepover at my place,” I tell her nonchalantly, noticing that Jack is typing on his phone and not really paying attention. “And I had no food for breakfast. We came here to have brunch but we realized that us together in public was a stupid idea. And, besides all that, I’m legit hangry.”

“The struggle is real,” Ricky says, smiling as he adds bacon to the griddle. “Any allergies?”

“None. Well, none for me. I don’t know about him.” I point to Jack, who briefly looks up from his phone and shakes his head.

“Anyways, there was a whole thing with the press yesterday and it freaked me out a bit—”

Jack looks up from his phone. “A bit?” His tone is sharp, but I shake it off and keep talking.

“So I was freaked out; that’s why I want to avoid the cameras. I just don’t want the attention.”

Jack snorts. “She doesn’t know, Tess? About why you’re in Vegas?”

Emmy looks us over, as if attempting to discern what the problem is.

But the problem is pretty damn clear. Apparently Jack has no qualms with calling me out on the carpet.

And I have the sinking realization that perhaps jumping into Emmy’s penthouse was, like, the worst idea ever. Instead of having a morning quickie on our way here, maybe we should have talked about safe words and off-limit topics.

“Why are you being like this?” I hiss at him.

He shakes his head slowly. “This is such bullshit.”

Ace walks into the kitchen, fist-bumps Jack, and then greets Emmy and me with a kiss on each of our cheeks, unaware of the tension between Jack and me.

“So, what’s up, motherfuckers?” he asks, punching a few buttons on a very complicated-looking espresso machine. “Cappuccino?”

“Yes, please,” I say, as Ricky cracks a few eggs and begins to scramble them.

“So you two came over together?” Ace asks.

“Yeah,” Jack says shortly, sliding his phone in his pocket. “But I’m actually in yesterday’s clothes and should really go take care of a few things. You good here, Tess?” he asks me with a distant look in his eye.

“I guess.” I shake my head, hating the way he’s decided to back off.

“Okay,” he says, nodding at me. “Then I’ll see you around. Oh, can someone take Tess home?”

“I’ll see you later, then?” I ask, but as I do, I realize that if this is his passive-aggressive way of getting back at me for not telling Emmy my entire backstory, then I really don’t care if he calls or if I see him again or if this really is the end.

Of whatever the hell we are.

“Sure, Tess,” he says flatly. “Why don’t you give me a call if you want to see me.”

He leaves the way he came, and once he’s gone Emmy and Ace look at me, eyes bugging out.

“So that just happened,” Emmy says, grimacing.

“Fucking asshole,” Ace says. “I told him not to hurt you.”

“Yeah,” Emmy says, eyebrows raised. “Sounds like he really listened.”

“I’m gonna go talk to him,” Ace says, before following Jack out the door.

I look away, because the tears in my eyes betray everything I’m feeling. “I feel so stupid,” I say, biting back a sob.

“Shush, that’s crazy talk. Come to the living room, eat your eggs, and tell me everything.”

Sitting on the couch, I hold the plate of eggs and bacon in my hands. I can’t talk yet; I need to eat, and think of what exactly I’m going to say to Emmy.

As I’m polishing off a third slice of bacon I hear the front door open.