Seducing the Playboy (A Hot Nights Series Book) (Entangled Brazen) (13 page)

He sat up and grabbed her thighs, hauling her over his lap. Her torso was supported on the lounger, and her legs dangled over the side.

“I swear nobody’s looking.” He yanked her robe up, exposing her ass. His blows had left a slight pink spot, and he traced it with his finger, feeling her shudder. “Not such a good girl, after all.”

She craned her neck to look over her shoulder, a sultry smile on her face and a challenge in her eyes. “That’s your hang-up, not mine.”

He braced his forearm on her lower back and gave her ass a teasing pat. “Most people wouldn’t mouth off in your position.”

She snored again.

“You asked for it.” He began to rain light blows on her lush ass, grinning when her thighs parted. She shifted, no doubt to make sure he knew she was aware of his erection. He swatted her harder, pleased when she yelped. “Too hard, too soft—there’s a Three Bears joke in here somewhere.”

He slipped his fingers between her thighs, finding her soaking wet. “Ah…just right.”

Her giggle turned into a low moan and she held perfectly still, although he doubted she’d learned her lesson. At least, he hoped she hadn’t. However, the time for teasing was gone. He circled her clit. Her thighs tensed. He flicked his middle finger back and forth, gathered moisture from her opening. She whimpered and arched her back, giving him better access. He focused on her clit, rolling it between two fingers and using his thumb as a backboard.

She broke with a soft scream, pumping her hips, and he slid his thumb inside her, applying pressure to her G-spot as she rode his hand. When her only movement was the occasional spasm, he gently rolled her onto the lounger. She offered no resistance, landing on her back, splayed out, with the robe askew, exposing more of her body than it covered.

“Definitely just right,” she gasped with breathless laughter.

He bent to lift her in his arms. “There are some things I won’t do on the porch.”

“After that performance, I’m not sure I believe you.”

He carried her into his bedroom and laid her on the bed. She wriggled out of his robe while he opened the drawer to get a condom. One by one he pulled items out of the drawer.

Jenna’s eyes shot wide. “What on earth?”

“James is a funny guy,” he said dryly, tossing a cock ring onto the bedside table. His staying power was fine, thank you very much.

She giggled and sat up, casting a glance over the toys. “Some of those things have possibilities, but I’ve got what I want right here.” Her hand closed over him.

She guided him to stand in front of her. Her hand moved up and down in a lazy caress, thumb gliding across the head of his cock. She bent her head and took him in her mouth. He groaned as a shudder shook him from the soles of his feet to his scalp, every synapse firing at once when he felt the warmth of her mouth, the firm pressure of her lips, and the teasing strokes of her tongue. He gathered her hair in his hand, holding it on top of her head so he could watch her work him, suddenly appreciating the advantage of a cock ring. He was going to blow, the sensation and the view a powerful combination that shot straight to his balls, currently cupped in her palm.

He saw red, then white as his climax barreled toward him. He reached down to squeeze the base of his cock, hard. “If you keep doing that, we won’t need a condom.”

She looked torn, so he made the decision, donning a rubber and flopping onto his back on the bed. She climbed on top of him.

“Are you a breast man?” she asked, sliding down with taunting slowness before she rose up onto her knees again. He gasped as he slipped out of her body.

“Or an ass man?” She reversed her position and took him into her body again, this time facing his knees.

“I’m a yes man,” he groaned. Especially since there was a mirror over the dresser at the end of the bed and he could see everything.

“This is where one of those battery-operated devices would come in handy, but I’ll make do.” She licked her fingers and pressed them between her legs. Fire raced up his spine. There was no way in hell he was going to be able to wait for her.

“Next time,” he promised, grasping her hips as he lost control.

Chapter Ten

By Monday morning, they’d worked their way through every item in the drawer but one, and he was saving it for the drive.

“Limo’s here,” he called to her through the bathroom door.

She opened it, steam billowing out. “What? I thought we were driving.”

“We’re traveling by car, but mine doesn’t have a backseat or enough trunk space. I hired a limo. Huge backseat.” He leered at her.

“You’re insatiable.”

“Damn straight. Wear these, okay?”

“Vibrating panties? You shouldn’t have.”

“First stop is your place so you can pack. Then we’ll swing by the Beach House.” He’d checked in with Max several times yesterday, and business had increased exponentially. “We’ll be in Las Vegas by dinnertime, and I have reservations at a cute little French bistro where we can watch the Bellagio fountain. Do you like to gamble?”

“I have no idea. I’ve never had enough money to be willing to risk any.”

“We’ll have to see if you like risking mine. I also have tickets for Cirque du Soleil, the sexy one. And our room has a stripper pole, in case you get inspired by the performers.”

“Wait—what?”

He grinned. “The last one was a joke.” But it did have a hot tub, a balcony, a fully stocked kitchen and a king-size bed. He’d taken Max’s advice and pulled out all the stops. Giving one hundred percent had been beaten into him from an early age. He’d show her how much he cared and give her the trip of a lifetime. Then he’d find the right time to talk to her about making it permanent.

“I’ll be right out.”

He finished cleaning up the kitchen and carried his stuff out to the car, feeling energized. Taking a day off had been a great idea. They’d spent every moment together, and he couldn’t wait to get everything settled into the kitchen in Vegas so they could continue having fun. She came out of the house wearing her chef pants and one of his T-shirts. “I hope you don’t mind. I borrowed your shirt.”

“Not a bit.” He helped her into the car. “But you look better naked.”

After a quick stop at her house so she could pack a bag, they hit the Beach House. Once again, he was amazed by her organizational skills. She moved through the kitchen with a list, tucking items into a bus tub. Once that was stowed in the limo, she pulled out another list and began handing the cooks boxes of frozen chocolate cream puffs to carry out to the car. Then she packed the mousses in coolers, and pulled out another list for caramel ingredients. “I think you forgot towels, gloves, and the kitchen sink,” he teased.

“Towels and gloves are packed.” She raised an eyebrow. “You can’t talk your friend Alex into letting us use a sink? What did you do to her?”

His mouth fell open, and he shut it with a snap. “Nothing.”

“I bet.” She left him standing at the limo, filled with dread. Of all the women in his past, Alex probably had the worst opinion of him. Introducing her to Jenna wasn’t going to help his cause at all, but there was no way to get out of it.

After a last trip through the kitchen, Jenna declared them ready and they headed for the interstate. She yawned. They’d stayed up most of Saturday night, slept much of Sunday away, and repeated the process. It was no wonder she was tired. Luckily, they had plenty of room, a four-hour ride, and he had an excellent wake-up call planned for her.

He put his arm around her and kissed the top of her head. “Naptime.”

…

When Jenna awoke, her body was on fire. She was sticky with perspiration, and her hair covered her face, neck, and shoulders in a suffocating cape. She moved to brush it out of her eyes and realized the heat wasn’t only external. She was aroused, hovering on the edge of orgasm. She kept her eyes shut and rubbed her thighs together, feeling as if the hum of the road was driving her. It wouldn’t take much to send her over the edge. What on earth had she been dreaming?

Roman. Of course…always Roman.

Bits and flashes came back to her. In the shower…on the porch…touching her, even in sleep…always hungry for her, every waking moment. She gazed at him, whispering…
I love you
…

Her eyes flashed open and Roman was staring down at her, blue eyes intense, just like her dream. She cried out, waves of pleasure breaking over her, sweeping from her groin to her belly and breasts, arms and legs, lapping at her toes. She writhed, helpless in the grip of climax, and he held her, keeping her from falling off the limo seat, until she stopped shaking.

She panted, body humming, and Roman chuckled. She heard a click, and the hum abruptly stopped. Her body sagged with relief. She had forgotten about the vibrating panties. He must have turned them on while she was sleeping, and the subtle stimulus had invaded her dreams. On its own, the vibrator might not have been powerful enough to do the job, but combined with her imagination, spectacular—and a little terrifying during that last bit. However, she had better things to think about while her cheek was pillowed on his erection.

She stretched, rubbing against him.

“Have fun?” he asked. “You slept the whole way.”

“I did? We’re here?” Sure enough, tall buildings surrounded them. Flashing billboards reached to the sky, and people streamed everywhere. They moved through traffic at a snail’s pace. She checked to make sure the divider was up, blocking the driver’s view, and then slid into his lap, straddling him.

“No time for that, I’m afraid.” The limo darkened as they pulled under the awning of a hotel.

“That hardly seems fair.”

“It shouldn’t take long to get our stuff settled into the kitchen, and I reserved a very special room.”

“Let me guess…another well-stocked bedside table?”

He smirked. “Something like that.”

A polite knock sounded on the door. Jenna slid out of Roman’s lap just as the door opened and the sound of honking horns filled the car. Roman slid across the seat and got out of the limo, obviously eager to get started.

She would have enjoyed another ten minutes alone with him, but she was ready to get this over with as well. Her mousses had turned out even better than she had hoped, and she couldn’t wait to send the finished desserts into the dining room. Since the menu was made up of classic French foods with whimsical touches from other cultures, she had continued the theme.

Each of four cream puffs would be filled with a different mousse, caramel infused with green tea, white chocolate imbued with saffron, frangipane paired with vanilla bean, and her favorite, a chocolate, raspberry, and Brazilian coffee mash-up that was out of this world. She and Roman had spent hours perfecting the plate presentation and figuring out how to make spun sugar without covering the entire kitchen with sticky spiderwebs. Hence the newspaper she had gathered at the last minute and shoved in with their supplies. Sometimes the only way to get a job done properly was to make a huge mess and clean it up afterward.

She got out of the limo to find Roman had commandeered a luggage cart and was loading their supplies onto it. She was awed by the hustle and bustle surrounding them, but he seemed perfectly at ease and focused. “Kitchen first.”

She followed him as he guided the luggage cart into the hotel. Lights flashed and a solid wall of noise hit them as soon as they stepped into the casino. “Holy shit.”

“No kidding. We’re in Vegas, baby.” His grin got wider. “Overstimulation is the name of the game.”

He seemed to know exactly where to go, and her unease grew as he led her through the frenetic casino to an unmarked door. He gestured for her to open it while he maneuvered the cart into a long corridor. The door shut behind them, blocking out the noise, and she sighed in relief.

The peace and quiet only lasted until they reached the kitchen, but at least this was a familiar kind of chaos. White-coated chefs called back and forth to one another as they chopped, stirred, and plated. There were several separate operations going on at the same time, and she wondered where they would fit into the mix.

“Incoming,” Roman said under his breath, a second before a chef broke free from the busiest section of the kitchen and walked toward them.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite blast from the past.” The droll voice raised Jenna’s hackles even before she noticed the perfect makeup, sleek brown hair pulled back in a French twist, and perfectly tailored, white chef coat emblazoned with
Alexandra Banks, Executive Chef of the Castle
, sharp counterpoints to Jenna’s zero makeup, limo-induced bedhead, and soaking wet panties. “I heard your good news. I suppose congratulations are in order, but I’ll just wait and send a sympathy card instead.”

“Damn, Alex. Give it a rest,” Roman said sourly as she leaned up to kiss his cheek.

“Never.” She winked then gave Jenna a broad smile. “You poor thing. Not too late to change your mind.”

“It’s so nice to meet you, Alex,” Jenna said sweetly. She pointedly ignored the remark and linked her arm through Roman’s, staking her claim.

The other woman laughed. “Let me show you where to store your things. What are you making again?” Alex asked, casting a glance over the boxes, as if they contained poison apples instead of innocuous puffs.

“Individual chocolate croquembouches.”

Her expression was easy to read. She wasn’t impressed.

Jenna felt Roman stiffen beside her, and tension throbbed up the back of her neck. A cream puff, even a chocolate one, was unimpressive at first glance, but it was her favorite kind of dessert—ordinary on the outside, full of awesome on the inside. She’d wipe that supercilious smile off Alex’s face tomorrow night.

It took another fifteen minutes to get settled in the kitchen, and Jenna was grateful for her lists because Alex’s scrutiny grew sharper every moment. When the puffs were safely in the freezer, the mousses refrigerated, and their other supplies stowed on an empty rack with a lock, Jenna and Roman retreated.

She remained silent, fuming, following him as he rolled the luggage cart out of the kitchen, through the corridor, across the casino, and up to the front desk. Of course Alex was gorgeous. Jenna had anticipated that. But she hadn’t expected Roman to be so chummy with a woman he claimed to dislike. They’d chatted the whole time Jenna was putting away their supplies.

Jenna gazed at the insanity surrounding them, feeling utterly lost. She never would have guessed she’d be intimidated by the loud casino and huge kitchen, and she didn’t like it.

“Roman Gallagher.” He gave the clerk a big smile and her eyes brightened. Jenna sighed and shook her head in disgust while the clerk typed information into the keyboard.
Roman Gallagher, playboy of the West Coast, strikes again.

“Oh, yes, we have you right here. The Honeymoon Suite. Congratulations.” This time she included Jenna in her welcome. “I’m sure you’ll want to avail yourself of all the amenities included with the room. Please let your personal concierge know when you would like to schedule your couples’ massage.” Personal concierge? Did this person have a room in their suite? Was a threesome one of the amenities? It was Sin City, after all. A giggle bubbled up in Jenna’s throat, chasing away her annoyance. Maybe Las Vegas wouldn’t be all bad.

“Thank you very much.” Roman took her hand and signed the credit card slip one-handed. Then he accepted the key cards and shouldered their bags. “Right this way, darling.”

Before they made it to the elevator, Jenna heard a squeal. A second later she was knocked off balance as a woman barreled into Roman. He wrapped an arm around Jenna’s waist to keep her from stumbling, but he also kissed the woman on the lips with more than simple courtesy. Jenna shrank away from both of them.

“Lexi, this is Jenna, my fiancée.” His proud grin would have thrilled her if their engagement had been real. Instead, it made her feel even more out of place. “Jenna, meet Lexi Larson, the host of our event tomorrow night and America’s most talented actress.”

Jenna tried not to stare. A cascade of gorgeous blue-black hair, violet eyes, gorgeous skin, tiny waist, big boobs…weren’t television stars supposed to look normal in real life?

“You big flirt.” The other woman kissed him on the cheek, leaving a smear of red lipstick, before she turned her famous smile on Jenna. “Welcome to Vegas, Jenna. I don’t know how you got him to propose, but congratulations, honey.”

Jenna nodded. “Um…thanks.”

“See you two tomorrow.” A crowd of admirer’s had gathered behind Lexi, who graciously accepted a pen, blew them a kiss, and began to sign autographs. Gorgeous
and
nice. Undoubtedly filthy rich as well and completely in her element, sporting a full-length sequined cocktail gown in Las Vegas’s newest and most luxurious casino. Jenna felt dizzy as Roman tugged her toward the elevator. She was going to have to get a grip on the jealousy consuming her or this trip would be a nightmare.
Work hard, play harder.
She’d known what she was getting into but…was there any way to keep him in the room the whole time? And where was she going to get the drink she so desperately wanted? The Honeymoon Suite had better have a mini-bar.

“Roman!” a female voice called.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jenna muttered, pausing.

Roman glanced over his shoulder. The elevator in front of them opened, and he pulled her inside the empty car, stabbing buttons with his finger. Jenna saw a fifty-something blonde with striking blue eyes glaring at them as the doors slid shut.

Jenna arched an eyebrow, trying to appear blasé. “Friendly neighborhood cougar?”

“Worse.” Roman’s smile was bleak. “My mother.”

…

Roman dipped the key card into the slot on the door, allowing Jenna to precede him into the room. While she’d slept in the limo, he’d started to fill a spiral-bound notebook with everything he knew about re-creating a restaurant. It was hardly a step-by-step instruction manual, but it would give her a place to start with Cooper’s. He’d become so involved, he’d almost forgotten to turn on the vibrating panties. Luckily, she’d gotten off just in time, and he’d wanted to hustle her up to their room and get naked since the minute they arrived. If he’d known they’d have to run the ex-girlfriend gauntlet and narrowly avoid a confrontation with his mother, he’d have asked the limo driver to drive around the block a few times to save his sanity.