Hold 'Em: Vegas Top Guns, Book 3 (5 page)

“Call,” he said to the dealer, when she’d barely paid attention. Oh, that was no good.

She edged deeper into his space, near enough that she could smell the faint hint of his cologne. The warm notes of the scent were sultry and went straight to her brain. And deeper. He hadn’t worn cologne six years ago. Then he’d been all about Ivory soap.

Had his friend given him the cologne too?

“So what have you been up to, Mike?” The question popped out of its own volition. “Are you dating anyone?”

Amusement was back in his bright blue eyes as he silently laughed at her again. At least this time it wasn’t about her ambition.

“If I were, do you think I’d let you lean all over me?” He flipped his cards over as the dealer called. He’d lost.

Maybe she
was
getting to him.

“I am not leaning all over you,” she lied. “I’m trying to peek at your hand.”

“I thought we agreed there’d be none of that.”

“I’m getting bored.”

His eyes widened to a degree that ought to be comical. But he also parted his lips on a faked gasp of surprise. Oh. This was bad. His mouth had her thinking dirty things.

She leaned away from him. Not happening. She might like risk, but there was a difference between risk and ridiculous.

“We can’t have you bored,” he murmured.

She forced a laugh. “You really have no idea. Bad things will happen. Mayhem will ensue.”

“Promises, promises.” His eyes had gone that deeper blue again.

Weird. She didn’t remember them being so changeable before. Then, he had been all bright amusement, in deeds as well as the way he looked at her.

The new Mike wouldn’t let her relax. His easygoing attitude, contrasting with the black leather jacket he’d worn on his big-ass bike, was almost more than she could take. And the fucking silver cuff. Only a completely confident guy could carry off something like that.

The way that only added to the yumminess of him? Yeah. She should be heading way deep into ignoring land.

Then he touched her.

Nothing like the rough grabs she’d dodged on occasion. His gaze focused on the bare inch at her waist revealed where her camisole had twisted on one side. The skin over his cheekbones tightened. He trailed two fingers over the waistband of her cargoes, brushing her hipbone.

A shiver worked up her spine. She locked it down as fast as she could. But not before it reached her breasts, making them feel heavier. Fuller.

“Hey, now.” She threw the words out as lightly as she could, adding in a neutral smile. “I thought we were trying the friendship thing. That means no touchies.”

“Yes, Captain.” His smile was back, but it looked more miserly. Sharper at the corners. “I guess you’re going to be giving me a lot of orders soon.”

What the hell was that strange tone of voice? She had never been very good at reading undercurrents. When a man just said what he wanted, she could decide whether to take him up on it.

“Besides,” he continued, turning back to the poker table. “You seem to feel quite free to touch me.”

She wound her fingers through his shaggy hair. Pulled. The move was light, but his shoulders tensed again. Even through the material of his T-shirt, she saw the twitch of thick muscles arrowing down his spine. “That’s different. I’m the chick.”

“All right,” he said on a laugh. “That is definitely it.” Gathering up his chips, he stood to his full height.

“Aw, come on. I was just starting to have a good time.”

He stalked through the casino, dodging a stooped old couple with matching white hair. “Yeah. I could tell.”

She sauntered along by his side. The night was taking on a heady edge that had her contemplating bad things. Or maybe very good things.

She’d changed over the last few years. If Mike didn’t come up to scratch, she could always take what she needed. No more coy playacting and hoping he would man up. Worst-case scenario had her finishing herself off, just drinking in his newfound gorgeousness as she fingered her clit.

Down, girl.
All her lady bits needed to shut the hell up. Banging a coworker would be the fast track to staying a captain forever. A short relationship with Ryan fell under the category of mistake—one they’d been able to keep on the down low. Any more risk than that and she’d pull a reputation.

But damn if she didn’t want to take a chance. She lived for risk. Lived for adventure. She never would’ve thought she’d associate that taste of the blade with Mike.

The way he prowled through the busy casino said maybe she’d been wrong. His profile was sharp, his stride powerful.

A kiss of the forbidden.

The grin he slanted at her didn’t help. “Now what?”

She nibbled her bottom lip as she looked around. What said Vegas? What hadn’t she done sixty billion times in order to stave off the boredom that chomped at her? “Wanna strip naked and run through the fountains?”

He stopped dead, letting streams of people split around him. King of the freaking world. The way he studied her shot down to her toes. “I almost believe you’d do it.”

“Almost? Just try me. I bet you’re the one who’d chicken out first.”

He lifted his eyebrows, his smile spreading slowly. He bent his head toward hers. God he smelled good, like she could just scarf him down.

“Don’t be so sure of yourself, Princess.”

“You forget. I
know
you.” She walked off. Not like she had any real destination in mind. Just away. The dude was being really unfair, tempting her with a taste of something he couldn’t choke up. “You’re nothing more than a big teddy bear.”

Out of nowhere, Leah found herself hustled behind one of the giant urns that decorated the foyers. Holy crap, how did that happen? She’d barely felt his hand across the dip of her spine before,
whoosh
, she was exactly where he wanted her.

“Has anyone ever told you that you should be careful who you tease?” He loomed over her, his voice dark and low, but she didn’t feel intimidated.
Way
beyond strange. She felt…protected, as if he was putting his body between her and the drunken crowds.

Leah made herself shrug. If the way she tucked her hands in her back pockets pushed up her breasts, too bad for him. “I’ve heard it. But I’m still not scared.”

“No? The whole whips-and-chains joke?” He planted a hand on the curve of the urn’s rim, right at her hip. “It ain’t a joke.”

She laughed. It bubbled up from her chest and spilled out without warning. He didn’t join her. His bright blues burned into her. Hot. Tempting her to believe.

He couldn’t possibly be serious. No chance on that one.

“Prove it, Michael.”

Chapter Six

No matter the larger scope of his desires, Mike really wanted to kiss that smug look off her face. She was so sure of herself.

And frankly, she’d put her money on the right pony. If judging by past experience alone, he wouldn’t have thought much of their prospects either. They hadn’t been fully formed people back then—still too young and uncertain.

He watched the corner of her mouth, the crooked place where her top lip angled higher than its flip side. Risking the ruin of a potential friendship was right there, in the urge to claim more. He wanted permission to think of that quirking mouth as his. Looking at it all day long, hampered by the “just colleagues” label, would leave him in a serious nut twist.

Kissing her was off the table. The best way to help her eat her words and her bright, teasing laughter was to show her how much he’d changed. His needs were so much deeper now.

Straightening, he forced a calming breath into his lungs. “My place, then?”

She rolled her lips into her mouth, as if trying to work sensation back into numb flesh. He knew all about that—numb everywhere except for where his cock swelled. He’d almost forgotten about that other piece of jewelry he wore, until mental and physical arousal collided around a rush of blood.

“You’re serious?”

Mike shoved his fists into his jeans. No touching. Not without permission. He’d already done more than he’d planned, but holy fuck, she’d been messing with him. A slip of skin at her waist had seemed a sanity-saving liberty after an hour enduring Leah’s oh-so-innocent flirtations.

The flirt was still very much at play, but her lighthearted attitude was proved a lie by the looks she slid down his bare arm. The backs of his triceps, the bulge where his biceps dipped toward his elbow, the tracks of muscle down his forearm—her lingering admiration was as strong as a caress.

Chin to his chest, he angled a sharp gaze from beneath his brows. “Yes, I’m serious. But it’s your call. Who knows what sort of demonic implements I have waiting for you.”

Another laugh. She shoved a restless hand through her unbound hair. He liked that. The nerves. It was a fair sight better than the
no way in hell
sign she’d been posting at the karaoke bar.

“You know, I’ve been trying to figure out what’s different about you,” she said.

He blinked. “And have you?”

“Sure, Captain Comedy. You’ve decided you have a sense of humor.”

“Yeah, that’s it.”

“Fine. Whatever. Let’s venture into the dungeon, shall we?”

With a quick thanks to Lady Luck, Mike nodded.

As if walking Leah to dinner, he offered his arm—the bare arm she couldn’t stop drooling over. His hopes for the evening amounted to very little more than worshiping her body, but having her appreciate him in return gave him a crisp thrill. Pleasing her in any way, even with something as basic as how he looked, tingled down his spine.

He was going to have a fucking hell of a time riding his bike with a hard-on.

Valets brought the motorcycles around, looking mildly ridiculous in their matched uniforms. Their smiles made Mike laugh. Just two young guys doing their workaday job in Sin City. He was glad the bikes gave them a grin.

Leah caught his eye, sharing his mirth. She was just plain
fun
. Six years ago, her every waking breath had been plans and strategies and the hard edge of ambition. In truth, it had left him cold. Now he could almost forget what awaited them both come Tuesday morning. Him in a simulator. Her in charge.

She shrugged into her flight jacket, as if unconsciously reinforcing Mike’s realization. Pilot. Colleague.

Boredom was making them both fools.

“Leah?”

Pausing, her hands wrapped around her helmet, she tossed loose hair over her shoulder. God, she’d do that if she were riding him—that sharp flick. He swallowed back a groan.

“What?” she asked. “Chickening out? That doesn’t bode well for your future as an Aggressor.”

He grinned at that. She had no idea.

Screw it. Tuesday was a long-ass ways away.

Jacket on, helmet on, he gunned the throttle. One of the valets gave him a thumbs-up, which made him grin all over again. He angled his bike around the semicircular driveway. Leah’s squealing engine revved in reply, right on his tail.

The Strip was almost painfully bright, all neon and shimmer. Leah rode beside him. Her posture was taut and low as if she’d been the professional motocross racer, not her dad. Did she take nothing by half measures?

For the sake of their evening together, Mike hoped not.

The traffic thinned as they continued back toward base, giving him time enough to wonder if he’d read her wrong. Maybe his hard-up arousal had been feeding him signs that weren’t there. She was just fucking with him. It wasn’t like she had any idea what really awaited her at his place.

No whips, unless you counted the corded tassels on his flogger.

No chains, unless you counted the locks on his wrist restraints.

And none of that was meant for her.

If a woman didn’t go for power, the whole prospect might seem damn strange, or even a turn-off. He hadn’t made that mistake since meeting Georgia, but he didn’t like the idea of misreading Leah so badly. The evening wouldn’t be a complete loss, no matter what happened, but the hard ache in his chest and the itch under his skin wanted more than a passable hump.

If for no other reason, he wanted her to know how much he’d changed. He knew they could be amazing together.

The pink terror of a bike zipped past him. Leah flipped him off then gunned it again. Mike laughed. He couldn’t hear it and could barely feel it, but his laugh was deep and rich. Doubt fizzled to nothing. If ever there were a woman who liked being in charge, it was Princess Leah.

He leaned low over his BMW and let the engine get its growl on. Easily he pulled alongside her and even edged ahead before backing off. The power was there. The sheer blunt muscle. He didn’t need to blow her out of the water to make the point.

A minute later they hauled ass out of the city. The environs just outside Nellis were the type preferred by military the world over, tidy and small. Mike turned on to a side street, amused when Leah had to double back to follow. A few wan streetlights seemed like caveman times compared to the glare of Las Vegas Boulevard.

He steered into his driveway. Leah killed her engine almost in tandem, leaving the night air of that tiny neighborhood suddenly quiet. Her laugh followed as she stripped off her helmet. “Shit, that was fun.”