Loving the Odds (What Happens in Vegas) (6 page)

“I was taught that a lady should never swear, but sometimes the best thing you can do is say fuck. It’s very stress relieving.” Bailey’s eyes shimmered like a lightning storm.

How anyone had thought this woman was boring or a prude was beyond him.

“Fuck!” Lance stretched the word out long and loud. “You know what, you’re right.”

She backed up on the bed, kicking the pillows out of the way, and grabbed the headboard. “What do you think? How about we give this bed a work out?”

“Hell, yeah.”

They rattled the board and Bailey thumped her palm against the wall for good measure. “You’re noisy in bed.” She grinned cheekily.

“You have no fucking idea,” he said under his breath. His whole body was primed for her; his cock was like a steel rod and his palms itched.

But he wasn’t going to give in, not tonight. When he slept with a woman, it was because she wanted to be with him, not because she was hurt or sad or trying to be competitive. He wasn’t anyone’s second choice.

If Bailey decided to come into his bed, it would be the two of them only. No competition from the room next door, no lingering worries about her ex. Which meant for now, it wasn’t going to happen.

Chapter Six

Lance woke up with a hard-on from hell. After he and Bailey finished their sexy noises prank, they’d watched a movie on his bed. Then he’d ordered a cot for her to sleep on since she’d refused his offer for her to have the bed. It’d been hard not to notice the way she looked at him, hungry and hot and wanting. But he’d stuck to his morals and put her to bed with nothing more than a kiss on the cheek.

Now his dick had decided to take revenge. Seriously, he was hard enough to drill holes through concrete.

“Do you want the bathroom?” Bailey asked as she collected her new clothes and carefully cut the tags off with a pair of nail scissors.

“Ladies first.” Better that she vacate the room so he could stand up without her seeing him tent his jocks. As it was, he had to bend his knees up under the sheets and pretend he was happy sitting there so she didn’t think he was some kind of sex-starved perv.

Once she’d disappeared into the bathroom, he got up and stretched his arms above his head. Rather than thinking about his current state of arousal, he needed a plan for the day. He was supposed to have breakfast with Janet so they could go over the details for the Take Two luncheon tomorrow. What if he brought Bailey along? A man in love wouldn’t leave his other half alone for breakfast, would he?

The sad fact was, he didn’t know. Love wasn’t something that he’d ever experienced, at least not beyond the platonic love he had for family and close friends. Sadder still was the fact that he wanted nothing more than to find the right girl and settle down, but that didn’t mean he’d settle for anything less than perfect. Or compromise his values.

Hence the hard-on from hell.

Bailey came out of the bathroom a moment later, dressed in a dark blue sleeveless dress that skimmed her small hips and had a modest
V
neckline. She’d pulled her hair up the same as yesterday and black-rimmed glasses sat on her pert nose. The whole look was professional and serious. It was completely at odds with the cheeky girl who’d jumped on the bed with him last night. And now that he knew her better, he felt as if the outfit was a front. A shield.

“What do you think?” she asked, twirling around.

“You look prim and proper. Perfect to play the role of my serious, responsible girlfriend.” He’d meant it as a compliment but she wrinkled her nose.

“That sounds about as exciting as a gluten-free muffin.”

“What? That’s what we were going for, isn’t it?”

“I guess.” She smoothed her hands down the dress.

“You’d look lovely in a paper bag.” He laid a hand on her bare shoulder. “Honestly, you could walk outside in that T-shirt I loaned you last night and be the hottest girl in the room.”

Her eyes widened but she covered it with an animated scoffing sound. “I know full well what you do for a living, Lance. Don’t think you can use those manipulative tricks on me.”

“Don’t challenge me, Bailey. I’ll drag your ass up to any man downstairs and they’ll agree with me.”

She took a step back. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I would. So take the damn compliment, would you.” He gave her arm a squeeze. “You’re hot. Deal with it.”

She mumbled something under her breath but they didn’t have time to further debate her appearance. Breakfast started in half an hour and he needed to wash the tension from his limbs…among other places.

…

Bailey pottered around the hotel room, trying to distract herself while Lance showered. Her mind kept tempting her with naughty suggestions, like needing to grab something from the bathroom. Right now.

It wouldn’t be her fault if she happened to glance in the direction of his naked body, right? He couldn’t possibly look as good under those clothes as what her imagination had drawn. Because her mind had created an image that was beyond perfection.

There was no denying what she’d felt last night, with her fists curled into his T-shirt and her legs pressed against his. Then there was the jumping on the bed thing. The way he’d cried out her name in mock ecstasy. What would it sound like as he called her name in real ecstasy? How would it feel to be pinned beneath him as he drove into her over and over?

“Stop it,” she said to herself. She’d only purchased two extra pairs of panties last night and she could not afford to ruin one now.

But Lance Fulton was driving her undeniably and categorically crazy.

“You’re his serious and responsible girlfriend, remember?” she said, glaring at her reflection. “Not the hot, sexy, bombshell girlfriend. Or the fun, pretty, sweet girlfriend. You’re Bailey Rueben. Reliable, sensible, and
boring
.”

Tears pricked her eyes and she blinked them away quickly. The tiny pharmacy section of the hotel gift store only had regular mascara in stock, not the waterproof stuff she felt more secure in. Crying now would not only be embarrassing but they’d be late if she had to redo her makeup.

Suck. It. Up.

“Ready to go?” Lance walked out of the bathroom and a tantalizing waft of soap, aftershave, and man followed him in some kind of intoxicating cloud.

He’d put on a different suit today. This one was a pale gray, the high quality wool looked soft and touchable. Underneath, he wore a white shirt that was open at the collar. The lack of color made his eyes look brighter, greener. And the crisp shirt made his skin appear warm and tanned.

“Uh-huh.” Seems the scent had the same effect as his kiss. It was kind of sad how quickly she could be reduced to syllables.

They made their way down the hall and Bailey couldn’t help but shoot daggers at the door to Julian and Selena’s room as they walked past. The elevators were bustling already, each one that opened already half filled with hotel guests.

“We’ll have to squeeze into the next one,” Lance said, checking his watch. “We’re supposed to meet Janet now.”

“Sure.” Running her tongue along the inside of her lower lip, she nodded.

“How did you sleep?”

Oh, I don’t know. I spent half the night lying awake trying to convince myself not to crawl into your bed and the other half dreaming about what it would be like if we hadn’t been interrupted. Is there a girl equivalent to a wet dream? ’Cause I had it.

“Fine,” she said, sucking in a breath. “The cot was comfortable enough.”

“Good.” Another elevator dinged and they stepped in.

Bailey hugged her arms tight to her body but another hotel guest decided to push her way in at the last minute, forcing Bailey hard up against Lance. At least she
hoped
it was him.

She turned her head to check and sure enough her gaze snagged on the bare hint of his blond stubble. An arm wrapped around her waist and he hugged her back to him, fitting the curve of her bottom against his crotch.

“What are you doing?” she mouthed and he grinned.

“Can’t I hug my girlfriend in an elevator?”

And he thinks
I
give mixed signals.

Maybe he was warming up for the meeting with his boss, like a method actor getting into character. This was exactly why Bailey hated dating. All the games, the signals that needed to be interpreted, over analyzing every single little word…

Give her a master-level Sudoku any day.

But they weren’t dating. This was a onetime deal, a fake relationship as a means to an end. And yet she was still anxious and overstrung as if it were the real thing. The elevator arrived at ground floor and everyone filtered out.

Lance slipped his hand into hers. “Are you ready to play the role of the future Mrs. Fulton?”

“Are we supposed to be engaged?” Her lungs squeezed. “We haven’t even talked this through. I don’t know anything about you.”

How had she been too distracted to notice that little factor? Oh that’s right…kissing Lance. Seemed she’d fried a few brain cells. Permanently.

They hadn’t planned anything out, hadn’t gotten their stories straight or shared even the most basic of things about each other. Like favorite foods or star signs—not that she believed in them—or even where they were from.

“Relax, it’ll be fine. She’s not my mother and she won’t grill you.” He led them through the noisy lobby until they reached the café.

“Where are you from?” she said, a million other questions backing up in her mind like a highway car pile-up. “Are we serious? Have I met your family?”

“I live in San Francisco.” His words seemed slow in comparison to her machine-gun staccato.

“Me, too.”

“So we’re not long distance. That’s good.” They paused outside the café and he placed his hands on her arms, smoothing them up and down in a calming rhythm. Quieting the panic inside her with surprising effectiveness. “So we agreed that we’ve been dating for a month, right?”

“Right. I only broke up with Julian six weeks ago.”

“And he’s already dating someone else?” His brows narrowed.

“So am I now,” she said with a wan smile. “And, given what I caught him doing, there’s a chance they were dating before we even broke up.”

A horrible acidic feeling swirled in her stomach. She never thought she’d be the kind of person to get jealous—it didn’t seem to fit with the rest of her logical, fact-based way of thinking—but every time she thought about what she’d found, her body revolted. It was like she’d swallowed a snake and now it slithered in her stomach, twisting and turning and making her want to hurl.

The bad feelings weren’t totally caused by the breakdown of her relationship with Julian. She’d also cemented her fear that a long-term relationship wasn’t in her future. That she’d never get married, have kids. That she’d never be able to find her place in the world.

“He’s a dick, Bailey. You don’t deserve to be treated like that.”

“No one does,” she pointed out.

“That’s true. But you”—he gave her shoulders a squeeze—“are a total catch. Guys should be falling over their feet to worship you.”

“Oh, sure. That’ll happen when hell freezes over.” She’d meant for it to come out as a self-deprecating joke, but clearly all the bitterness she’d bottled up inside had given her words a sharp edge. “Why don’t I head back home and find my fairy wand. That should make everything better.”

Lance shook his head. “If you appreciated yourself more, others might follow suit.”

“Gimme a break. Don’t tell me I’m fake dating a male Oprah.” She swatted him and he laughed.

“You want the honest version? Because I’m not sure you can handle it.” The lines around his eyes softened as his smile slipped away. Heat built in her neck and chest as he stared at her, making the rest of the world evaporate like steam.

“Of course I can handle it.”

He pulled her in close and leaned his face down to hers, turning so that his mouth was right next to her ear. A shudder wracked her body as his lips brushed her skin.

“You’re so goddamn hot that I had a hard-on all night thinking about what I wanted to do instead of sending you off to sleep.” The words were quietly spoken, raw and rough against her ear in a way that seemed so unlike the rest of his polished persona.

A shiver raced along the length of Bailey’s spine. “What did you want to do?”

“I wanted to have you, Bailey. I wanted to take you bed and fuck you six ways from Sunday.”

Her eyes closed involuntarily as her thighs pressed together, failing to quell the dull thudding sensation between her legs. No one had ever spoken to her like that before. She wasn’t sure what to think, but her body knew
exactly
how it felt. What it wanted. What it
needed.

“Why didn’t you?”

“I’m not going to take advantage of your situation.” He brushed his thumb over her lips. “You’ve been hurt and you’re still recovering. I’m not the right guy for you at this point. I can’t commit to anything and I won’t because I hate going back on my word.”

“What if that’s exactly what I want right now?” She looped her arms around his neck, emboldened by his admission. Fueled by the knowledge and the novelty that he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

“I want you to know how desirable you are. Julian might have cheated on you, but it’s not your fault.” A crease formed between Lance’s brows. “You’re gorgeous and you
will
find a guy who appreciates you.”

“What if I just want a guy who’s going to make me feel good?”

Something was definitely messing with her head. Maybe it was the Vegas lights, the over-stimulating colors and sounds, or the night of fitful sleep. But she needed Lance like a plant needed sunshine and water.

“Aim higher,” he said, loosening his grip and tugging her toward the café. “I’m not your guy.”

…

What the hell was he thinking saying all of those things to Bailey? His mouth was writing checks his body desperately wanted to cash. But he couldn’t offer anything beyond a flash in the pan fling. He didn’t have it in him to be with someone long-term. Was there such a thing as relationship ADD? Because self-diagnosis was imminent.

While he may not know Bailey all that well, he knew one thing for certain. She deserved a man who was going to lay himself on the line for her.

And stay there.

“Good morning,” Janet said, her eyes darting from Bailey to him and back again.

“I hope you don’t mind me tagging along, I was going to get breakfast somewhere else but Lance said it was silly for me to eat alone.” She flashed his boss a charming smile that damn near melted his resolve. “If that’s okay?”

“Of course.” Janet waved a hand as if brushing aside Bailey’s concerns. “You’re more than welcome if you can handle the boring shop talk.”

“Why don’t I go and order our coffees. What do you feel like?” Bailey remained standing and put a hand on his shoulder as he took the seat next to his boss.

“A tall Americano and a pastry of some sort. You know what I like,” he added for good measure.

She leaned down and pressed her lips to his temple before walking off and he couldn’t help but let his eyes follow. Her new dress might be a touch conservative, but even it couldn’t hide the sweet curve of her ass as she walked away. His hands burned with the memory of last night as he’d pressed her to him, taking his fill before decency had been thrust upon him.