Sinful Ever After (Sinful Serenade Book 5) (34 page)

One stands out.

It's perfect.

It's enough to convince her.

––––––––

J
ess

We wake at an ungodly hour—it’s so early the sky is still lit by neon rather than by the sun—eat breakfast in our hotel room, and take a cab to the Stratosphere Hotel.

Pete tries to play coy. Well, my fiancé pulls off mysterious well. He very much succeeds at playing coy. Still, I get the feeling there's something up his sleeve.

The horrifying hour of the day gives it away. No normal person would awake before eight A.M., especially in Sin City.

Thankfully, the early hour means the casino is quiet. Well, quiet by casino standards.

We're here for the main attraction—the viewpoint at the top of the hotel's hundred-something-story tower. I have to admit, it will be nice watching the sun rise over the desert. It would be nicer watching the sun rise from our hotel room, especially if we were naked in bed—

Dammit, when did I become such a sex-crazed maniac? Before Pete, I thought about sex a few times a day. Like a normal person. My ex, Nathan, wasn't exactly Casanova, but it was pleasant enough. Occasionally, I craved it. But now, I can't get enough of it.

No, that's not right.

I can't get enough of Pete.

There's no line for the observation tower at this time of day. But there is someone else in the clean, white elevator. He's wearing a bright blue hotel vest emblazoned with the hotel's name. He looks at Pete with recognition in his eyes, but he speaks only about the history of the tower and the city.

I absorb nothing. It's much too early for history. I rest my head against Pete's chest and soak in the feeling of his arms around mine. We don't have enough time together. I need every second of it. I need every ounce of him.

My ears pop three times during our ascent. I take a deep breath and swallow hard. There. That's better.

The elevator stops at the floor for the observation deck.

Pete squeezes my hand. His palm is usually cool and steady. Right now, it's not.

He's sweating.

He presses his lips together and shifts his weight between his feet.

He's nervous.

Why?

He looks at me with an utterly inscrutable expression. "You ready?"

"Ready for coffee." I smile. "But the view should be nice too."

"There's a rollercoaster. You want to look down 100 floors?" he asks.

"One hundred and eight floors," the elevator guy corrects. "There's also a slingshot ride at the very top of the tower. You get a 360-view of the strip. We have a great all-inclusive package. You can purchase it at the gift shop."

Pete smiles at me. "What do you say, baby? You want extra thrills today?"

It's too early in the morning for thrills. "I'll think about it."

There's a lightness to his expression, but there's no mistaking the nervous energy in his eyes. He shoves his hand into his pocket, takes it out, tries his back pocket, takes it out.

Has he ever been this nervous?

I don't think so.

What the hell is he up to? And why is he up to it this early in the morning?

The elevator boy is looking at us expectantly. Okay, we've been standing here for long enough. I squeeze Pete's hand and lead him onto the observation deck. Half of it is inside. The other half is outside the glass doors.

The view of the city is gorgeous. The sky is a soft shade of blue. The sunrise casts orange over half the sky. The other half is bright with the neon lights of the casinos.

This early, there are only about half-dozen people here— a few tipsy frat boys laughing over tchotchkes in the gift shop and a family of tourists in matching
Las Vegas, Nevada
t-shirts.

At first, Pete's whole
we're normal
thing didn't make any sense. Normal people don't swoon over cactus holiday gardens. They certainly don't have sex in public bathrooms at cactus holiday gardens.

But right now, this feels normal. A very Las Vegas kind of normal. We're up high enough that nothing else can get to us. No one— not family or friends or fans—knows where we are.

The world is ours.

There's some brave soul on the observation deck. It looks cold out there. But the guy is wearing something warm. A coat. No, a cape.

A white, studded cape.

He turns, and everything shifts into focus. He's an Elvis impersonator. Huh? That's strange, but in a
totally normal for Las Vegas
kind of way.

Pete slides his arm around my waist. "You want to say hello to The King?"

Uh... Why not? "Sure."

Pete chuckles, but there's something different about it. He's still nervous.

I study his expression. He's actually blushing. My goodness, is it hard to do anything but stare at his flushed cheeks. I nearly walk into the glass door.

Deep breath. I can ogle my fiancé later. Say when we aren't a few thousand feet above ground.

He pulls the door open for me. "After you." His voice is confident, but that nervousness is still there.

I force myself to focus on my footsteps. It's cold out here. Really cold. That's one way to wake up. Goosebumps spread over my neck. My eyes nearly burst open.

The Elvis impersonator looks to us. "Hello, Little Lady. Are you Miss Jessica James?"

What the hell? I look to Pete for a clue, but his expression gives nothing away.

"Yes, I am." I cinch my coat tighter.

Elvis looks to Pete. "And are you Mr. Peter Steele?"

"I am." Pete smiles.

"Just call me The King." The man is doing his best impersonation of Elvis Presley's exaggerated drawl. "Now, I hear the two of ya'll are getting married right here, right now."

What? "We are?"

Pete nods. "It's not legally binding."

Okay...

Elvis steps in. "It's our 'I Was Just Kidding' package. You get the entire ceremony without any of the legality."

I Was Just Kidding Package?
God, Vegas is a weird place. But that does sound familiar. I could swear I read a few signs on casino wedding chapels—marriage was on my mind all day yesterday—that offered some version of a just for fun ceremony.

Because everyone associates weddings with fun and not with stress and family drama.

"You can back out." Pete slides his arms around my waist. "But I want to show you how special this can be, even if it's the two of us, and Elvis, in our jeans at the crack of dawn. What matters isn't the decorations or the venue. It's the two of us promising each other forever."

My heart threatens to melt. His words are sweet and his voice is earnest.

I know he loves me, that he wants to marry me. But I'm still not entirely convinced of his motives here.

He's used to getting his way.

Still, I'll play along. It sounds sweet. I nod. "Okay. I'm willing to try."

The King guides us into position. Of course, he's the officiant. "Alright, darling, it's real cold out here. So I'll make this quick. We're gathered here at the top of the Stratosphere to celebrate a really beautiful love. Now, I hear ya wrote your own vows."

Pete nods.

"But I... I didn't know." I shake my head. This is ridiculous. We're having an impromptu fake wedding. Of course I don't have vows.

"You can wing it, baby." He squeezes my hand.

Okay, I can do that.

My lips curl into a smile. I love how ridiculous this is. I love that he's trying to show me what he feels for me rather than trying to convince me he's right.

It feels like the sky is lighter already. It's a softer shade of blue. It's more streaked with orange.

The wind howls. It
is
cold. Just like at the cactus garden, I can barely feel the chill of the air. I'm too overwhelmed by the warmth of his love for me.

I take back anything I said about us being normal.

My fiancé is not a normal man. But I love him even more for what a weirdo he is.

Pete stares into my eyes. Already, he's blushing. "I'm not an eloquent guy. Even when I write a song, the words are simple. I don't know how to make words into something beautiful. The best I can do is speak from my heart."

His gaze goes to the sky as his cheeks get pinker.

Damn, he's never this shy. Ever. It's incredibly endearing.

He lets out a nervous laugh then his eyes are back to mine. "I was broken when I met you. I didn't know what I wanted. I didn't know how to turn the world into a place that made sense. It used to be that I could pick up my bass and everything would click into place. But that had stopped. For the first time, I didn't know where I belonged. I didn't know what I wanted. The first time I made you smile, I knew what I wanted. I wanted more of your smile. I wanted more of your laugh. I wanted more of your satisfaction, every fucking kind of satisfaction. I didn't ever want to fall in love again. But you stole my heart. Now I can't think of anything I want more than knowing you're mine forever."

My heart does melt. I'm warm everywhere.

His eyes bore into mine. "I guess that's a really selfish vow, but it's true. I want to spend my life making you happy. I'm going to spend my life making you happy, whatever it takes."

He's blushing still, but his eyes aren't nervous anymore. They're filled with a delicious mix of excitement and enthusiasm.

My heart is beating so fast I can't keep up.

His words wash over me. He
is
eloquent. Maybe it's not a typical, MFA in poetry kind of eloquence, but the rawness of his words is beautiful.

I squeeze his hand. "I don't know how to follow that."

He smiles. "Usually, I let you go first."

Nerves flee my body as I laugh. Of course he's making a sex joke at a time like this.

Of course I'm laughing off the tension in my shoulders.

He always puts me at ease.

Okay, I'm winging this. I can do that. I take a deep breath as I collect my thoughts. "I remember thinking that I'd never met anyone like you. Now, I'm sure there isn't anyone in the world like you. There's no one else who can make me laugh the way you do."

I build up my courage to force myself to look into his dark eyes.

"There's no one else who can make me come the way you do."

My cheeks burn, but I press on. I want to get everything I'm feeling out. He needs to know how much I love him.

"There's no one else who makes me feel easy and free. I'm not sure what my life is going to hold, but I know I always want a place for you in it. I want to fall asleep with you every night and wake up with you every morning. I want to do whatever it takes to hear your laugh in my ears. You make me stronger, and better, and I want to repay the favor every day for the rest of my life."

"Baby." He slides his arms around my waist. He moves closer. Then his lips are on mine.

My hands dig into his hair as I kiss him back.

Elvis objects, mumbling something about how we aren't at that part yet, but neither of us listens.

Every inch of me is on fire. He was right. The venue doesn't matter. The decorations don't matter. What matters is the two of us promising each other the world.

He's already given me the world.

I really do hope I can repay the favor.

When our kiss breaks, I'm panting. The sky
is
brighter now. The clouds glow with orange light.

"Usually, we wait to exchange rings and say I do," Elvis says. "But I can tell the two of you are ready to kiss some more."

Yes, we are. I nearly jump into Pete's arms, and I kiss him like the ship is going down.

His words are still washing over me.

Every part of me melts as he kisses me. When we're finished, I'm a puddle. I'm mush.

He looks into my eyes. His fingers skim my cheek. "What do you think?"

I nod. "Let's do it here. For real." My gaze goes to the Christmas lights strung up inside the deck. I hadn't noticed them before. "On Christmas."

"There's a private balcony a few floors down."

My smile gets wider. "Perfect."

"Let me take care of everything."

"Except the dress."

He nods. "Except the dress."

My heart is soaring. We're really getting married. It's really going to happen. And it's only a few days away.

I look up at him. "You mean all that?"

"Every word."

I tug at his t-shirt. It's much too early—and this is much too romantic—for my inhibitions to get in the way of words spilling from my lips. "I need you to fuck me. Somewhere I can scream your name as loudly as I want."

He slides his arm around my waist. "I have an idea. If you're game."

"Yeah?"

"I want to tie you up again."

The flush in my cheeks spreads all the way to my chest. "Oh."

"Want to force you to take all the pleasure I want to give you."

Well, when he says it like that.

I nod. "Hell yes."

––––––––

J
ess

The cab is crawling. The odometer reads
twenty-five miles per hour
, but that must be wrong. It must be the angle.

I need to be in our hotel room, in our bed, right away. My knees knock together. My feet tap the floor. My wedge boots are heavy enough that each tap is more of a thud. I make a note to myself to buy a nicer, lighter pair of boots, but it flies right out of my brain.

My brain is screaming
I need to be tied to his bed now
. Though it's not really his bed. It's not even our bed. It's the hotel bed.

Somehow, that makes it hotter, dirtier.

I'm always at his mercy, always under his command, but making it actual and physical—it's more than hot as hell. It's freeing, captivating, and intense.

Pete chuckles. "You ready for something?"

A pang of desire shoots straight to my core. I open my mouth to speak but words refuse to form.

Thoughts swirl around my head. There's a lot to consider. A wedding, even a straightforward wedding at a venue that does ten weddings a day, means decisions and stress. My family is arriving in two days. Then it's Christmas Eve. Then Christmas.

I said Christmas, that we'd get married on Christmas.