Endless Nights (Vegas Nights 2)

Oh crap, what was he doing? She swallowed hard, her mind racing to the worst possibilities, of course. If he brought back a friend, she would freak the hell out. If he had a camera, or whipped out his cell phone and snapped a photo of her like this, she’d kick his ass. Seriously. It didn’t matter if he was made like a freaking mountain—she’d use her heels and kick him where it hurt a man the most.

But she had a feeling he wasn’t going to do anything bad to her. Or if it was bad, she would enjoy every naughty minute of it.

No, really, she knew it was going to be good. So, so freaking good that she’d probably never forget it.

Ever.

“Damn, you look pretty like that, waiting for me in the panties and heels.”

Andrea glanced over her shoulder to find Luke standing mere feet away from her, hands in the front pockets of his jeans, as casual as he pleased. Though his cheeks had a distinct ruddiness to them. And his mouth was swollen. Oh, and other things looked swollen too.

Like the front of his jeans.

“Um.” She paused, licked her lips and noticed the heat flaring in his gaze. This was heady stuff, how easily she affected him. “Where did you go?”

He pulled his right hand out of his pocket, a condom wrapper clutched between his fingers. “Wanted to grab one of these.”

She arched a brow. Crap, did he always pack condoms with him in the hopes of getting laid? Protection was best. Protection was smart, but she wasn’t sure how she felt about all this. Uneasiness slid down her spine, and she turned away, facing out the window once more.

The air shifted between them, filled with tension—and not necessarily the good kind. She hung her head and took a deep breath, her hands still braced on the window. She felt him draw near, his body heat reached out toward her, as well as his delicious scent. His hand touched her lower back, fingers drifting, and she shivered despite herself.

“They were in the bathroom,” he said. “The hotel provided them.”

“Oh.” She swallowed hard, feeling like an idiot. Of course he came to Vegas to get laid. He was famous. Rich. Handsome. He could own this town and all the pretty young things with a snap of his fingers.

This realization didn’t make her feel any better.

“Can I confess something to you?”

“Um, sure?” She really hoped this was a good confession. Not a I’m-a-serial-killer-type reveal.

His touch grew firmer, his hands sliding around her waist, gripping her. “I haven’t been with a woman in…a while.”

This revelation should not make her feel good. But it did. “Really?”

“Yeah.” He nestled his solid, warm body close to hers, and she let out a shivery breath at first contact. She couldn’t wait to feel him press her into the mattress, his body totally engulfing hers. Her skin was on fire just thinking about it.

“Can I ask why?” Or maybe she didn’t want to know.

“Hadn’t found anyone who interested me.” He said it casually, like no big deal, but it felt like a big deal to her. That no one had interested superstar Luke Nelson until…her?

Get out of town.

“But somehow I interested you?” She had to ask. Had to know. Needed to hear more because he was blowing her mind here.

“Oh yeah. Definitely. Such a pretty face, so sweet, a nurse, for Christ’s sake. A nurse wearing the most sinful dress I’d ever seen.” He slid his hands around to her belly, one trailing lower, lower still, until his fingers slipped beneath the front of her panties and touched her pubic hair, then went further until he gently caressed her wet flesh. She sucked in a harsh breath and held it, lifting her hips to give him better access. “Hmm, you’re soaked.”

She had no words. The men she’d been with in her past didn’t make comments about the condition of her private parts. There were usually a bunch of groans and grunts and on occasion an enthusiastic “oh yeah”, but that was about the gist of it.

Luke was touching her boldly, his hand between her legs, fingers searching her folds, an appreciative hum sounding from deep in his chest. That sound, his touch, his body surrounding hers, all of it made her wetter, hotter, and she leaned back against him, rubbing her butt against his front, earning a deep male groan for her efforts.

“Tease,” he whispered, though he didn’t sound upset. And how could she be upset when his hand worked so diligently beneath her panties, his assured fingers knowing just how to stroke her, circling and flicking her clit. Anticipation swam through her veins, making her tense up, her breath coming in shuddery breaths. She was close, so close. Extra close…

“Not yet.” He withdrew his hand from her panties and she sagged against him, trying to calm her racing heart. She teetered on the edge, she was so sensitive, so primed. Why in the world did he stop?

“Now who’s the tease?” she accused, her voice weak. It was only when her panties fell to her knees did she realize he was taking them off. She stepped out of them, squealing when he dropped to his knees, raining kisses all over her butt. His fingers dipped close, toying with her, and she arched her back, not caring anymore what she looked like, what he thought, or how she was behaving.

She wanted his mouth on her. Now.