Locked Heart (Cash Me Outside 1)

Locke laughs. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Thorne might need an assistant. He complains about having to kick groupies out of hotel rooms the morning after. Says it makes him feel like a pimp and isn’t in his job description.”

“You guys actually make him do that?”

“Well, not so much anymore. He got smart and started coming in earlier and earlier. Seb finally said enough when Thorne interrupted mid-blowjob and said it was time to go.”

“Poor Seb.”

“In all seriousness, though. Whatever you choose to do, I know you’d rock it. Unless it was singing. Because, you know I love you, but your voice …” I screw up my face. “Not really a serenading kind of screech.”

Instead of laughing like I thought he would, Locke’s eyes bore into me. The intensity hits me with such force it takes a moment to realize I said I love him. Not loved him. But love him. Right now. And it fell out of my mouth so easily, like a reflex. Like muscle memory took over.

It was like it really was ten years ago and we were driving home from Death Valley after attending as patrons instead of me being a headliner.

Slipping into our old ways is as natural as my draw to him has always been.

As much as that is a good thing, it’s also fucking scary.

It puts pressure on these next few days, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to recover.

Being with Locke again might damn near kill me.

Chapter Eight

Locke

Nerves hit me as I pull into the parking garage behind the Catalina Resort and Casino.

I’m nervous about letting Cash into my life and him seeing … someone who’s not me. Or, not the boy he remembers.

My apartment is a small suite. It has hotel furnishings and no real touches of my personality.

And as soon as we step through the door, he notices it. I can tell.

“It’s only temporary,” I say.

“You haven’t been here long?”

I shake my head.

“What happened to your last place?”

I try to force the words to come out. My last place was my spouse’s. Ex-spouse. Because I was married.

Even though marrying Shannon was a mistake and we’re in the very last stages of the divorce proceedings, the thought of Cash standing at an altar and promising his life to someone else hurts my heart so hard, I don’t want to do that to him.

“It’s complicated.”

Cash and I have four days together. After that … I’ve got no idea. We need to live in the moment. Take this opportunity as a gift instead of what it is—a recipe for heartbreak.

“What do you want to do first?” I ask.

“Shower. Then hit the slots.”

“What you call me?” I exclaim.

“Come shower with me and I might repeat it.” The heat in Cash’s eyes never fails to get me going.

The image of me on my knees in the shower and proving my deep-throating skills flashes through my mind, and there’s no way I won’t be doing that.

“Fine. Shower. But we’re not spending the whole four days in this room having sex.”

“Hmm, we’ll see.” Cash starts undressing on his way to the bathroom, and damn it, we’re so going to be spending the next four days fucking.

It takes Cash no time at all to come down my throat. I remember everything that used to do it for him, remember the way he tastes, but most of all, I remember the look of awe in his eyes when he’d stare down at me, watching as his cock disappeared between my lips.

None of it has changed.

When we do finally manage to drag our asses out of the shower, he dresses in dark jeans and a plain black tee and throws on his leather jacket, while I don my black dress pants and a button-down.

“I feel overdressed,” I say.

“You look overdressed. I suggest taking off the pants and shirt.”

“Not what I mean, and you know it.”

“You look hot enough to fuck,” Cash says. “Wanna stay in and do that instead?”

I laugh. “You will not win this. We’re Vegas’ing it up, baby.”

“If you insist, but I have a way we can make it go by superfast.”

“Yeah?”

“We set a limit we’re allowed to spend on each game. So, like, we can only put five hundred into the slots. A grand at any of the tables. Once we lose, we move on.”

My mouth might be hanging open right now. “Sure, but you might want to reduce those bets to say fifty and a hundred bucks?”

“Ooh, you’re right. The less money, the quicker we do everything so we can come back here and fuck.”

“I meant because that’s more in my budget, but that aside, you literally came ten minutes ago. Do you really need to go again?”

Cash steps closer to me and presses his impressive chest against mine. “I only have you for four days. I’m going to come as many times as I can.”