Maybe that was his loneliness talking. Avoiding relationships, focusing on his job—it came at a cost. Sure, he had his dog and his friends, but for one weekend he’d like to take a break from the solitude his situation demanded.
After watching Lucia lick strawberries while his dick begged to join the party and reading her list, he wanted—strike that, needed—to spend a night or two with a woman who wanted what he had to give but wasn’t asking for a future. He could find a willing partner in Sin City then go back to duty, his need slaked for now. But that wouldn’t do. Not anymore. It couldn’t be just any woman.
It had to be the woman in front of him. The beautiful yet shy Lucia who’d taken a chance and stepped outside her comfort zone despite the insecurities he saw rising to the surface with each passing second. If he didn’t say something soon, he’d bet she’d run for the door.
She didn’t realize it, but she was triggering every protective instinct he had.
“I’m willing, gorgeous,” he said, his gaze moving down the list to numbers three and four.
3) An orgasm. In public.
4) Give a man a blowjob that will leave him begging for another.
He closed his eyes. After watching her eat chocolate, he had a feeling she would excel at number four.
“Cade?” she said.
He heard the uncertainty in her voice. He opened his eyes, folded the note, and slipped it into the pocket of his rented tux jacket.
I’m going to hell for this.
He took her hand and laced his fingers through hers. Then he drew her away from the fountain, his hand on her elbow, and guided them to the exit.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“To cross number three off your list.”
Chapter Three
Lucia followed Cade, the Navy SEAL she’d known for about five minutes, through the maze
of card tables and slot machines. He stopped beside the trash bin bearing the hotel’s logo, removed his simple black mask, and tossed it inside.
“I think I’ll keep mine on,” she said, her voice light and playful even though her nerves were a rioting mess.
In the restaurant, she’d felt brave and daring. But out here, under the casino’s bright lights, the web of emotions that had left her sealed in Tennessee—terrified to be herself unless it was on the canvas—blocked the way.
She stopped beside a bar lined with touch-screen machines. “Maybe we should have a drink first.”
Cade smiled and gently pulled on her hand. “Then we’re going to the perfect place.”
The sound of his voice was like a drug. Irresistible. They walked past the hotel gift shop and turned a corner. Velvet ropes lined one side of the hallway and led to a nightclub. The hypnotic beat of the music poured through the doors.
“Number three,” she whispered. “In there?”
“Gorgeous, I’m not going to walk you into the club, make you come, and jump to the next item,” he murmured in her ear, holding her at his side as they waited for the bouncer to check IDs. “I’m going to get you wet, excited, and ready first.”
“Oh.” She fumbled with the clasp on her purse. “How?”
He smiled, took her driver’s license, and held it out to the bouncer. Then he led the way into the club’s cave-like entrance. “Trust me, I know a thing or two about wild Vegas nights.”
She followed him to the long bar. It was still early, but people filled the space, most clutching a drink. The women wore tight, short dresses—the Vegas uniform. But in here, she was the only one wearing a mask.
Her hand touched her covered cheek. She couldn’t take it off, not if she wanted to follow her plan to the end.
“I have rules,” she said.
He nodded. “I’m listening.”