“But they don’t know that I can still taste you,” he said.
“Cade—”
“Those guys over there just got one helluva view when you leaned forward,” he continued. His hand went to her waist and glided up her torso. “Lean back.”
She rested her head against his shoulder, offering him a peek beneath her cover-up. “I like to look, too,” he said. His fingers teased the neckline of her cover-up. “But I want more. I want to take you back to your room, ask you to close your eyes and pretend all of these people are watching while I pour champagne over your tits and lick them clean.”
She tried to focus on the game. If she didn’t, she might be tempted to strip off her clothes and beg him to take her here.
“After I get you wet…” he continued, “I want to cross number one off my list. I want to slide between your breasts until I come.” He drew a path to the center of her chest.
“Yes,” she said, struggling to maintain a calm expression.
“Awfully stoic for someone who just won,” the dealer said.
“Won?” She looked at the table as the dealer added the piles of chips she’d bet. “Oh my God, Cade, I didn’t lose your money. I more than doubled it.”
She did a celebratory dance, shifting her hips from side to side as she leaned forward to gather her winnings. Behind her, Cade groaned, and his hands glided down her sides until he had a firm hold on her hips.
“Gather your chips,” he ordered, and the heels of his hands pressed against her ass. “It’s time to move on to the next stop on your tour.”
“And this time the clothes come off?” she asked, standing up, her hands filled with chips.
“Yes.” His gaze lingered on her chest. “But not in the way you’re thinking.”
Chapter Twelve
The cab inched down the Vegas Strip toward their hotel. Out the window to her right, the Eiffel Tower—miniature version though it was—glimmered under the afternoon sun.
“Are you going to give me a hint about what’s waiting for us back at the hotel?” Lucia asked.
He sat with his arms crossed, his hands hidden behind his military-issued biceps. While she appreciated the view, he hadn’t touched her since they’d left the casino. After he’d spelled out his down and dirty desires by the craps table, he’d kept his hands to himself.
“The anticipation is killing me,” she added.
Of where he’ll touch me next… How his hands will move over my skin… What he’ll ask of me…
“Do you like surprises?” he asked.
“Sometimes,” she said. “But not when they pile up like this.”
He cocked his head and furrowed his brow. “Pile up?”
“I don’t know where we’re going.” She angled her body to face him and placed her hand on his thigh. “For all I know, you might ask for number one right here in the cab.”
His jaw tightened as his gaze dropped to her chest. “I can’t. It would ruin my plan for the rest of the day.”
“Which is?” she prompted, running her hand up his thigh. “You told the driver to take us back to the hotel. Is it number four in the shower? Or do you want a repeat of number three?”
“If I touch you now, it’ll be number two in the back of a cab,” he growled, the muscles in his thigh contracting beneath her touch. “Hell, I’m tempted to rent a limo with a divider and tinted windows just to get you on your hands and knees while we drive around Vegas.”
“We could use my winnings.” She brushed her hand against the part of his body she was dying to free from his board shorts.
“I have plans for your money.”
“Tell me,” she insisted.
“I want pleasure to dictate your life until you step foot on that plane tomorrow, not fear of what others think,” he said. “You deserve to feel worshipped. From head to toe.” He caught her hand and lifted her fingers to his lips. As he brushed a soft kiss over her knuckles, the cab pulled up in front of their hotel.