Ace of Hearts (Vegas Underground 3)

The glances she steals tell me the attraction’s still there for her, too. Hell, the sex we had yesterday in that airport bathroom was off the charts hot. I’d be lying if I said I’m not dying for a repeat.

I also realize how unlikely and unwise that would be.

Do I want to teach her thirty more lessons about what it’s like to take my cock in every orifice? Yes. Yes, I do. And I’m one-hundred percent certain she would enjoy every minute of those lessons. The girl is kinked, and I know exactly how to give it to her.

But she’s scared of me and pissed off about what I represent, and who can blame her? I’m definitely the enemy here.

And if I’m going to deliver on this job, I need to get a little distance.

Otherwise, I’m going to be the one owing the Tacones 900 grand.

I pull into the Bellissimo, but Pepper doesn’t move to get out. “What’s up, songbird? You wanna go somewhere else?”

She turns her beautiful face to me, her skin almost as pale as the platinum hair, her dark-lined eyes big and warm. She’s like a fairy or a sprite. A quirky feminine spirit in a halter top, skinny jeans and a different pair of Doc Martens. Ones with skulls on them. I don’t even know what she was doing at the pool. I don’t think she’s wearing a swimsuit under that top.

She nods and writes on her notepad. I’m so sick of being with the same people, holed up in another hotel.

“I get it. Okay. There’s a million things to do in Vegas. I could take you to a show. Magic or dance or music. There’s carnival type stuff; the largest Ferris wheel and shit like that.”

She writes, music.

“Music? Yeah? I thought you’d be sick of that, too.” I pull out my phone and search for who’s playing where. I show her the list. Her face lights up and she taps on a gig The Sores are playing. They’re a British rock band from the late seventies, a key player in the British punk movement.

I chuckle. Of course she loves punk. I hadn’t noticed before, but I hear the echoes of it in some of her early music. The music that broke her into the mainstream with a bang. “You got it. We have a little time. Want to change your clothes or go like that?”

She opens the car door as her answer.

I don’t know why I find every thing she does so damn cute.

Pepper

There’s a downright spring in my step as Tony accompanies me up to my suite. I can’t remember the last time I was excited to do anything. Even perform, which I truly love.

I expect Tony to drop me off, but he comes in. I guess it makes sense, considering last time I made a point of changing in front of him. I throw open my closet and pick out a strapless black lace sheath. I kick off my boots.

Tony doesn’t turn his back like a gentleman, he watches my every move, his eyes glued to my body, lids heavy as I pull off my top and shimmy out of my jeans. The room is charged with sexual tension, air crackling and snapping between us.

A riff starts to play in my head. Words twist in my ear. It’s the first time my muse has shown up in ages.

My nipples tighten up. I’m standing there in nothing but my cotton panties when I straighten and face him. I can’t quite bring myself to make a move. That feels wrong. Because he’s not my boyfriend, or even my date.

He’s my keeper.

And I want him to take from me.

Without me having to give.

Somehow, like every time, he seems to know exactly what I want. He takes his jacket off and tosses it on a chair, then unbuttons his sleeve cuffs and rolls them up. “I believe I promised you a spanking yesterday if you spoke.”

He loosens his tie. “And you did speak, didn’t you, songbird?”

My panties dampen, lips part.

He stalks forward, pulling his tie out of his collar and grabs one of my wrists. I’m too fascinated to even play at resisting as he binds it together with the other one and wraps them up tight with his tie.

Oh God, yes.

This. Please.

He slides his hands down my waist and cups my ass. When he squeezes my cheeks roughly, I press my body against his, rub my bare breasts against his ribs.

He mutters something that sounds like fanculo, and slides his hands inside my panties, down my bare hips, forcing the fabric to lower to my thighs.

My belly flutters as I suddenly remember that his last spanking hurt as much as it turned me on. I consider begging him to be gentle, but forget it when he cups my mons, sliding a finger along my juicy slit.