Under the Boardwalk (Costas Sisters 1)

But brief contact wasn’t enough. Quinn was already hot with wanting her. Desire fueled him as he leaned over and finished what she’d started. She immediately parted her lips and he found her mouth warm and moist. Her tongue locked with his. She was so giving, so ready for him, he almost told the driver to turn around and head back to his house.

Making love to a woman there would be his first, but he reminded himself that tonight was about Ari and giving her the freedom to let go and explore her inner self. And so he sat back against the seat, breathing heavily, giving the intense need a chance to subside.

He glanced over while she reapplied her red lipstick. He started to wipe his lips with the back of his hand, laughing when he saw the swipes of dark color on his skin.

“Let me.” With a tissue, she cleaned the remnants of lipstick off Quinn’s mouth with shaking hands.

If she continued to touch him, with her scent so powerful and her cleavage too close to his lips, his restraint would vanish along with his good intentions. Thank God the car pulled up to the front of the hotel and reality intruded in the form of glittering neon lights and an attendant who opened the car door.

After that, the evening went just as he’d planned. Dinner was an intimate meal with a rooftop view of the ocean and a close-up view of his date. She’d chosen a strapless dress in a deep blue with a plunging neckline that had him drooling.

She glowed with confidence. It was obvious she knew how her sex appeal affected him, and she teased him mercilessly. But more than once, she paused in thought, as if shocked by her open actions. Feeding him a shrimp from her shrimp cocktail, her eyes opened wide as if to ask, Who is this uninhibited woman? All he’d had to do to bring her back was to continue the playful moment—nip her fingertip with his teeth, soothe with his tongue—and she was back in what he thought of as her Ari mood and persona. Seeing how happy she was with him, he wondered how she’d lived so long hiding behind the suits and uptight facade.

She flirted and teased, her fingers walking up his thigh beneath the table as she whispered in his ear. They danced to a slow song the band played and he held her tight, unwilling to let her overthink and pull away because Ariana would act more appropriately in public. They shared coffee and a fruit tart for dessert, and not even Damon, sitting a table away viewing them with undisguised interest, seemed to dim her enjoyment or enthusiasm.

Quinn found equal pleasure in just watching her, and though he could have stayed in their private booth forever, he had more planned for her this evening. “Ready to hit the tables?”

She nodded.

Quinn placed his napkin down and rose to his feet.

“I’m not much of a gambler,” she admitted. “But I guess I could learn.”

The hesitancy was back, something Quinn wouldn’t allow. “Maybe Professor Costas isn’t a gambler, but the sexy lady in front of me certainly is.” He winked and extended his hand.

Without hesitation, she placed her palm in his and followed him to the elevators that took them back down to the casino. He exchanged money for chips, refusing to accept any cash she offered. “The night’s on me, remember?”

“I suppose you’ll expect payback later on?” she asked in a deliberately sultry, teasing voice.

“I’m certain I won’t say no.” He laughed but the sound was strained, his body was so overheated and hard. “So what will it be? Craps, baccarat, blackjack . . .”

“Slots?” she whispered, obviously embarrassed by her moderate choice.

If she expected him to tease her, she was in for disappointment. He merely turned back to the change windows and collected rolls of quarters instead.

He opened them into a bucket and handed her the large tub. “Let’s go pick a slot machine.”

He pulled two stools up to her chosen machine, then settled in to watch her in action. Popping one quarter at a time, Ari won some and she lost some, and gained confidence as time wore on. She yelled, cheered, and groaned, and an hour later, she was still almost even. She was a determined gambler, the adrenaline from hoping for that next big hit keeping her parked at the machine, refusing to move.

“Ready to switch to the tables?” Quinn asked. No matter how much he enjoyed watching her, he was ready for a different kind of action.

She bit down on her lower lip as the question took on enormous proportions. Finally she shook her head. “Nope. Can’t do it. Can you imagine if I walk away and somebody else sits down and this thing spits out millions?”