Deep (Stage Dive 4) - Page 18

“Bite me.”

“It’s late, Lizzy. Time for bad girls to go to bed,” he said.

“Aw, Ben. If you were having trouble scoring, you should have just said so. We could have worked something out.”

His laughter was low-down and dirty. “That’s real accommodating of you, sweetheart.”

“No worries. I think it’s a damn shame a big strong hairy rock star such as yourself has to take to kidnapping women out of bars to get any.”

Cool air hit the back of my thighs as the skirt of my dress was raised. Teeth grazed over my soft skin in warning, his breath coming dangerously close to warming pertinent areas. Or maybe that was just my imagination. Either way, time to freak right out.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” I screeched, wriggling around.

Arms tightened around me and the sharp teeth were replaced with his lips. “Stop squirming.”

“Stop being such a bastard and put me down.”

“You said to bite you.” The idiot tittered.

Whatever. Simple people are often easily amused.

Hell I was a long way up. It was a little scary. Down a fancy hallway we ventured, the sound of slot machines and the faint stink of cigarettes indicating the massive gaming room had to be somewhere near. Next, a glossy elevator with an ad for some show, playing on repeat. The foolish man had left his wallet sitting in his back pocket. At last, some entertainment. Why not, since I was along for the ride?

“Who’s Meli? And…” I held the next scrawled-on piece of paper up to my face. “Crap. I think it says Karen. I don’t think you should call Karen for a good time. The poor girl can barely spell her own name. Hey, mind if I borrow your credit card?”

The Neanderthal dipped and my feet once more met the ground. He held onto my elbow with a strong hand. A good thing because, whoa, my head spun around and around as the world slowly righted itself.

“Give me that,” he growled, snatching the wallet out of my hands and stuffing it back into his pocket. “Stop acting like a brat.”

“I’m acting like a brat? Are you serious?”

“Saying you’ll talk to me later, then disappearing.”

I snorted. “Because hearing more of your excuses sounds like such a good time.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Bullshit,” I said, hands on hips. “Go find someone who wants to play your games, Ben.”

“Fuck.” He turned away, mouth all scrunched up. “I wanted to apologize, okay?”

I watched and waited.

“I miss you, Liz. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He seemed sincere, eyes all tortured. “I’m sorry.”

“Okay. But I still can’t do it.”

His gaze searched my face. “You can’t what?”

“Be friends with you.”

He said nothing.

“I’m sorry. I know you’re lonely and you miss L.A., but I can’t. I have feelings for you and I can’t just put them away because you’re not prepared to go there.”

He pressed his lips tight together, hard enough to turn them white. Then he turned his back on me.

“Ben?”

Silence.

“For what it’s worth, I missed you too.”

The elevator pinged and the doors slid smoothly open.

“Thanks for the lift.” I wandered out, fishing my room key out of my bra ever so subtly. He’d been right. It probably was time to call it a night. At least I’d gotten some dancing and a drink or two in. I’d seen some of Vegas for myself and Anne and Mal were happily married. All in all, a highly successful trip. So why did it feel like I was being broken open because of him one more time?

Ben trudged along behind me, saying nothing. He could do as he pleased. Obviously. It was around midnight, give or take. Today had been long, with all the wedding preparations, and last night had been a late one, with my birthday celebration. Fact was, bed sounded like a damn fine idea actually.

I opened the door to my penthouse suite and stepped inside. Everything was marble and mirrors and splendor. The curtains were drawn back, displaying the Strip all lit up. A thing of beauty.

“Wow.”

The moody man mountain leaned his butt against the table, legs spread wide and muscular arms crossed over his chest. What he did to me. I never stood a chance. My heart went boom and my body woke right the hell up. The temptation to go climb him, to touch him and taste him, was too strong. He needed to leave.

“Shouldn’t you be off hitting up Karen or Meli or whoever else passed you their number?” I asked.

“You jealous?”

I tried to smile. I’m pretty sure I failed. “What would be the point?”

He just gazed at me, his blank face a mystery. Hell, all of him a mystery. One I would never solve.

“You can leave,” I said. “I won’t be going out again.”

The man crashed down on the couch. “Give me a break. I’ve been chasing you all over town for the last few hours.”

Again and again. Whatever.

Beyond the open living and dining room lay the bedroom. A mother of a bed. You’d pretty much want to pack a lunch if you were going to try and cross the thing. More flower arrangements and fancy furniture. The bathroom was equally huge and majestic. Two baths, for some reason. Wild. I wandered up to one of the basins, studying the girl in the mirror. Not bad. Pretty enough, if not beautiful. Hopefully the bulk of the time she had half a brain in her head and a promising future ahead of her.

But in the meantime the updo needed dealing with. Then I could get down to scrubbing all the makeup off my face. Maybe I’d even test-drive one of the tubs.

Ben appeared in the doorway with an open beer in his hand. Another of the buttons of his white shirt had been undone. Such a bull of a neck. No god damn idea why that worked for me.

“I take it you’ve decided you’re staying?” I reached back, searching for the first of what would no doubt be many, many hairpins.

“You mind?”

“No, I give up. But what would Mal say?”

“I’ll crash on the couch,” he said, ignoring my question entirely.

I continued duking it out with the do.

“Let me help.” He stepped closer, setting his beer down. Dark brows drew in a ways as he gave my hair a good glaring at. Then, with careful fingers, he gently tugged free his first pin and tossed it onto the counter.

“Thanks.”

Without comment, he kept on with the job while I watched. Weird. I barely came up to the guy’s shoulder, even in my high heels. The width of him dwarfed me. I wasn’t particularly tiny or petite, being basically average everything. But with him standing behind me I looked like some small, dainty thing. The guy could crush me one-handed. Hell, he’d done a pretty good job on my heart from afar.

Tags: Kylie Scott Stage Dive Book Series
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