Las Vegas Nights. Cat Schield
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body stiffened. His name escaped her in a keening cry.
As she drifted back to earth, he sat up and stripped off his clothes. He pulled a condom out of his wallet and sheathed himself. Any hope of taking his time was smashed by her parted thighs and welcoming arms. He lay back down, and angled his hips until the tip of his erection sat at her entrance. Her arms closed about his neck, her fingers playing with his hair.
“I need to feel you inside me,” she murmured, kissing his chin.
He dipped his head and kissed her soft lips, the contact tender and slow. When her tongue stole out to mate with his, he slipped into her in one smooth stroke and groaned. She clasped him in a snug embrace and the sensation was too much for words. But one stood out in his mind.
“Amazing.”
“Absolutely.”
Moving inside her was the single most incredible thing he’d ever experienced. Somehow she knew exactly how to shift her hips to achieve the ideal friction. Making love on the couch wasn’t ideal, but their shared laughter as they jostled for leverage and strained to pleasure each other with lips, hands and movements made the moment completely perfect and totally theirs.
He’d never imagined feeling such a strong connection with any woman, much less the one who’d been a thorn in his side for five years. Maybe she was right. It had been simple sexual frustration. Once they satisfied their itch for each other, they could go politely on their way, never to take jabs at each other again.
Somehow the idea that he might never get another night with Scarlett filled him with anguish. He kissed her hard, grappling with the notion that his desire for her could ever be fully slaked. But if she continued to drive him crazy, what did that mean for the future?
He quickened his pace as control abandoned him. Scarlett matched his intensity, her expression tight with concentration as they drove together toward completion. As she began to peak, her eyes opened and locked on his. The smile that emerged on her passion-bruised lips speared straight into his heart. It wasn’t carnal or greedy in nature. It was heartbreakingly open. She’d offered him a glimpse into her soul and it was brimming with optimism and hope.
Logan buried his face in her neck to escape what he’d seen, but the image haunted him as he felt her body begin to vibrate. The bite of Scarlett’s nails against his back triggered his own orgasm. Muscles quivering, nerves pulsing with frantic energy, he thrust hard into her and let himself go. Together they crested, voices blending in perfect harmony.
Bodies trembling in the aftermath, they clung to each other. Logan’s chest pumped, drawing much-needed air into his lungs. Scarlett’s fingertips moved languidly up and down his spine, her touch soothing.
Damn. What the hell had just happened?
“Give me a second and I’ll move,” he muttered, his voice raw and shaken. He hoped she would credit the workout they’d just had for causing him to sound so unsteady. She couldn’t find out how his feelings for her had deepened until he could sort out what to do about it.
“Take your time.” Scarlett’s voice was maddeningly relaxed and calm. “I’m enjoying the feel of all this brawn.”
While his heart thumped hard enough to break a rib, Logan kissed her cheek and the corner of her mouth. “Why are you smiling?”
“Are you kidding?” She laughed. “When was the last time you tore someone’s clothes off and had sex on a couch?” Her finger dug into his ribs. “And don’t you dare tell me last week.”
“I did not tear your clothes off.”
“No,” she agreed. “You took way too much time removing them.” She framed his face with her hands and forced his gaze to hers. “Are you okay?”
“I’m the guy,” he reminded her, turning his head so he could kiss her palm. “I’m the one who’s supposed to ask that.”
She twitched her shoulders. “So ask.”
“Are you okay?”
“Never better.”
Logan kissed her lips. “You know, we really should get off this couch.”
“Don’t you dare.” Her arm wrapped around his neck, holding him in a tight vise. “I like it right here.”
“At least let me...” He shifted his weight off her and lay on his back, pinning her on her side between him and the back of the couch. “That’s better,” he said, pulling the conveniently placed throw over their naked, cooling bodies.
“It’s nice.”
With her cheek resting on his shoulder and her body a curvy miracle half-draped over him, Logan closed his eyes and wondered when he’d enjoyed such contentment. Usually he was a burn-the-candle-at-both-ends kind of guy. He spent most of his days overseeing his company’s massive operations here in Las Vegas and his evenings dreaming up better technology to keep his clients’ assets safe.
Taking time for a personal life had been a low priority. Sure, he dated. A guy had needs. But he wasn’t one to linger after a nice dinner and some satisfying sex. He never exactly bolted for the door, but he certainly didn’t stick around long enough to snuggle.
This experience with Scarlett was much different. He was at peace. Delighted to hold her in his arms until the sun came up, watching her sleep or talking. Was it crazy that they argued about everything but blended seamlessly the instant they kissed? Would their differing points of view eventually taint their lovemaking?
It was no surprise that Logan was already thinking in terms of endings. Didn’t he enter every relationship with an eye on how and when it would end? Perhaps it wasn’t fair to the women he saw that he perceived their time together as finite, but his perspective was realistic. Even nine-year relationships ended. That his fiancée could choose her career over him had struck a devastating blow. One he wasn’t going to let happen again.
And he needed to be more wary than ever because slipping into sleep beside him was the first woman since Elle who had the potential to catch him off guard.
Humming happily, Scarlett dived into the clear, cool water of the private pool located on the same floor as her private suite. She loved to swim, and tried to spend at least thirty minutes in the morning doing laps. If she had a little more time, she floated across the dappled surface and enjoyed the lush vegetation planted around the pool deck.
She ached in all sorts of muscles this morning. Making love on a couch was just the sort of thing she might have expected from Logan. Waking up to his soft kisses and hard erection had been a nice surprise. If she’d been asked to bet how he’d behave in the cold light of a Las Vegas dawn, she would have put her money on him returning to his impatient, bad-tempered self. And she would have lost every cent.
Not only did he wake up aroused. He was playful in the morning. And unexpectedly romantic. For a woman who was used to being treated like some sort of trophy, Logan’s willingness to make her coffee and feed her orange slices had given her hope that she wasn’t simply a conquest.
Her happy glow persisted through the rest of the morning. At noon she headed to her office, where reality intruded. The script Bobby had promised to send sat in the middle of her desk. She tore open the package and scanned the short note he’d included. Even though she’d already decided against auditioning, there was no stopping the excitement that rushed through her. New scripts meant new opportunities and so few had come her way in the past few years.
Although she had no intention of returning to Hollywood and told herself it was foolish to get worked up about the project, she cleared her afternoon schedule and read the entire script twice. The writing was really good. The story fresh and daring. It was the exact thing she’d longed to do, but no one would give her a chance.
Almost as if on cue, as soon as she