Lexi

 

I don’t know how long we sleep, but when I wake up I’m cocooned in the heat that is Bradley.

I don’t want to wake him, so I don’t move. I think back to the afternoon. I knew it was going to be incredible, that he would rock my world. But what I wasn’t prepared for was the fact that he has ruined me for any other man. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to have sex with anyone else.

I wonder if I can become a nun. Well, it would have to be a nun who masturbates, because there is no way I’m giving up having orgasms.

He played my body like it was a fucking fiddle and he was Charlie Daniels. I’m shocked at the things he made it do—things it’s never done before, things I didn’t even know it could do.

“Faker.” I hear his raspy voice whisper in my ear.

I’m on my back, and his big, warm body is pinning me down with the weight of his arm wrapped around me and his legs tangled with mine. “I didn’t want to wake you, but since you’re up,” I say, rolling out of his embrace, “I need to pee.” I run to the bathroom while he chuckles.

Making my way back to bed, I’m distracted by the dining table and stop at it to eat a strawberry. “I’m starving,” I tell him, listening as he gets out of bed and walks over. He looks like a Greek god.

“We can go out to eat,” he says, eating a strawberry. “Where do you want to go?” he asks as he sits down and pulls me onto his lap.

“Oh! Let’s go have chicken wings and pizza,” I say, grabbing a strawberry and feeding it to him. “We can walk down the strip.” I eat the rest of the strawberry. “What time is it, anyway?”

He looks around, seeing the clock in the corner. “Almost ten.”

I get off his lap and walk back into the bathroom and begin rummaging through the clothes that we bought.

“So it’s casual night, right?” I ask, bending over, grabbing a thong and jeans.

“Not if you keep doing that,” he says from the doorway.

“Go away and get dressed, or I’m leaving without you.” I shoo him away, getting dressed in my tight, ripped blue jeans and a loose, black tank top that plunges into a deep vee. I grab my lace-up gladiator sandals and put them on. “Should I bring a jacket?” I yell across the room.

He comes out of his bathroom dressed in black jeans, a black, long-sleeved shirt pulled up to the elbows, and his black watch on his wrist. He hasn’t shaved, so he’s got a little bit of scruff on his face. He looks like he models for GQ.

“Look at you all smoking hot.” I whistle at him and watch him smile at me. “You ready to go?”

“I found a restaurant in the Aria. You mind walking?” He comes over to me and kisses me on the neck.

“Let’s go before I forget that the last time we ate was this morning.” We walk out of the room, holding hands all the way to the lobby and out the front doors.

Our hands get separated, so he pulls me to him, laying his arm along the back of my shoulders while we walk down the sidewalk. The fountain show starts just as we are passing it. “Oh, I love this song,” I say, and he stops at the railing, caging me in between his arms in front of him as he stands behind me. I lean back on him, resting my head on his shoulder against his neck.

We watch until the show comes to an end and as people start clapping and walking away, I ask, “It’s so beautiful, isn’t it?” I look up at him to see him looking at me with a mischievous grin on his face. He puts his arm around my shoulders. “That’s not the only beautiful thing I see right here.” He pulls me closer and kisses the side of my head.

“Oh, look at you being all sweet,” I say, reaching my hand up to hold his that is draped over my shoulder. I lean in to whisper in his ear, “No need to woo me, though, Bradley. I’m a sure thing.” I wink at him as we stop at the corner and wait for the signal to cross the street.

Once we get to the other side, a man stands in the middle of the sidewalk, handing out cards to passersby. He reaches to hand one to Bradley, but I get there first. “Oh! Are these call girls?” I ask excitedly, grabbing the card from him before Bradley can. I look down at the card and then back up at Bradley and smile as I tell him, “Look! It’s a special! Two for forty-nine ninety-nine. Chlamydia prescription included.” I laugh at my own joke.

We continue on our way to the Aria, walking together and pointing out the sights to each other. We stop in front of The Cosmopolitan Hotel to check out the women dancing in the window for a few moments before we start walking again. After a couple minutes more of walking, we finally make it to the restaurant and are ushered to a table for two.

“Can we sit over there?” Bradley asks the hostess, pointing to a table of four.

She smiles and changes our table. I’m about to sit in front of him when he pulls out the chair in the corner. I sit in it, assuming he is going to sit in front of me, but he sits right beside me.

“What are you doing?” I ask him while I watch as he picks up the menu and scans it over.

“I want to sit next to you.” He doesn’t look up while he answers me, and I know it’s silly, but it makes my heart pitter-patter. I shake my head and remind myself that this is a one-week vacation fling. I get him for seven days, and that’s it.

The thought hurts my chest, and I rub my heart absentmindedly while I look over the menu, hoping he doesn’t see it. “I think I want to order it all,” I say, looking over at him.

“So order it.” Just like that, no questions asked. A shrug of the shoulder and he would do it. I roll my eyes at him while I focus back on the menu to decide what I want to order. “Kiss me,” he whispers to me, his voice a demanding growl.

I look over at him. “Perhaps”—I turn in my chair—“one should ask instead of demand.” I don’t have a chance to say anything more because he yanks me to him, and his mouth lands on mine. His smell surrounds me, invading my nose and causing me to yearn for him, to crave him.

I open my mouth to allow his tongue to enter. All of my senses awaken as my body starts to tingle. His hands fist my hair, using it to make sure that he’s the one who’s in control of the kiss.

I’m lost in this kiss, lost in him. I lean closer to deepen the kiss. We slowly drift apart, my lips already missing him as my hand rubs them to get the tingling to stop. “Now, no one is going to guess if we’re together or not,” he says, and I look around at the ten or so men sitting at the bar trying not to look our way.

“Seriously? You kissed me just to let them know we were together?” I huff out, pretending I’m pissed when I’m really swooning. “Why not fuck me on the table? That would leave no questions about it then.”

He doesn’t say anything because the waitress comes over, introducing herself as Tanya and letting us know she’s going to be with us tonight. I smile at her as I watch her eyeing Bradley.

He doesn’t even notice her, still looking over the menu.

“Love.” His eyes pop up the minute I use his nickname for me. “What are you having?”

He looks at me, then at the waitress and then back at me as he smirks. “I don’t know, love,” he says, placing his hand on the back of my neck. “How about we get pizza and wings?”

“You did spend the whole afternoon working up my appetite. I think I’ll splurge,” I tell him while shooting a sideways glance at Tanya, who just stands there with a fake smile plastered on her face.

“We’ll take two margarita pizzas and some wings,” he says, continuing to scan the menu.

“What type of wings?” Tanya asks as she writes down the pizza order.

“Nothing spicy,” he says, looking over at me. “Remember the last time you had hot wings?” He looks up at Tonya. “Something mild. BBQ? We will also take a bottle of Pinot Noir.”

She nods, and he hands her our menus.

I wait for her to walk away before I turn to him. “I think I could have ordered for myself. It might be a surprise to you,” I say, drinking from the glass of water that showed up, “but I’ve actually been out to restaurants before.” I smile at him, nothing friendly about it.

He laughs at me, putting his arm around the back of my chair. “Honestly,” he starts saying, “I didn’t want it to seem like I didn’t know what you like to eat. I wanted it to seem like I know you.”

I put my hand on his thigh. “You do know me,” I say softly, leaning over to kiss him. “You know I love burgers, you know I hate clowns. You also know my bra size, and I’ll have you know that not many people can say they know that.”

“I also know”—he leans over, whispering in my ear—“what you look like right before you come. How your eyes drift closed just a bit, and how your head drops back right before you moan.”

“Check, please,” I say, putting my hand up.

He grabs it, bringing it to his lips, and kissing the inside of my wrist. My heart beats faster at the sweet and intimate gesture.

“So tell me,” I ask him, “how do you like living in New York?”

Some bread is placed on our table, and he takes a roll, cutting it open and buttering both pieces before feeding me a bite. “It’s a challenge. I don’t know many people, so my nights are usually spent at the gym or out with a couple of co-workers.”

I listen to him talk about how he’s just by himself, and I feel bad that I didn’t make the effort to reach out to him. “I’m sorry,” I say to him. “I was holding a grudge against you from when I was eight and didn’t contact you when I knew you got here.”

“It hasn’t been that bad. I just had a busier social life in London. It’s going to take some time, but I’m sure this will be just like home soon.”

I’m about to tell him that I’ll call him every day to make sure he’s okay, but I stop myself, because I don’t know if I can do it. I don’t know if I can separate everything between us, what’s happening here in Vegas from what we are in real life. Here it’s almost like it’s a dream, but once we’re home...I don’t get to think about it anymore because the pizzas and the wings arrive.

We talk about stories of when we were younger. The pranks he played on Sterling while in Eton. I almost pee myself listening to story after story of their antics, interjecting when one would jar a memory. The conversation was easy and pleasant and a reminder that we do have a shared history.

Tanya comes over to ask us if we would like any dessert. I look up at her and reply, “Nope. I’ve got something sweet to give him back at the room. Just the check, please.” I smirk at her.

“Jesus, why don’t you just fuck me on the table?” He mocks me.

“Don’t tempt me, Fitch, don’t tempt me.”

We walk out of the restaurant, hand in hand, both of us full, both smiling, both looking forward to that sweet treat back into the room.