Chapter Three
His cock wasn’t going to take no for an answer. It swelled and strained against his zipper, and stifling a groan of frustration, Jackson shifted to ease the painful pressure. He never anticipated the favor he’d promised Evangeline would cause blue balls.
“Are you okay?”
Leah’s soft voice pulled him back to the present. Leaning away to put some distance between them, he ran a hand through his hair and nodded. She watched him, her blue eyes filled with uncertainty, and his protective instinct flared again. Jesus, he never got involved with needy women—that was the surest path to hell. He damn well wasn’t going to start now, even if he did feel sorry for her. Misery may love company, but he liked being alone, thanks.
He stood abruptly, catching the chair when it threatened to topple backward. Shrugging out of his constricting suit jacket, he threw it over the back and asked, “You hungry?” Not waiting for a reply, he strode to the desk to call room service. The last thing he wanted was food, but he needed to get away from her scent and warmth, her total femininity. Eating could be just the distraction necessary to clear his head and tame his libido. He hoped.
Wide-eyed, she gripped the arms of her chair and watched him stab the numbers for the kitchen. The kitchen manager answered on the first ring.
“Hey, Marcus. Let me speak to Gina.” When the head chef picked up, Jackson didn’t bother with a greeting. “How long will it take to get a meal sent up here?”
The chef chuckled. “I’m doing well, thank you.”
He scratched his chin and glanced over his shoulder at Leah. She’d moved to stand in front of the window, her back stiff. His fingers groped at the knot of his tie and he worked it loose until it hung like a noose around his neck. What the hell is wrong with me? He never lost his cool, not with his staff and definitely not with women.
“I apologize, Gina.” He attempted contrition though the woman on the other end of the line knew him better than that. “What’s on your menu tonight?”
“Steak, those mashed potatoes you like, and….” She paused. “Where are you?”
Shit. Nobody at the hotel knew he had a date. The most they knew was he’d asked them to get the best suite ready for a special guest, not an unheard of request in Vegas. But, he’d forgotten the staff had the ability to know which room a call originated from.
“Upstairs.” He peeked over his shoulder again and found Leah clutching the drapes with both hands and continuing to take great interest in the traffic on the Strip below.
“What are you doing in a guest room? Why aren’t you in your office?”
Jackson narrowed his eyes. He was so not answering that question—the whole freaking hotel would know about Leah and 1NightStand and his stand-in routine to fill a dead guy’s shoes…nope, not answering.
“I need two meals. You know where to send them.” There. The boss had spoken. He hung up before she could ask anything else.
He turned back toward Leah and his breath hitched. Golden light from the desert sunset shone in, creating a halo around her blond hair and diminutive form…giving her an almost fairy-like appeal…a very sexy little fairy. And when she glanced over at him with a look both questioning and timid, his heart tripped.
Damn. She was utterly, vulnerably beautiful.
He joined her at the window, standing behind but not touching her. Staring out over her shoulder, he viewed the skyline, one he’d seen so many times without ever really noticing it. Wondered what her thoughts were and tried not to think about where his own thoughts kept heading.
“Do you want to hear something funny?” She spoke in a soft voice.
Their images reflected back at them from the window and he caught her gaze in the glass. Even in the dim reflection, her eyes were a stunning blue.
“What’s that?”
“It’s ironic that I’ve been to Las Vegas so many times, but I’ve never gambled in my entire life.”
“Never? Not even a bet?” He wondered where she was going with the declaration.
“No.”
He tilted his head. Contacting Evangeline had been risky behavior for her then. “Something tells me you haven’t always followed the rules though.”
“Well, obviously not.” She caught his eye in the window again and laughed. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
Oh yes, she was definitely here. He ached to touch her, to feel her again. Shifting forward, he put his hands on her waist and drew her back against his chest. She surprised him by molding into him naturally, as though she’d done it a thousand times. Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around her waist. She fit perfectly.
Ah, hell.
***
It felt so good to be held by a man. It’d been so long, too long. Strong arms locked her tight against a hard, muscular body. She wondered if the unexpected embrace was for pity’s sake…until Jackson pulled her hair away from her neck and ran a tender trail of kisses up the side, zeroing in on the wildly erogenous zone behind her ear. Goose bumps rose over her entire body in a rush. Any notion it was a pity embrace fled when an insistent erection pressed against her through the thin fabric of her skirt.
Hello.
Jackson surprised her though, when he didn’t continue the seduction but seemed content to hold her. She glanced down. His hands were large, with long fingers and just a slight sprinkling of dark hair peeking from the cuffs of his dress shirt, so stark white in contrast to his tanned skin.
“What do you do, Jackson?” She angled her head to look at him.
“For a living?” His deep voice vibrated against her back and he quirked a black eyebrow. “Or for fun?”
Oh, man. That look, both teasing and erotic, had her stomach somersaulting as the most delicious images of the things Jackson probably did for fun flipped like flashcards through her mind.
“Let’s start with your job.” We’ll explore the fun stuff in much greater detail later.
He frowned. “What did Eve tell you about me?”
Looking back, Leah realized Madame Eve hadn’t revealed a whole lot about Jackson. In fact, he knew a lot more about Leah than she knew about him, right down to her pet preferences and how she liked her steaks cooked. Leah, on the other hand, didn’t even know his last name. “Not enough, evidently.”
“Well, for starters, I own a business.”
No big surprise there. She’d heard him on the phone, he knew how to order people around. “Small or large?”
“Started out as a small, family-run business.” He rested his chin on her hair and tightened his hold. “The family still owns it, but now it’s huge. More than I can handle most days.”
She heard the pride in his voice. “But you wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“It’s my life.” He shrugged behind her, the motion reminding her of his evident, pressing desire.
He’d come to meet her still dressed for work, straight business attire all the way, right down to his red tie. She’d always been a sucker for a man in a suit—it spelled power. And there was nothing sexier than a powerful man. “Is your business local?”
He chuckled. “About as local as you’re going to get. You’re standing in it.”
Her mind raced. What was he talking ab—
Dear God. Slowly, she turned in his grasp. “You’re Jack Castillo? The Jack Castillo who owns the Castillo Hotel chain?” She didn’t know much about his personal life, he’d always kept a low profile, never showing up in the tabloid rags, never having any sort of gossip attached to his name. But anyone who followed the hotel business world knew who the Castillos were, and the enormous amount of money the company made providing top-notch, impeccable lodging and service. And suddenly, Madame Eve’s discretion for not revealing Jackson’s last name prior to their meeting made sense.
It did, however, raise another question. With his wealth and incredible good looks, he sure as hell didn’t need the services of a company like 1NightStand to get a date. Or get laid for that matter. Then another thought struck her—maybe guaranteed anonymity was the only way he kept the gold diggers away. Or maybe he was into some kink. Or both. “What are you doing here?”
“Evangeline and I are friends. I owed her a favor.”
Leah laughed. “That must have been one big favor.” Like someone as busy as Jack Castillo had the time for blind dates.
She gasped when he pushed her back until she bumped into the window. Desert heat radiated through the thick glass and warmed her from behind. Sensual, all-male body heat warmed the front of her. Her pulse spiked.
“So far, it hasn’t been a hardship.” He grinned. “But don’t tell her I said so.”
He had her completely tongue-tied. All she’d hoped for the evening was some consensual sex and the opportunity to put Mark in the past on the anniversary of his death. She’d never in her wildest dreams expected to spend the night with one of the wealthiest hoteliers on the planet. One who seemed to be enjoying it.
A discreet knock interrupted her jumbled thoughts and Jackson dropped his hands from her waist with a fleeting look of regret. “That was quick.”
She watched him stride the few steps to the door, enjoying the view. He had an animal grace, confident and somewhat predatory, which made sense. A wimp didn’t run a hotel empire.
Jackson murmured a few words to the room service delivery staff then rolled a dinner cart into the room. Lifting the domed lid from one of two plates, he inspected the meal with what Leah assumed was the same critical eye he used for all things Castillo. He appeared satisfied and nodded. “I hope you like things spicy.”
A heady aroma of beef filled the room. She hadn’t eaten much in two days, in nervous anticipation of the evening ahead. Her stomach growled and embarrassed, she laid a hand over it. “It smells delicious.”
He nodded toward the fare. “I’m sure it will be.” Pulling two hidden panels out from under the linen cloth covering the cart, it became a table for two. After placing the chairs they’d sat in earlier across from each other at the little table, he held out a hand to her. “Come on. My sister prepared my favorite meal for us.”
Leah approached him, ignoring the flutter in her belly when she took his hand. “Your sister is the chef?”
“One of the best.” He grinned. “If she weren’t, I’d let the Bellagio have her.” He pushed in her chair as she sat down.
Mark never would have done that. Leah bit her lip in penance for thinking poorly of him. No matter what, he didn’t deserve thoughts like that. Even if they were true.
Jackson waited until she lifted a fork and took a bite before he began eating. She closed her eyes in bliss as the heavenly taste and scent of the exquisitely prepared meat filled her head. “Oh, this is….” She took another bite, unable to finish the thought around the delicious perfection.
He nodded. “I told you, I only have the best chefs working for me.”
“You were right.” Leah sipped her wine. “But please don’t mention to them I licked the plate clean when I was done.”
His burst of laughter surprised her. Glancing up, she flushed at the amusement in his eyes as he watched her. “Knowing my sister, Gina, she’d be flattered.”
They ate for several moments, comfortable in the silence before Leah finally pushed her plate away. “Now that I can’t finish another bite, tell me what that was.” She sat back and watched him eat, European style. The economy of movement fascinated her. Or maybe it was simply watching his strong hands handle the utensils with precision and grace. She cleared her throat and tried to ignore another mental flash of those hands, stroking her sensitive flesh.
“Cuban fusion. My sister studied with Chef Emilio Diaz in Miami for several years before returning home.”
Impressive. Chef Emilio, the gifted, arrogant Cuban who made even Oprah swoon. “Home being Las Vegas, and not Miami?”
“This is our flagship hotel, so yes, Vegas is home. Most of the family is here, although a couple of my brothers and a cousin manage resorts elsewhere.” Jackson leaned back in the chair and crossed an ankle over one knee.
His intense gaze never left hers. She searched for something to say. “Is your family Cuban?”
“My parents emigrated from Cuba prior to the revolution. Our heritage plays a role in nearly every aspect of our lives.” He reached over and lifted the lid from a small bowl on the table. “Including dessert.”
The scent of cinnamon and vanilla wafted between them. Leah’s mouth watered, even after the delicious meal they’d shared. “What is it?”
“Proof my sister loves me.” He dipped a spoon in and lifted it toward her. “Natilla Cubana.” The lovely Latin words rolled over his tongue. “Cuban custard, my mother’s recipe. Try it.”
But, he held the spoon too far away. Leah glanced up at him, waiting for him to reach in and let her have a taste, but he didn’t move. She licked her lips and he caught the movement before his dark eyes rose slowly to meet hers. He stretched forward and she met him halfway, her lips closing over the metal, their gazes never separating. Sexual tension flared between them, hot and fast and she barely tasted the sweet dessert. When she started to sit back down, he shook his head.
“Come here, Leah.”
The heat in his voice immobilized her, causing her to forget about food and small talk, and focus solely on him. The sudden shift from light dinner conversation to spontaneous desire both confused and thrilled her. He set the spoon down and stood, holding out his hand to her. When she took it, he pulled her up and kissed her, his lips soft but determined.
When he ended the kiss, she sighed. “I guess dinner is over.”
“Very over,” he muttered against her mouth, his tongue seeking entry. The invasion ramped up her heart rate until he had to feel the pounding against his chest. His hands gripped her bottom through her dress and pulled gently until she stood on her tiptoes and his very insistent erection pressed squarely against her mound. She shuddered and pushed into him, seeking more.
His fingers wandered to the back of her dress and he ran them up her spine. Pulling back, he frowned. “Where the hell is the zipper on this thing?”
She laughed at his frustration. “There isn’t one.”
Ignoring her amusement, he walked her backward until she bumped into the bed. Lifting her up, he laid her back and braced his hands on either side of her head and leaned in for a quick kiss before standing upright. Running his palms up the sides of her thighs and under the dress, he lifted the hem, his lips skimming along the path of the fabric. Cool air followed behind the hot trail of his hands, and goose bumps rose on her skin. In the next breath, he’d exposed her panties. Bending down, he kissed the sensitive skin above the elastic. Heat flooded her core at the simple but erotic gesture and she sighed.
She’d missed the caresses, the seduction of a man, more than she’d realized. Having Jackson touch her awakened the sexuality she’d thought died with Mark. But her body remembered how long she’d gone without intimacy—sex—she didn’t want to waste any more time.
Jackson’s hands crept up the inside of her dress and eased it over her head to toss it aside. Then he stared down at her, his expression dark and serious. “Tell me this is what you want.” When she nodded but didn’t reply, he said, “I need to hear you say it, Leah. Tell me you want this.”
“I want this.” She tugged at his dress shirt until she’d freed it from his pants. “I want you to do this.”
That seemed to be all he needed to hear. With a groan, he began to undress, yanking the tie over his head before fumbling with the little buttons at his cuffs and shirt front. She leaned back on her elbows, watching him struggle, knowing he wanted her as much as she needed him. Her panties were soaked with her desire and anticipation. When her gaze traveled down to linger on the tent in his trousers, his hands jerked and a button popped.
“Let me.” She pushed his hands away, her small fingers working the rest of the buttons through the holes then peeked up at him through her hair and smiled.
In a rush, he shrugged out of the shirt, gripped her hands and laid her back on the bed again, settling over her. His weight another reminder of how much she’d missed sex and the feel of a man pressing her into the mattress. He nuzzled her neck with his lips, and lifted their joined hands over her head. Hard and huge, his erection rubbed against the thin barrier of his pants and her underwear and she spread her legs and arched again. Her obvious neediness should have embarrassed her but she didn’t stop.
“Wrap your legs around me.” He punctuated the demand with a searing kiss and ground his cock against her. The beginning of release pooled in her core and she dragged her mouth from his with a moan.
He lifted his head and looked down at her. Her breath hitched at the desire and lust etched on his face. He shifted his hips again and her eyes drifted closed. She bit her lip. So close. One more motion of his cock and she’d come.
When he didn’t move, she opened her eyes. In a ragged voice, he said, “Condom?”
“Top drawer.”
He rolled off the bed, ditched his pants in record time and yanked the nightstand drawer open. Pulling the Lucky Stiff box out, he read it and frowned but made no comment. A moment later, he gathered her in his arms and gave her a soft kiss. “Last chance to reconsider.”
While she appreciated his consideration, she’d paid for the one-night stand. Backing out this late in their date wasn’t an option, especially when her only desire was having him fill her and drive her over the edge.
Instead of answering, she guided his hand to the top of her panties. “Can you help me with these?”
Without a word, he inched them down and over her feet then unhooked her bra. Her heart thundered and her nipples hardened in response. Straddling her, he pulled the bra free and lowered his head, capturing a nipple between his lips. His warm tongue caressed it, rolling it gently, shooting sparks of desire straight to her clitoris. She strained upward for more and he chuckled, giving her other breast equal attention. Clutching his biceps, she moaned. “Please, Jackson.”
His hot mouth inched its way up her chest and nibbled her neck, making her writhe beneath him in anticipation. He shifted to settle between her legs, his cock touching her intimately and she opened for him, so ready for his invasion.
Inch by agonizing inch, he penetrated her, retreating and pushing, until he filled her. He stopped. “Okay?”
She couldn’t speak and nodded instead. Having him inside, feeling his weight above her, nearly overwhelmed her. She’d forgotten how wondrous lovemaking could be, how lovely the joining. Without a doubt, arranging this evening had been the right thing to do. Leaving Mark behind didn’t mean forgetting him. But time and new experiences helped to ease the loss.
And Jackson Castillo definitely knew how to ease a loss.
He moved then, his strokes slow and easy. He was a big man, in every way, and she appreciated his gentleness, but she wanted more. His foreplay alone had nearly driven her over the edge and she craved the completion his touch promised.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, his weight pushing his cock deeper. His satisfied grunt of pleasure matched hers and he responded by rotating his hips, rubbing her clit. He braced himself on one arm and slipped the other hand under her back to lift her, bending his head to bring his lips to her breast. Sucking the taut nipple, he never stopped moving slow and sure between her legs.
The combined pleasure of his mouth and cock scored a direct hit, much quicker than she’d expected and she flew over the edge, the orgasm gripping her, raging through her, tearing the breath from her lungs. He never stopped stroking her over and over and she peaked again, the pleasure more intense, even more exhilarating.
Coherent thought returned slowly.
Well, that never happened before.
She couldn’t wait to do it again.