Fly With Me (Wild Aces #1)(17)

I pulled away and turned my attention to Noah, my heart in my throat. “Ready?”



NOAH

I’d never been readier, arousal mixed with a thin thread of desperation. I didn’t know if it was her little black dress, this one impossibly even sexier than the dress she’d worn last night, or the taste I’d had earlier, but either way, I wanted her naked, wet, and moaning.

We walked through the Venetian holding hands, making our way to the elevators that led over to the guest rooms. The idea to get a room on the Strip for the weekend rather than staying in our rooms at Nellis had been all Easy. I’d balked initially, too spun up on Red Flag to even think about partying, and then given up in the face of Easy on a mission and handed over my credit card. I owed him big time.

We got into the elevator and I looped my arm around Jordan’s shoulders, pulling her toward me. She smelled amazing again. Not some cloying, flowery smell, but like vanilla and sun, and a hint of the ocean. And apparently I’d become a f*cking poet in the face of her ass in that dress, the curve of her tits highlighted by the low neckline.

I shifted our bodies so her back was to my front, shielding the massive erection between my legs from the elderly couple holding hands that looked like they were celebrating their anniversary, and giving the added bonus of her ass against my cock.

Which, come to think of it, made my arousal so much worse.

I buried my face in Jordan’s hair, my arms at her waist, holding her against me like I never wanted to let her go. I hadn’t been kidding earlier when I said I’d been bored at dinner, that all I had been able to think about was seeing her again. It had possibly been the first time in my entire life that I’d had zero interest in talking about flying. But right now the idea of sliding into the cockpit paled in comparison to the promise of surrounding myself in her warm, wet *.

My hands drifted up her stomach, moving closer and closer to the swell of her tits, dancing on the line between appropriate public displays of affection and get-a-f*cking-room.

The elderly couple got off a few floors before us, and then my hands went higher, tracing the soft curves under her breasts, my brain somehow registering the absence of a bra before it shut off and my fingers grazed her nipples and I bit down on her neck, her head arching back, a moan escaping her lips.

The elevator pinged and the doors slid open.

Finally.





SIX




JORDAN

I stepped over the threshold, Noah behind me, shutting the door, flicking on light switches. I walked over to the window, needing a moment to compose myself, staring out at the bright lights illuminating the Strip. He hadn’t been kidding about the view or how spectacular the room was. Floor-to-ceiling windows highlighted Las Vegas in all of its glory. And then I turned, and my gaze settled on him, and the majesty of neon and glitz couldn’t hold a candle to the man in front of me.

“Do you want a drink?” Noah asked, his voice gravel, the sound eliciting a pull low in my belly.

I shook my head. The tequila I’d drunk earlier at dinner was becoming a distant memory and now all my senses were coming alive. It had been a long time since I’d had sex, an eternity since I’d had good sex, and possibly never since I’d had the kind of sex Noah promised every time he touched me.

I didn’t want anything dulling that.

I turned back toward the window, and then a second later the soft strands of music filled the suite. Not cheesy seduction music, but the low, throbbing beat of a house song that set the mood better than anything else could have. I closed my eyes, giving myself over to the tension vibrating between us like a live wire, the music filling my ears and my heart.

This was my favorite moment. Always. That moment right before everything started, when you hovered over the edge, that moment when you existed in the in-between. The promise of intimacy was a game-changer, and yet there was still that tension that lingered, the pause before everything altered. It was that moment when you were in the water and caught sight of a great wave, all of nature hanging in suspension as you watched the beauty of its power and prepared for the ride of your life. It was the possibility of it. Later it could turn out to be a dud, it could f*ck you over and disappoint, but now, now—

It was magic.

He was magic.

Heat slid through me as Noah came up behind me, pulling me against his body, holding me tight in his embrace like I belonged there. I tilted my head back, leaning into him. He stroked my hair, playing with the strands, his touch achingly gentle. I liked that he didn’t rush, that he touched me like he wanted to savor every moment. I liked it, and at the same time, it threw me for a loop. I was happiest when I could put things into tiny little boxes. My personality was chaotic enough; I needed everything else around me to be easily classified or else I just became a f*cking mess. And I didn’t know what to make of this.

This was a one-night stand. Maybe if things went well, two nights. His touch was supposed to make me come. Instead, it unraveled me until I was quivering each time his flesh grazed mine.

There was something here I wasn’t prepared for, a reverence I hadn’t expected bubbling up until it became a lump in my throat, blocking out everything else. It had been there between us in the cabana, unbidden, a sense of awe that filled me. Hell, maybe it had even been there that first night I saw him, simmering underneath the urge to take off our clothes. Or maybe I was wrong to try to separate the two. I didn’t know what I was anymore.