For some reason, the prospect of going against his fashion demand had felt like naughty mischief, and naughty mischief was irresistible.
I looked away from him and pressed the button once more on the one-armed bandit, hoping for a trio of glittery red slippers. “Over the Rainbow” played as the reel spun, and I awaited my lineup, eager for a winning jackpot. No such luck. Sliding into place were a tin man, a lion, and a wicked witch, who cackled in mockery. I pouted. “I guess my luck has run out on this machine. Are you a bad luck charm?” I teased as I glanced up at my too-handsome-to-be-believed date.
Ryan’s hand came down on my neck firmly, but his voice matched my lighthearted tone. “I don’t mind your defiance,” he said, returning to my earlier comment. “As long as you don’t mind having to wait longer for all the good things I have planned for you.”
Instantly, my brain was awash with images, fantasies, and filthy scenarios I’d only dreamed of. I wanted all the good things.
“What sort of good things?” I asked, shivering as he touched me, his big palm wrapping around my neck. I closed my eyes as he traveled up to my nape. He threaded his fingers in my hair, gripping my locks. I tensed. His hand was sending a message, one that his mouth made abundantly clear when he bent his head to my ear and spoke.
“The kind that a skirt makes possible,” he said as he tugged my head back so I had to stare up at him.
“You don’t like the way I look in jeans?”
“I love the way you look in anything because you’re extraordinary to look at, and even more phenomenal to touch. But I especially like the access your skirts give me.” His lips were mere millimeters from my ear. He flicked his tongue against my earlobe, and I gasped. Then he drew the soft flesh into his teeth and bit. A burst of excitement whipped through me at his touch. Holden had never bitten me like this. Not with a sense of ownership.
Ryan ran a hand along the bare skin of my arm, on display in my black blouse with cap sleeves. The sheer material revealed a tight lacy camisole underneath, which pushed up my breasts, showcasing ample cleavage.
“Maybe I wanted to make sure you didn’t forget about other parts of me,” I said, casting a glance down at my chest, letting him follow.
Ryan laughed deeply then shook his head, seemingly in admiration of the view. He let go of his firm hold and kissed my neck, a soft and unbearably sexy kiss. I nearly squirmed on the plush red stool parked in front of the gambling machine. “Sophie, there’s not a chance in hell I’d forget those gorgeous breasts, and I plan on getting better acquainted with them. Maybe even fucking them,” he said as he dragged a finger along the bare flesh of my chest, and I nearly moaned out loud at the prospect of being fucked in the valley of my breasts by this dirty, dominating man. “Would you like that?”
I nodded as heat flared through my system. “I believe I would,” I whispered.
“Excellent. Because I believe I would like to do that to you. There are many things I want to do to you, and I always want you to feel good.”
“I’d say you’re meeting your goal because so far it’s all good,” I said, pausing before I added, “Quite good.”
He grinned. “And you should always tell me what you like and don’t like. Does that work for you?”
“Yes.” Anticipation bloomed inside me as we made some sort of impromptu pact to govern our pleasure.
“And I’ll do the same,” he said, bending closer to my head as he ran his nose along my hair, inhaling my scent. He murmured as he touched me, then kissed a curl on the side of my face. “Like right now when I tell you I really don’t like that you didn’t listen to me. And do you know what that means?”
I raised an eyebrow. I’d never experienced this sort of cat-and-mouse play before. By wearing jeans in defiance, had I violated some unwritten rule of the tie-me-up-and-take-me game? A squadron of nerves docked in my belly, and I wished I had more experience with men like Ryan. My knowledge of the opposite sex was woefully limited, and while I wasn’t innocent by any stretch, I felt a bit like a wide-eyed woman recently freed from an unusual marriage and thrust into an unknown battlefield with this intense, commanding man.
That was the point, of course. Still, I was a traveler wandering through a lush new land without a map.
Whether I’d been disobedient or not, this back-and-forth we had going was intoxicating, especially since we were in public, ensconced in the middle of the Caesars Palace slot machines, amid the whir and jingle of imaginary coins falling as gamblers hunted for payouts in the games of chance.
The cowardly lion roared idly from my game, trying to entice me to play another round. I ignored it.
“No. Tell me what it means,” I said, turning to face him and running my lacquered fire-engine red nails along his arm. I could feel the outline of his muscles, his strong biceps, his steely forearms, through the fabric of his shirt. “I’m dying to know.”
“You want to know?”
I nodded, keeping my gaze firmly fixed on his. His dark-blue eyes were hungry. He looked as if he wanted to eat me. “Are you going to spank me?”
“Would you like that?”
A shiver of anticipation ran across my skin. “I think I would,” I said in a whisper.
He knitted his brow. “You think? You don’t know?”
I shook my head, biting my lip. “I’ve never been spanked.”
He let out a low whistle of regret. “That’s a damn shame, because you have a highly spankable ass. But this is music to my ears, because I fully intend to break it in,” he said as he moved his hand down my back along the fabric of my shirt, heading in the direction of my, evidently, quite spankable ass.
“I suspect I’d like your hands on my ass,” I said, and he groaned—a sexy, dirty rumble that turned me on. “So are you going to spank me on the roller-coaster? In the hot-air balloon? Or in the secret private jet you’ll be piloting tonight?”
“None of the above. You’re going to have to wait for all the good things now. That’s what happens when you don’t listen.”
“Ah, so that’s my punishment for my impudence. How long must I wait?”
He offered me a hand and pulled me up from my stool. “Until you’re wearing a skirt,” he answered crisply. The stern look in his eyes said he was serious, and that he could wait for me to change. He’d be waiting a lot less time than he thought.
“Right now, though, I want to spend some time getting to know you. That’s why I bought tickets to the High Roller,” he said, mentioning the Ferris wheel nearby. “So I can chat with you as we ride. Because you’re far too classy a woman for me to get you off in front of all the other people riding in our pod.”
“Why, thank you for opting not to get me off in a pod. But you know it’s become a thing in Vegas now, trying to have sex on the Ferris wheel.”
He nodded. “Yeah, and most people get busted. There’s a difference between trying to get a tacky, tasteless notch on your public sex belt, and knowing how to pleasure a woman in public so that you’re the only one who knows she’s about to fall apart in your arms.”
“And I trust you know the difference?”
He cupped my cheek, drawing my face near to his so his nose touched mine. How was it possible that touching noses was sexy? But even this made me sizzle. Then his words scorched my imagination as he said, “What I know, Sophie, is exactly what I want to do to you. And you’ll just have to wait to find out.”