“I’ll be coming back and forth for a bit while I get settled. Planes fly both ways, you know.” I bumped my shoulder with his to lighten the mood. “Miraculous flying machines they have these days.”
He eased up on the frown, smiling almost sheepishly. “Good. It’s hell going cold turkey on an addiction.”
Addiction. I liked the sound of that. I liked being his sexy drug.
Wrapping an arm around my waist, John guided me out to his car. He couldn’t have been waiting long, but he hadn’t used any cop clout to leave his car in the loading-only lane. Always the model police officer in public.
In public.
I didn’t hide a smirk. I had two weeks with John, and I wasn’t going to waste any of them pretending I wasn’t a cat with a cream smorgasbord.
As John navigated out of the airport, I steered back to a much earlier point in the conversation. “On second thought,” I said, angling in the seat to face him, “since I have my overnight bag in the trunk, we can go to your place.”
He glanced at me, that sexy hint of a smile curving his lips. “I thought you wanted to get a good night’s sleep.”
“Sleep is for the weak.” And for people who had more than two weeks with someone I liked as much as I liked John. Though I was pretty sure I was feeling a whole lot more than like.
I would worry about my hatred of snow later. Not to mention the lack of John, whether for running or kickboxing or any other sweaty activities.
Only, as I watched him drive, streetlights and shadows painting his chiseled features, I faced one of many facts.
This move would be much easier if all I would miss about John was working up a sweat.
That night, after John turned “travel-weary” into “blissful exhaustion,” he asked me my favorite things to do in Las Vegas.
“Besides you?” I’d asked, and he’d come very close to a smirk.
I’d brainstormed a list—restaurants, shops, and sights, both things I did often and things I didn’t do enough—and we set out to check as many of them off as possible as part of the spend-every-moment-together plan.
Over the next several days, we ran our favorite route, bumping into K-9 Sergeant Jackson and his adopted dad. I’d find a new favorite route in New York, and new faces would become familiar, new regulars who’d get a nod or smile or some belly rubs. That was one of the things I’d wanted from this move.
John and I hit a few of my favorite eateries, but after each, I had to admit I wouldn’t miss the diners as much as I would miss the company.
Tonight, we hit the blackjack tables at the Luxe.
I tapped my card to tell the dealer to hit me, but my attention was on John. I used to take my blackjack very seriously, when Brent and I would play. Tonight I sat catty-corner to John, trying to distract him by running the toe of my sling-back heels up the cuff of his trouser leg.
“You seem a little jumpy tonight, Detective Winston,” I murmured, lifting a brow. “Expecting trouble?”
“Yeah,” John growled, checking his new card. “I’m thinking there’s some under-the-table deal-making going on.”
“You’re saying there’s mischief afoot?”
He choked on a laugh, then shook his head, grinning at me. “The real troublemakers are the ones you don’t expect.”
“Some people are full of surprises.” Propping my elbow on the table and my chin in my hand, I reached over and traced the back of his knuckles with a fingertip. This was as flirty as I got. I didn’t pout or flutter my lashes. I didn’t have a perfect manicure. But John had never seemed the type to go for those things.
“You’re going to go bust,” I predicted.
“You think so?” he asked, as casually as if I’d said it might be hot in Vegas today. “Are you fortune-telling now?”
My finger traced the tendons on the back of his hand. “Nope. I just know you’re distracted.”
He raised his brow. “Woman, I have laser focus. Or how else would I have resisted kissing you for the last year?”
“I’d wondered how you managed.” Coolly, I drew a fingertip over his knuckles again, even though inside I was electric, knowing he’d had his eye on me the whole time too. “Me? I couldn’t back down from a challenge, even from myself.”
His eyes flashed with heat—a warning and a promise—but he didn’t move his hand out of my reach. “You challenged yourself to resist this?”
“Well, sure, it seems pointless now,” I said, drawing another smile from him. I loved being able to touch him—in private, in public, holding his hand above the table and playing footsie below.
As the dealer turned to us, I slid my toe under his pants cuff, teasing until his free hand disappeared from on top of the table and landed on my knee, keeping me still.
He nodded for another card, and his fingers curved around my inner thigh. This would have been the night to wear a skirt.
John, looking unfazed, tapped his fingers on my thigh and lifted the corner of his new card for a peek.
He cursed under his breath, declaring himself bust.
I crowed with triumph, and John shook his head, flipping all his cards face down for the dealer to scoop up. Leaning onto my elbows, I came close to whisper, “You win some, you lose some.”
He drained the last of his drink, his eyes never leaving my face as he set the glass down with precise care. “I haven’t lost anything.” His fingers on my leg inched a little higher. Nothing scandalous. Nothing anyone but the two of us would notice.
But, oh, did I notice.
“I’m on my way to a win, I’d say.” His eyes strayed down to my cleavage, pushed up by the way I was leaning on my folded arms. “You win some, and then I win some, and then maybe you win some more.”
“Big talk, big spender.” I nodded to the impatient dealer. “He’s waiting for you to ante up.”
John gathered his modest stack of chips, tossed a tip to the dealer—extra for having made him wait—and stood, crowding me where I sat, and then crowding me closer with a hand on either side of the stool. “Now we’re on our own time, and here’s what’s going to happen. I got a room here—because you like hotels”—his eyes glinted as he used my words to tease me—“and we’re going to go up there, do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars, and do have hotel sex.”
My blood rushed to the surface of my skin. Fiery. Tingly. Maddening. “And what exactly does hotel sex mean to you?”
“Sex where you can check your worries and inhibitions and bang like you’ll have no regrets tomorrow.”
I only pretended to think about it. Then . . . “Okay. I’m down for that.”
“And trust me. I’m up for it.” He wove his fingers through the hair at the base of my skull. “For you, always.”
11
Mindy
The elevator couldn’t go fast enough. “Why are elevators so slow in this town?”
“To seduce you to stay in the casino,” he said, layering kisses across my neck.
“That makes no sense. We’re already in the elevator,” I teased.