Marriage, Vegas Style, page 5
“There's me, Johnson, McNalley, Ferguson and…your dad.”
Oh crap. And McNalley had called dad from the cocktail party, so he knew she was here in Las Vegas with Noah. Why'd he have to be in the competition?
She raised a finger for him to pause and reached into her purse and dug out her phone. Seventeen missed calls, both from her mother and her father. One from Charlotte. She turned the screen around so he could see the phone log.
“Well, I think it's safe to say they know I'm here with you.”
His lips curved upward in a shark-like grin, his gray eyes twinkling in the candlelight. “I'd say that's a safe bet. Are you going to call them back?”
She shook her head. “Not tonight. I'll call in the morning, when they've had a chance to cool down.” And I've had time to think of a way to break the news of my engagement to my parents. Oh, yeah, and to let Jerome know that the wedding was off. At the thought of avoiding marriage with the slimy toad, she found herself smiling.
“What caused that look, Cyn? It's almost like the cat who swallowed the canary.”
She chuckled. That was pretty apt analogy. “I was picturing the face of my fiance when I break the news the wedding is off.”
Noah's hand paused, his wine glass halfway to his lips. “Fiance? You're engaged?”
“Um, technically my mother accepted the deal and I never said no. There hasn't been a formal announcement yet, just family. I couldn't think of any way to get out of it, and honestly—I just didn't care.”
His eyes narrowed as he studied her face. Darn, she wished she was better at reading him. His stone-faced expression was blank and she didn't have a clue whether he was upset, angry, or secretly thrilled she was leaving her excess baggage behind.
“Who is the lucky guy?”
“You.” She huffed out a breath at his glare. “Fine. You don't know him. His name is Jerome William Fitzgerald, the Third. Family comes from old money, ancestors came over on the Mayflower, et cetera. Mother was thrilled when Jerome showed an interest in dating me.”
“Sounds like a pillar of the community. No chemistry between you?”
“None at all.” She shuddered when she remembered his hands sliding along her back when they'd danced together.
“Well, first thing in the morning, you make sure Jerome William Fitzgerald the Third knows he's no longer your fiance. You've got another one and you're not allowed to have two. I don't share.”
She raised her glass in a toast. “Trust me, two fiances is definitely one too many.”
Chapter Seven
The next morning, Cyn woke before dawn. Her body was still on East Coast time, though she'd been in Vegas for nearly a week. She stretched and remembered the prior evening's events. Ugh, she had to make calls this morning and she wasn't looking forward to dealing with her mother. Jerome, on the other hand, was a call she anticipated.
With a grin she headed for the en suite, slipping her pajama top off and starting the shower. Her thoughts drifted to Noah and she wondered if he was already awake or still sleeping. She'd taken a quick peek into his room the previous day, her curiosity getting the better of her. The man definitely liked his creature comforts.
After testing the temperature, she stepped under the spray, letting the pounding water wake her fully. She had a full list of things to do, including the girl's day out with Kiko Yamamoto, and she looked forward to getting to know the other woman. She tilted her head back and let the warm water caress her skin, luxuriating in the multiple shower heads and their pulsating massage. The bathroom for their suite was a hedonist's fantasy and she intended to indulge for as long as she stayed here.
She whipped her head around at a noise outside the shower stall. Noah stood in the open doorway. His eyes raked her body and she let out a surprised squeak. He didn't move any closer, but the heat in his eyes was unmistakable as he devoured every inch of exposed skin. Her first instinct was to cup her hands protectively over her exposed pink bits, but instead continued washing, running the soapy cloth over her shoulders and down her arms, coating the skin with bubbles. She refused to act like a timid virgin. After all, he was the one invading her space.
“Good morning.” His husky voice slid over her, eliciting an involuntary shiver despite the heat of the pounding water bombarding her. He'd propped his shoulder against the door frame and crossed his ankles, as if they'd done this a thousand times before. Yet the fire burning in the depths of his eyes belied the casualness.
“Hi. You're up early.”
“Um hm. Have a lot to get through today. You still planning to meet Kiko?” He sounded closer and when she glanced toward him, he'd stepped into the bathroom and stood inches from the shower opening.
Gulp.
“Yes.” Speaking that single word took effort because all the moisture in her mouth had dried up. He was shirtless, clad only in a pair of sleep pants, and his upper body was the thing of her fantasies. Sculpted pectoral muscles lightly sprinkled with dark hair which curled around masculine nipples. That dusting of hair led a trail down to the waistband of his pajama bottoms. She had a feeling he'd only donned them after leaving his bed. Noah was the type to sleep unencumbered by clothes, and that errant thought made her swallow.
His light brown hair was mussed and made him seem more approachable, like a little boy who'd just woken up, yet there was nothing childlike about him. He exuded strength and power, and her insides quivered thinking about all his raw sexual prowess directed solely at her.
Whirling around in the shower, she faced away from him and tried to catch her breath. The man exuded power, even this early in the morning, when she wasn't at her sharpest. She needed all her faculties honed and ready to deal with Noah, and she hadn't even had her first cup of coffee yet.
A warm hard body pressed against her spine, and a hand reached past her for the washcloth she held. Oh, hell, he's in the shower with me?
“Let me.”
She released her death grip on the white cloth, and he dampened it under the warm spray, adding more of her favorite soap. The soft glide of his hand smoothed against her shoulders, along the back of her neck, and down her arm. Her head fell forward and she let his fingers work their magic, while her mind rejoiced he was touching her.
This is Noah. This is Noah touching me, Noah leaning against me in the shower. My every wish, every fantasy come to life. Maybe I'm still asleep and this is all a dream.
His hands smoothed the cloth lower still along each knot of her spine, one by one and she braced her arms against the shower walls. When he took a step back, she missed the delicious heat exuding from his body and shivered. Still his hands traveled slowly down, the swirling motion of the washcloth skimming across her butt and down her thighs. Once he reached her ankles, he straightened from his crouch and spun her around.
She kept her eyes screwed tightly shut, afraid of what she'd see if she opened them. Afraid he'd be disappointed with her. She'd long ago accepted that she wasn't built like most women. Her body was shaped along slender lines. Plus, her appetite had been sorely lacking for the last few weeks under her mother's constant barrage and she'd lost pounds she really couldn't afford to lose. Her breasts were on the smallish side. She was lucky if she could buy a B cup, and then only if it had a little extra padding. Most of the time she went without, because it just wasn't worth the aggravation. Some women looked better in their clothes than out of them, and she was a founding member of that club.
Get it over with, she chided herself. Snapping her eyes open, she glared at him, but he wasn't looking at her face. He was looking at her body, and his gaze seemed riveted to her breasts. The hand holding the cloth opened and it dropped to the floor.
One hand reached past her for the soap, and suddenly it was back, sliding across her upper shoulders and across her clavicles. Light, barely there caresses of his fingertips. He rubbed both of his hands together, sharing the soapy bubbles between them before cupping her breasts. She gasped the second his skin touched hers. The roughened calluses on his fingers were exotically abrasive against her and she couldn't hide the moan that escaped her lips.
“Noah.” His name was a raspy whisper and the heat in his eyes flared at the sound. Without a word he leaned forward, and his mouth took hers in a ravaging kiss. He demanded her response and she gave it willingly, desire coursing through her when his lips moved over hers. She opened to him and he surged into her mouth, his tongue dancing with hers in a fierce dance of desire. He took her lips, possessing every inch of her mouth.
His arms held her up, as her knees trembled and he rumbled out a strained laugh. She groaned when his erection slid against her belly. This was what she wanted—what she needed. Slapping a palm against the shower wall, she braced herself, not wanting the kiss to end. Finally, she pulled back, gasping for air. She smirked when she noted he wasn't unaffected. Hard breaths sawed in and out of his lungs, and a quick glance downward showed he'd enjoyed their kiss. Really enjoyed it, since he'd grown bigger and harder than before.
Her fingertips traced the corded muscles of his forearms, noting the tiny scars along the outside. Hard muscle met her hands. Water beaded against his skin and she followed the trail across his chest, tweaking one of his nipples and chuckled when he groaned. Turnabout was fair play after all.
His deep voice whispered, “You are so gorgeous.” He pulled her against him, her breasts rubbing against his chest and she felt every inch of him along her skin, hard and firm. She wiggled against him, and the wiry hairs on his chest tickled across her nipples, driving them to pointed peaks of aching desire. Every nerve in her body demanded he take her. Right now, this very instant.
His chest was honed from years of construction work, and muscles flexed beneath her hands when he moved. Hands grasped her hips, pulling her roughly against his straining erection. His palms were warm as they slid upwards, weighing her breasts, molding them. His thumbs teased her nipples, and she felt a pooling of heat deep in her core. More, she thought. I need more.
A laugh rumbled deep in his throat. “The perfect size, sweetheart. Not too much, just enough.” Bending forward, his mouth encased her breast and she felt the gentle sucking and nearly screamed. Her nipples were always sensitive and the feeling of his tongue abrading against the nub of flesh had her ready to explode.
“Ohhh…that feels so…” Her voice broke off with a stuttered moan.
Warm water continued to pour over her heated skin. Callused hands moved to cup her ass, squeezing and she bucked against him. Her back arched and she gasped. Sensation after sensation roiled through her. Bouncing on her toes, she shifted until her hand reached between their bodies and she grasped him.
This time it was his breath that hitched, and somehow the sound of his indrawn breath made her feel—powerful. His mouth moved swiftly to her other breast, sucking and teasing the nipple and her own sigh was caught in the back of her throat. Her head was spinning from the bombardment of sensations, every nerve in her body tingling in response to his touch.
“I need you.” Her guttural growl echoed loudly in the enclosed space.
“Shh, sweetheart. We'll get there. Just feel.”
When his hand slid between her thighs, electricity zapped straight to her core and she moaned again. Heat spiraled upward through her, like nothing she'd ever experienced. With an effort, she opened her eyes and stared into a pair of brown ones filled with a hunger that matched her own.
Merciless fingers played her like a concerto, and her body soared. Air tickled the wetness at her spread thighs, and she felt her insides coiling, her body responding to every movement of his lips and tongue and hands. Pure pleasure and need raced through her.
“Ahhh! Noah, please.”
Her hips strained toward him, aching for his touch. Her body ached, demanding more, needing to be filled by him. With an arm around her waist, he held her up. His other hand continued to play between her thighs, his fingers working their magic. Kisses and licks and nips caressed along her jawline and neck, and she tilted her head to the side, giving him freer access.
She shuddered as her body tried to make sense of the sensations bombarding it. He bit the muscle of her shoulder and that one movement seemed to set off a chain reaction through her body. Light exploded behind her eyelids and her body quaked. She panted as one finger eased into her entrance, pushing in and awakened nerve endings she'd long ago forgotten.
She shook uncontrollably, unrecognizable whimpering noises coming from her lips. His fingers set up a rhythm, and her body arched as pleasure spiral through her. It felt as though every nerve, every cell in her body converged in one place, right at her aching core. She tightened around his finger. Her nails dug into his forearm when a second finger joined the first. Everything coiled tighter, driving her high until nothing could stop the oncoming storm. She teetered on the edge of excruciating ecstasy and shattered.
Her spine arched when pleasure rocked through her body in vibrating wave after wave. Even as she gasped for breath, Noah's lips encircled her breast, tonguing her nipple, repeating the caress on the other side as well.
Her body clenched, the feel of Noah's touch rocketing through her as pounding waves assailed her and her legs gave out. Only Noah's firm arms kept her from collapsing into a heap at his feet.
Cyn leaned against Noah, silently telling her legs to work. The water had begun to cool in the shower and she drew her body up straight.
“That was—I'm not sure I have words for what it was.” She gave him a tentative smile.
He grinned in response. “I'd say it was a damned fine start to the day.”
She glanced down and noted he was still hard. “What about you? Do you want me to…”
He cupped her cheek and shook his head. “This time was all about you, sweetheart. Now hop out, and I'm going to finish my shower. I don't think you want to be in here when I turn off all the hot water.”
She winced. She hated leaving him with a case of blue balls, especially after he'd given her one of the best orgasms of her life, but it was his choice. Stepping out of the shower, she grabbed a towel off the heated towel bar and wrapped it around her body, noting with a chuckle that his eyes were still glued to her. Well, that answers one question. He likes the way I'm built, even if I'm a little too skinny.
Walking back into her room, she saw her purse sitting on the dresser. Inside, she knew her phone would be loaded with even more missed calls. Probably best to get them out of the way. Then she'd be able to spend the afternoon with Kiko with a clear conscious and not worry about her mother…or Jerome.
The first call was the easiest. Jerome accepted her breaking off the engagement with surprising grace and dignity. Probably for the best, since he hadn't wanted to marry her any more than she wanted to marry him. Family pressure could be a real bitch.
“Stop being a coward and get it over with,” she muttered staring down at the contact list with her mother's name front and center. “If you're lucky, she'll be so pissed she won't even want to talk to you.”
Taking a deep breath, she hit dial.
“Hello, Cynthia.”
“Mother.” Keep your cool, don’t let her get to you.
“Your father is very upset with you, young lady.”
Cyn snorted in a most unladylike fashion. “Is he?”
“You are being such a spoiled brat. When are you going to come to your senses and do your duty? And really, slumming with Noah Cochran? That's beneath you.”
Cyn pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it. Seriously? Her mother considered Noah beneath them? Noah's family might not have the blue blood pedigree of Jerome's, but financially he was definitely on an equal footing.
“Mother, Noah is a fine man. We've always gotten along well. When he asked me to marry him…”
“He what?” Cyn found herself pulling the phone away from her ear again at her mother's screech. Uh oh. Maybe her mother wasn't quite as up-to-date as she'd thought.
“Mother, Noah and I are engaged. I broke off the engagement with Jerome, and I'm going to marry Noah.”
“Over my dead body.” Her mother's retort was quick and hate-filled. Whoa. What had brought on that vehement response?
“Mother, you don't get to have a say in this. I'm well over twenty-one and independent. Your approval doesn't matter, nor is it needed.”
“Young lady, you will get on the first plane back to Boston and you will do it today. I will not put up with your shenanigans for one day longer. Your father and I have allowed you free rein for far too long.”
“Excuse me?” Cyn was astonished those words came out of her mother's mouth. “You've told me what to do, where to go to school, how to dress and who I could associate with my entire life. You've given me free rein? Mother, get a clue. I'm done. Finished. When you had father cut off all my funds, that was the last straw. I don't care if I have to pick up trash off the streets to make a dollar, I will never be dependent on your money ever again.”
“Stop being childish, Cynthia. I'll talk to Jerome and straighten everything out. The wedding will take place as planned.”
Her mother truly was clueless. She was like a horse with blinders on, and couldn't see anything that wasn't directly in front of her face. If she didn't see it, then it didn't exist in her exalted world.
“No. I'm engaged to Noah, and I plan to help him in every way I can. That includes working closely with him on the casino complex proposal.”
She heard her mother's swiftly indrawn breath, and knew she'd finally hit home. Ignoring her mother's dictates about marriage were one then, but striking at the family's finances? Inconceivable.
A movement out of the corner of her eye distracted her, and she saw Noah walk out of the bathroom to lean against the dresser. He quirked a brow and she mouthed, “mother.” He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, obviously intent on listening in.
“You ungrateful wretched girl. Would you truly stab your father in the back, take away business from your own family?” She could hear the broken sob in her mother's voice, and it was as phony as the platinum blonde color she had applied to her hair every six weeks.
