Eight Dates With Romance: An S. L. Scott Valentine's Day Collection (8 page)

“Yes, I want that.” I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him slowly down to me. “I’d like that a lot.”
Kiss
. “Even the spontaneous orgasming part.”
Kiss
. “Especially the spontaneous orgasming part.”
Kiss
.

I step back from him, grabbing my purse and head for the elevator. “I hate to orgasm and go, but I have an early morning meeting.”

“I think your embarrassment is now called bragging. Ms. Braggy Braggerton, how’s Sunday night for you? Can you fit me in?”

I glance down at his erection that’s straining against his pants, then back up and reply, “That remains to be seen … or should I say felt, but I’m free that evening. My place. I’ll text you directions.” The elevator doors open and I step in.

“I’m too much of a gentleman to reply to that, but I want you to know that I think you’re pretty damn fantastic.” He leans his shoulder against the door that is trying to close on him.

“Also,” he says, stepping back, but I finish his sentence, “I owe you one.”

I see him fist-pump just as the doors close. I laugh aloud because I’m happy, because no one is around to judge me, or take away how perfect this night was.

C
ONTINUED
in the bestselling From the Inside Out Series. Each book in the series (Scorned, Jealousy, Dylan, and Austin) can be purchased separately or as one collection.

http://tinyurl.com/jxuu5ls

D
alton has invited
Holliday to meet him at the Eiffel Tower Restaurant in the Paris Hotel in Las Vegas. When she shows up, it is closed, so she starts to leave.

“
W
hat do
I know about keeping a woman happy? I haven’t had a relationship that lasted. The one thing I have learned though is an apology should be genuine or it’s pointless.” ~ Johnny Outlaw

“
M
ademoiselle
, wait. Is your name Holliday Hughes by chance?” The hostess asks after tapping me on the shoulder. Startled, I turn around and see fascination written all over her face.

“Yes,” I reply, sucking down my disappointment that Dalton’s not here.

“I’m sorry. I was told the woman would be wearing a black dress.” She smiles and says, “Mr. Outlaw is waiting upstairs for you.”

“He is?”

She continues smiling as the elevator doors that will lead me to the restaurant open. Swinging her arm out for me to enter, she says, “He is.”

Just before the doors close, I ask, “What about Mr. Dalton?”

She tilts her head confused, but the doors close too soon for her to respond.
It was rhetorical anyway.

I grip the railing as the elevator takes me up. When the doors open, I hesitate and take a deep breath before walking out. I go to the bar, instantly spying Dalton across the room standing near the large windows. The Bellagio Fountains are lit up, as if on demand, as the man they’re performing for watches. His silhouette is dark against the bright and choreographed water rising high into the sky. Even with the dancing water, he outshines it all.

Walking slowly across the room, I’m not sure what I’m going to say. John Mayer is crooning through the speakers above and it feels out of place for the French setting. I stop next to Dalton, watching the fountains move across the lake, and whisper, “Hi.”

Dalton’s eyes flash to mine. “Hi.”

With both of us watching the fountains outside, I say, “I didn’t take you for a John Mayer fan.”

“I’m taking notes. He’s a king at romancing the ladies.”

“I hear he’s gifted in other ways as well.” I turn to look at him, really look at him. “Not that I would know or anything.”

“Drink?” he asks.

His drink is on the table next to him, it looks like whiskey or bourbon—either will do. “I’ll have what you’re having.” I pick up the glass and take two sips.

He chuckles under his breath. “Literally, you mean, you’ll take what I’m having.”

I shrug. “Figured since we’ve swapped spit already, what does it matter now.”

His tone turns serious. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For not telling you who I was.”

Guess it’s better to deal with this now then to beat around the bush. “I’ve been thinking a lot about it, trying to understand why you didn’t tell me.”

“It wasn’t to hurt you,” he says.

I turn back to appreciate the fountains before the show ends. “But why lie?”

He’s next to me watching the show, but his hand crosses the divide and takes mine in his. “I didn’t want to ruin it.”

I whisper, “You didn’t.”

His hand goes flat against the glass and he says, “It’s magical.”

“The Fountains?”

“No.” He doesn’t say more. He doesn’t have to. I feel it too.

I place my hand flat on the glass next to his, our thumbs touching. “What now?”

When he looks at me, light reflects in his eyes, and he smiles. “I thought we’d eat, then move on and cover a few what-ifs you might have.”

“Hope you’ve got some time because I have a whole slew of what-ifs to cover.”

“I’ve got all night, but my flight is at ten in the morning.”

“You’re leaving Las Vegas?”

“We were only here for meetings and the gig. Are you going back to Los Angeles tomorrow?”

“Yes, back to the real world.”

“This world is real, Holliday. It’s my world and I’m asking for it not to end here, for us to get to know each other better.”

Every girl dreams of hearing someone like him say that to them, but as I look around, it’s not just words with him. He means it. “Tempting. You did rent an entire restaurant just for us, after all. That’s quite the romantic overture.”

“Guess it’s a good thing you came then,” he says. The lake across the street goes dark, the show officially over, leaving us lit by a flickering candle in the center of the table. He takes my hand down from the glass and faces me. “Maybe we can start with a meal. Will you stay for dinner?”

“Only if I can apologize first?”

“For what?” He repeats what I said to him earlier.

“For letting my own insecurities judge you instead of taking you for who you’ve shown me.”

His hand touches my cheek gently, and he says, “No need for sorries. I’m new at this too.”

“You’re new to dating?” I ask, joking with him.

“No. Just new to dealing with real feelings.”

Silence, as my breath is taken away, stolen by him just like my heart. I want to kiss him, but I don’t.

Moving behind me, he reaches and pulls out my chair. After sitting down across from me, he subtly bites his bottom lip. I remember him doing that last night and liking it.

A waiter introduces himself and I place my order, “I’ll have another one of these please.”

Dalton orders the same, then leans forward, and whispers, “Thank you for coming. I didn’t know if you would. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” I glance down and pull my napkin into my lap. “I’m glad I did, but why did you want to meet here?”

“I hated how things were left. I did that. I’m sorry. Our time together meant more to me than you know, you mean more. Already.” He chuckles to himself, embarrassed. “I feel crazy thinking stuff like this much less saying it.”

“I’m just a girl. There’s nothing special going on here.” I lean forward to whisper to him, but the waiter arrives with our drinks, setting them down in front of us.

“We’ll need a minute more before we order. Thank you,” Dalton says to the waiter.

Watching him speak, it’s hard to imagine he’s the same guy who was singing on that stage tonight. His body is relaxed and I sense he feels calm, safe around me.

When we’re alone again, I say, “I’m not fishing for compliments here. I can get a date, but you’re trying so hard. What are you trying to convince me of?”

“I don’t know,” he says, looking into my eyes. “I trust you. Even though you’re not fishing for compliments, I have a million I can give you.” He spins his glass slowly between his fingers with noticeable strength and agility. I don’t fill the moment between us, wanting to hear more. “You’re different, Holliday. I don’t need a week to know that. I knew the minute I met you.” Shaking his head, he smiles. “I still can’t believe you agreed to leave with me.”

“I’m in Vegas and you know what they say when you’re here.”

“That’s not how I see you.”

My tone comes out flatter than I intend. “You keep saying that, but that’s who I wanted to be this weekend, just for a weekend, someone else, someone carefree again.”

“I wanted to be Jack Dalton again.”

And with that simple comment, my heart melts for this man—a man who just wanted to be who he is on the inside. I get up and walk around the table. He slides back in his chair unsure of what I’m going to do. I straddle him, not caring how it looks to the few people working. After wrapping my arms around his neck, I kiss him, leaving him no outs or choice in the matter. He wants the same. Wrapping his arms around my waist, he pulls me closer and deepens the kiss. Our tongues meet and slowly mingle; my hips start a slow gyrate.

“I want you,” he murmurs against my mouth, refusing to give up the kissing for words.

Moving up his cheek, I place kisses all the way to his forehead and down on top of his eyelids. His hands hold my hips against him and I feel him grow beneath me. A moan escapes as I drop my head back, enthralled by the feel of him between my legs.

“Shhhh,” he whispers in my ear. “They can hear you.”

My eyes open and I take a deep breath. “We should leave.” I maneuver my leg from over him, standing up. “Like right now.”

“Fuck, let’s go,” he says anxiously. He grabs my hand and turns me fast, pulling me behind as he rushes toward the bar where the waiter is stationed. “We’re gonna go. You have my card. Give yourself a big tip and thank you.”

“No dinner, Sir?” the waiter calls after us, confused.

Dalton’s pace never slows as he heads for the elevator. “Nope. Thanks.”

I keep my mouth shut, fighting all the tingles bursting beneath my skin while trying to regulate my breathing. I don’t think I’ve ever been so hot for someone in my life and the thought of a cab ride … damn, it adds to the whole experience.
How am I not going to have sex with this man in that cab?
That will be the tricky part.

The elevator doors open. I’m swung inside and he presses me into the corner. Dalton’s pelvis is against mine as he kisses me, holding me in place. My only thought is that I totally want to have sex with him in this elevator.

One of his hands squeezes my breast as the other squeezes my ass. I lift one leg up, wrapping it around his thigh and he begins to grind into me. The elevator doors open and we hear a clearing of the throat.

We jump apart, Dalton flying to the other side of the elevator trying to act nonchalant. “Okay,” he says, walking forward and talking in a business tone. “We’re here.”

“Yes, Mr. Outlaw,” the hostess says with a huge flirty smile. The top button of her black blazer seems to have popped open revealing the very low cut vest she’s wearing underneath. “I hope you’ll join us again.”

He slips her money, and says, “Thank you for staying and working late.”

“My pleasure. Can I be of service to you?”

Whatever she means by that, that’s my cue and I take his arm, sliding mine around his as he replies. “No, that’s all. Thank you.”

After a kiss to my temple, he says, “I need to get you to bed.”

“I’m liking this idea a lot.”

We start walking toward the doors that leads to the cab line, but I stop him, pulling him just past the exit.

He looks at me, questioning. “What?”

I pin him against the wall and kiss him again. With my hands on his chest, I say, “I don’t care who sees us or what anyone thinks of me. I want you, Jack Dalton. I want all of you. The good. The bad. And the rock star. No holding back on me. Okay?”

A devilish grin appears. “Fuck you like a rock star?”

I lick my lips, as I stare up into his green eyes. “Exactly.”

“No more wasting time. I’m either getting a room here or we’re heading back to the hotel. Your choice.”

“Let’s go. I have a few dirty ideas planned for that cab ride back.”

His eyebrows go up. “Damn, woman,” he says, adjusting his erection. It’s impossible for him to hide. “We’ve gotta go now.”

We hurry outside the doors, rushing between the luggage of hotel guests coming and going, but when we see the cab line, it’s too long. Dalton stops and waves a bellhop over. “Any cars for hire?”

The bellhop’s eyes go wide as he stares at him, speechless.

Dalton smiles and says, “Hey man, any limos or sedans available?”

“Holy shit! You’re Johnny Outlaw.”

We look around as a few people glance our way. Fortunately, none stop.

“Yep. You want to take a pic or something?”

“No way! For real?”

“For real, but then get a car for us. Okay?”

“Yes, sir, right this way,” the bellhop says, checking me out and giving Dalton an approving smile.

Dalton snaps his fingers to get the guy’s attention. “Keep your eyes up here.”

I blush, finding his jealousy kind of attractive, but I’ll never admit to such a thing.

The bellhop signals a Town Car over and opens the back door wide. “He’ll take you wherever you need to go.”

I slip inside the car and Dalton slaps my ass. “Don’t get too cozy in there without me,” he warns.

The bellhop pulls his phone out and they take a picture together right before Dalton jumps in and shuts the door quickly. With his hand on my knee, he greets the driver. “Evening. The Palatial please.”

“Yes, Sir.”

The privacy glass goes up and I’m grabbed by the hips and pulled down. My T-shirt is pushed up and his mouth is on my stomach. While grinding against me, his sweet kisses turn feverish as the skin of my middle is covered. When he reaches my tattoo, he stops and lifts up. Looking at it, he smiles, and says, “I didn’t think I’d see this beauty again.” As my fingers run gingerly over the colorful design, he places one delicate kiss on it. “Have I ever told you how fucking sexy I find this tattoo?”

“You haven’t told me a lot of things, but we have time.”

With a wry grin, he pushes my shirt up even further while pulling the cup of my bra down, sucking in a nipple with the fast action. His pelvis starts moving again, his hardness pressing between my legs and I drop my head back, my mouth coming open. The car is hot inside, the windows steaming up.

I love the feel of his mouth taking me so passionately. He bites just enough to send sparks through my body. My hand flies to the window to anchor myself as he pushes his body harder against mine.

Moving to the other breast, he repeats the beautiful torture, my hand losing leverage as it slides across the wet window. The car comes to an abrupt stop and we slide off in a heated heap onto the floorboard. “Shit. Are you okay?” he asks as the car’s horn honks loudly.

“You broke my fall,” I reply, starting to laugh. I climb back onto the seat and look out the window to see what the commotion is as Dalton gets up. “Traffic jam.”

“We’re only to Aria. Damn it.” He looks at me and I can see a plan forming by his expression. “You up for an adventure?”

That’s the second time I’ve been asked that tonight. And I give him the same answer I gave Tracy, “I’m always up for an adventure.”

“C’mon.” He slips out the door, then helps me out.

The driver’s window rolls down and he starts apologizing, begging us to get back in. Dalton waves. “No worries, man. We’ll leg it from here. I left money on the seat.”