Читать книгу Forbidden Sins - J. Margot Critch - Страница 10

IF THERE WAS ever a time for Gabe Foster to be content, it was right now. He had everything a young man could want—wealth, prestige, a successful career and promising future, any woman he wanted and good friends. He’d just returned home to Las Vegas from a month-long work trip to Hong Kong, where he’d helped facilitate a merger of one of his biggest clients. The trip had earned him and his firm, Burnham & Associates, a significant amount of money, and because of it, he was a shoo-in to become a senior partner, the position he’d been groomed to take since he’d been a young adult.

“Your shot, sir.” A voice at his side broke his reverie.

“Sure, thanks.” He covered for his lack of attention, reaching for his glass.

“No, you’re still the shooter.” The stickman gestured once more to the pair of dice on the craps table in front of him.

“Oh damn, sorry!” Gabe snatched up the dice and surveyed the table. Just like him to zone out in the middle of a heater with nine hundred dollars at stake.

Everything was going well for Gabe. He should have been on top of the world. But there was something missing. But with a table full of gamblers, he didn’t exactly have time to consider what it was. Introspection was for quiet mornings over coffee, not at a craps table during a winning streak.

He rattled the dice in his hand and tossed them down the table, expertly bouncing them off the end. Five and three.

The dealer flipped the button to the eight on the felt-top table, his hands moving nimbly as a flurry of bets descended on the surface. A pair of frat brothers were clapping their hands, praying for protection from “Big Red,” the seven roll that would end this streak. To Gabe’s right a retired dentist and his wife were having the time of their lives in a real Vegas moment.

Gabe was flying solo tonight. He’d met with his friends, the Brotherhood, at Di Terrestres. But they’d all gone home early in the evening—heading home, or to the office.

Gabe hadn’t wanted to stick around Di Terrestres—the erotic club they owned, where people could come together, socialize without having to worry about their extracurricular activities and more basic, biological proclivities being reported by the press or gossip blogs. Of all of the businesses owned by the Brotherhood, Di Terrestres was the crown jewel. The ultra-exclusive club, which boasted clothing-optional areas and playrooms catering to more erotic tastes, had made them all millionaires many times over, and made them a hot commodity among the rich, famous and influential.

It wasn’t his problem that all his friends had headed home to wives and fiancées, or had chosen to work on his first night back in the city. He was a young, single, rich and reasonably good-looking man in one of the hottest party destinations in the world. He could find fun on his own. He looked up at the crowd that had surrounded the table, all winning, urging him to keep playing. Strangers who he held—their chips on the table—in his palm along with the hottest pair of dice he’d ever encountered.

He looked past the group, across the casino floor, as two women left the nearby nightclub. Speaking of the hottest he’d ever encountered. Both were gorgeous, but one held his attention. She was tall, her long dark hair falling past her shoulders to the center of her back. Her fair skin told him she hadn’t spent much time underneath the scorching Las Vegas sun. Definitely a tourist. The women stopped at the nearby casino bar. The brunette turned her head, and somehow, their eyes connected over the frenetic energy of the floor. He smiled, and so did she, before she turned back to her friend and sipped from the glass the bartender had brought her. The noise, the chaos, the bright lights dimmed, and all he could focus on was the elegant, beautiful woman in the short strapless dress, as she said something to her friend and again looked in his direction. She smiled. Gabe knew a signal when he saw one.

Taking a step back from the table, Gabe handed the dice to the dealer. “I think that’s it for me tonight,” he told everyone. “It’s been fun.” He started to turn away and, removing his phone from his pocket, checked the time—the night was still young and so was he. The man who’d been standing next to him—the one who, thanks to Gabe, had won a substantial stack of chips—called to him as he walked away. “Hey, buddy, what about your chips?”

He looked down at his own newly won stack and pointed to the man. “You’re up. Let it ride.”

* * *

Ellie Carrington wiggled her toes in her stiletto booties. Her feet were tired, her toes most likely covered in blisters, but the two straight hours of dancing with her best friend, Rachel, had been worth it. “That was so much fun,” Ellie told her. “I can’t believe I almost spent the night at the office.”

“Aren’t you glad I convinced you to ditch work and party?”

Ellie thought about the unopened emails filling her inbox and tried to contain her grimace. Since the day she’d started work at her father’s law firm two weeks ago, she’d gotten right down to work, aiding some of the more senior associates with their clients. “Despite the things I’ll have to catch up on tomorrow, yes I am. But just this one time, though.” This was just one small step back for her, a slip back into the world of old Ellie.

“Why were you working anyway? I thought you had dinner plans with your father,” Rachel said.

Ellie’s laugh was short and humorless. “He canceled.”

“Again?”

“Yup. That’s the third time.”

Ellie had arrived in Las Vegas two weeks ago. After completing law school, she’d started working at her father’s law firm as a junior associate.

Her reasons for coming to Las Vegas had been threefold. She mentally ticked them off again in her head, as she’d done dozens of times before: 1) to practice law and work for her father, one of the most prominent and well-regarded lawyers in the state; 2) rehab her image—the celebutante party girl she’d been had finally grown up and gotten her life together. She was an adult, she had a career and hopefully the gossip blogs would forget about her forever; and 3) most important, to rebuild her relationship with her father, Charles. Ellie had figured that number three would be the easy part. “I don’t know what he wants. I moved here to work for him, hoping we would have the relationship we never had, but it turns out I’m still the daughter he never wanted.”

Rachel put her hand over Ellie’s. “Don’t think like that. It’s his loss. But that means that your weekend has been freed up, doesn’t it? What do you say tomorrow night we stay in? You can do whatever work you need to catch up on, and then we’ll power up Netflix, throw on our pj’s and indulge in some pizza and prosecco? Been a while since we’ve done the Three Ps.”

Ellie laughed. Ellie had met Rachel years ago, back in their wilder, party-hopping days. Rachel had been a popular teen music sensation in a self-destructive downward spiral, and in her, Ellie had found the perfect outlet for her own teen angst and partying antics. Together, they’d had some wild times, and then both cleaned up their acts. Ellie chose law school, and Rachel had taken to acting. They’d stuck together into adulthood, and despite it all remained the best of friends.

“Sounds like fun,” she said, and sipped from her wineglass. She looked around the casino. She was new to Vegas, but she loved it. Ellie fed off the energy, and she smiled. The chaos fueled her, and for the first time in a long time, she felt at home—she was built for Vegas.

It was a different world to her. In Vegas, she could live her life without paparazzi following her every movement. Nobody tried to get photos of her or Rachel being drunken messes outside of nightclubs, or even when either of them made a trip to the grocery store, just because she had been the rebellious teenage daughter of an aging D-list actress who couldn’t leave the spotlight. In Vegas, Ellie blended into the crowd, and in a weird way, the wild debauchery of the crowd made her feel safe. Shouts from a nearby craps table caught her attention. Someone was on a winning streak. Unlike in LA, regular people could be the center of attention in Las Vegas. Everyone was only a roll, a hand, a pull of a slot machine away from celebrity or notoriety. She looked at the excitement at the table and she saw the man behind the ruckus.

His excited smile turned serious when his eyes met hers. She was too far away to see what color they were, but from her seat, she could tell they were more vibrant than any flashing light in the casino. His white shirt was open at the collar, revealing tanned skin. He was gorgeous. She looked away and turned back to Rachel, who was watching her.

“You might as well go talk to him,” Rachel said.

“Nope. This is a girls’ night. No boys allowed.”

“Who made that rule?”

Ellie looked back to the man and saw that he was still watching her. She smiled again, knowing she had him. She watched him pass the dice to the dealer, and walk away from the table to the disappointed groans of the other patrons.

Ellie stood. “I’ll be right back,” she told Rachel, and headed in the guy’s direction. Rachel said something she didn’t hear over the din of the busy casino, and she turned her head. “What was that? Oof—” the air rushed out of her lungs as she smashed into a hard, male chest. She was unsteady on her high heels, but he reached for her, dropping his phone and catching her before she fell, while his cell phone cracked against the floor instead.

“Oh hey,” he said, his strong fingers gripping her upper arms, supporting her. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Ellie looked down and saw the cracks that lined his screen. “I’m doing a lot better than your phone, at least.”

He looked down. “Oh, dammit.”

“Sorry about that,” she told him as he released her and picked up the device.

“It’s okay. I really should have been watching where I was going. It was time to get another one anyway.” He shrugged. “I was on my way over to talk to you, so mission accomplished, I guess.” He extended his hand to her in introduction, and when he looked at her, she could see the interest in his eyes. “Gabe,” he said, a grin producing deep dimples below his chiseled cheekbones.

She shook his hand. His fingers were large around her own. “Hi, Gabe. I’m Ellie.”

“Ellie,” he repeated, as if indulging in her name. “That’s pretty. Are you here alone?” he asked, looking around.

“She’s here with me,” Rachel said from somewhere behind Ellie. She couldn’t believe she’d completely forgotten about her friend, who’d been sitting at the bar.

When Gabe’s eyes widened, and he smiled, Ellie could read the question in his expression. “Not like that,” she clarified. “We’re here together. But not here together.”

He reached past Ellie and extended his hand to Rachel. “I’m Gabe.”

“I heard.” She shook his hand. “Rachel.”

“Why so interested if I’m here alone?” Ellie raised a playful eyebrow.

“I was wondering if there was a boyfriend around here who would try to kick my ass for offering to buy you both a drink.”

“What makes you think we won’t try to kick your ass?” Ellie asked him. She already liked the guy, and would definitely have a drink with him, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want to give him a hard time. He had to earn her time.

“I think you might try,” he concurred. He cleared his throat. “At the expense of my physical well-being, would you ladies like to have a drink with me?”

Ellie looked at Rachel, who was doing something on her phone, ignoring them, and she knew her friend wasn’t interested in being part of the conversation. She turned back to Gabe. “Excuse us,” she told him, and took Rachel’s arm, pulling her a few feet away from Gabe.

“What’s up?” Rachel asked, looking past her in Gabe’s direction.

“Would you mind going home without me?” Ellie asked, looking over her shoulder at Gabe, who was watching them.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’ll be fine.”

“You think that’s a good idea?”

Ellie shook her head. “Probably not. But when have I ever been a fan of good ideas?”

Rachel shrugged. “All right, I’m not your mother—although, your mother would be all over this—so I’m going to go. But you have to promise me you’ll be careful. You don’t know this guy.”

“I’ve got pepper spray in my purse, and I’m not afraid to use it.”

Rachel nodded, and walked past Ellie to Gabe. “Hey, Mr. Smooth-Talker. Let me see your driver’s license.” Following behind, Ellie laughed at her friend’s brashness.

“What?” he asked, clearly taken aback.

Rachel held out her hand. “Let me see it.”

Gabe didn’t argue, and Ellie watched as he produced his ID.

Rachel was lightning quick in snapping a picture of it with her phone. She grinned at Gabe. “Now if anything happens to my friend, I’ll know right where to send the police. Ellie, text me later so I know you’re safe. Let me know anytime if you need me to pick you up.”

“Cross my heart, I will.” She watched Rachel leave, and when she was out of earshot, Ellie turned to Gabe. “Sorry about her.”

“It’s fine,” he said with another amazing smile. “She’s just looking out for you. Being a good friend.”

“She is. She’s amazing. We’ve known each other since we were teenagers.”

“That’s nice. It’s good for someone to have your back.”

“She’s like the only person,” Ellie muttered. She hadn’t meant to say that, but the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.

He frowned at her, and she knew she’d inadvertently revealed too much. “How about we get that drink?” He reached for her hand, but she pulled back from him.

“Why are you so sure I’m eager to go anywhere with a stranger?”

“Because you let your friend go home without you.”

“That’s true,” she conceded.

“All right, why don’t I tell you a little about myself? Then I won’t be such a stranger.”

“Okay,” she said, leaning casually against a cement pillar. “Tell me. You from here?”

“Yeah, I grew up here. Proudly battle-born-and-raised,” he told her, referencing the Nevada state nickname. “Except for the time I spent in England for university.”

“How nice.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a lawyer. Business law,” she answered, still not used to saying the words. They didn’t feel natural.

His eyes widened, then narrowed in scrutiny. “Me, too,” he answered. “Strange we’ve never crossed paths before. I would have definitely remembered meeting you.”

“I’ve only been here for a couple of weeks. I just finished school back east.”

“New to the city,” he said with a nod. “I’d pegged you for a tourist. So, you’re brand-new and fresh-faced?”

“I guess so.”

“I guess it makes sense that we haven’t met. I just returned from Hong Kong, myself. I’ve been working over there the past couple of months.”

“Oh nice. So corporate law isn’t all filings and research.”

“It’s all of those things. But sometimes they let you go to exotic locales to file and research. How do you like practicing so far?”

“It’s a lot of work. Which I don’t need to tell you.” She started to think about her father, and how he would more than disapprove of her night spent on the Vegas Strip instead of in her office. She pushed it aside. “You know, can we not talk about work? I really need to take a night off.”

He looked relieved at her suggestion. “That sounds good to me. Can I buy you that drink now?” He held out his hand to her and looked around the busy casino. “I know a great place here. It’s quieter. We’ll be able to talk some more.”

She looked Gabe over. The smart, sensible thing would be to thank him for the offer, catch up with Rachel and go home.

But for one night, Ellie didn’t want to be smart. She wanted to have fun. Between her years in law school and her new job, she’d been working so hard lately, in her sensible suits, that it was time to finally release old Ellie for one more wild night. One more night of fun, that’s it. She’d earned it. And as she watched Gabe, with his cocky grin and mischievous eyes, she knew that he was the way to do so. Curving the corners of her lips upward, she put her hand in his and said, “Sure.”

As her fingers interlocked with Gabe’s and her palm flattened against his, an electric shock shot through her body, and she looked up at his profile. He must have felt her gaze on him, because he looked down at her and winked. It was dumb, reckless even, to go off with a stranger, something that she’d never done before. But something about Gabe made her brain shut off and follow her intuition—it told her that she was right where she wanted to be.

The crowd seemed to part before them as they made their way across the casino floor. Ellie was barely aware of the people around them as Gabe led her through the throngs, expertly navigating the crowd. She wasn’t sure if she was imagining many of them looking in their direction. She stiffened, wondering if any of them knew her from the days when she topped the gossip blogs, or maybe they knew Gabe, or maybe they were just admiring him, paying attention to the sexiest man in the room. He had certainly gotten her attention, Ellie reasoned.

She was surprised when he didn’t lead her to the trendy nightclub, but instead bypassed the lineup and led her to a staircase that took them to a quieter area above the casino floor. The bar had an air of sophistication and exclusivity. Class. It was quieter, less chaotic than the casino below. The place felt like Gabe.

After he shook the hand of the doorman, palming him some amount of money, an attendant led them to a secluded corner at the far end, a semicircle booth ensconced in a nook built into the wall to ensure them privacy. Ellie settled into the rich, leather booth, as Gabe did the same. When the server came to take their order, Gabe plucked the menu from the table.

“What’s your poison?” he asked, passing her the drink menu.

“I’m not picky,” she told him.

After a brief deliberation, Gabe ordered a bottle of champagne for them.

“A bottle?”

“Well, they don’t exactly sell the good stuff by the glass,” he told her with a sly wink.

“Champagne, though?”

He shrugged casually. “I don’t know about you, but I feel like celebrating.”

She sat a little closer to him, bringing her knee in contact with his thigh, pivoting her upper body to face him on the couch. “What are you celebrating?”

“I have a feeling I’m going to become the newest partner at my firm,” he told her.

Ellie’s eyes widened in awe. Gabe was clearly a young man, and making partner at a law firm was quite an accomplishment. “That’s awesome. Where do you work?”

He shook his head. “I thought we weren’t going to talk about work?”

“You’re right,” she said.

“But I guess there’s something else I’m celebrating,” he told her, his voice dropping to a dangerously low and sexy murmur, as he tilted his head toward her.

She inhaled another lungful of his light, but spicy cologne. Ellie had never been a connoisseur of male cologne, but she needed to know what Gabe used, so she could cover her pillow and everything else she owned in the scent. “And what’s that?” she asked, her voice an almost breathless whisper.

He grinned and leaned closer, bringing his lips to her ear. “Meeting you,” he said with a whisper. His breath warmed her skin, dancing over the sensitized nerve endings of her throat.

The sheer cheesiness of the line made her eyes roll. “Oh please.” Ellie laughed and lightly pushed his shoulder. But touching him proved to be a mistake, because instead of removing her hand, she smoothed her palm over his chest, under his jacket, over the fine material of his shirt. His chest was firm, warm, solid muscle. The man worked out. But when he put his hand on top of hers, stopping the movement, trapping her hand in the spot over his heart, she could feel a gentle thrum travel through her, until it settled in a pool of desire between her thighs. So in tune with Gabe was she that she was sure she could hear the beating of his heart—maybe it was her own—and their eyes connected as the rest of the room disappeared.

Ellie’s mouth went dry and a heat radiated from her chest upward. Gone was the moment of levity they’d shared, the air heavy with sensuality. She was so caught up in the man—the stranger—sitting beside her that she failed to notice the server approach. She backed up and, startled, reluctantly pulled away from Gabe, as the waitress presented the bottle and poured them each a glass before placing it in the ice bucket and quietly walking away.

Alone again, Gabe passed her one of the glasses and took the opportunity to sit closer to her, shifting to more fully face her in the center of the booth, placing his arm across the back. Even though he wasn’t touching her, she could feel his proximity, his gravity forcing her closer, drawing her near. She couldn’t fight it if she wanted to—she didn’t want to—so Ellie pivoted her body in his direction, crossing her legs, bringing her calves into contact with his shin. They didn’t speak, but Ellie could feel the waves of sexual tension that radiated between them.

Gabe held his glass aloft. “To us.”

“To new starts,” she added, clinking her glass with his.

They sipped their champagne, watching each other over the rims of their glasses, and she sighed when Gabe made the first move, dropping his hand on her thigh.

“You know, I’m pretty sure you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he told her.

High-class club or dive bar, men, it seemed, were the same all over. She rolled her eyes. “That’s original,” she told him. Ellie wondered how many women fell for a line, especially when it was uttered by a man who looked like Gabe. He would have to do better than that.

“Okay, what if I asked you if your legs were tired?”

“Or if it hurt when I fell from heaven?”

“Well, that’s it, I guess.” He moved his arm away and shrugged. She missed his warmth almost immediately, and all she wanted was for him to put his arm back, to touch her again. “Those are all of my good lines.” He laughed, a deep, rich sound that filled the space around them, and he raised his glass to his mouth and drained it. He leaned toward the table and poured himself another. “More?”

“Yeah. Thanks,” she said, holding her own now-empty glass out. He filled it and she sipped again. The carbonated bubbles tickled her nose.

Gabe’s hand found her thigh again, and somehow, through the lust-and-champagne-heavy fog, a moment of clarity shone through. Ellie backed away slightly. “Wait a minute,” she said, and he removed his hand, leaning away from her, thankfully giving her the space she needed, where she wasn’t under the influence of him and whatever cologne he was wearing. But when she caught her breath, all she longed for was another indulgent breath of him.

But she didn’t do this. Ellie Carrington didn’t fall so hard for men. She didn’t chase them. She didn’t jump into bed with just any good-looking guy. She needed to keep her cool. She wanted Gabe, and she could tell he wanted her. But he was going to have to work for it. She couldn’t let him know that he’d already won her over.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Don’t think that just because you got us this table and forked over way too much money for this bottle of champagne, I’m going to sleep with you,” she warned him. Even though Ellie would probably end the evening riding him like a cowgirl, he didn’t have to know it would be that easy.

A quick grin split his face. Those dimples again. “What makes you think I’m going to ask to sleep with you?”

She could still feel the ghost of his touch on her thigh. “The way you’re looking at me, the expensive champagne. Stuff like that normally comes with a price, if you know what I mean.”

“Oh, I know what you mean, but maybe I’m thirsty.”

“I’ll bet you are.” She quirked an eyebrow and he laughed.

“Maybe I wanted to share a drink with a beautiful woman.” He took a drink from his glass, as if to prove his point. “But so we’re clear, Ellie, there’s no obligation on either of our parts here. We can just sit here, two strangers sharing a bottle of champagne. And if the evening leads to more—and I hope it does—that’s great. If not...” he shrugged and drank again. “Who knows, later tonight you might be begging me to fuck you—” she nearly crumbled at his use of the word, but he shook his head “—and I’ll just put you in a cab to go home.”

Ellie laughed, knowing he was full of it. She could see the way that he looked at her, the way he’d caressed her thigh, and knew that if she was willing, there was no way he’d be putting her in a car. At that moment, Ellie knew that she would end up in bed with this man that evening. There was no other option. She felt powerless to the hold he had over her, his captivating emerald eyes, the upward curve of his lush lips. Ellie didn’t make a habit of sleeping around, or having one-night stands—nor would she judge anyone who did—not since she’d left her partying days behind her, but as she watched Gabe over the rim of her glass, she knew she would make an exception for him. Ellie was intrigued by Gabe, and she liked him already. So, she decided not to fight whatever was happening between them, and drank her champagne instead.

* * *

After an hour, the lights at the bar had dimmed a little, setting a more intimate mood. Gabe poured the last few drops of champagne into his glass, returned the bottle to the ice bucket upside down, and settled back in the booth, feeling as mellow and relaxed as he possibly could with the intense hum of desire buzzing through him. Ellie had kept her position, turned facing him, her long legs curled so her feet were underneath her, knees resting on his thigh, dangerously close to his dick.

He wasn’t sure when he’d last enjoyed the company of a woman like Ellie. She was gorgeous and sexy, but she was also smart, quick, funny, and they shared some sort of connection that had eluded him for a while now. She was easy to talk to, and when the server came back, he didn’t want to leave so they ordered another bottle.

“So, what are you doing on the Strip tonight?” she asked. “I might be new in town, but I know that this is mainly a tourist place.”

Gabe thought about his response. With his friends all busy with their own lives, he had headed out on a solo mission. Not wanting to be alone in his empty house, the Strip seemed like a good way to kill a night. He’d been right. He’d been craving excitement. Something different. Something new. Something wild before he signed his life away to Charles Burnham, his boss and mentor, and as he looked over at Ellie, he knew he’d found it with her. “I came here tonight because I knew I wouldn’t see anyone I know here. I was looking for something different.”

He could feel Ellie watching him and he knew he’d revealed too much. “It feels like there’s a story there,” she said.

She’d hit the nail on the head, but he felt like a spoiled fool for complaining about all of his blessings and the success he’d had in his career. “There is. But not one I’m interested in telling.”

She leaned closer to him, as if she were studying him. The air between them had become even more charged. Heated. It was a point of no return for him, as they both moved in slow motion. With his fingertips, he caressed her smooth jaw and drew her closer. He wanted to kiss her more than he wanted his next breath.

The second her lips touched his, he was a goner. A gentle caress at first, testing her boundaries, he took her bottom lip between the two of his and nipped. Her sigh urged him on, and he stroked his tongue against the seam of her lips, before she opened to him, allowing him access to her hot, wet mouth. Soon, the kiss wasn’t enough. He grasped Ellie around the waist and lifted her, settling her onto his lap, so that her thighs straddled his. She moaned into his mouth and the sound shot straight to his dick. He was hard, and she ground against him, and she felt so good, it stole his breath when she tilted her head and deepened the kiss.

His hands went to her ass, and he held her in place and controlled her movements as he ran her hot core against his length. Christ, Gabe wanted her, and he pulled away. He surveyed their surroundings—the walls of the nook kept them obscured from the view of the other bar patrons. He could take her right there, but a part of him held back. That sort of behavior would be welcome at Di Terrestres—he cursed himself for not bringing her there—but not in a booth at a public club. Whether or not they were in Las Vegas—Sin City—public decency laws still applied. “Fuck, I want you, Ellie,” he breathed against her skin, his fingers digging into her waist. He cursed his more practical, law-abiding side.

“I thought I was supposed to be the one begging.”

“You aren’t yet. But you will be. Let’s go somewhere where I can do everything I want with you.”

Ellie nodded. “Good idea.”

Gabe took some bills from his wallet and threw them on the table to cover the cost of the champagne and tip. Ellie and Gabe stood and casually walked outside.

Gabe pressed his hand against Ellie’s lower back, leading her to the taxis waiting outside of the casino entrance, but on the horizon, something caught his attention. The High Roller, the giant observation Ferris wheel that had been added to the Las Vegas skyline a few years before. He had an idea. Just as bad an idea as he’d had within the confines of their cozy booth in the club—but one that would be even more fun.

“Where are we going?” Ellie asked, as they bypassed the waiting cars and crossed the street.

“I’ve got an idea.”