Page 46 of It Happened in Vegas

Sophie’s cheeks blushed bright. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I’d never felt like this happy and grounded at the same time. Like I couldn’t stop my fall off of a cliff, but trusted I’d stick the landing when I hit the ground.

The dealer slid the dice to me again. The other players urged me on.

"Okay, last one." I stacked my chips on the same bet.

“Shouldn’t you stop while you’re ahead?” She arched a brow, saying the sensible thing, although her eyes danced mischievously, like she’d flipped my world upside down since the day she walked into it. No stopping now.

“If I win again, we throw the rulebook out the window and have some... spontaneous fun tonight."

Her mouth fell open. “Wasn’t this entire night spontaneous and fun?”

“You know damn well what I’m talking about.” I winked and tossed the dice before she could stop me. I didn’t want to give myself a second to overthink things. How this had started out fake. Temporary. How my gut was screaming to lead us into unknown territory.

For a third time in a row, the dice landed on my side of luck. Another win.

My jaw went slack and I stared at the table. Then like an earthquake hit the casino, everyone roared around us, stomping feet, clapping and yelling, like I’d hit the big jackpot.

I had, with her.

I seized Sophie, dipped her and claimed her lips in triumph. When we parted I growled into her ear. “To our room. Now.”

I gathered the chips into the bottom of my T-shirt like a makeshift basket.

"Sophie?” She’d suddenly vacated my side, already striding off toward the elevators like she was upset.

Panic stabbed my chest. Had I pushed too far?

I caught up to her right as she hit the up arrow. “Are you upset about something?”

She glanced up at me, cheeks flushed, lips parted and shook her head. She grabbed the front of my shirt and yanked me into the elevator just as the doors slid shut—and crashed her lips on mine.

Hot. Wet. Mind-blowing.

The chips didn’t matter anymore. They scattered to the floor as I dropped them, freeing my hands to lift her up. I pressed her into the wall of the elevator. Her legs locked around my waist like it was the most natural thing in the world. Her fingers tangled through my hair, and every bone in my body screamed for more of her.

I was seconds from stopping the elevator and doing it right here. But the elevator dinged. Doors opened.

“Fuck the chips,” I breathed, and carried her to our door, mouths and tongues tangled the entire way. Whatever came next behind that door, I only knew this: I wasn’t faking anything with Sophie anymore.

17

THINGS GOT REAL

SOPHIE

Keaton barely waitedfor the latch on the door to snap shut before he his body pressed me against it. His mouth crashing on mine, all my thoughts and worries vaporized.

Electricity crackled where our lips met, and I melted into him, my palms flattened against his broad chest, the hard thrum of his heartbeat strong under his skin.

I finally had the best night of my life with a man. It wasn’t over. My core clenched and vibrated with need for him to satisfy me. My pulse raced to keep up with his pace.

His kisses seared me—hot, and demanding. Like he couldn’t bear another second of pretending, about to explode with real desire and need. He dipped his mouth along my earlobe, teeth grazing there, his beard sparking goosebumps down my neck.

I wasn’t sure who needed this more, me or him?

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Keaton breathed against my mouth, carrying me further into the room. “Nothing about what I’m going to do to you tonight is fake. Not a single part.”

His words sent a shiver down my spine. I desired for every bit of this to be most real thing I’d done in some time.

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