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“Well, it might stop here, and maybe in Chicago, too. But it’s the national touring company. I’d get to move all over the US, dancing and singing my heart out all across the country.” She held her shot glass up to Hugh, and pointed at it. The girl wasn’t kidding about celebrating. “Can you imagine it? Me, in Chicago? They’re considering me for the chorus with an opportunity to understudy the Velma Kelly role.” A look of annoyance crossed her features and she muttered, “Which is probably going to a nineteen-year-old.”
He could imagine it, even though he didn’t have a clue what type of show Chicago was. And for some reason, he didn’t like her leaving him. “That’s awesome. Congrats.”
“Thanks.” She shot him a confused look. “You okay?”
He wasn’t sure. These feelings she brought out in him scared him. But he wouldn’t tell her that. If he even gave her a hint of what he was feeling for her, she would run faster than the Energizer Bunny on crack. Instead he twirled her around in his arms so that she faced him and planted a deep kiss on her lips. And if she clung to him breathlessly when he pulled away…then who could blame him if he grinned?
“Fucking fabulous. We’re going to get drunk and paint the town red.”
“Yes.” She hopped off his lap and wiggled her hands, doing a cute little dance. The look in her eyes made his heart do weird things. Like melt and go all soft. “With jazz hands!”
He blinked at her. “I have no idea what they are or what you just did—but sure. Wiggle around all you want.”
She threw her head back and let out a rich, hearty laugh. He’d never seen her look so damn…carefree. “First, we do our shots. Then we dance.”
Yeah. He didn’t dance. But he could watch her dance all night if she wanted. He reached around her and picked up their drinks. Hugh, the bartender, watched them closely. Too closely. “Ready?”
They lifted their shots and emptied them. Already, Mike—who’d been drinking beer ever since he reached the casino—was feeling the effects of the shots hit him. Morgan was a little bit blurry, the bar was a little bit louder, and the music a little bit too inviting. He stood and grabbed Morgan’s hand, tugging her behind him toward the elevator. She wore those brown cowboy boots again. He never had a thing for boots…until now.
She squealed. “Slow down! Where are we going?” she called out, craning her neck to see him.
He kept right on going, heading for the elevator. After seeing Morgan onstage, he’d reserved the honeymoon suite for tonight. Having a sister high up in the casino’s administration had a few perks—one of which included a free room. A room he had every intention of breaking in tonight.
Not that Brianna had known he would be choosing the honeymoon suite when she’d given him his room voucher.
“Can’t you just trust that I’ve got something incredible planned for us?”
She fell against him, no longer fighting to be free. “But I wanted to dance first.”
“We’ll dance after.”
The elevator door opened and they stepped inside. He immediately captured her lips in a heated kiss. He noticed that an older couple watched them with wide eyes. He grinned at them.
Once the older couple exited the elevator, they were alone. “Fucking…and then dancing,” he whispered against her lips.
“Fine.” She lowered her arms down his back and caressed his abs through his shirt before slipping her hand between his legs to stroke his cock. Her light touch sent a fist of desire to his stomach. A glint burned in her blue eyes. “But I’m on top this time.”
Fuck yeah.
Chapter Seven
The next morning, Morgan opened her eyes but then quickly slammed them shut again. Holy Mother of God, the sun was trying to kill her. Trying to make her head implode or something. She groaned and rolled the other way…but came up against a hard, fully clothed male chest. And she was definitely dressed, too. Complete with her boots. Cautiously, she peeked out of her lashes and checked out the man.
Oh. Right. Mike.
Wait. Didn’t he have to work or something? She should probably wake him up. “Mike? Do you need to go to work today?”
“Not till eleven,” he grunted, not moving.
Lifting her head took considerable effort but she managed to get it high enough to glance at the clock. It was only seven-thirty. They had time. She snuggled closer and he wrapped his arms around her. Okay. This wasn’t so bad. She could work with this. The hangover would pass if she slept a little bit more…
Mike groaned and lifted his hand to his head. “Fuck me. Did we drink the whole bar last night?”
Morgan sighed and gazed up at him. Hot damn, he even looked hot when hung over. She probably looked like a freaking zombie, and maybe smelled even worse, but he looked like he just walked out of a GQ magazine. She slowly sat up and hugged her knees, ducking her head and swiping her hands under her eyes, feeling mascara crusted around her lashes. “Maybe. I feel like we did.”
“Hm.” He played with her hair, his fingers lightly sliding against her back. She liked it when he played with her hair, which was odd since she usually didn’t like men touching her idly. “I don’t remember anything after we had sex on the balcony.”
Oh my God. Just the memories of that made her insides go all weak. “Me either. We may have gone back down to dance.”
