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"Well…"
Her nose scrunches as she laughs. Damn, it's such a nice laugh. I'm ready to get lost in it when I see it.
That's not a fan.
That's a paparazzi big camera.
Fuck.
I motion to the guy and offer Bella my hand. "Security will tell him to get lost, but the second we leave the casino—"
"Oh."
"Let's go to my room."
She gives me a long once-over as she stands. She's not thinking about privacy or press or anything like that.
She's thinking about fucking me again.
Not that I can talk.
I have a lot of ideas about getting her groaning my name all day.
But first things first.
I take her hand. "Okay?"
She nods. "Okay."
I guess it's true what they say about fame finding those who seek it. Nobody cares about a guy who stays home and watches Netflix, even if he's Brad Pitt. Now, a guy who marries a stranger in Vegas…
Bella hangs close as we step into the elevator. She's squeezing my hand tightly enough to cut off circulation.
We make a strange pair—the uptight good girl and the manwhore rock star. I guess the whole thing about opposites attracting is true too.
The elevator doors slide open.
Again, I take her hand. I keep her close. It fucking stings that she doesn't remember, but I still want to soothe her.
I lead her to my hotel room and point to the room service tray of toast and tea. "The water should still be warm."
She presses her lips together. "You ordered room service even after I left?"
"Yeah." I stick close to the coffee maker to fill it with the cheap hotel beans.
Bella takes a seat at the table. She places a bag of English Breakfast in the ceramic mug then fills it with hot water from the little silver kettle. "Thank you."
She stares at her cup as she stirs.
I wait until my coffee is finished brewing then I take a seat next to her. This is shitty coffee, but I need the caffeine.
She nibbles her toast with tiny, ladylike bites. She even keeps her pinkie raised when she takes a sip of her tea.
When she finishes, she wipes her hands on the cloth napkin folded in her lap. Her eyes meet mine. Her gaze is unsteady. "I'm sorry I don't remember much from last night. Everything between my fourth gin and tonic and, well…" She motions to the bed. "Everything else is fuzzy."
"Besides the sex?"
She blushes. "Yes."
