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I try not to let all the shit we’ve got to deal with bother me right now, but it’s harder than it should be considering the fact that we’re here to celebrate. My unease must be noticeable, though, because when Tori stops talking long enough to take a sip from the glass of wine she’s holding, Chloe leans up and presses a kiss to my cheek.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “She’s just really excited. She’ll calm down soon. I promise.”

“She’s not bothering me at all,” I answer truthfully. “I’m glad she’s here with you.” I turn my head, catch her next kiss on my mouth instead of my cheek.

I mean it to be just a quick brush of lips against lips, but she gasps at the first touch of my mouth to hers. Her lips open like a flower and then I’m sinking into the softness, into the sweetness, that is Chloe Girard-soon-to-be-Frost. Nothing has ever felt better.

She tastes like dark honey.

Like sweet wine.

Like a home I never had a clue I was missing before I met her.

The thought steadies me even as it turns me on. Bringing my hand to her hair, I tangle my fingers in her wild strawberry curls. She gasps again at the soft tug, then opens to me fully, her lips and tongue and mouth mine for the taking.

I delve inside, falling deeper into her with every breath, every stroke, every sigh. My tongue circles hers, slides against the side of her cheek, the roof of her mouth. And finally, finally, I feel myself relax. Because this is real. Chloe’s real. What we are together right now is real. And what we’ll build in the future is just as real.

That’s what matters. That’s all that matters. Everything else is just background noise.

“Seriously, you guys?” Tori finally demands, slamming her wineglass down on the small table beside her. “We’re five minutes from the damn hotel. You can’t wait that long?”

Chloe laughs a little, starts to pull away, but I hold her in place for just a few seconds more. Touching her, kissing her, makes it easier for me to breathe. Easier for me to think. She quiets me in a way nothing and no one ever has before and letting that go, letting her go, even for a few minutes, is harder than it should be.

I don’t know if she feels the same way, or if she’s just responding to the subtle tension that creeps through me at Tori’s words. Either way, she doesn’t move. Instead, she keeps her mouth pressed against mine as her hands stroke soothingly over my shoulders and down my back.

It feels good—really good—and there’s a part of me that wants to fuck her right here. I could slide my hands under her skirt, slip her panties down her legs. Follow that with a quick yank of my zipper and I could be buried balls-deep inside the slick wet heat of her in mere seconds.

I want that—want her—so badly that my hands are shaking with it. It’s the intensity of that need that finally has me pulling away and settling back against the cool leather of the seat. If I push it much further, I’m afraid I really will forget Tori’s in the car with us. Or cease to care that she is.

Chloe’s breathing is barely back to normal before we pull up in front of the Atlantis. Tori mutters something under her breath about sex maniacs and cold showers as she dives for the door, not even bothering to wait for the driver, or the doorman, to open it for her.

I follow at a more sedate pace, then reach a hand in to help Chloe from the car. I leave Geoffrey, the chauffeur I hire whenever I’m in town, and one of the doormen to figure out what to do with our luggage while I escort the ladies inside to register.

We’re only in line a few minutes—it’s the middle of the week and still early in the day by Vegas standards. But before Chloe and I can head for the elevators, Tori hands Chloe her key with a flourish. “Make sure you don’t spend so much time fucking that you forget to have them put my luggage in my room.”

Chloe blushes, but she’s laughing as only Tori can make her. “Where are you going to be?”

“I’m going to get a head start on shopping. God knows, at the rate you two are going, you’d probably end up walking down the aisle naked. It’s my duty as maid of honor to prevent that.” She narrows her eyes at me, even goes so far as to wag a finger in my face. “You get one hour, dude. One hour. And then she’s mine. I’ve got an afternoon at the spa set up and if she’s late, the whole day is going on your tab.”

“And here I’d expected the whole day to go on my tab to begin with,” I tell her with my most engaging smile.

She sniffs. “Charm will get you nowhere, Ethan Frost.”

“Excuse me, but I beg to differ.” Chloe wraps an arm around my waist. “It’s gotten me to Vegas with him, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah, well, I always said you were too easy,” Tori says with a wink and a sly grin. And then she’s turning away, heading toward the escalators that will take her to the shopping level with its exclusive, high-end shops.

“Hey, I learned it from you,” Chloe calls after her.

Two raised middle fingers are Tori’s only response.

We watch until she’s on the escalator, then—aware of just how quickly things can get out of control between Chloe and me—I drop a chaste kiss on her forehead. “I like your best friend.”

“She’s pretty great, isn’t she?”

I’m about to agree when I catch a glimpse of Sebastian striding past us. Pressing a hand to Chloe’s lower back, I propel her forward even as I call his name. Speaking of best friends…

He turns around a little impatiently, his eyes scanning the hotel lobby before coming to rest on me. His face lights up as he meets us halfway.

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