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ChapterOne
My life as I know it changes on a flight from Seattle to Las Vegas, an easy two-hour trip at the request of my mom’s boyfriend, Gavin—the man who has healed her heart after my father's death five years ago.
The trip is short notice, and Mom has no idea I’m coming to visit. But Gavin promised to take care of everything—from getting me from the airport to my hotel room on the Strip, and lunch reservations for Saturday which is when he plans to pop the question. He has made it very clear that all I have to do is catch my flight, and the rest will be taken care of. In his words, he doesn’t want his future daughter to worry about anything.
Gavin owns the Sovereign Hotel, the biggest and brightest star on the Las Vegas Strip and I’m more than a little excited and intrigued to find out more about both the man and the business.
And although a weekend away wasn’t on my radar at all because of deadlines and a new magazine title we’re launching in a month’s time, work has been taking over my life and maybe a break is exactly what I need. A little reminder that I'm only human and everyone deserves the chance to recharge now and then.
Before Gavin called, I’d made plans to meet up with a friend who was going to fly in from San Francisco—the kind of buddy who will leave me entertained, happy and well-sated. However, my mother’s future happiness is and always will be my priority, so I didn’t hesitate before accepting Gavin's generous invitation, thus canceling my weekend of hot adult fun with Aiden.
And since I’m on holiday, I’ve already downed a glass of champagne since I boarded the flight 20 mins ago, in addition to the two glasses of white wine I’d had at the airport bar. Therefore, it’s fair to say I’m on the tipsy side of sober already. Which is probably why I eagerly return the desire-filled gaze directed my way by the handsome passenger walking past me in First class to take his seat two rows ahead and across the aisle from me.
He’s a very sexy andfinespecimen of a man with black slacks that cling to his ass like Saran Wrap and hair as dark as the charcoal gray button-down he’s wearing. The fabric is tailored to perfection, taut against his toned biceps and covering pecs that any hot-blooded woman would want to lick her way down on her way to the promised land between his thighs. A quick glance down confirms that yes, you could indeed bounce pennies off his butt too and have fun while doing it.
A woman can tell by the way a man carries himself whether he's the type to take what he wants without apology. Exactly the kind of man I’m craving in my current drunken state. Someone who’ll use and abuse my body in the best possible ways before kissing me goodbye without consequence. In the current state of my life, that’s the perfect kind of companion.
A knowing smirk plays on the man’s lips as he stows away his carry-on in the overhead locker. The liquor coursing through my veins may have buoyed my confidence right now, but I’ve never been the type of girl to hide my approval of such a fine male specimen or be ashamed to do it. So when he turns his head and smiles his perfect white-toothed grin my way, I don’t dare shy away from his gaze.
Gone were the free drinks I was planning to consume in my future—all I want to do now is get drunk on the man with the cocky smile and big… ego...
Our connection is broken when he’s asked to take his seat by a passing flight attendant.
By the time we’re in the air and the seatbelt sign has been turned off, my mind has already imagined all the creative ways I could please and be pleasured by that man. One look and I’m sure we both know I would be putty in his hands, thoughts of becoming a card-carrying member of the mile high club occupying my thoughts. I bet the cocky bastard knows it too. Something that is confirmed when the flight attendant appears next to me holding out a dirty martini I didn't order.
“Mr. Matthews in seat 1B ordered this for you,” she explains, handing me the glass and walking away. I glance up and try to catch the eye of the intriguing man but lady luck isn’t shining my way this time.
Never one to turn down a free cocktail, I lift the flared glass to my lips and relish in the delicious bitterness. Ten minutes later, I’m looking at the bottom of the crystal glass with a warm flush covering my skin and an unmistakable ache between my legs. An ache that I’m sure a certain male passenger with a penchant for buying women drinks could fix for me.
I rack my brain for a way to approach him. There was undeniable interest in his gaze and there was no ring or tan line on his finger, so that's always a good sign. That doesn't help me find out more about the man though or do anything to quell the growing need foranyform of contact with him. The idea of getting off this plane and not speaking to him would be a travesty. Glancing down at the clock on the TV screen in front of me, I see that there are only forty-five minutes of flight time left—plenty of time for an opportunity to present itself surely. I’m an enterprising modern, go-getter after all.
Just as I’m about to get up from my seat andaccidentallybump into the man—or maybe feel the sudden effects of turbulence and fall right into his lap—the inflight phone in front of me lights up, “Seat 1B calling” showing on the screen. My pulse spikes and exciting anticipation kicks in as I lift the handset to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Ms. 3F. How was the martini?” The sound of his deep baritone voice in my ear has me squirming in my seat.
“A pleasant surprise, Mr. Matthews.”
“Made to your satisfaction then?” The wordsatisfactionfrom his lips tugs at my desire more than any drink ever could. His voice alone invokes images of his body pressing into mine as he whispers dirty nothings in my ear, thrusting deep over and over again until planting himself deep and pouring into me.
“Anything dirty is always pleasing,” I reply, unabashedly.
His deep chuckle strokes my needy core. “A woman after my own heart.”
“If I may be so bold, it wasn’t yourheartI was thinking of.” Any ounce of decorum I may have had left disappeared along with the last sip of my cocktail. A gasp comes from beside me, the elderly woman sitting next to me glares in disgust.Maybe she needs a pass to the mile high club more than I do…I open my mouth to say something to that effect but the sexy stranger’s voice in my ear stops me from saying something I’d likely regret to her.
“Now I’m glad I trusted my gut and read you right.”
I quirk a brow, a smile playing on my lips. “And what could you tell about me from one look?”
“That you’re a woman who knows exactly what’s she’s got and what she wants,” he states matter-of-factly.
I laugh quietly. “Not exactly hard to read when you catch a woman red-handed when she’s checking out the goods.”
“Indeed. But I’ve always admired a woman who isn’t afraid to show her appreciation for my assets.”
I find myself enjoying his honesty. “I can only comment onthatparticular asset, and it’s definitely one to be proud of.”
