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She drew her lips together. “Really?”
“Fuckin’ truth. Ask Samson.”
“How is he?” Perfect way to divert the conversation.
“He’s real good. Reconnected with Lizbeth from back in Brooklyn. Never seen him so happy.”
“That’s crazy.”
“Not really. Second chances happen all the time. You just can’t pass them up when they come your way.”
“This isn’t that.” She motioned between them. “I’m married and?—”
He leaned in close. “There is no fuckin’ way you would’ve ever married Johnny Russo by choice which means—he’s got something on you and he’s holding it over your head.”
A weakness surged through her and she gripped the edge of the bar.
“Are you all right?” He gripped her arms to steady her.
“Yes, yes, I’m fine.” She reached for her drink and gulped down the remainder.
“Looks like I hit too close to the bone.” He pointed to her empty glass and the bartender nodded.
“Ohh, no, I don’t want another.”
“Too late.” Nick jerked his chin at the bartender already making her martini.
“So, what’s Russo’s angle?” When she didn’t answer he continued. “I doubt you knew him in New York, so the connection probably comes from Frank, your father.” He pulled a face, then added, “Something else you never mentioned ten years ago.”
She had to change this delicate subject and change it quick. The house of cards she called a life was on the brink of imploding.
“You did great with Club Wicked.” Best way she knew to divert a man was to get him to talk about himself. “It’s everything you always wanted.”
“That’s what the one year celebration was about. A lot of hard work but totally worth it.”
“That’s great.” She pushed the full drink aside. “I can’t drink this and I really should get going.”
“Asking about the club didn’t fool me. I know you’re hiding something and I also know you are so damn stubborn you’d rather die with it, then let someone help you.”
She shrugged her shoulder. “Then I guess we’re done here.” She smiled sweetly but his face was set in stone. “It was great catching up.”
Nick paid the bar bill, then turned to her and grabbed up her hand. “I have to see you again.”
“Not possible and you know it.”
The trail of discarded clothing started at the door of the Bellagio suite high above the Strip and ended at the foot of the bed. In between wet kisses and the rasping of zippers their bodies entwined and moved as one. Without waiting another minute, Nick lifted her and dropped her across the king-sized bed. He crawled over the soft duvet as the late afternoon sun cast dim shadows over the room.
Anchoring his finger under the elastic of her lacy thong, he snapped his wrist and the flimsy material ripped away from her body.
“You still wear the sexiest, fuckin’ panties.” He flung them over his shoulder, then lowered his head placing soft kisses on the inside of her thighs.
She gasped, then expelled a long waited breath at the sensation of his stubbled jaw along the sensitive skin.
“Still so sweet. I never could get enough of you. I want it all and then more.” He nuzzled up her thigh spreading her legswider as he went higher. When he reached her center he spread her folds with his thumb and forefinger before diving in.
When he nipped her clit, she hissed in a breath. She wanted him to taste every inch of her, lave her, and soothe her ache. Reading her body, and knowing she was ready, he raised from the bed, grabbed a condom out of his wallet, and sheathed himself.
She opened her arms to him, needing him more than she imagined. When he lowered himself to her she whispered his name.
