Beautiful Bombshell by Christina Lauren Read Free Book Online Page A

on, I led us to a darkened corner. Smiling, I noticed the sign above a door tucked into the corner: I needed to be alone with Chloe on my terms and, quite frankly, we’d always been pretty great in restrooms.
    An older gentleman with dyed black hair looked up in surprise as we entered the men’s room. I reached out to shake his hand, and pressed a folded bill into his palm.
    “It’s so noisy out there,” I said, nodding in the direction of the casino and bar on the other side of the door. “Perhaps you’d be good enough to give us a few minutes to talk?”
    He looked down at the money, his eyes widening, and then smiled back up at me. “‘Talk’?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    His gaze moved to Chloe. “That okay with you, miss? I might not look like much now, but back in my day I could drop a pretty boy like this before he knew what hit him.”
    Beside me, Chloe laughed. “Something tells me you still could,” she said with a wink. “And trust me, I’m perfectly capable of dropping this pretty boy as well.”
    “I don’t doubt that.” His smile widened, revealing a white, toothy grin. “You know,” he said, looking down at his watch, “I just realized it’s time I took my break.” He reached for a hat hanging on a hook and set it on his head, winking as he moved the CLOSED FOR CLEANING sign outside and in front of the door.
    I watched her for a moment as the door shut behind him, then crossed the room to flip the lock.
    Chloe lifted herself up to the wide marble counter and sat looking at me, long legs crossed in front of her. The room was luxurious, more of a sitting room with adjoiningstalls than a traditional bathroom. The floor was the same black and gold as the rest of the casino, with three wing-back chairs grouped against the far wall and a blue leather bench set between them. A huge, tinkling chandelier hung in the center of the room, painting the walls in specks of colored light.
    “Am I in trouble?” she asked, eyes hopeful.
    “A world of trouble.” I took a step toward her.
    “This seems to be a reoccurring theme.”
    “Doesn’t it?”
    “Are you going to tell me what I did wrong?” She looked up at me with wide eyes and cheeks a mischievous pink. She was so fucking beautiful. “Should I have used my own hand instead?”
    “Not funny.” My heart slammed beneath my ribs, and I grew drunk from the steady thrum of adrenaline as it slipped through my veins. Her gaze never wavered as I crossed the room to spread her legs and step between her thighs.
    I trailed a finger down the smooth skin of her calf, wrapping a hand around her ankle. “These shoes don’t look very sensible,” I said, brushing a thumb over the soft leather.
    She continued to watch me, lips red and slick and so fucking tempting. “Maybe I’m not feeling very sensible this weekend. Is that why I’m in trouble?”
    “You’re in trouble because you’re impossible.”
    She lifted her chin and met my eyes. “I learned from the best.”
    I moved her foot to my hip and traced a path up her thigh and beneath her skirt. I clenched my jaw as a fresh wave of frustration swept through me over how she’d left me at the club, how proud she was for leaving me hard, and how ninety percent of our arguments could be boiled down to one of us trying to get a reaction out of the other. Seriously fucked-up situation we had going on here.
    Still.
    Gripping her ass with both hands, I ignored her sharp inhale as I jerked her to the edge of the counter.
    “You—” She started to protest, but I stopped her, placing a finger against her mouth. She still smelled unfamiliar—floral, not citrus—but beneath the heavy makeup and new perfume there was something softer in her eyes, something inherently Chloe. She could play dress-up all she wanted, but the woman who was mine would always be there. The realization was like drowning, and I leaned forward, replacing my finger with my lips and quickly becoming lost in her little breaths and sounds as