just go up to her place, but he knew that was wrong on a whole lot of levels. One, it would sound like a come-on, which he didn't mean. Not really. Two, he had just lectured her on dangerous behavior. Encouraging her to take a strange guy up to her room—even if was him—would encourage her carelessness. He had to take the high road, even if sitting in a darkened spa sounded way less appealing than just hanging out in her place. She'd said she had a suite, and he was betting it had a killer view of the Strip. But the truth was, the whole fact that he'd followed her in his car to the casino in the first place showed his judgment wasn't all that rock solid at the moment, so he should just let her call the shots. He wasn't even sure what the hell he was doing there.
Maybe that wasn't true. It had to do with Kyra, and the fact that he felt a little sick to his stomach, lonely, sad, and angry. He hadn't wanted to go home, but neither did he want to hang out in the lobby of a busy, crowded casino. Going to Gwenna's suite would probably be a mistake, though, given his shaky frame of mind, so the spa was really the best all-around idea.
And shit, if he lost it and blubbered, at least the lights would be dim.
"Sounds like a plan."
She smiled at him, and Nate felt something he sure in the hell shouldn't. It was a kick of lust, right where it counted. Which scared the crap out of him. The mind was weak at the moment, yet the body still was totally functioning, which made this a bad thing. A stupid idea. This was him with his head up his ass if he went up that elevator with her.
He went.
Which meant he was a total idiot.
But he was on the edge, and he knew it. Everything he felt, everything he'd lost, the hurt, the fear, the bitterness, swirled around inside him and threatened to take him down. He was going to crack, soon, the pressure pulling inside his skull, the lack of sleep, that last phone call to his parents, the indignity of yet another mindless murder on tonight of all nights, pushing and tugging at him.
It was Gwenna Carrick or a bottle of Jack, and she was a hell of lot more attractive than him drunk.
"What floor?" he asked as they stepped into an elevator with a thirty-something couple who were leaning dangerously close to each other.
"Sixteen."
Gwenna glanced over at the pair dressed in cocktail party clothes. Nate watched her eyes widen a little at the fact that the couple were now making out vigorously. With lots of hand, tongue, and leg movement. Well, that was special. Shifting a little to block her view, aware that the guy's hand had just gone up the woman's skirt, Nate tried to think of something inane and conversational to say. "So…"
He had nothing. Especially since Gwenna had moved a little to see around him.
Instead of being appalled at the public fondling, she looked curious. Intrigued. She wet her lips. His own immediate and painful reaction to that was an instant boner. No hesitation, no slow inflate, just up, hard, and ready to go.
Which was more disgusting than the happy gropers behind him. He couldn't understand how he could get an erection on the same night he'd been to a crime scene and watched his sister die. It was like confirmation of everything he'd ever been told by his grandmother—his animalistic male body was totally disconnected from his emotions.
On the other hand, maybe it was just a coping mechanism of some kind. Distract him from the rough stuff with a simple physical response. That sounded right-on with what a therapist would tell him.
But he was starting to think maybe he should have stuck to the Jack Daniels idea, because the last thing he or Gwenna Carrick needed was a one-night stand.
The elevator dinged right as the woman let out an encouraging moan in the small space, and her back slammed against the wall from a particularly aggressive lunge at her breasts by her guy.
"This is our floor," Gwenna said.
Thank God.
They stepped off as Gwenna murmured, "Well, those two
Maybe that wasn't true. It had to do with Kyra, and the fact that he felt a little sick to his stomach, lonely, sad, and angry. He hadn't wanted to go home, but neither did he want to hang out in the lobby of a busy, crowded casino. Going to Gwenna's suite would probably be a mistake, though, given his shaky frame of mind, so the spa was really the best all-around idea.
And shit, if he lost it and blubbered, at least the lights would be dim.
"Sounds like a plan."
She smiled at him, and Nate felt something he sure in the hell shouldn't. It was a kick of lust, right where it counted. Which scared the crap out of him. The mind was weak at the moment, yet the body still was totally functioning, which made this a bad thing. A stupid idea. This was him with his head up his ass if he went up that elevator with her.
He went.
Which meant he was a total idiot.
But he was on the edge, and he knew it. Everything he felt, everything he'd lost, the hurt, the fear, the bitterness, swirled around inside him and threatened to take him down. He was going to crack, soon, the pressure pulling inside his skull, the lack of sleep, that last phone call to his parents, the indignity of yet another mindless murder on tonight of all nights, pushing and tugging at him.
It was Gwenna Carrick or a bottle of Jack, and she was a hell of lot more attractive than him drunk.
"What floor?" he asked as they stepped into an elevator with a thirty-something couple who were leaning dangerously close to each other.
"Sixteen."
Gwenna glanced over at the pair dressed in cocktail party clothes. Nate watched her eyes widen a little at the fact that the couple were now making out vigorously. With lots of hand, tongue, and leg movement. Well, that was special. Shifting a little to block her view, aware that the guy's hand had just gone up the woman's skirt, Nate tried to think of something inane and conversational to say. "So…"
He had nothing. Especially since Gwenna had moved a little to see around him.
Instead of being appalled at the public fondling, she looked curious. Intrigued. She wet her lips. His own immediate and painful reaction to that was an instant boner. No hesitation, no slow inflate, just up, hard, and ready to go.
Which was more disgusting than the happy gropers behind him. He couldn't understand how he could get an erection on the same night he'd been to a crime scene and watched his sister die. It was like confirmation of everything he'd ever been told by his grandmother—his animalistic male body was totally disconnected from his emotions.
On the other hand, maybe it was just a coping mechanism of some kind. Distract him from the rough stuff with a simple physical response. That sounded right-on with what a therapist would tell him.
But he was starting to think maybe he should have stuck to the Jack Daniels idea, because the last thing he or Gwenna Carrick needed was a one-night stand.
The elevator dinged right as the woman let out an encouraging moan in the small space, and her back slammed against the wall from a particularly aggressive lunge at her breasts by her guy.
"This is our floor," Gwenna said.
Thank God.
They stepped off as Gwenna murmured, "Well, those two
Similar Books
Collision of The Heart
Laurie Alice Eakes
Who Owns Kelly Paddik
Beth Goobie
Monochrome
H.M. Jones
No Daughter of the South
Cynthia Webb
House of Steel
Raen Smith
With Baited Breath
Lorraine Bartlett
Redaction: Extinction Level Event (Part I)
Linda Andrews
Out of Place: A Memoir
Edward W. Said
How Cassie Got Her Grind Back
Heather Rainier
Run to Me
Christy Reece