Seven Nights of Sin - Lacey Alexander [11]
“I didn’t know you were married.” Had she imaged that hint of disappointment in his voice? His gaze dropped to her left hand, curled casually around the stem of her wineglass.
Despite relishing his interest, her hand felt naked, and she still hated having to tell him, “I’m recently divorced.”
Keep being new Brenna, she told herself. But the dissolution of her marriage had been the greatest devastation of her life. If it hadn’t gotten dark out, she’d have slid her sunglasses back on to hide her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Damon said.
“Don’t be.” She swilled a drink of wine for courage. “He was a jerk. The cheating kind, to be exact.”
“Hell,” he said. “That sucks.”
She raised her eyebrows, tried for a smile, and wondered if he’d ever cheated on anyone. “Yeah, it does—did. But it’s very over now, and I’m very ready to move on.”
Yikes, what had she just said? Had it sounded like a come-on? Please, God, don’t let him think it sounded like a come-on. And what had happened to I don’t need a man? She took another sip of wine, her whole body still whirring with the potent arousal he inspired.
“Well, Vegas is a great place for moving on,” he told her.
Oh geez—he thought she wanted to party. Maybe not necessarily with him, but just in general—and that was bad enough. Even though he definitely liked to party, she wanted him to see her as cool, confident, professional Brenna—not as a party girl on the rebound.
Regroup. Put your cosmopolitan face back on. Pretend you’re not getting drunk.
To her surprise, it actually succeeded. She sounded utterly at ease when she said, “I’m here to work. Play will have to wait for another time.”
“Another good answer,” he told her. “But I wouldn’t complain if you wanted to play just a little.” His eyes sparkled again, and she feared she would come in her panties.
Staying cool was becoming more of a challenge every minute, and it was all she could do not to choke on her answer, but she managed to get one out. “To be honest, I’m…not sure Vegas holds the kind of play I’m interested in.”
He cast a skeptical look. “You can get just about anything your heart desires here.”
Not true, she wanted to say. You couldn’t get love. You couldn’t get a husband who didn’t cheat.
Oh boy, she was drunk. This was bad.
Whatever you do, don’t go all maudlin on him. Carefully, she concocted an answer. “Let’s just say…sex seems a little too…out in the open here. For my taste anyway.”
“Ah. And you like it in private.”
Okay, she should have been more careful. Why on earth had she mentioned sex, of all things? But she had to go with it now, so she answered honestly. “Afraid so.”
And then it happened—a vision flashed through her head.
Her, having sex, with him.
His naked body atop hers, moving, pounding into her, his hard cock filling her with each deep stroke.
Jesus, when on earth had she started using words like “cock”? She wasn’t even sure she could blame Kelly for this one. It was the wine, she decided, even as Damon reached to refill her glass.
“Just half,” she told him quickly, and he stopped pouring but emptied the rest of the bottle into his own.
“This is a very man-centric place, isn’t it?” she heard herself asking without even weighing it. Damn wine.
He tilted his head, his expression indulgent. She hoped it meant he liked her openness, as opposed to thinking she was some kind of kook. “I guess that’s a fair assessment.”
“I mean, I just don’t think that kind of thing appeals to women—selling sex on a billboard.”
His eyes glimmered with quiet amusement. “Hey, if you’re gonna sell sex, isn’t that as good a place as any?”
“Point taken, but maybe it’s the whole idea of selling sex that turns me off. I suppose men just aren’t as offended by that.”
He shrugged, grinned. “I’ll admit it takes a lot to offend me. But you know, there are billboards with guys on them, too. Male strippers, that kinda thing. Maybe you’d like that.”
She shook her head instantly, the honesty spilling from her now, like it or not. “I just think it’s weird when sex is so…on display, like