Chapter 6 Anna
Chapter six
Anna
I
f Las Vegas is considered the City of Sin, then the man sitting beside me is the devil incarnate. He has brought out every dangerous desire inside of me and the more I look at him, the wetter I get. Drinking with him is the weirdest foreplay I’ve ever experienced.
Our first stop is at one of the bars inside our fancy hotel.
It is all creams and golds, and we sit here talking while munching on popcorn and chips.
My third lavender lemon drop sits in front of me and Keaton is on his second or third old fashioned for the night.
We talk about our family, reminding each other about his brothers and my lack of siblings.
A sad moment passes by when I learn that he lost his dad several years ago and he speaks of his mom ever so gently, mentioning that she’s still a beautiful and incredible woman, but one with a broken heart.
Finishing up our drinks, we decide to go to Caesar’s Palace.
We pose with several obscene statues, snapping pictures to commemorate our time together, laughing the entire time.
“Wow, you really are a photographer. These are so good and all you're using is your phone.” Keaton praises and I can't help but blush.
“Well, I didn’t exactly plan on an impromptu photoshoot, so I don’t have my fancy equipment with me. But it helps to have a marvelous model to work with.” I lean up on my toes and press a kiss to his lips. “Come on, let’s go to the casino and see how lucky we can get.”
As I try to pull away, Keaton tugs me to him and kisses me again so passionately I think we may end up needing to book a room here. “You’re going to get so fucking lucky tonight, Baby, but there’s no doubt that I’m the luckiest motherfucker in this town.”
My breath catches at his words, but before I can react, he’s walking to the casino, and I dutifully follow like the lovesick puppy I am.
Neither the blackjack tables nor slot machines were doing anything for us, but the drinks were plentiful and there’s a beautiful buzz in my head.
We head outside for some fresh air, thankful that the temperatures have cooled a bit.
Glancing up and down the strip, I spot the hotel Skyla mentioned earlier, but then my eyes light up at the sight across the street. “Let’s go!”
Tugging Keaton’s hand, he follows me as we cross the road and step in front of the beautiful pink display. As gorgeous as it is, I take us in a different direction, laughing as he tells me to slow down and asks where we’re going.
“Look, Keat!” Shortening his name like I've known him all our lives feels right and the nickname falls off my lips easily. “I’m in Paris!” I twirl around in front of the resort, giggling with excitement and am full of joy I don’t think I’ve ever experienced with anyone else. “Can we go see the Eiffel Tower?”
“I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.” The way he looks at me has me thinking he truly means it.
The views from the observation deck are incredible, but the view I’ve had all night is even better.
Keaton is so fucking hot from the silver flecks that glisten in his hair to his strong hands with these lickable veins that run through it.
Who knew veins could be a turn-on, but here I am wanting to run my tongue down every single one that lines his body.
I never knew forty could look so good, but he pulls it off flawlessly.
I don't know why I've never considered dating an older man before, but I certainly see the appeal now.
On top of the fact that drool drips from my mouth and down my thighs when I see him, he’s just a great guy.
We’ve talked and laughed, and I can see how much he loves his family.
His face lights up when he mentions his niece and it makes me wonder what this incredible man would be like as a dad.
No doubt better than my own. There’s no way Keaton would force his child to work for a slimy man.
I take a drink from the martini we ordered before heading up here, expunging all thoughts of Daniel from my head.
When I pull the drink away from my lips, I notice Keaton smiling at me.
Every smile he gives me makes my heart flutter.
I should probably see my doctor as soon as I get back and make sure there’s no chance of a murmur or something more serious.
It’s probably not normal to have all this activity over someone I’ve known for less than twelve hours.
“How’s your first night in Paris, Baby?” I flush at the pet name he’s been calling me all night. The endearment squeezes my chest every time he says it.
“Perfect. This is absolutely incredible. You really should stop spoiling me, though.” Keaton had insisted on paying for everything tonight, from our drinks to our tickets here at the tower.
Even when I wanted to just experience the slot machines for the first time, he insisted it’s more fun to gamble with someone else’s money.
“I’ve enjoyed spoiling you,” he wraps his arms around me and brushes his lips against mine. “And I plan on spoiling you a lot more later.”
My thighs tighten as the mound between them begins to pulse in need. I try to hide my arousal by looking back at the busy goings on beneath us. There’s nothing near this busy back home in Kentucky, even in the bigger cities.
So many gorgeous and infamous hotels and casinos line the street, including the one I am so excited about staying at tonight.
Future brides and their friends wear sashes as they stumble along the pavement.
A little wedding chapel advertises that your wedding there will be fast, fun, and legal.
A giant sphere glows like a prism behind a terrifyingly large Ferris Wheel.
“I don’t get it, Anna,” Keaton says quietly, bringing my wandering attention back to him.
“What’s that?”
“I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you. I don’t want to fuck you.”
The alcohol in my stomach turns sour at his confusing confession. I’m officially at the limit where it’s a fine line between a good time and a breakdown and even drunk I’m not sure I can handle a breakdown in front of this man. Apparently, my face doesn’t hide the pain I’m feeling from his comment.
“Shit,” he quickly follows up, “I didn’t mean that.
I mean I don’t just want to fuck you. I want to talk to you and hold you and sleep with you.
Not the sex kind. I mean, yeah, the sex kind.
But the other kind, too. I want to know your favorite color and what songs you sing in the shower.
I want to know everything there is to know about you. ”
The tears that were forming dry up as fast as they came on as I realize Keaton is trying to say that he likes me and not just for a hookup. I swallow down the lump that had formed in my throat before I speak.
“Green,” I say. “My favorite color is green.”
His lips tilt up as he hums, “Hmm, like your gorgeous eyes.”
“And in the shower, I’m definitely belting out ‘Hit Me Baby One More Time’. Or ‘Oops I Did It Again’. Really, anything by Britney Spears.”
“I’m more of a silent showerer myself, but I’m man enough to admit that Tay Tay comes up in my shower karaoke rotation every now and then.” Picturing this man singing in the shower has a smile spreading across my face, but I force myself to be serious for the next thing I'm going to say.
“And I don’t want to just fuck you either,” I admit and my heart pounds in my chest. This is the part where he runs.
In the past, I've been told that I'm more of a "behind closed doors" type of girl.
I'm not the one that hangs on a man's arm as he proudly introduces his partner.
But I should have known Keaton isn't like the boys I've been with.
Tonight I'm with a man. A man who looks at me as though I’ve just bestowed upon him the greatest gift in the world and that makes me feel pretty damn special.
“I really fucking like you, Anna.” Before I can return my sentiment, his lips descend upon mine causing an inferno to build inside me.
I can’t seem to get enough of him, grabbing his shirt and pulling him into me.
My hands find their way under the shirt he has on that matches the shade of his eyes.
The rest of the world has faded away and it’s only the two of us here in this tower, devouring one another knowing it’s likely this is our one and only night together.
It’s not until Keaton pulls my leg to wrap around his thigh, and we hear a gruff voice rudely telling us to get a room, that we crash back into reality and become aware of our very public surroundings.
“I need you," he growls out, "are you ready to go back to the hotel now?” I must admit that falling into bed with him sounds so fucking good. Just as I'm about to say yes, I look back out at the view and my eyes land on a place they scanned over moments earlier.
There's probably enough alcohol in my system to tranquilize an elephant, but I know when I want something, and by golly, I want Keaton.
The desire I have for him, along with the fact I'm three sheets to the wind right now, are a lethal combination and I quickly realize that I’m a goner.
More than anyone else in my life, he has made me feel seen, beautiful, and desired.
Maybe that knowledge paired with the liquid courage coursing through me is why I risk saying the next words that come out of my mouth.
“Would you mind going to one more stop with me?”