Tyler
Five hours on a red-eye from New York, no sleep, but I was still wired like I’d just walked off court.
Vegas will do that to you. Or maybe it was the sight of her tucked into me in the back of the blacked-out SUV that picked us up from the airport.
She didn’t take her eyes off the window for a second, just tilted her chin toward the strip as if every neon light was switched on for her.
I’d gone all out and managed to bag a last-minute Bellagio suite. The champagne was waiting on ice. If we were gonna make bad decisions, we were gonna make the best bad decisions.
The grin didn’t leave her face through check-in. “Your suite is on the top floor, Mr. Reed. Enjoy your stay.” If only the concierge knew what kind of chaos he’d just enabled.
Orla kept stealing glances at me as we crossed the lobby, like she was trying to figure out whether this was real or some elaborate prank. When the private elevator doors slid shut behind us, she let out a low whistle.
“Top floor, huh? Trying to impress me?”
“Trying?” I murmured. “Baby, I came to win.” I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
She was dressed in grey sweats and the tightest little tee that hugged her breasts immaculately.
All I could think about was getting her into that suite.
Doing a lot of ‘celebrating’ that had nothing to do with a scoreboard.
Her cheeks flushed in my favourite shade on her. When the lift chimed open, we stepped into a hallway so quiet it felt sealed off from the rest of Vegas. She hesitated for half a second, nerves and excitement fizzing behind her eyes.
“Tyler… this is insane.”
I unlocked the door.
“Wait till you see inside.”
The suite lit up as we stepped through.
“Holy shit,” she breathed. Floor to ceiling windows, the Vegas skyline like a glittering ocean. “Tyler…this is…”
I popped the cork before she could finish, poured us each a glass, handed hers over. “Well I’ve never had anyone I wanted to spoil before,” I said, raising the cut glass toward her. “So…to bad decisions.”
She clinked my glass, that dangerous little smile curving her mouth, the one that always seemed to slip out right before something happened that I’d want burned into my memory forever. “To bad decisions.” She echoed.
We kicked off our shoes and collapsed onto the bed, champagne fizzing, city lights flickering against the walls. For the first time in weeks, I wasn’t the tennis player and she wasn’t the physio. We were just…us.
“What time is it even?” she asked, stretching out beside me.
I checked my phone. “One a.m, apparently.”
She laughed. “So, do we sleep or go out? How does Vegas even work?”
I grinned, propping myself up on my elbow. “I’ll be honest, I’m pretty fucking tired, so how about we sleep, then we fuck, then we eat, then we fuck some more before we head out to cause chaos?”
She shook her head, smiling. “You’re terrible, but I like your plan.” I liked it too.
I don’t know what time it was when we finally crashed, but six hours later I woke up starving. For food, sure, but mostly for her. I ordered room service while she made her way into the bathroom.
If she thought she was going to shower alone, she had another thing coming.
The bathroom looked like it belonged in a palace, all pale marble and glass, big enough that the steam took a while to fill it.
She was standing under the rainfall shower, head tilted back, water streaming over every sinful curve of her body like she was in an R-rated movie.
I’d shrugged off my clothes in the doorway, my arousal already thick and heavy in my palm before I even stepped inside.
I closed the door behind me, letting the steam swallow me whole, and pressed a hand to the glass. She didn’t hear me until my chest brushed her back, palms sliding up her slick stomach.
“Tyler,” she gasped, spinning just enough for me to see her heat flushed face before my mouth covered hers. The water beat against us as I kissed her deep, tasting mint and heat on her.
“Morning, baby,” I murmured against her lips. “Rule number one of Vegas. You don’t start the day without me inside you.”
She gave an exasperated little laugh. “That a real rule?”
“It is now.”
I turned her around again, gripping her waist and pulling her against me so she could feel just how hard I was.
She braced her palms against the tiles. My height meant that I could peer over her shoulder and watch the rivulets of water cascade down her breasts before droplets formed and fell from her peaked nipples.
I leaned my mouth against the shell of her ear. “You see that ledge?” I nodded toward the wide marble bench built into the wall. “I’m gonna sit on it. Then you’re gonna come ride me like you mean it.”
I slid onto the bench slowly, holding her firmly by the hips as I did so. “Turn around,” I rasped.
She faced the other wall, hands braced on the tiles opposite the bench. I guided her down until the entrance of her pussy met the tip of my hard length. When she sank down onto me, reverse cowgirl, I swore so loud the steam couldn’t muffle it.
“Fuck…” My hands clamped onto her waist, guiding her down until I was buried to the hilt. The sight of her back arching, hair wet and heavy, water dripping off her skin as she rode me was obscene.
“Oh God, you feel so good like this” she moaned as she ground down in slow, rolling circles, then lifted and dropped again, harder. I leaned back against the tiles, one hand cupping her breast, the other splayed across her stomach so I could feel every thrust, every clench.
“That’s it,” I groaned, watching her ass slap against my thighs. “Ride me, baby. Show me how much you love my cock.”
Her moans echoed off the tile, bouncing back at us as she picked up pace, water spraying over our bodies. My grip on her hips tightened, guiding her down harder, deeper, until I could barely see straight.
“God, Tyler…” she gasped, head tipping back, wet hair plastered to her shoulders. “You feel so fucking good. I don’t want to stop.”
I groaned, teeth grazing her shoulder. “Then don’t. Ride me until you can’t breathe.”
She laughed breathlessly, hips rolling slower just to torture me. “You’ll break before I do.”
“Not a chance, baby.” I snapped my hips up, meeting her rhythm so hard the water sloshed against the bench. My hand reached down so that I could flick her clit whilst she worked against me.
Her nails dug into my thighs, her voice breaking. “Okay…fuck…maybe you’re right.”
Her body started to quake, every moan amplified as she was trying to give into it.
Seconds later she was coming, a sharp cry tearing out of her as her thighs trembled around me, clenching so tight I couldn’t hold back anymore.
She dragged me over the edge with her until I spilled cum so deep inside her, my forehead pressed to her shoulder.
We slumped together against the slick wall, panting, water still pounding down. Still inside her, I pulled her back flush against me. “Vegas,” I murmured against her wet skin. “Told you it’s all bad decisions.”
“That one didn’t seem so bad,” she whispered, her voice still recovering.
When she eased herself off me, I caught her by the hips and guided her beneath the spray, watching water glide over every inch I’d just ruined. I coaxed her thighs apart, hungry for the view of my release sliding down her inner thighs.
“Look at you,” I murmured, thumb tracing the inside of her knee. “God, baby… you’re perfect like this.”
I grabbed the shower gel, rubbing it between my palms, slowing down even though every nerve in me wanted to drag her back against the wall and fuck her again.
“Come here,” I said. “Let me take care of you. Let me clean up the mess I made of you.”
She bit her lip, leaning into me, her mouth brushing mine like she needed the contact just to stabilize. I slid my hand between her thighs, lathering gentle circles into her skin slowly and carefully while the other hand cupped the back of her neck. She let out the smallest whimper against my jaw,
By the time we stumbled out, dripping and deeply satisfied, room service was waiting outside the door but all I could think about was how I planned to get her out of whatever she decided to wear tonight.