Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Note to self: What happens in Vegas does not stay in Vegas.
I got home yesterday, and after a very sleepless and unsatisfying night of trying to pleasure myself to get the memory of Sammie and the best sex of my life moment out of my system, it didn’t work.
I spent the night recalling every detail about the man, right down to the little scar at the top of his eyebrow. I should have asked how he got it. Maybe if I knew, I wouldn’t still be thinking about it.
I’ve never had a problem leaving after a one-night stand. I don’t get attached. I’ve experienced too much loss in my life to want to ever be attached to anyone. Well, apart from Alice. But in all fairness, I was attached to her before the loss.
I scull the lukewarm coffee that’s been sitting on my desk for the last half hour. I have my first client in ten minutes, and I need to snap out of whatever this is.
“Hey, you look like shit.” My business partner pops her head into my office.
“Well, thanks.” I roll my eyes. I’m aware I have bags on top of bags and dark circles.
That happens when you don’t sleep, because every time you close your eyes, you see some stranger that gave you five orgasms in one night.
I know the number because he made me count them.
I’m never going to have sex like that again.
Men like him just don’t exist in Kestral Valley.
This place is a sleepy little country town full of men who are either way too scared of my family or too intimidated by my last name to touch me.
Usually my one-night stands happen when I make the trek into the city. That’s when I can become a stranger, another face in the crowd. And it never gets back to my overbearing family.
“You just look tired,” Kellie clarifies. “Are you okay?”
“It’s Vegas. It will tire out even the hardest of partiers,” I joke.
“I’m sure it would. I’ve got a client, but yours just walked in as well,” she says. “I’ve set him up in your room, but if you want, I can take him off your hands.”
“No, it’s fine. I’ve got this,” I insist.
It’s a guy anyway. They mostly only come in for an eyebrow touchup or something easy like that.
I’m an esthetician, but around these parts, the cowboys are vain as fuck and they like to look their best, especially their eyebrows.
It started when I made my cousin Jaxson let me shape the two bushy caterpillars he had on his face and now they all want nice, manicured eyebrows.
Standing, I push my chair in and walk into the treatment room. I don’t look at the figure sitting on the bed. Instead, I turn to the bench and pick up the chart. I like to keep notes of what treatments people have had done previously.
“Mister…” I frown. Great, now I’m seeing his damn name on my paperwork. Shaking my head, I spin around and freeze. Because not only am I seeing his name on my chart, I’m seeing his body on my treatment bed.
“Hey, little runaway, miss me?” The cocky bastard raises a brow.
I blink, leaving my eyes closed for a whole ten seconds before opening them again. Nope, he’s still here. “What? Why? What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not done with you yet.”
“Yet?”
“I woke up and wanted you again and you were gone,” Sammie says.
“Did that hurt your ego or something?” I cock a hip.
“No.” He chuckles. “Did hurt my dick, though. Wanna kiss it better?”
Do I ever? My mouth waters at the thought of dropping to my knees right here and taking him down the back of my throat.
But, no, I’m not doing that. One night has me in all kinds of a spin. I don’t think a second trip down Mr. Tall-Hard-and-Big is going to end well for me.
“I’m good,” I tell him. “Usually, if a woman leaves before you wake up, it’s because she doesn’t actually want another round with you.”
“Is that what it means? It’s never happened to me before,” he says.
“First time for everything. Now, if you don’t mind, I have actual clients who would love to take this time-slot.”
“Give me a menu.” He holds out a hand.
“Excuse me?”
“I want a treatment. I’m a paying client here. Give me a menu,” he repeats.
“You want a beauty treatment?”
“What? You think all of this happens naturally?” He circles a finger around his face.
Yes, I do think his beauty is natural. Or some deal he made with the devil still isn’t out of the question. Maybe he was telling me the truth when he said he was the devil.
“Fine. I’ll give you a treatment, but it’s my choice. Lie down,” I tell him.
“Yes, ma’am.” He smirks and drops back on the bed.
I walk over to the micro-needling machine and get everything ready. Sammie lies still as I then apply some cleanser to his face, massaging it in before wiping it off and applying some serums.
“You have really good skin. This isn’t the first time you’ve been to a spa, is it?”
“I have a little sister. She likes spa days.” He shrugs.
“And you go with her?”
“She’s my only sibling. If she wants to do something with me, I go along with it,” he says.
“What’s her name?”
“Imogen. You got any siblings?”
“No, but I have a handful of cousins around these parts,” I tell him.
“Your last name have anything to do with the name of this town?” he asks.
And there it is, the thing that will have him running. “Yep, my family basically owns the town. Grandfathers of generations past built the place.”
“That’s a really cool family legacy to have,” Sammie says.
I pause the fingers that are currently massaging his face. “That doesn’t bother you?”
“That your family owns a town? Why? Should it?”
“Men around here tend to run in the other direction because of my name.” I shrug.
“I’m not from around here.” He smirks.
“No, the three-piece suit really makes that clear.” I laugh. I feel slightly bad for what I’m about to do when I pick up my needling pen. “Hold still. If it gets to be too much, let me know and we can stop.”
“If what gets to be too much?”
“This.” I run the pen down the first part of his forehead.
Sammie doesn’t even flinch. “What is that?”
“Needling. It’s going to resurface your skin, make it as smooth as a baby,” I tell him.
“People pay you to do this to them?”
“Yep.” I smile. “Does it hurt?”
“I can handle it,” he says.
“Okay.” I continue running the pen over his skin. I thought he’d be jumping off the bed and telling me to go to hell by now. “So, you really flew all the way out here just to try to get in my panties again?”
“Most people don’t turn down a second round at, and I quote: The best sex of my life, Alice, the best sex I’m ever going to have,” he says.
“How do you know I told Alice that?” I pause, hovering a hand over his face.
Sammie is staring up at me. “I watched the CCTV footage of you leaving the casino.”
“They have audio? Like people are actually listening to us in those places?” I ask.
“Yup. We also have lip-readers on staff if the audio isn’t caught,” he says.
“That’s… Wait… I never told you what town I was from or where I worked. How did you find me?”
“I have resources.” He shrugs again.
“Okay, we’re done.” I set the pen down, pick up a wipe, and clean off his face, more out of habit than anything else. “I don’t know what you thought coming here was going to achieve but you need to leave.”
Sammie catches my wrist when I walk around to the side of the table. Within seconds, he’s sitting up and pulling me to stand between his spread legs. “We are not done,” he says. “Why would you turn down the best sex of your life?”
“Because one night with you broke me. I’m going to be trying to repair that damage for probably months. I don’t need to get more broken.”
“Broke you? How?” His concerned eyes roam up and down my body. “Did I hurt you?”
“No, you didn’t hurt me. Worse. I couldn’t get myself off last night because all I could think about was how good you were. You messed with my head.”
Sammie smiles wide at me. “Let me take you out for dinner.”
“You do not want to take me out for dinner around here,” I tell him.
“I don’t say shit I don’t mean. I’m picking you up at seven.”
“Let me guess? You know where I live as well?” I ask him.
“Sure do, Poppy Luanne Kestral.” He smirks before leaning forward and pressing his lips to mine.
My body isn’t onboard with my mind, because instead of pulling back and slapping him across the face, I’m melting into him. And then, as if nothing happened, he pulls back, stands, and walks out of the room.
It’s not until I pivot towards the bed that I see the hundred-dollar bills he left there for me. I frown, pick them up, and pocket them. I’ll shove ?em back in his face when he turns up on my doorstep tonight, because I have no doubt he will.