Chapter 30
Evelyn
I don’t dare gamble at the casino, because I know I’ve already experienced enough luck to last a lifetime, and there’s no way I’ll hit it that big ever again.
So I sip on the free vodka sodas, mindlessly twirl my stool back and forth, and snicker at the guys’ misfortune as they endure a sickening losing streak on blackjack.
When I spot Addy and Hailey crossing the casino toward us, I’m relieved to finally have some female backup.
They’re walking arm in arm with easy expressions, giving me the impression that their chat about Theo went well.
It had to. There’s no chance in hell Adelaide would ever let anything ruin their friendship, and Hailey and Theo are cute together.
That kiss in front of the Las Vegas sign was adorable. Who knew Theo was such a romantic?
“Still friends?” I ask the girls.
“Always,” Addy says, flashing Hailey a smile.
They unlink arms at this point, and Hailey gravitates toward Theo while Addy slips into the empty stool next to Liam. They’re both enjoying their weekend with the men in their life, and I . . . Well, I have a seriously hot man upstairs. What am I doing down here on my own?
I’d rather be with Jameson, and in more ways than one.
I knock back the last of my vodka soda, clink the glass down on the edge of the blackjack table, and hop off my stool. “I’ll be back,” I tell no one in particular, given not one single person is paying attention to my departure.
A jolt of electricity shoots up my spine as I ride the elevator up to Jameson’s floor.
I like the damn guy, and I’ll probably never see him ever again after tonight, and I don’t want to leave Vegas with any regrets.
I thought the only regret I’d have would be if I gave myself to him too easily—but what if the thing I regret most is not being with him when I had the chance?
I stride down the corridor to his door, full of confidence and courage. There’s no nerves, no doubts. Since the moment I left his room earlier, I’ve missed him.
I want him.
Knocking on the door, I hold my breath and wait. There’s every possibility he’s on the phone and my interruption will not be appreciated, but if I don’t make my move now, I might not have another chance. I can’t survive the rest of the day feeling this feral for him.
The door opens.
“Hello again, Jameson,” I say.
Jameson’s wearing some white linen pants with a baby-blue shirt and if I wasn’t already planning on seducing him, then I absolutely would be now. He seems pleased to see me, because he leans against the doorframe and smirks. “Yes, Evie?”
“You’re not on a call right now, are you?”
“No, I’m not on a call right now.”
“Good.”
Reaching out for a fistful of his shirt, I close the gap between us and crash my lips to his.
We stumble backward into the room as the door clicks shut behind us.
Jameson’s hands are around my waist, pulling my body to his, and I’m clawing at his shirt, desperate for it to end up on the floor.
I kiss him hard and fervently, making my intentions clear.
Even salaciously bite his lip as I tear my mouth from his.
“I’ve decided something,” I say, breathing heavily as I work my hands down his shirt, undoing all of the buttons.
“I’d really like you to fuck me before the weekend is over, but there are two conditions.
” I push the shirt off his shoulders and reach for the button of his pants.
“One: A condom is a non-negotiable so if you don’t have one you better run to Walgreens before I undress you further.
Two: No oral. Ever. I don’t like it. Giving nor receiving.
Three”—I tug down his zipper and glance up at him from beneath my lashes—“you better be worth it.”
“Funny,” Jameson says, cupping my face in his hands, “those are my three conditions, too.”
His mouth finds mine again, his tongue working in wonderful, sexy ways.
Bodies pressed together, he guides me backward until my back hits the wall and he rakes his hands over the curve of my waist and down to my ass.
It’s so fucking clumsy and hot, like we’re so caught up in the moment we can’t even think straight.
I’m grabbing his hair, his forearms, anything, everything.
I feel the hot, thick swell of his dick against my stomach.
Jameson wraps a hand around my throat with just enough pressure to hold me in place against the wall.
His lips trail hungrily down my neck and I shudder with anticipation as his hand travels up the soft skin of my thigh, disappearing into my mini skirt.
My breaths turn shallow as he touches me over the lace of my underwear first, and then he moves my thong to one side, his fingers pressing against my clit.
With a whimper of satisfaction, I tilt my head back against the wall and close my eyes.
“Evelyn,” Jameson says, commanding my attention. He touches me with the expertise of a guy who’s definitely too old for me. “You like that, don’t you?”
I nod in response, his hand still against my throat.
“Tell me,” he orders, and the seductive heat of his breath dances across my face.
“I like that,” I murmur.
He eases a finger inside of me and I buck against his hand, riding out the pleasure. “Hmm?”
“Love that,” I whisper, my voice smothered by the moan that escapes me instead.
I squirm against him as he works his fingers at the perfect speed, and it stuns me just how close to the edge he’s able to get me already.
But it’s too much, too overpowering, so I stop him before I get there.
I push him away and take the lead. Slipping my hand inside his pants, I wrap my fist around his dick and feel smug with satisfaction. He’s so hard, so ready. All for me.
“Fuck,” Jameson hisses, pressing both his hands flat to the wall by the side of my head to support himself as he sinks into the pleasure of my touch. He buries his face into the crook of my neck as I work his dick from shaft to tip. “That’s it, baby girl.”
Hearing him praise me only makes me all the more determined to satisfy him, like suddenly my entire world revolves around making Jameson Park come. Yeah, fucking feral.
His verdant green eyes lock with mine and they’re wild with hunger. Suddenly, he’s tearing off my clothes like I fantasized he would. My top is whipped over my head, my skirt is tugged down my thighs, and he grabs my waist with his large, firm hands and physically turns me around.
“Don’t move,” he instructs.
I wait patiently, my forearms pressed to the wall in front of me.
Jameson crosses the hotel suite to grab his wallet, then returns with a foil wrapper in hand.
I watch him over my shoulder, eyes glazed with desire, as he steps out of his pants, his boxers, and tears the wrapper open with his teeth.
He stretches the condom over himself and I smirk back at him.
The only thing hotter than sex is safe sex.
“I fucking love the curve of your back,” Jameson says, and I shiver as he runs his index finger down my spine. “Is this still okay, Evie?”
“Yes,” I say with a nod.
Jameson steps up close behind me, one hand grabbing my hip to hold me steady.
His lips caress my shoulder blade as he eases his dick inside of me, almost cautiously at first, and then he enters me fully and deeply.
I bite my lower lip so hard I’m convinced I’ve drawn blood.
My head falls forward as I brace my forearms against the wall, maintaining the perfect arch of my back.
“You’re so wet. You want me bad, don’t you?” Jameson says, voice like delicate silk.
“So fucking bad,” I groan.
Against the wall of his luxury hotel suite, he fucks me the exact way I imagined he would—with confidence, steady stamina, and control.
His fingers dig deep into my hipbone as he pulls on the ends of my hair with his other hand, and his thrusts are strong and deliberate.
With every stroke, I moan in response. His breaths turn to pants and he reaches around me, his hand working my clit to bring me to release.
This time, as the pleasure mounts, I don’t fight it.
I embrace it, all of the spots he’s perfectly hitting.
“I’m . . . so close . . .” I murmur breathlessly.
“Me too,” Jameson grunts. He presses his forehead against my back, his skin burning hot against mine. He doesn’t change a single thing he’s doing. He thrusts into me from behind; rubs his fingers fast over my clit; presses his lips to my warm, soft skin.
An explosive gasp fills the air as I come around Jameson’s dick.
The waves of pleasure ripple through me and I can’t pick out a single damn thought inside my head—I’m totally scattered, my vision blurred, a ringing in my ears.
Jameson groans alongside me, and he thrusts faster, more desperately, until suddenly his entire weight collapses against me.
“Fuck,” he pants, and our deep breaths fill the room as time momentarily stands still.
Jameson pulls out of me, and I twist around to look at him, my body resting back against the wall as I catch my breath. His face is flushed with color and perspiration. Our hazy gazes connect, and he laughs, all breathless and feathery, like the most beautiful melody I’ve ever head.
“Damn,” he says. “Please tell me that was worth it?”
“Absolutely worth it,” I say with a grin, wrapping my hand around the nape of his neck and drawing his lips to mine as I kiss him once more.
Jameson slides his hands under my ass and effortlessly lifts me from the ground, mid-kiss.
My legs instinctively wrap around his waist, my arms looped around his shoulders, and he carries me through the hotel suite to the bedroom and sets me down on the huge bed.
I lean back on my elbows, stark naked under the burning sunshine streaming into the room.
Jameson cleans himself up and slips on a pair of boxers while I admire his physique, watching his muscles contract as he moves around the room.
He’s like a goddamn A-list movie star, and I’m pretty sure I’m salivating.
Blowing out a breath, he collapses on the bed next to me, resting on his side as his eyes devour me. He runs a finger down my breastbone, the warmth of his touch triggering goosebumps. “Why’d you change your mind?”
“I didn’t want to regret not finding out what you had to offer,” I tease, “and I’m happy to report I’m pleased with the results.
” I reach for his hand as it travels down my chest, bringing his index finger to my lips.
“Do you need to get back to making any work calls or can you spare another five minutes?” Eyes locked intimately on his, I slowly lick from the base of his finger to the tip, and Jameson parts his lips with a small exhale.
“You know . . .” he says, voice heated, “I was just thinking I wasn’t quite done with you yet.”
Yay. Round two, baby. And this time, I’m taking charge.
I press my hand flat against Jameson’s hard chest and push him flat on his back. His green eyes spark with arousal as I swing my body over his, sitting on his stomach and straddling his hips. I reach behind me, palming his dick over the soft cotton of his boxers, and . . .
“Oh,” I say, shyly biting my lip. “I thought you’d need—”
“You thought wrong. I’m ready to go again,” Jameson says, large hands gripping my waist as he tugs me forward to meet his hungry, aching kiss. “Your body is incredible. So fucking perfect.”
My head buzzes with endorphins from the praise, and as I tear my lips from his, I hold up a finger in front of him. “Wait right here.”
I slip off the bed and out of the bedroom.
Across the hotel suite, I find his wallet and flip it open, praying that this man has enough of an ego that he carries around more than one condom.
He does. I pluck the foil wrapper from his wallet and waltz back into the bedroom, brandishing it between my index and middle finger with a smirk.
“Get that ass back over here,” Jameson orders, patting his hips. He’s leaning back against the headboard now, waiting patiently for my return, and somehow his boxers have evaporated into thin air in the seconds I’ve been gone from the room.
Parading back over to the bed with a strut in my step, I tear open the foil packet and slide the condom over him while he watches, his hips lifting from the bed in anticipation.
I resume my position from before, resting on my knees either side of his body.
Biting my lip in concentration, I rise and guide him inside of me.
I hum a sigh of satisfaction, embracing that feeling of him once more.
So full. So . . . I sigh contentedly. Pure heaven.
I glance up at him and he gives me an encouraging nod.
I press one hand to the headboard behind him, the other on his shoulder, and I put every damn Pilates class I’ve ever attended to good use.
It’s like an art, the performance I pull off.
I grind back and forth around his dick, rotate my hips in rhythmic circles, even switch from sitting on my knees up onto my feet at one point to take him even deeper.
My breasts bounce as I move and he grabs them, pulls my hair, squeezes my ass, anything he can get his hands on.
“Fuck, I’d let you steal my watch now for sure,” he hisses, wrapping a hand around my back and pulling my body flush against his. “I’d let you steal everything I own, Evelyn.”
I work him close to the edge, then get myself there, too, rubbing frantically at my swollen clit as my legs begin to tire. I throw my head back, eyes squeezed shut. I bounce faster, harder. Touch myself more desperately. Embrace Jameson’s hot mouth against the soft skin of my neck.
And then it rips through me, that second eruption of pleasure, and I feel my weight collapse against him as a gasp tears from my throat.
Jameson seizes control. Both arms wrapped tightly around my back and holding me close, he thrusts hard and purposefully from beneath me, until he’s panting, breathless, and filling the hotel suite with the sound of his desperate groans.
We’ve worked up such a sweat. Our skin is clammy, flushed from exertion, and my heart pounds at an alarming rate. I cup Jameson’s face in my hands and force him to look at me as he recovers.
“I don’t often come twice in ten minutes. In fact, never,” I say. “Honestly, I feel a little delirious. Like I’m lightheaded and seeing stars.”
“You and me both, baby girl.” Jameson blows out a long breath, then laughs, all gorgeous and husky, the laugh of a man who’s just gone for two rounds with a woman ten years younger than him. “I’m done making work calls. Wherever you go for the rest of the day, I’m following you.”
“Then freshen up,” I say, planting a kiss on his forehead and running my hand playfully through his damp hair, “because we have a bachelorette party we need to get back to.”