Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
BEAU
This Is Fucking Torture.
I didn’t think this whole plan through, and this is what I get for flying to Vegas on a whim to stay with someone I’m insanely attracted to, but who is all wrong for me—I get blue balls.
From the moment I walked in on her in that lace underwear a few hours ago, I haven’t been able to get that picture out of my mind.
Her body is perfect. Soft and curvy in all the right places.
And all I want is to touch her, to make her feel good, to worship that body like it deserves to be worshiped.
Except, she made it clear when I showed up at her hotel room door this morning that she only sees us as friends.
I had hoped she’d jump into my arms when I showed up at her door (however unlikely I knew that was), but she seems intent on pretending that this is just friendship.
A guy doesn’t hop on a plane and show up at your hotel room because he’s a good friend.
But whatever. We can play this game if it’s what she needs.
I came here to help her have a better weekend, and even though sex would obviously make this weekend better, she doesn’t seem inclined to go there.
With the exception of the thirty minutes on the High Roller observation wheel where she curled back into my chest—and only because she’s scared of heights—she’s been nothing but platonic.
When we made it down to the casino floor and met up with the rest of the group, her sister and Georgia were already there.
Joe and Luke gave me a knowing smirk when I arrived with my hand on Sierra’s lower back, but I just gave them a small shake of my head.
They’d been grilling me all afternoon, insisting that I wouldn’t have flown in and surprised her unless something was going on between us.
But she’d shown me that wasn’t what she wanted, and I thought I’d managed to convince the guys there was nothing but friendship there.
But when they saw us arrive together, they weren’t buying it.
Even though Sierra immediately ditched me to stand next to her sister and Georgia, even though she never once touched me while the guys and I sat there and played Black Jack, not even when I won a really nice payout.
Right now, the six of us are sitting in a big round booth finishing up dinner.
Sierra’s next to me on the end, and so that she can see and talk to everyone, she has her entire body angled toward me, the knees of her crossed legs resting against my thigh—and she has no idea what it is doing to my body.
She’s more relaxed now that she’s had a couple drinks, and she’s close enough that I feel her phone vibrate in the pocket of her jacket.
She pulls her phone out while Georgia tells an animated story about living in Los Angeles, and Sierra’s deep sigh has me turning toward her. Without even looking at me, she holds the phone for me to see the photo on her screen. Heather has sent her a picture of Winston chewing on a bone.
“Is it stupid that I miss the little devil?” she whispers.
Her head has made its way to my shoulder, so I rest my cheek against her hair. “Nope. He’s pretty damn lovable. But it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have a good time while you’re here.” I don’t mention that she also needs to get used to life without him, since eventually he’ll get adopted.
The picture on her screen is replaced by a notification that Sydney is sending her a photo.
She taps to accept it, and her screen is filled with a picture of us, looking down at the phone.
Her head rests on my shoulder and her lower lip protrudes in the sweetest pouty face, and my face is mostly obscured as we look down at her phone.
We both glance over and Sydney, who gives us a wink. Georgia’s still telling her story, so I whisper to Sierra, “You should post that. Caption it something about us missing him.”
“I feel like that will just inflame our followers even more, make them think something is definitely happening here,” she says and I don’t know if she even realizes that she’s moved her hand to my thigh.
“Then let them think so. If it gets more people paying attention to Winston, who cares?”
I feel a little head nod against my cheek. She opens the app and chooses the photo, then types out the caption My humans are in Vegas for a wedding. When my dog sitter sends pictures, they sure do miss me!
I tell her it’s perfect and she adds a few of the hashtags we always use before she posts it, then she mumbles about how we’ll probably regret it.
The only thing I’m going to regret about this weekend is not being as close to her as I want to be.
Because this super-close friends stage that we’ve found ourselves at is not nearly enough for me.
I don’t want her physically—I mean, I do want her that way, desperately—I want more.
And it’s such a foreign desire, I don’t even know what “more” means for a guy like me.
We are at our third bar since dinner and so far Sierra is holding up her end of the sister-of-the-bride bargain.
She’s made sure Sydney has a glass of water in between each drink, and she’s planned our night so we’re basically just having one drink at each bar we go to, then walking and getting fresh air in between.
Until now, I’d have described Sydney as sober even though she had a couple drinks with dinner and has had a few since.
“Here’s to Lemieux women being able to hold their alcohol,” Sydney is saying loudly as she reaches over to clink her drink with Sierra’s.
Joe told me that Sydney was a hot mess during the blizzard, and even more so when their flight to Vegas was delayed by three hours, but that by the time they finally arrived, she’d calmed down a little.
But she’s one hundred percent committed to not getting sick before her wedding, so I’m a tad surprised to see her trying to pound back drinks now.
“Yes,” Sierra tells her sister with a huge smile, “but you don’t want to be hungover tomorrow. Or sick tonight. So we’re going to take a break after this drink.”
“What kind of break?” Sydney asks. Next to her, Georgia is sitting on Luke’s lap and by the way she’s gently moving her hips and the look on his face, I imagine she’s whispering some downright dirty shit to him.
“Dancing!” Sierra says, nodding toward the packed dance floor.
“Ohh,” Sydney squeals. She sets her drink on the table and grabs Sierra with one hand and pulls Georgia off Luke’s lap with the other. “Let’s dance now.”
Before she’s pulled away by her sister, Sierra leans up and asks me to convince Joe to take Sydney back to their room soon. I’m sure she doesn’t mean to accidentally capture my earlobe in her lips before she’s dragged away by her sister.
“Holy crap, I need to get my wife up to our hotel room soon, or we’re going to end up having sex in public,” Luke says as he crosses his ankle over his knee and adjusts himself.
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Joe says.
“Yeah, but I’m not looking to get arrested tonight. Talk about ruining your wedding. Nope, we’re all here to make sure it happens as planned. Which means after this song, I am taking Georgia straight back to the hotel.”
“Funny,” I say, “Sierra just asked me to have Joe take Sydney back to their room too.”
Joe glances over at where Sydney is dancing in her short white dress with her Bride To Be sash falling off her shoulder and her light brown hair flowing around her as she moves to the beat. Another thing about Lemieux women—they can dance.
“I think you just want to get Sierra back to your hotel room,” Joe says.
He’s not wrong. But also, he is. I want to stay out, dance with Sierra, and have time to hang out with her without everyone else watching and trying to figure out what’s going on between us.
I know that if we headed back to the hotel room now, it’ll be awkward, especially with our sleeping arrangement.
That bed’s big, but not big enough for me to forget we’re in it together.
“No, Sierra and I are staying out. But I think you’d be crazy not to take your wife and future wife,” I say, nodding to each of them individually, “back to your hotel rooms before they’re too drunk.”
“You’re not just trying to get my future sister-in-law drunk and take advantage of her without us here to stop you, right?” Joe says.
“Dude, really? Not only am I not trying to take advantage of her, I’m trying to make sure she doesn’t make any stupid decisions this weekend either.”
Joe nods. “Just had to make sure.”
Luke turns and nods toward the girls as the song changes. “I’m going to go get Georgia,” he says to Joe. “You coming?”
Joe finishes the last of his beer and then stands. “Take good care of Sierra,” he says to me.
“I will,” I assure him, then I grab her drink and mine and follow them to the dance floor.
When Sydney and Georgia turn to follow Joe and Luke, Sierra looks at me and nods toward the front of the bar like we’re leaving too. I step right in front of her and lean my head down to her. “We’re staying,” I tell her as I hand her the drink.
“Really?” her eyes light up. “You finally going to dance with me?”
“I didn’t know you’d been waiting for me to.”
“Only since Jackson’s wedding,” she says, slinging one hand over my shoulder and taking a sip of her drink with the other.
“I’d hate to disappoint you then,” I say, stepping even closer to her.
An hour later, our bodies are connected at the hips.
She’s a phenomenal dancer and there’s no part of her that hasn’t rubbed up against some part of me at this point in the night.
Her skin glistens with sweat, minuscule beads of it across her chest and over her shoulders and down her spine.
I want to dip my head and drag my tongue up her neck.
If she was some girl I’d met at a bar, there’d be no question that she is coming home with me and we are getting naked together. Tonight, the first part is a given. But does the seduction of her dance moves mean she wants to fuck me, or is she just having fun because she sees me as “safe”?