3. Emery
Emery
The warm water is soothing, lapping against my legs as I make my way down the steps. Ripples reach out, stirring the water. It’s freeing to not have guards standing watch. There’s no one judging my every move or holding me to unreasonable standards.
When the water reaches my chest, I lie back, floating on the surface and looking up at Hayes. The night sky practically glows from the city lights, casting a dull halo around him.
My hair fans out, and I close my eyes, sinking into the comfort of the night.
Hayes is probably regretting inviting me to his room, but he still hasn’t kicked me out, so that’s got to mean something.
After floating for a moment, the water moves, and I blink my eyes open to find him stripped down to his boxer briefs and stepping into the pool. Every inked muscle moves with strength and precision. He might as well be carved from stone. It’s a sight that has my breath lodged in my throat.
Hayes is lean but strong. His thighs flex with every step. I’ve never thought twice about thighs, but his muscles are practically pornographic.
Hayes smirks when he catches me staring. He lowers into the water and moves toward me. But like in the elevator, he doesn’t touch or come too close. There’s a safe distance filled with so much tension I’m practically vibrating.
We move to the edge of the pool, where a glass ledge is all that sits between us and the many stories below. Resting my arms on it, I gaze out at Las Vegas.
“So, tell me something about you.” I watch him from the corner of my eye, but he’s looking out at the view.
Water beads over his round shoulders, slowly dripping over his inked skin.
Is it possible to be jealous of water?
“What do you want to know?” He catches me staring, so I look away.
“You’re in a motorcycle club.” I clear my throat, gathering my composure.
“Is that a question?”
“No.” I glance at the leather vest draped over the chair. “Your vest thing gave you away.”
“My cut.” He smiles. “The vest thing. It’s called a cut.”
“Oh, right.” I bite my lower lip. “Why?”
“Why is it called a cut?”
“No, why are you in the club?”
He drags a hand through his blond hair, water darkening his strands. “There wasn’t really another option. I was born into it. Raised by it. It’s who I am.”
“Do you like it?”
“It’s not really about liking it or not. It’s my life.”
“You can hate your life, and that would still be true.” I frown, looking out at the city again—at the markers towering in the night that define my own life.
Towers I’ll never escape.
Even though I’m not looking at Hayes, I feel him watching me. Heat sears as if he can see straight through the wall I’m used to keeping up around people.
“I guess you’re right. I like being in the club. They’re my family.” He shifts a little closer, making waves in the water. “What about you?”
He turns so only one arm is propped on the ledge now. His knee brushes my leg, and heat floods my cheeks.
“What about me?”
“I told you something about myself. It’s only fair you return the favor.”
“You didn’t tell me anything. Your cut did.” My eyebrow hitches. “Besides, I’m boring. There’s nothing to know.”
“I highly doubt that, Emery…” He trails off, eyebrows pinching. “You haven’t told me your last name.”
“You’re right. I haven’t.”
I can’t. There isn’t a person in Vegas who doesn’t know my last name.
It’s on the largest casino downtown. And even if Hayes is a biker and might not care about my uncle or his casino business, I like that I’m nobody to him.
I’m just a girl out to party for the night.
The second anyone finds out my last name, everything inevitably changes.
“I’ll tell you what…” I turn to face him, and I swear he’s moved closer because I can see every droplet of water running over his skin. “I’ll answer three questions, but none of them can be too personal.”
“What classifies as too personal?”
“Family. Work.” I shrug. “Things that are too close to home.”
He hums, considering my offer. “All right, I’ll play. What’s your least favorite color?”
“My least favorite?” I laugh. “I can’t say I’ve ever been asked that.”
Hayes shifts closer. “I aim to surprise you.”
“I’m sure you do.” I roll my eyes. “Probably red. It’s just so bright and angry.”
“Angry? I didn’t know a color could have feelings.”
“Well, red does,” I argue. “What about you?”
“I thought I was the one asking the questions.”
“You are. And you’re also answering them.” My eyes narrow.
“Bossy.” He grins, not seeming the least bit put off by it. “Fair enough. Green. Next question—”
“No, not next question. Why green?” My eyebrows pinch. “Your eyes are green.”
“So were my mom’s.” He tilts his head. “But I’m pretty sure explaining that any further would break your no-personal-questions clause.”
Hayes watches me, and I realize he’s using my own rules against me. So I angle my chin up. No matter how much I want to know what about his mom’s eyes might make him hate the color green, asking him to answer will mean I might have to tell him something personal as well.
“Fair enough. Next question.”
He smirks. “What’s the biggest lie you’ve ever told?”
“That feels serious.”
He shakes his head. “You don’t even have to explain yourself if you don’t want to.”
“Okay.” I nibble my lower lip. “Biggest lie… They all love peanuts.”
Hayes’s eyebrows pinch.
“You said I didn’t have to explain myself,” I remind him. “Your turn.”
His face turns grim as he considers his. “Let’s go talk about it.”
“That’s it?”
He nods once. “That’s it.”
Just because I can’t ask him to elaborate doesn’t stop me from wondering who he said that to or why. Maybe this game was a terrible idea. I have more questions than answers.
“Last question.” He quickly shifts gears. “What’s one part of your body you hate being touched?”
My stomach flutters as his eyes rake over me. With the water soaking my bra and underwear, the lace hides nothing. Hayes appreciates every inch with his gaze, and there’s not much I don’t want touched by him.
I swallow hard, looking away. “My belly button.”
“Your—” He bursts out laughing. “That’s the last thing I was expecting.”
“I know it’s weird, but it’s true. I hate things touching my belly button. I swear you can feel it all the way inside your body and not in a good way.” I shiver just thinking about it. “What about you?”
His nose scrunches. “Fuck, I don’t even know what I was going to say, but now that you said all that shit about belly buttons, I think I agree.”
I laugh, shaking my head and turning to the ledge. “Well, that’s your three questions.”
“Mm-hmm.” He stays beside me, quiet for a minute, watching me kick my feet in the water.
Below us, the city sparkles. A mirage in the desert that lures in the tourists. If only they could see what’s beneath the shine.
“You’ve got a lot on your mind tonight,” he says, breaking the silence.
“What makes you say that?”
“Just a feeling.”
I glance over at Hayes. “Do you ever have one of those nights where you know everything in your life is about to change? Like you got something a little too good, so now something bad is coming. Like that little bit of good is the last you’re going to get.”
He must think I’m losing my mind.
Maybe I am.
Below us, hope and pleasure stretch for miles. A city of sin and possibility. And yet, I know when I leave this room, the chains will wrap so tightly, I’ll say goodbye to all of it.
Hayes’s eyebrows pinch as he looks me over. But when his gaze meets mine, there’s no judgment, just understanding.
“Do you ever feel like that?” It’s nearly a whisper.
“All the time.” His stare drops to my mouth. “Guess that’s why when it’s good you have to grab onto it.”
I peel myself off the ledge and move toward him. If this is all I get, then he’s right. Why not take what I came here for? I might have walked up to him in the casino only wanting a kiss, but the moment his lips landed on mine, I needed all of him.
Following him up to his room was never about the view. I’ve seen it a thousand times from my own room. This is about how Hayes makes me feel. And if I’m about to give up my life—my soul—then I should claim something for myself one last time.
Hayes snags my hand, pulling me to him. Water waves between us as our chests collide.
It’s gravity.
Magnetism.
Something greater intervenes as I wrap my arms and legs around his body, and his mouth meets mine. The world could fall apart around us, and I’d be unable to tear my attention away from him. He’s a need, and I’m aching.
Hayes spins us so my back is to the pool ledge, and I’m overcome with emotion.
Fear.
Desire.
Hunger.
My fingers dig into the back of his hair as my kiss turns greedy. He meets me with equal desperation. He’s out to devour, and I want to let him.
Until his forehead presses to mine, breaking the kiss so he can catch his breath.
“You’re too fucking good for a man like me, freckles.” Hayes traces the dots on my cheek, so gently it’s as if he’s scared what will happen beneath his touch.
“You don’t know that. You don’t know me.”
“I know enough to know you should tell me to stop.”
“I can’t.” It’s a whisper.
A confession.
There’s this need I can’t deny.
His cock is steel, pressed to my core, and I know I’m not alone in this desperation as I grind my hips against him. The movement is a question—a demand. A need that only he can sate. I’m burning up. Brighter than all the lights in the city below.
“I need you tonight,” I confess, brushing my lips over his. If only he knew that simple statement holds more truth than anything I’ve said before it. “Fuck me, Hayes.”
A groan reverberates in his chest. If there’s a cord of restraint, I feel the moment it snaps.
His mouth lands on mine, and there’s no more holding back.
His tongue searches, and I don’t resist in the slightest. I’m moldable in his hands, which caress and roam freely.
He kisses the path down my neck, lifting me in the water to give him better access as he slips the cups of my bra down and takes my nipple between his teeth.