Chapter 51
FIFTY-ONE
Cane
The city shines at my feet like a chick across the bar used to. It looks good until you get up close and see it was a fifty-foot paint job. Thank God that’s not a part of my life anymore.
I’ve never particularly liked this city. I had a few good nights here when I was younger and dumber. Everyone you meet on the Strip is a shark playing their own game, and that shit gets old. I can find people wanting to use me at home; I don’t have to come to Vegas to get it.
There’s no way Jada was coming here without me. Damn Kari for even suggesting it in the first place. Although, I think after my initial reaction, Kari kept bringing it up to watch me squirm. So I took this fucked-up idea and do what I always do—bend it to suit me.
And suit me, it will.
I hope.
Nah, it will. ’Cause I’m me.
I take a sip of water and wait for my girl.
We chilled by the pool all day and have reservations for dinner shortly.
She wanted to go for pizza, but I want to spoil her a little.
So she’s in the shower doing the girly stuff she likes to do.
I love when she makes the extra effort for my benefit, but she looks just as beautiful when she rolls out of bed in the morning, pissy because she didn’t get enough sleep.
Calm or riled up, made-up or in my T-shirt, she’s gorgeous.
And she’s mine.
I feel her walk into the room behind me. The air gets hot, and the hairs on the back of my neck alert me to her presence. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear she had a magnet inside her that drew me.
As she comes closer, I can see her reflection in the glass.
She has her hair up and wears a red dress that hugs her curves.
I breathe in deeply, yet quietly, searching for her scent.
A blend of her perfume and her natural essence washes over me and brings everything into focus. She’s the calm in my chaos.
Her scent races through my senses, and my nerves awaken. I need my hands on her. Now.
I set the bottle of water on the windowsill and turn to face her.
She smiles at me, twirling her ring on her finger. She smooths her dress down, and my eyes go with the motion: down her voluptuous chest, around the sweet curve of her hip, and trail down the legs that seem to go forever in her heels.
Sexy. As. Fuck.
“You ready, babe?” Her voice is quiet. It makes me grin.
She’s different from any woman I’ve ever met in my life.
She’s beautiful and elegant, approachable yet sophisticated.
She’s the complete fucking package, and to top it off, I’m more attracted to her than I’ve ever been to anyone.
Because that’s the thing. Regardless of how beautiful or sexy a woman is, it never translated into chemistry or desire for more than a night or two.
But with Jada, I want her. I fucking need her every single day and night.
“I’m ready to take that dress off you.”
She laughs softly, her cheeks blushing. “Not yet, Mr. Alexander. We have to have dinner first.”
I make my way across the room, the plush carpet sinking with each step. My fingers itch to touch her skin; I want to feel her move beneath my touch. “All of that is irritating,” I grumble, pulling her into me. I bury my face in the crook of her neck, kissing her lightly.
“All of what?”
“That I can’t have my dessert first ... and that I can’t call you Mrs. Alexander.”
“Ah, well, you will soon. You’re just going to have to be patient.”
“We’ve been over that,” I say, leaving a trail of kisses from behind her ear to her mouth.
I capture her lips with mine. She sighs into my mouth and then runs her fingers through my hair like it’s hers to do with what she wants. I love it. I’m ready to call off dinner whether she likes it or not. She’s saved by a knock on the door.
“It’s probably Kari and Max,” she whispers.
“Fuck them.”
“Cane! We can’t bail on dinner the first night here.”
“Why not? They’re grown-ups. They can eat without us.”
She twists her head away from me toward the door. “Come in.”
“Y’all ready?”
I groan at the Southern drawl and lift my head to see Max and Kari standing in the doorway. Max grins, knowing he’s interrupted me and enjoying my frustration.
Bastard.
“We are.” Jada smiles. “Let me grab my purse.”