Wild Nights (3 page)

Chapter Four

There weren’t many people in the high roller room with her and Noah. A few people sat at the various slot machines throughout. Two gentlemen sat at the blackjack table with them, seemingly bored as they bet a tremendous amount of money with each hand.

Playing blackjack was very strategic. Natalie had figured that out right away. She hadn’t lost much, but she hadn’t won much either. She was what her grandma called maintaining. Yep, her grandma loved to gamble. Used to take bus trips to Vegas until her hips starting bothering her too much and she couldn’t get around as well as she used to.

Noah sat dutifully at her side, playing his own hand, winning big and losing big too, since he was also betting large amounts of money with each hand. Being with him like this was a huge distraction, which meant her strategic blackjack playing plans went right out the window. He seemed intent on offering her flirtatious encouragement and touching her constantly.

The touching part she liked. A lot. She swore her lips were still tingling from his earlier kiss. The man had skills. She could give him that. And he was so warm. She could feel his body heat radiating toward her, drawing her in. The thought of giving up on this gambling stuff for the night and cuddling close with him had major appeal.

Yet she carried on, not yet wanting to sacrifice all her game play and potential winnings. She was being ridiculous, she knew it. Probably had something to do with the free drinks she kept accepting. Orange juice and vodka had sounded perfectly innocent when she first ordered it.

“You know they call that a screwdriver,” Noah had told her, his gaze heated, his smoky voice heavily emphasizing the word screw.

“It’s orange juice and a splash of vodka,” she’d reassured him. “The drinks are free. They won’t have a ton of alcohol in them.”

She’d been wrong. Her head was spinning. And she was inordinately focused on winning big money, though she was scared to bet big. She wanted to pay back Noah. She wanted a night she’d never forget. She wanted…

Another drink.

“No more drinks for you,” Noah said with a gentle smile after she made that request.

“Why not?” She mock pouted, noting the way his lips curled into a sly smile. Good. Maybe he liked it when she pouted. Did he like her? Could he really? She found it sort of impossible because… Look at him. He was Noah Wilde. Famous worldwide and so sexy it almost hurt to look at him.

But she continued looking at him because she liked it. Liked him. A lot.

“I think you’ve had enough.” He touched her shoulder, giving it a squeeze, and she automatically forgave him for refusing her drink request. He was so touchy feely. “Are you ready to quit for the night?”

“No way,” she said firmly, shaking her head. “Maybe I should go play a slot machine. I’m never going to hit the big one with how lame I’m doing.”

They played their last hand and then left the blackjack table, Noah leaving a few chips behind as tip for the dealer. Natalie let her gaze skim the various machines as they passed them by, trying to find the perfect one, desperate to make a little money. She wanted to prove to Noah she could gamble with the big dogs.

“Which machine looks good to you?” she asked him.

Noah smiled at her. “They’re all full of possibility, sweetheart. I don’t think it much matters.”

A shiver moved through her when he called her sweetheart. She liked that, how affectionate he was. She pretty much liked everything about him. He’d been so patient when he’d taught her how to play blackjack. And the way he smelled…his scent was completely addicting.

Deciding the hell with it, she plopped her butt down in front of the next slot machine they passed by. She put in some credits and started playing, her gaze intent on the rolling screen. He didn’t say a word as she hit the max button. Could she win a huge jackpot quick? Doubtful, she told herself as she hit the button again. And again.

“I’m losing all of your money,” she grumbled, hitting the button yet again.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.” He grabbed hold of her and turned her to him, pressing his mouth to hers briefly before letting her go. “As long as you’re having fun?”

She nodded, at a loss for words. His lips had a way of wiping her brain clean. It wasn’t normal. No guy had ever done that to her with a kiss. Ever.

“Five more minutes and we’re walking away from this machine.” He leaned in and dropped a sweet kiss on the tip of her nose. “We’ll find something else to do.”

His words were full of unspoken promises that made her shiver.

“Okay,” she murmured, reaching out blindly to hit the max button once more, her gaze still locked on Noah’s. He smiled at her, his hand curling around her neck, his other hand landing on her waist. He was going to kiss her again. She could tell by the serious glint in his gaze, the way his head descended. It didn’t matter if those guys at the table nearby were watching. She didn’t care. She desperately wanted to feel his mouth on hers…

The machine came to a clanging, noisy stop, drawing her attention, and she turned to look at it, staring at the row of red sparkly sevens across the front.

Holy. Shit.

“Sweetheart, you won.” Noah slipped his arms around her waist and leapt to his feet, taking her with him. He swung her around once, her legs dangling in the air as they both started to laugh. “You won, Nat! Look at those sevens!”

The slot machine was loud and flashing like a police car. She clung to Noah, her arms gripping around his neck as she stared at the slot machine. “Oh my God. How much did I win?”

A casino employee materialized out of nowhere, a polite smile on his face as he checked out the machine before turning to face her. “It appears you won twenty-five thousand dollars, miss.”

“What?” She gasped. No way. No freaking way did she just win that much money. “Are you serious?” she squeaked.

Noah’s arms tightened around her as he placed her on her feet. “Twenty-five G’s? Hell yeah, baby! That is fucking amazing!”

His enthusiasm made her smile. Twenty-five thousand dollars was probably nothing to Noah, but she appreciated his excitement. “This can’t be happening,” she protested, shaking her head. “I’m dreaming, right?”

She had to be. She was in Vegas all alone after being ditched by her friends, and somehow she ended up with one of the most famous rock stars. He let her gamble with his money and she won twenty-five thousand dollars.

Pure dream material. She tentatively touched her face, tempted to slap her own cheek, but she restrained herself.

Barely.

“This isn’t a dream,” Noah whispered close to her ear, just before he nuzzled her cheek. A shuddery breath left her at his intimate touch and she closed her eyes. “Savor the moment, Nat. I promised you the ultimate Vegas experience, didn’t I?”

She nodded, purposely keeping her eyes closed. What if she opened them and she discovered it really was only just a dream? She’d be so disappointed.

“And I always keep my promises,” Noah continued, his deep, rumbly voice making everything inside of her vibrate. Oh, she never wanted him to stop talking. She could listen to him for hours. For days. “Let’s go collect your winnings.”

Natalie popped her eyes open, turning to study his face. So close up, she could make out everything. The brilliant color of his gaze as they watched her. The sharp angles and planes of his starkly handsome face. His full lips and the light stubble which covered his cheeks. “But I thought you wanted to play blackjack.”

“Nah. Tonight should be all about you.” He moved closer to her, pressing his forehead against hers. “If you could do anything tonight to celebrate your big win, what would it be? What do you want, Natalie?”

You.
The word streaked across her thoughts, leaving a permanent imprint. She should tell him she wanted him. No one else, just him. He was fun. Sweet. Sexy as hell.

“I want a hot fudge sundae,” she said instead, feeling immediately like an idiot. It was her nerves and the alcohol talking. If she was more confident, she’d tell him exactly what she wanted.

But she wasn’t. So she’d have to settle for hot fudge and vanilla ice cream.

They were in one of the finest restaurants the hotel had to offer. World-renowned chefs were in the kitchen right now, slaving over their dishes, creating some of the most delicious meals known to man.

Yet Noah sat with Natalie sharing a giant hot fudge sundae. Five scoops of vanilla ice cream, a glob of hot fudge, a sprinkling of nuts and two cherries on top. They each had a spoon and were digging tentatively into the mountain of ice cream. Natalie couldn’t stop smiling and every time she licked her spoon, Noah died a little inside. He could imagine her perfect little pink tongue licking the tip of his dick and it was getting damn distracting.

“You’re letting me pay you back, right?” she asked nonchalantly after licking her spoon clean of hot fudge for what felt like the hundredth time. He knew there was nothing casual about her question no matter how much she tried to portray it as no big deal. She didn’t want to owe him anything. He liked that about her.

A lot.

“You don’t owe me a thing,” he said just as nonchalantly, hoping she’d let this go. He didn’t want her money. He gave her two thousand dollars and she’d made it last for almost two hours. He’d only wanted to cut her off because he’d been growing bored. Not with her, never with her, but hell. He didn’t want to spend the rest of the night in the high rollers room, gambling their asses off.

He wanted to take her back to his suite so they could sweat their asses off instead. Naked. In his bed.

She shoved her spoon into the ice cream and glared at him from across the table. He swore she had a smudge of chocolate in the corner of her mouth. Damn it, he wanted to lick it off, but she was too far away. “I do too. I won enough money to cover what I lost of yours. Please let me reimburse you.”

“This isn’t a business transaction,” he muttered, irritated that she kept insisting to pay him off. He knew she had enough to cover what he gave her. When she cashed out, they gave her over twenty-six thousand dollars, and part of that money was what he originally gave her. She would still walk away with most of her winnings, but she’d have to pay taxes on that amount.

Natalie pulled the spoon from the mountain of ice cream and licked off the remnants. God, he wanted that tongue of hers on him so bad it was tearing him apart. “You’re a very stubborn man.”

“And you’re a very stubborn woman.” He plucked the remaining cherry off the top of the ice cream and brought it to his lips, pausing. He’d already eaten one. “Can I have your cherry?”

She blushed, which was cute. And sexy. “You made that sound dirty.”

“I didn’t mean it to be.” He so did. “You’re the one with the dirty mind, sweetheart.”

Her blush deepened in color, her cheeks turning bright red. “No one has ever accused me of having a dirty mind before.”

He contemplated her, what she said. “Maybe it’s because you haven’t met the right man yet,” he finally told her.

She said nothing, her entire body going still, her blue eyes wide and unblinking. Did he just shock the hell out of her? He sort of hoped he did. He was in the mood to shock. Stimulate. Drive her out of her ever lovin’ mind.

All she had to do was look at him and he felt like he was going crazy with wanting her.

“Please don’t lie to me and tell me you’re the right man,” she murmured, slowly shaking her head. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep. This is just a one-night thing, right? If it’s even a thing?”

“You want it to be a thing?” He dug his spoon into the ice cream, his appetite suddenly coming at him with a vengeance. He was hungry. Starved. Not just for food but for...

Natalie.

“A one-night thing,” she said carefully, heavy emphasis on the word
one
. He was fine with that. It was all he could commit to, one night. When would he ever see her again? And she was being the typical fan girl, offering herself to him. He hated that he sounded like a smug bastard, but this happened to him all the damn time. “Though honestly, I’ve never done that sort of thing before.”

Was this some kind of line? If so, he thought he’d heard them all. “What sort of thing?” He frowned.

“A one-night thing.” She rolled her eyes. They were talking in circles. “You don’t do commitment, right? You’re a love ’em and leave ’em kind of guy. At least, that’s what I’ve read in the tabloids.”

Yeah. He was. There was no use denying it. So why did it hurt his pride to hear her say that so casually? Like her expectations were already low? And why in the hell was he offended? He was being a total jackass and needed to get over himself. “That’s my usual plan, yeah.”

“You’ve never had a girlfriend.” She shoved a spoonful of ice cream in her mouth right after she said that, looking guilty. Was she fishing for information?

Probably. They all did. More like they all wanted to be the one to change him. To turn him into a commitment type of guy.

It wasn’t in him. He couldn’t force himself to stay with one woman. None of them appealed enough for him to give up everything, his entire lifestyle, just to be with them.

“No. I don’t do girlfriends,” he said, his voice clipped. Damn it, he was losing his patience and that wasn’t good. “They’re too clingy. They always want what I can’t give them.”

She visibly flinched, and he tried not to feel bad about that, but…he did. “And what’s that?”

“Loyalty. Stability. Love.” He clamped his lips shut, not meaning to say that last word. Love didn’t exist. It never really had in his world. His dad had been a real bastard. His mother, a drunk who looked at her sons as her meal ticket out of poverty. She knew they had musical talent and decent looks, but it was their father who pushed them into a career at a young age.

Their first manager had taken advantage of them financially and ripped them off. The next manager put Noah and his brother Rick into a boy band, which released one single before they split up.

Then eventually Noah joined Rick, who was already with Wilde & Wicked…and never looked back. They sent their mom the money she needed to live—a hell of a lot, but they never complained—and reveled in their success. Never once having any sort of loving, nurturing relationship with their parents or any other family. Hell, most of the time they fought like cats and dogs.