And then I wait for it.
Katie is walking slowly through the space, touching everything she comes across. The fabrics and wood of the furnishings, the drapes, even the glass of the windows that showcase the Strip.
But she’s eerily silent, and I’m terrified of the explosion to come.
Finally, she walks over to the bedroom, and like a good little boy who is hoping for more kisses, I follow her in. Her bright blue eyes take in the entire room, and then she walks into the closet.
There is a black garment bag hanging inside along with a pair of shoes and a purse.
She doesn’t touch them, just stares, blinking a lot, and I know I’m in trouble now.
“I don’t know whether to yell at you or kiss you.”
“If I get a choice, I opt for kissing,” I say, lingering in the door of the closet, my hands up on the wood frame above my head.
“Why did you do all this?” She turns to face me, her hand waving to the stuff I bought and then over to the large suite.
“Because I wanted to,” I say simply. I really don’t have much more of an explanation that I am willing to give her. “I want to take you out for dinner tonight, and then after that, I want to go dancing with you again. The dress and the shoes are for that. If you don’t like them, we can go to any of the shops and pick something else out.”
“It’s fucking Valentino, Ryan!” Now she’s yelling. “You bought me a black sequin mini dress, and it is Valentino. The shoes are Louboutin. The purse is Prada.” I won’t even mention the earrings I got her. I think it might be too much at this moment. “I’m sure I’ll fucking like them, Ryan. What the hell on earth were you thinking? All of this has to cost ten thousand dollars, at least.” Thirteen, but I won’t go there either. “Then there’s the massive penthouse at the motherfucking Four Seasons we are staying in for the next two nights and whatever other ‘arrangements’ you have made,” she puts air quotes around the word the concierge used.
“Do you want to leave?”
I’m smiling. I shouldn’t be smiling, but I can’t help it.
She is too damn adorable when she’s angry, and since I’ve never really seen her like this, I’m enjoying the show far too much for my own safety.
She sighs, taking a deep breath and then walks over to me slowly, her hands reaching up to touch my chest. Eyes boring into mine. “I would have been happy in a regular room in a regular hotel. I would have been happy sleeping with you in my car.”
“I know,” I smile even bigger because she means it. “Please don’t be angry with me. I really want this to be special. Memorable.”
She shakes her head like I don’t get it. “Everything with you is memorable.”
Damn. She always says the most perfect things. I lean down and kiss her, because I absolutely have to.
“Are you okay with this? I can return the dress and shoes and bag.”
“I’m okay with this.” Her fingers glide through my beard and I’ve never felt a sensation like it before. “Have you always had a beard?” she asks, and I love how she just changed the topic like that.
“No. I grew it after Francesca because she hated beards,” I grin. “Do you not like it?”
“I do like it. I just can’t figure out what your face would look like without it.”
I laugh, leaning down to kiss her again. “Do you want me to shave it so you can see?”
She bites her lip and tilts her head, like she is giving this some thought. “No,” she shakes her head. “Not now. Maybe someday.” I like the way she says that, but don’t comment. “So what’s the plan for today, since you seem to be full of them suddenly?”
“We could open the champagne that’s chilling, and drink it in bed while we kiss a lot.” She’s smiling her sweet smile at me.
“You don’t want to go get lunch on the Strip and walk around?”
“If I get a choice, I’m always going to go for the kissing, Katie. You should have figured that out by now.”
“You are sort of a glutton for punishment, aren’t you?”
“A masochist to the core,” I grin. “But you do know that there are other things we can do that aren’t technically considered sex.”
She smiles seductively with widened eyes. “Oh, and what would those be?”
Damn, she’s playing with me now. “I’m just saying that there are other places I can kiss if we’re sticking to this kissing-only rule.”
“I see. Like my neck?”
“That’s definitely one place, but not the one I was thinking of.”
“Hmm.” She places both hands on my shoulders, pulling me down to her so that she can bring her mouth to my ear. “As much as I think I would enjoy you kissing other places,” her tongue and teeth graze along the shell of my ear, making me shudder. “For now, I think we should stay above the clavicle.”
“You really are trying to kill me,” I say with certainty. All I can think about right now is ripping her clothes off and doing a hundred dirty things to her.
“Maybe,” she smiles sweetly, “but not until we feed me. After that, I’m all for killing you for a while.”
I have never seen such a small woman eat as much as she does. She’s constantly packing in the food, and I think it is amazingly sexy. Francesca never ate anything more than a sprig of lettuce once a day. It was boring as hell to go out to eat with her, and the other women before and after her? Well, let’s just say we skipped over meal time in favor of other ventures.
Katie is eating the hell out of a burger right now, and enjoying every bite. We did end up going out—much to my dismay—and after this, she wants to go walk around the Strip.
I can’t really say no to her.
Tomorrow I figure we’ll hit up the pool or the spa, but today we can go exploring.
“I can’t get over how they hand out flyers for hookers.” She really can’t. That’s probably the third time she has said that. “We should totally get you one.”
I practically choke on my fry. “Um. I’m not really a prostitute kind of guy.”
“No. I guess if you wanted to get laid, you could just go out and meet someone.” Shit. I wonder if she knows about New Orleans. She wipes her mouth with her napkin and then looks up at me through her dark lashes. “I would understand, you know.”
“Understand what, sweetheart?” She can’t be suggesting what I think she is.
“If you wanted to go out and meet someone who could give you what you want.”
I reach over and take her hand. “I don’t want another woman, Katie,” I tell her hoping to convey my sincerity. “I want you. Even if it is just the killer kisses.”
She smiles softly, nodding her head, seemingly liking my answer. “I’m kind of crushing on you, Ryan Grant. Maybe even a lot.”
I lean forward and kiss her sweet lips, wondering how in the hell I’m ever going to be able to let her go when these two weeks are up.
We end up spending hours walking up and down the Strip seeing the crazy bullshit that accompanies it. Rollercoasters, giant candy stores, novelty and touristy shops.
Everything is in freaking neon.