High Stakes (The Kingdom Book 2) (19 page)

“Well, you are a pain in the butt. But, I’ll keep ahold of you, for now.” He winks, and I know he’s messing around. “What would you like to do this evening?” he asks, his eyes burning into mine. The subtle shift in his hips tells me what he has in mind, and I feel ripples of anticipation run from my head to my toes. Every time with him is different. Every time I think it can’t get any better than the last, and every time, it does.

I decide to play with him a little. “How about we grab something to eat, and we play a board game. Or cards, you could teach me how to play blackjack better?” I say with a sweet innocence to my voice.

“You wanna play a game?” he raises his brows, and I giggle and nod. “Sure thing, Stunner. You go freshen up. I need to make a few calls, then I’m all yours.”

“I like the sound of that,” I say, kissing him on the cheek and sidestepping him to go to the bedroom. He grabs my arm at the last minute and pulls me back to him. His lips meet mine, fast and firm and I actually feel my legs weaken. He pulls away just as fast as he pulled me in, leaving me breathless, and wanting him even more than I did before.

“Now, you can go.” He smirks, and it takes me a second to get moving again. He slaps my ass as I walk off and I yelp. It doesn’t hurt, in fact the small sting it leaves is more of a delicious tingle, which makes me smile wider, and I shake my head at the way he can turn my mind to mush.

The shower feels wonderful. After a long day at the boutique, my feet are killing me from being squeezed into high, pointy heels all day. My calves ache and my head is tense. The hot water goes some way to making me feel more relaxed, and the thought of the evening ahead, lazing with Denham helps immensely. Although I wasn’t happy initially about being followed around by security, it now puts me at ease to know that we can cocoon ourselves safely up here. The door is locked, there’s no one but Denham and I, and this is fast becoming my favorite way to have things.

I take my time in the shower, shaving everywhere, and making sure every part of my body is buffed and cleansed. Then I hop out, dry off, and take time to moisturize my skin, and comb my hair through. I don’t bother drying it; I just clip the soft damp curls to the side, out of the way.

When I come out of the bedroom, Denham is nowhere to be seen, so I call out.

“Denham?”

I walk through the lounge and he appears in the doorway of the balcony, with a bottle of beer in his hand. In the time it’s taken me to shower and preen, he’s changed out of his suit pants and shirt, and into loose fitting gym shorts. That’s it. No top. No shoes. It’s not like I’ve never seen his body. In fact, I’ve touched every inch of it. But, every time I see him looking casual like this, it makes me appreciate his fine form.

“Okay?” he asks with a knowing look on his handsome face.

I grin. “Yes.”

He holds out an upturned palm, and I cross the room, placing my hand in his.

“Come with me,” he orders softly.

He leads me out of the lounge, across the balcony, and stops at a door that I hadn’t noticed before. I frown when he opens it out toward us and gestures with his hand, directing me to go first.

I climb the stairwell, not knowing where I’m going to end up, but trusting him all the same. I didn’t even know we could get any higher than the penthouses, and as I push open the door at the top of the staircase, I realize why. We’re now on the rooftop.

A secluded rooftop, lit with twinkling fairy lights around the perimeter.

It’s so pretty up here, and as I walk slowly across the open space, I take in the amazing three hundred and sixty degree view. It’s breathtaking.

“I wanted to take you for a picnic.” Denham’s warm breath tickles the back of my neck as he comes up behind me, and encircles my waist with his arms. “But, you know … circumstances and all that.” I feel him shrug, and then rest his head against mine.

“This is perfect. Just perfect,” I whisper. I can’t think of a better way to spend the evening.

Denham takes my hand, and seats us right in the middle of the roof, where there is a scattering of giant plush pillows and bean bags. Soft music by Gorgon City floats around us, being blown into the Las Vegas night’s sky by the gentle breeze. In the center of the seating is a low table, it has tealight candles placed in the middle, and delicious picnic food laid out.

“Oh my god. You have melted chocolate and fresh fruit!” I exclaim, my stomach rumbling as if to prove how hungry I am.

Denham pours me a glass of Prosecco and sits next to me. He passes me the glass but doesn’t let go. I tug gently but he just looks at me and smiles, raising his eyebrow slightly. He tugs back at my arm, and keeps pulling until the glass is the only thing left between us, and our lips are just a breath away. His eyes roam over my face, lingering on my lips, and I feel them part in response to his exploration. He moves in just a fraction closer until his nose is touching mine, and his breaths prickle my senses. He grins before letting his tongue slowly trail my lower lip. I can’t help the whimper that leaves my mouth.

I’m consumed.

Consumed by him.

Consumed by us.

And, for the first time in my life there is a greater goal than just staying alive. There’s more to life than just living and breathing. He’s made me feel. From top to bottom. Inside out. I feel every look he gives me, and it’s just as powerful as each touch he graces my body with.

I realize that he’s pulled away, and I open my eyes to find him looking at me with a sexy as hell smirk. He holds up the glass, and I take it with the hope that he’s going to do the same things as before but he doesn’t. He places the glass in my hand and reaches for a bowl of olives, offering them in my direction, before popping one in his mouth.

“You’re joking, right?” I say, screwing my face up.

He laughs. “What? You don’t like olives?” He feigns shock, acting like it’s a criminal offence.

“They are the food of the Devil,” I state.

“Just like mushrooms?” he questions.

“Yes. Mushrooms and olives definitely come from the Devil.”

“So you’ll happily drink a Dirty Martini, but you won’t eat an olive …”

“Correct. A Dirty Martini has alcohol in it.”

“You’re crazy.” He laughs, “You do know that you have to eat at least ten olives before you like them?”

“Ten! Why would you eat ten mouthfuls of something you don’t like?”

He chuckles, “Does that mean you won’t kiss me if I’ve eaten olives?” He places the bowl back on the table, and I shake my head gently.

“No, I’ll still kiss you.” I can’t think of anything that would make me not want to kiss him.

“Good. I guess there’s a lot we don’t know about each other, huh?” he muses.

“Yeah, I guess … What do you want to know?”

He reaches forward and dips a strawberry into the melted chocolate, half coating it, and twirling to avoid leaving a trail of chocolate across the table. He cups a hand under my chin and prompts me to open my mouth.

I bite down on the plump strawberry, and the juice runs down my chin. My taste buds go into overdrive. The strawberry is perfectly sweet. The chocolate, a wonderful compliment, and I forget what we were talking about.

“Oh my god, that is heaven,” I moan around the mouthful of deliciousness. “I’m sorry,” I giggle. “Carry on. What did you want to know?” I say, before grabbing a napkin and wiping my mouth.

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Just stuff. Everything and anything,” he says pensively, and I wonder where my bold man went.

I take his chin in my thumb and forefinger, and tilt his head up to look at me. “Hey,” I say softly, reassuring him with a smile. “You can ask me anything you like, anything at all.”

“It’s just little stuff, ya know? I mean, I’ve seen every beautiful inch of your body.” The glint in his eye shows exactly where he’s at his boldest, then his voice drops to a whisper, “And now I want to know about everything in your mind. The thought of another man near your body makes me want to kill someone, but thinking that another man might know your mind better than I do, well, it just makes me feel …”

“Denham …” I take his hand in mine and raise it to my lips, kissing each of his fingers in turn.

“I don’t think I’ve ever let anyone see the real me. I’ve always been too wary to let anyone in. But from the very first time we met, I couldn’t show you anything less. You make me want to discover things about me that even I don’t know about yet.”

His hand stretches around the nape of my neck and he pulls me to him. His lips meet mine. His tongue searches out every last taste of strawberries and chocolate, and he groans in appreciation.

“You need to eat,” he murmurs against my lips.

“Can’t I just eat you?” I ask, then my eyes go wide and I realize just what I said. “Um, I didn’t mean it like that. You know what I meant.” I don’t know why I’m stumbling over my words, but it came out so unexpectedly, and I wasn’t really prepared for it.

“Hey, I’m up for that, Stunner. But first, I think you need to actually eat some food. Then I plan on devouring you.” He winks and starts to eat. I relax, although I still feel a little embarrassed at my slip up, but the look in his eyes actually makes it worthwhile.

“So, I know you don’t like mushrooms, snails … or olives. What’s your favorite food? I mean, the food you would ask for as a last supper?”

“Hmmm, let me think.” I tap a finger to my chin, musing over my answer. “Just one?”

“Yup. Just one.”

“Dammit, that’s a tough one. Okay it’s gotta be … No wait … Ummm.”

“It’s really that hard to choose?” he asks, covering something pink and squishy in chocolate and breaking my train of thought.

“Oh my god, is that a marshmallow?”

“Yup.”

“Can I please have one?”

“Of course, but not until you’ve answered my question.”

“What was the question? All I can think about are chocolate covered marshmallows.”
And your lips stained with chocolate, kissing me … everywhere.

“Ari, seriously? Here,” he says, dipping a marshmallow and placing it in my mouth. “Happy?”

“Very,” I answer, smacking my lips together and groaning appreciatively. “Okay, my favorite food has to be chocolate.”

“That’s because you just ate some!”

“No, it was one of my first thoughts actually.”

“You’re so easily distracted,” he jokes.

I shrug. “I know.”

“So, you wanted to play a game. How about ‘This or that’?”

I scrunch my nose up, and look puzzled. “Never heard of it before.”

“Well, then I have lots to teach you.” He winks. “I give you two options, you have to pick the one that you like the best. But, you have to answer fast to give the most honest answer, okay?”

“Sure.”

“Let’s start easy. Cats or Dogs?”

“Dogs,” I say without hesitation. I always wanted a dog and never had the chance to own one.

“Good choice. I’m a dog person, too,” he says nodding in agreement.

Of course, I already knew this from the story his mom told me.

“Okay, you go …”

“Ooookay,” I say, trying to think of something I want to know about him. “Ooh, I know. Snow or sea?”

“Sea. Without a doubt. I love the sound the water makes as it brushes the sand up and down the shore. It’s so peaceful. Although I do love to ski. Have you ever tried?”

“No, it’s not something that’s ever interested me. I like to be warm.”

“I’ll take you skiing one day, Stunner. You’d love it. And don’t worry, you’d be warm enough in a little log cabin in the snowy hills. I’d just have to lay you on a fur rug, in front of a fire to make sure you don’t get cold.”

“Oh,” I say, looking directly at him but picturing nothing other than us, and that fur rug he just placed in my head.

“My turn,” he continues as if he hadn’t just painted a delicious picture that I want to be in, right now. “Pepsi or Coke?”

“Pepsi, diet. Spring or fall?” I fire back at him.

“Spring,” he replies eagerly, turning his body to fully face me “Tattoos or piercings?”

“Tattoos … I think. I’ve never really been inclined to have either. Motorcycle or sports car?”

“Car. Love or money?”

“Love.” The answer comes fast because it’s that easy. “Hugs or kisses?” I ask as he moves in closer to me.

“Both, with you. Slow or fast, Ari?” His voice has dropped to a husky whisper, and I don’t know what his question is referring to but I answer anyway, assuming the question is referring to us.

“Slow. Leather or lace?” I murmur against his cheek that is now pressed to mine, his breath tickling my ear.

“Lace. And heels. You should always wear heels too.”

“You’re deviating from the question …”

“What was the question?” he asks before kissing softly along my jawline. I tilt my head skyward, taking in the glow across the night’s sky before my eyes flutter shut, and I drown in the sensations of his lips on my body.

“I don’t know,” I answer quietly.

“You want me to go slow, Ari?”