I rolled my eyes. “Adorably pathetic, you mean?”
He grinned but said nothing. I watched him shake his head a bit, fascinated at how several locks of his hair showered droplets of water on his broad shoulders. It made me want to lick every drop until he was dry and dripping for another reason.
I closed my eyes. You are such a bad girl, Yanna.
When I opened my eyes, he was smiling at me, “Yanna, hang on to me so we can go further?”
Blinking rapidly at what he was suggesting, I stammered, “I…I…”
“Come on, it will be fun.” And then he was slowly pulling me away from the edges. I thought he meant I should ride piggyback style while he floated for us both, but apparently he had something else in mind – something that had me aroused again in seconds.
Constantijin took me in his arms, arranging my legs around his waist.
In my mind, I heard my imaginary version of George chortling. What happens in Vegas – stays in Vegas.
This time, I totally agreed with him.
Constantijin gazed at me challengingly, as if waiting for me to protest. When I put my arms around him instead, moving close so that my br**sts brushed against his chest, he sucked his breath in shock.
The look in his eyes was pure heat, and I wrapped my legs around him more tightly. It made me shift against him, and his c**k rose against me, demanding entrance past the tiny blue triangle that served as my bikini bottom.
“You’re so close to being f**ked,” he whispered.
“Am I?” I whispered back, drunk in the heady sensations that his body, his touch – his very presence evoked. My voice actually sounded a bit slurred when I spoke. Oh, yes, I was so drunk – intoxicated with the passion that never failed to erupt between us.
I wriggled my h*ps under the water, biting my lip when I got what I wanted, his c**k practically pushing against my core.
His eyes widened, and his warning came out unsteady when he spoke, his fingers digging hard in the softness of my butt. “Yanna. Stop playing with fire.”
So, so drunk, I thought, still caught in a sensual haze of his doing – and mine. There was no need for wine. I just had to look at Constantijin’s nearly na**d form – be overexposed to it for more than five minutes, and I was totally undone.
Just this one night, I promised to myself. Surely in this century my unknown Mr. Right wouldn’t care that someone else had taken my virginity? If he did, then he wasn’t Mr. Right, after all.
Constantijin’s gaze was trained on my br**sts, which bobbed in the water every time I moved.
Giggling, I bent lower towards Constantijin, wanting him to see more.
Oh, God, I was so, so drunk.
His face darkened with desire, his fingers cupping the undersides of my butt as if in reflex. “Yanna, don’t.”
“Don’t what?” I fluttered my lashes at him.
His eyes narrowed. “Don’t start something you can’t – won’t - finish.”
I dropped the proverbial penny. “Who says I won’t?”
Constantijin had hauled both of us out of the pool in seconds and I found myself being literally carried away.
“Constantijin,” I gasped, totally not drunk anymore as I could feel everyone around us gaping. Someone – George probably – even whistled.
He didn’t answer, striding purposefully toward the nearest elevator. It opened almost on cue when we reached its doors, and he stepped inside, still carrying me in his arms. Constantijin didn’t seem to notice the increasing number of wide-eyed looks going our way but I did.
“Let me down,” I hissed, trying to struggle out of his hold without being too obvious about it. My heart beat madly all the while, an instinctive response to the deep and burning passion that Constantijin was visibly struggling to hold in check, his body positively vibrating with sexual tension.
“Stop moving or I swear I’ll take you right here,” he gritted between clenched teeth.
I stilled.
“Do you know,” he asked in a guttural voice that made his words almost incomprehensible, “how much I’ve been thinking of you – how I can’t get to work the moment I let my mind be completely consumed of thoughts of your hot little body?”
I was so, so wet by the time he finished speaking.
One part of me questioned what I was doing. What the hell did true love have to do with all this? But the other part of me was rejoicing in my decision, of finally being free from all the inhibitions and just being able to indulge.
Did Vegas do this to me – get rid of my inhibitions all at once so I could finally know what it was like to have sex with Constantijin? Or was it that my subconscious had only been waiting for a scapegoat, and Vegas was exactly that – a reason to excuse the inexcusable?
In the end, it didn’t matter.
I wanted him. He wanted me.
Constantijin took me to his room, which was – unsurprisingly – the hotel’s penthouse suite. But I didn’t really have time to look around, not when Constantijin was kissing me wildly the moment we entered his room.
His kiss sent my head reeling again, so much that I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, and totally hadn’t a clue about what I should do. “Wait,” I gasped against his mouth, close to panicking.
“Relax,” he muttered as his mouth descended, leaving little kisses on my neck as he did. “Let me take care of everything.”
And then the phone in his room rang. It was hard to ignore, but both of us did our best. It let out a loud beep, followed by a familiar tone that told me the call had been transferred to his voice box.
“Baby, it’s me, Selena. I heard you were in Vegas? I am, too. I’m na**d and hot---”
Buzz kill was the polite word for it as Constantijin sprang from me, cursing in Dutch – or at least I thought it sounded like cuss words – and stalking towards the phone. He tore it out of its sockets and threw it on the cushion. One part of me was taken aback by the rage in his actions, but another part of me was coldly indifferent to it.
Too freaking late, my Dutch playboy billionaire.
Just too freaking late.
He turned to me, hand outstretched. “Yanna---”
I avoided his touch.
His eyes darkened. “Don’t. You know you can’t blame me for her call. I hadn’t had sex with another woman since I met you.”
I hugged myself hard. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It f**king matters, and you know it!”
He was shouting. Wasn’t I supposed to be the one shouting here? “We’re just not a good thing together,” I mumbled. Confusion, pain, and anger blended into a pit of darkness inside me, drowning my heart, and making my body feel numb.