What Happens in Vegas…. Kimberly Lang
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Название: What Happens in Vegas…
Автор: Kimberly Lang
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Короткие любовные романы
Серия: Mills & Boon Modern Heat
isbn: 9781408918227
isbn:
She pressed a kiss on his chest and he responded by rolling her to her back and settling his body between her legs. Evie looked adorably mussed—hair tangled from his hands, mouth slightly swollen—and sexy as hell. He rested his chin on her chest, enjoying the silky feel of her skin as she toyed with his hair.
Evie ran her thumb over his eyebrow, and he knew what was coming next. “How’d you get this scar?”
“Bar fight.”
She laughed, causing her body to move under his in a way guaranteed to get his attention. “No, seriously.”
“I am serious. A guy swung a bottle, and I got this.”
“Oh, my gosh, I’ve never met anyone who’s even witnessed a bar fight, much less been in one.” She looked at him oddly. “Who started it? Was it over a girl? Like last night at The Zoo?”
“I wasn’t in the fight, Evie, I was trying to break it up.” Understanding crossed her face, and she nodded. “It was part of my job—breaking up fights, that is. I was working at this sleazy joint when I was in high school—”
Evie’s eyes went wide. “High school? Isn’t that a little bit illegal?”
“Maybe. But I needed a job and Henry—the owner—needed a bar back and someone to help break up fights.”
“The fights were a regular occurrence?”
“I told you, testosterone and alcohol are a dangerous mix.”
She grinned. “What about the pretty girl?”
“Not always necessary—especially in sleazy joints.”
“Were you this big in high school?” She ran her hands over his shoulders as she asked, and the openly appreciative look on her face caused his body to harden again.
“About.”
Evie’s hands were now on his arms, tracing his biceps. “Linebacker for the football team?”
He could have been, had he not had to work. “Nope.”
“Let me guess, between your size and your scowl, you’re good at breaking up bar fights.”
To the best of his knowledge, he hadn’t scowled since Evie landed in his arms last night. That had to be a world record—but Evie didn’t know that. “What makes you think I scowl?”
She ran a finger across his forehead. “This crease here. Definitely caused by scowling.” Evie trailed her finger down over his cheek and to his lips. “Who do you scowl at now?”
“Drunks in bars. Such is the hospitality industry in Las Vegas.” He captured her finger between his lips and sucked gently. Under his chin, he felt her heartbeat accelerate.
“So that’s how you know the owner of this place—and everyone else.” She smirked. “Well, you certainly are hospitable.”
He nipped at her finger, causing her to jump. He pushed himself up, wedging his hips firmly between hers, and caught her gasp in his mouth.
Evie’s hands slid up his back as her tongue slipped inside his mouth to torment him. She echoed his groan as his hands tangled in her hair, and her legs wrapped around his waist.
Faintly, he heard her phone ring again.
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