Reckless Nights (Vegas Nights #1) Page 2

  “Is that all you’re looking for?” He stepped closer, settling his hand at the base of her spine. He curled his fingers the slightest bit in a subtle caress, and she turned to look at him, her brown eyes wide. The warmth of her skin penetrated through the thin fabric of her dress, and he wondered what exactly she was wearing beneath that dress.

  He hoped nothing. He hoped more he’d discover that for himself.

  “I’m not looking for anything,” she admitted softly, the smile she’d been holding back shining through, blinding him.

  “I like the way you think.” He waved at the bartender to get his attention and ordered two waters, then pointed toward the doors leading out to the balcony before he wrapped his arm around Reagan’s waist. “Let’s go,” he murmured.

  Chapter Two

  They’d just about made it to the doors leading to the terrace outside when she heard Natalie’s unmistakable voice coming from behind her.

  “Where do you two think you’re going?”

  Declan slowly turned, taking Reagan with him. He didn’t say a word, leaving it up to her to explain to her friend.

  “We’re going to sit outside for a little bit.” Reagan paused, not liking the way Natalie examined the both of them. Like they were strange bugs under a microscope. “Want to join us?”

  Ugh, why’d she have to go and say that?

  Declan sent her a look but then went into smooth, polite actor mode. “Yes, join us,” he offered.

  “No thanks,” Natalie retorted, resting her hands on her hips. Talk about cranky. “You two kids go have fun outside all alone.”

  “Hey.” Reagan turned her head to find Declan smiling down at her. “I’ll meet you outside, okay? Talk to your friend.”

  The moment he left them, Natalie was on her like white on rice. “What are you doing?” she whisper-hissed. “You’re going to leave the party with him?”

  “I’m not leaving the party, we’re just going outside. I’ll be right out there.” Reagan waved her hand toward the double doors Declan had just slipped through. “What’s the big deal?”

  “He could be a psycho rapist for all we know. Don’t go anywhere alone with him,” Natalie said.

  Reagan withheld her sigh. Fine, Natalie was watching out for her wellbeing, but she was also totally overreacting. “Don’t be such a buzzkill. I’m sure he’s perfectly harmless.”

  “He’s an actor. I doubt any of them are perfectly harmless. Especially ones who are down on their luck and can’t get movie roles any longer.” At Reagan’s questioning glance, Natalie shrugged. “I looked him up on Google and found out the deets.”

  “Nat,” Reagan reprimanded, curiosity eating her up inside. Yeah, she knew some details about the great downfall of Declan Carter, but she hadn’t paid much attention over the last few years. Nursing school and then her new job had kept her busy.

  “Hey, I had to know. He went on a total binge of drugs and alcohol. Lost a huge movie role. His agent dumped him. He went into rehab and sobered up,” Natalie explained.

  Nothing too far from what he told her. “He’s clean now,” she pointed out.

  “We’ll see how long that lasts. The pressures of Hollywood have to be tough. And he’s in Vegas for the weekend. This city is a hotbed of sin.”

  “You sound like an old grandma,” Reagan said with an eye-roll.

  “Sometimes I feel like an old grandma. At least I’m the voice of reason,” Natalie said.

  “I appreciate you watching out for my interests. I really do. But I think you need to go mingle and see if you can find a hot man for yourself tonight,” Reagan said as she pulled her friend into her arms and gave her a quick hug. “You look amazing. Have fun.”

  “You too,” Natalie called after Reagan as she started to walk away. “Be careful.”

  She was always careful. For once, she was going to do what she wanted and not worry—too much—about the consequences. She wasn’t going to be stupid, hence the no alcohol reasoning. Though she still couldn’t believe she’d actually told Declan the truth when he asked about her wanting only water.

  Lame. But he seemed charmed by her admission, so maybe it worked in her favor? She didn’t know how to dazzle a dazzling, gorgeous Hollywood actor. She was Plain Jane Nurse Reagan primped up in a sexy dress that wasn’t anywhere close to her normal style. Would he still like her if he saw her in her blue scrubs, no makeup on her face and her hair pulled back into a frizzy bun?

  Probably not. So she needed to cling to the fantasy and make this night worth it.

  The moment she walked out onto the terrace, the warm summer breeze hit her, heating her cooled skin. The lights of the city were spread out before her like a twinkling blanket and she stopped short, drinking in the breathtaking view. Las Vegas was huge and so incredibly bright. She’d never seen such a thing before and she was from Southern California. The cities there spread and spread, never seeming to stop.

  But they certainly weren’t this beautiful.

  “Reagan,” Declan called, drawing her attention. She turned to her right to find him sitting on an overstuffed loveseat made out of wicker, the deep red cushions plump and comfortable-looking. He waved her over and she headed toward him, her steps careful, her knees wobbling when she saw the heart-stopping smile on his face as she approached.

  “I could watch you do that all night,” he murmured as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees so he could dangle in his arms between his legs, his hands clasped together.

  “Watch me do what?” she asked, perplexed. She stopped by a glass-topped table where the two waters Declan ordered sat. But she wasn’t thirsty. She could hardly move, too entranced by the way he stared up at her.

  “Walk. You look…incredible in that dress,” he said, letting his gaze skim the entire length of her. “Join me.”

  The loveseat wasn’t very big and he was nearly sitting in the middle, so she settled down next to him, their thighs pressed together, her bare leg rubbing against the slightly coarse material of his jeans. She smiled at him as he sat up straight, his shoulder brushing against hers, and she looked away, exhaling discreetly for fear he might notice.

  He flat out overwhelmed her. She could smell him, spicy and warm with a hint of soap. His body was hot—she could feel the heat radiating off of him and pulsating through her.

  Or maybe that was just her, so crazily aroused for this man she didn’t really even know that she reacted like a woman with out of control hormones. He definitely sent everything within her zinging with just a look, just by sitting next to her.

  “It’s a beautiful view,” she said when she couldn’t seem to take him staring at her anymore. She turned to look out at the city lights once more, the breeze blowing through her hair, lifting it from her shoulders and her warm neck.

  “I agree,” he said, his voice closer than she realized, and she glanced over her shoulder, his face directly in hers, his gaze locked on her. “Gorgeous.”

  She had the distinct feeling he wasn’t talking about the view of Las Vegas. More like he was talking about…her?

  No way.

  Licking her lips, she let her gaze drop to his mouth and that full, delicious-looking lower lip. She wanted to kiss that mouth. What did he taste like? Was he a good kisser or bad? Neat or sloppy? Lots of tongue or little tongue? “Sorry I made you wait,” she said, pushing the distracting kissing thoughts out of her mind.

  “Your friend okay?” he asked, sounding concerned.

  “She’s fine. Worried about me.” Oops, she probably shouldn’t have said that.

  “My reputation precedes me,” he drawled, not sounding bothered by it at the least. But he could be. He was an actor, after all. They were skilled at hiding their real feelings. It was what they were paid to do.

  “Unfortunately, yes,” she said with a little wince. Reaching out, she settled her hand on his
arm that rested closest to her, wanting to offer reassurance. “I told her you’ve changed.”

  “You don’t know me. How could you know I’ve changed?” His expression remained neutral despite the questions he just asked. And he didn’t remove his arm from beneath her hand either. Maybe she shouldn’t have said that, but it was too late now.

  Reagan didn’t want this evening over before it even started.

  “There’s an innate calmness that radiates from you. A confidence,” she said, pausing to gauge his reaction. He tilted his head to the side, removing his arm from beneath her hand so he could slip it along the back of the couch, resting it right above her shoulders. “I sensed it from the second we were introduced. You’re very sure of yourself but not overly cocky. You seem comfortable in your own skin.”

  He raises his eyebrows. “You sensed all that, huh?”

  She shrugged, her shoulders brushing against his arm, the contact sending a scattering of tingles across her skin. “Maybe I’m wrong, but that’s the impression you left on me.”

  “That’s quite the impression.” He smiled, looking pleased with himself. “I had no idea I was that easy to read. I’d always prided myself on the mysterious air that surrounds me.”

  “Oh, you’re very mysterious. And it’s not about being easy,” she reassured him. “It’s more about my need to figure people out the second I meet them. I’m always doing that in the ER.”

  “Interesting. So you’re a detective nurse. I like that.” He smiled, his eyes sparkling. “What else can you tell me about your job at the ER?”

  She swallowed hard when he reached out and tested a wayward strand of her hair, twirling the curl around his finger and giving it the slightest tug. “What do you want to know?”

  “Everything.”

  Her hair was soft, like silk. The wind kept blowing it in his face when she first sat down, the sweet floral scent of her shampoo filling his senses, and he wanted to bury his face in it. But he restrained himself.

  Just barely.

  “Well, I work the graveyard shift, so I see plenty,” she started, a hint of nervousness underlying her words. He had a feeling he was the reason for that. Not that he minded. No, more like he scooted closer to her, their thighs pressed tight together, his fingers still in her hair.

  “I’m sure,” he murmured, letting his gaze drop to her chest. The dress dipped low, offering him a teasing glimpse of her cleavage, and he had the overwhelming urge to trace the neckline of her dress, let his finger drift across her skin.

  Would she be okay with that or would she slap his hand away?

  “Like the man who came in with the jelly jar up his…” She waved a hand, her cheeks red as she started to giggle. “Butt.”

  “No shit?” Ouch. He’d done some kinky stuff in his time, but he’d never had the urge to shove something up his ass to get his jollies off.

  She burst out laughing at his reply, and he started to chuckle too once he realized the correlation. “The poor man,” she said between laughter. “He was mortified. I believe he waited almost twenty-four hours before he finally gave up and came in.”

  “Damn. How the hell did they get it out?” He held up his hand and shook his head. “Wait a minute, don’t tell me. I don’t need to know.”

  “You don’t want to know,” she agreed, her laughter dying, though her eyes still sparkled. She had beautiful eyes, dark and expressive. “I could go on and on about the things people put in strange places. Because we only have so many orifices to put things in, if you catch my drift.”

  “I don’t think I want to catch it, but yeah, I get what you’re saying.”

  She grimaced. “I took that conversation into a weird turn.”

  “An interesting turn,” he corrected.

  “That’s a kinder way to put it.” She glanced down, kept her gaze locked on her knees as she gripped them with her hands. Her skirt fluttered in the breeze and around her hands, and he had the sudden urge to slip his hand beneath her dress, skim his fingers up her thighs…

  “Do you like your job?” he asked.

  “I love it. I like helping people. I’ve always wanted to be a nurse, ever since I was a kid.” She lifted her gaze and smiled.

  “Is it hard sometimes, though? It has to be. I’m sure you’ve seen some pretty ugly stuff.”

  “Well, yeah, of course. The ugly stuff comes along with the wonderful stuff, you know? I’ve seen violence and death and horrific car accidents involving small children. Gunshot wounds, knife wounds, crime victims. But I’ve also seen kids with bonks on their head and scratches on their arm because their cat got mad at them.” She smiled and slowly shook her head, lost in her thoughts. “A frantic grandma came in once with her granddaughter who stuffed a bead up her nose. She didn’t know what to do, how to get the bead out. She was panicking, which only made her granddaughter cry. I grabbed a pair of tweezers and plucked the bead out within seconds and that poor grandma was beside herself with how easily I took care of it. Said she felt like a big idiot.”

  “What did you tell her?” he asked, knowing it was going to be something kind. Whereas Reagan might have noticed his innate confidence, he definitely noticed her innate sweetness. Because she was sweet, she had to be, what with what she did for a living.

  “I reassured her she wasn’t an idiot. I gave her a hug. The poor woman was just beating herself up while the three-year-old was running around acting like it was no big deal.” She laughed. “It was kind of funny.”

  “Sounds like the craziest stories are the ones where they stuff something where it doesn’t belong.”

  “So true.” She turned to study him, her gaze meeting his. “I’m rambling about stuff you probably don’t care about, huh?”

  “Not true. I wanted to talk to you about working in the ER, remember? I’m going to use it for my character,” he said.

  “Yeah? When do you start filming?”

  “Next week.” Unable to help himself, he touched her. Drifted his finger along her hairline, down her temple. She remained completely still—he didn’t think she was even breathing—and he let his hand drop. The shuddering breath that left her was full of disappointment. “A six-week shoot.”

  “Where?”

  “In and around Los Angeles. My character works at a fictional hospital there.”

  “Awesome.” She offered him a tremulous smile. “Do you like being an actor?”

  “It’s all I know. Pretending to be someone else, to do things I would never do…I like it.” Sometimes. Sometimes he didn’t. But what else could he do? He’d dropped out of school before he graduated and had to get his GED. His work schedule hadn’t allowed him for a normal high school life, and no way in hell could he go off to college. His mom wouldn’t let him.

  She hadn’t allowed much of anything except work, work, work. They didn’t even talk anymore. One last major fight while he’d been high on coke and she’d been drunk off her ass had severed their relationship. He hadn’t gone back. Hadn’t said sorry, hadn’t begged for her forgiveness, nothing.

  Neither had she.

  He resented her for pushing him beyond his limits and she resented him for cutting her off. So they didn’t speak, the two of them too stubborn to give in first.

  Stupid.

  “Did you miss it? When you went…” Her voice trailed off.

  “To rehab? Yeah.” At first he missed the fame and what came with it. Women, booze and drugs. His life had become an endless party, and then it was gone. Felt like he blinked and he was in rehab, going through withdrawals, cranky as shit and feeling like he was at the end of his rope. “Once I got sober and my head on straight, I realized I didn’t want to give acting up. That I’d have to change the way I think and what I did in order to get what I want.”

  A soft smile curled her pretty lips. And they were definitely pretty. Lush and full and the perfect
shade of pink. Her lipgloss had worn off long ago, and he had the urge to press his lips to hers. See if her mouth turned red and swollen after a few minutes of intense kissing.

  “Sounds like you’re on the right track, then,” she said.

  “I feel like I’m on the right track. Now I just need to make sure and not fuck it up.”

  Her eyes widened the slightest bit at his use of the word “fuck”, but otherwise she didn’t say a thing. She didn’t need to. Any other words uttered could potentially destroy the mood and that was the last thing he wanted.

  Leaning in, he traced his fingers along the edge of her jaw, smoothed his thumb down the front of her chin. She parted her lips when his fingers made contact with her skin, her breath stuttering when he brushed his thumb against her plump lower lip. She tilted her head up as his descended, their mouths meeting at the perfect moment.

  If this was a movie, the music would’ve swelled in the background and the camera would’ve panned out on the kissing couple. But this wasn’t a movie. This was his life.

  And he planned on enjoying every second of it.

  Chapter Three

  Declan cupped Reagan’s cheek to steady her as he drank from her lips, delving his tongue into her mouth to caress hers. A little whimper escaped her and she practically fell into him, her hands bracing against his chest to steady herself, slender fingers curling into his shirt.

  She tasted sweet, like wine and mint and honey. She kept edging closer with every sweep of their tongues, until she was practically falling on top of him, and he reached for her, wrapping his arms around her waist so she could settle in his lap, right over his burgeoning erection.

  Her hands sank into his hair and she tugged, making him wince. Making him groan. The kiss grew even hotter, wetter, deeper, and he finally broke away from her first. To catch his breath, gather his thoughts, remind himself they were in a public place and anyone could come upon them.

  “Wow.” She uttered that understatement of the year at the same time she pressed her face against his neck, her lips causing a path of fire wherever they touched.