"The night’s not over, yet," he said, wiping his forehead with a hand. "But I think we should both go cool down—how about it?" He nodded toward the cantilevered pool.

I frowned, wishing I’d been better prepared. "I’d go in, but I didn’t bring a swimsuit."

He moved to the side of the bed and stood up, then looked down at me with his scarred eyebrow arched. "Who said anything about swimsuits?" he asked, giving me a frank, appraising stare. "I want you just the way you are."

The way he said it made my heart skip a beat but the pool hung thirty stories above the Strip, well over the edge of the hotel. "Won’t people be able to see us?"

"That’s the wrong question in Vegas, Riley," he said. "The real question is—will anyone care?"

I couldn’t resist looking him over as he stood there, next to the bed. His bedhead made him even sexier, and his erection was still as hard and thick as when I’d first noticed it.

"Come over here," he said, beckoning me with his eyes. "We’re not letting that pool go to waste."

I got off the bed and approached him, my body still aching from his thrusts. Tilting my head up, I kissed his lips, softly at first, then slipped my tongue past them.

His mouth moved against mine, hungrily sucking at my tongue, and I felt his hands move, cupping my upper thighs. Effortlessly, he lifted me from the floor, and I found myself wrapping my legs around him instinctively.

"Perfect," he said, carrying me toward the pool with my legs tangled around his waist. With each step, he kissed, trailing little lines with his mouth down my shoulders and neck as I clung with arms and legs around his strong torso.

We passed through the door. The night air was cool and dry as Jax stepped into the moonlit water. The view was breathtaking: all the lights of the Las Vegas Strip, and the city sprawling out gaudily for miles in every direction, just beyond the blue, transparent pool edge. The water flowed up around Jax’s legs, then his thighs, and then his ass.

As he stepped further in, I felt the warm water flowing around us, the currents rippling gently against my skin. Then, like a burst of light, I felt Jax’s c**k nestling against my cleft, slowly easing its way inside me.

He looked at me, an unasked question in his eyes.

"Yes," I breathed. "Oh, Jax, please, yes."

The next time I screamed, it was into the Las Vegas night sky.

Chapter Eighteen

ALONG FOR THE RIDE

I jolted awake the following morning to an image of my own body floating above me, splayed naked over silk sheets. For a second, I thought I’d really died from an orgasm and my departing spirit was now looking down at my corpse. But then I realized I was looking into a gigantic mirror mounted above the bed, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

Propping myself up on my elbows, I saw Jax sliding on a pair of black jeans at the foot of the huge hotel bed. I fell back into the soft bed as everything from last night suddenly came flooding back to me, leaving me feeling satisfied and happy.

I stretched out and watched my naked, well-fucked body twist in the mirror above the bed. Sitting up, I tried taming my crazy bed hair as he watched me with a warm smile.

"You don’t have to fix your hair. I like it all wild like that." Jax said, giving me a sexy smirk. "So we've all got the day off today. I’m guessing the rest of the band's probably off gambling away their per diem." He sat down on the edge of the bed and slid on his black boots.

I pouted prettily. "You're leaving already?"

"I've got a surprise for you." He stood up and pulled a black tank top over his head, covering the tight contours of his muscular torso, but leaving his tattooed sleeves exposed.

I perked up. "Another surprise? What is it?"

"You know better than to ask by now." His smile widened and he winked at me. "I had the hotel bring up some clean clothes for you. They’re on the dresser next to some breakfast. Sorry I can’t enjoy breakfast with you now, but I need to go downstairs. Meet me in front of the hotel in twenty minutes. Sound good?"

"You’re killing me with these surprises." I playfully tossed a big fluffy pillow at him.

He caught it with one hand and looked at me with a palpable hunger in his eyes. "And you’re killing me just lying there in bed. I’m a second away from ripping off my clothes and jumping back in with you."

"I wouldn’t mind that," I said, my pulse quickening, "but I guess it wouldn’t be a surprise."

"Exactly." He leaned over the bed and kissed me softly on the forehead before disappearing out the door.

His kiss was comforting, but the absurdly large bedroom suddenly felt a little emptier. I showered and slipped on the blue jeans and breezy checkered shirt Jax had laid out for me. The jeans fit perfectly and despite the top being a tad too tight I was surprised by how well he knew what kind of clothing to have the hotel send up. After munching on some fruit and a bagel from one of the many left-over trays, I headed downstairs to wait for Jax.

As I walked through the hotel’s lobby, the noise was nowhere near as loud as I remembered it last night when I had been blindfolded.

Last night had been so surreal. I still couldn’t believe I’d been on stage during the Hitchcock’s show. And then my night in the suite with Jax was . . . more than magical.

Wandering through a maze of flashing slot machines, I idly wondered what he had in store for me today. The past few days had left me buzzing with excitement—all of it was like nothing I'd ever experienced before. It wasn’t just the rock star lifestyle he was treating me to, either.

Jax’s string of pleasant surprises was completely new to me. The only kinds of surprises I ever received from guys in the past were the bad kind—the collect call at 3:00 A.M. begging me to bail him out of jail., the break-up that comes without any warning, the accidental text that was meant for the other girl.

With Jax, things seemed different. Even though I still had some lingering concerns where things were headed with us, I could tell it was going to be a wild ride, one that I didn’t think I could get off of even if I wanted to.

Outside the hotel, as I eagerly awaited Jax’s arrival beneath the sweltering afternoon sun, a jet-black motorcycle came rumbling down the street. The biker pulled into the hotel’s curved driveway riding what looked to be a classic bike.

I’d had fantasies of being a badass biker chick, but owning a vehicle in Manhattan—even something as compact as a motorcycle—was a hassle I could do without. I enviously eyed its rider in his dark cowboy hat, wishing it was me on the bike instead of him.

When he parked, I squinted through my sunglasses and realized that it was Jax. Of course. It wasn’t entirely surprising that a bad boy like him would ride a motorcycle.

"I didn't know you rode a motorcycle," I said excitedly, as I hurried over to the thrumming bike. I lifted my sunglasses to get a better look at him and I bit my bottom lip. "Or that you'd look so hot doing it."

"Must be this desert heat." Jax smiled and tipped his hat to me, the sun casting a shadow from the brim across his chiseled features.

"A cowboy hat, huh?"

"Like it?"

"Hmmm . . . " I said, tapping my chin and taking my time with it. "It’s cute but I’m not sure if it fits with your usual style."