Fine...I just can't live without writing this book....😅

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Roman "Our fucking desire."

The neon lights of Las Vegas blurred into a kaleidoscope of color as I strode through the bustling crowds, crossing the streets to get to the hotel where Lyn and I had been staying for a week. The vibrant chaos of the city pulsed around me like a living thing, but my thoughts were consumed by another kind of chaos—the one that had taken up residence on my shoulder, seething silently.

Melissa.

Her body sagged against my shoulder, not in defeat but in a kind of stubborn, seething rage. I could feel the tension radiating off her like desert heat, though she said nothing. I adjusted my grip, the muscles in my arms tightening, but my jaw clenching tighter.

Why the hell do I always have to choose the hardest ones?

My footsteps echoed on the sidewalk as we approached the hotel. The blinding lights of the entrance loomed ahead, promising the illusion of safety, the illusion of luxury and peace, but none of it could hide the reality. Not from us.

We have been through too much, but the battle between us is not over.

It all started out simple, or so I thought here. I wanted to do it alone, no strings attached, no distractions. The Vegas mission was dangerous enough without someone watching my back and breathing down my neck with such intensity that I swear I would have ended up seducing my wife and fucking her without even thinking about the fucking traitor.

Hell, I knew how to work alone long before she came into my life. I didn't need her then, and I sure as hell don't need her now. Or at least that's what I kept telling myself.

But then she had to show up.

I should have known better. I should have known she wouldn't let it go. The minute I saw her in the casino, eyes ablaze, jaw clenched in her stubborn manner, I knew what was coming. She'd never been good at taking orders, especially mine. Because if I didn't speak up, it wasn't her business.

She was furious when she saw that I had actually decided to do everything myself. That temper of hers, the same one that made her such a damn good operative, was also the reason why we couldn't last five minutes without butting heads.

It wasn't just about the mission or the assignments. I could feel it in the way she looked at me: anger barely concealed jealousy.

Jealousy.

That was always our problem, wasn't it? Not just her jealousy of her work, but mine, too - jealousy of her independence, the way she could walk away from everything and never look back. She acted like she didn't need anyone, and I think that's what attracted me to her in the first place. She was fierce, untouchable, and I wanted to be the one to break through that armor.

But now? Now I wasn't so sure.

Maybe that's why I wanted to do this work alone. I didn't want to give her the satisfaction of being needed. I didn't want to admit that she had touched a nerve. That she mattered.

And then another thought came to me, tormenting my mind.

Melissa had always had a way of pushing my buttons. Always knew exactly what to say or do to piss me off, to make me reconsider my actions. But this was more than that. There was something else between us—an ugly, raw tension that had been building for weeks. Neither of us wanted to give in, neither of us wanted to acknowledge what we both knew was there.

I could feel her shifting against my shoulder, her hands pushing into my back as she tried to stand. I knew she hated being carried like that. Melissa hated any sign of weakness, and her pride was probably hurting as I carried her back to the hotel like some damsel in distress.

My feet crossed the wide and spacious lobby of the hotel and I slowly let go of her, as we reached the elevator my eyes met hers and there it was again - anger, frustration and something darker underneath it all.

"You fucking bastard!" She screamed, yanking her hand out of my grip. "Do you think you can do such crazy things? This is my job in our lives!"

I didn't answer. There was no point. We both knew this fight wasn't about me leaving her out. It hadn't been that way for a long time.

The elevator doors closed, trapping us in a tight space, the air between us thick with unspoken words. The noise of the city faded, leaving just the two of us. Alone.

The silence stretched as we stood there, inches apart. I felt the heat radiating from her body, the pulse of her anger, and something else that mirrored my own.

The tension was unbearable.

I could hear her breathing, ragged, angry, challenging. And without thinking, I reached out, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her toward me. She didn't resist, not really, though her fists were clenched, ready to fight.

We were constantly arguing.

She looked at me, and for a second I saw that flicker of hesitation, of uncertainty. But then it was gone, replaced by that familiar fire. Breathing hard, Melissa pushed me against the wall of the elevator, her body pressed against mine, her eyes challenging me to make the first move.

I couldn't help myself. I wanted her, I wanted to feel that fire burning me alive, even if it was wrapped in hatred.

Our mouths met in a rough, brutal kiss, teeth clashing, lips bloody. This wasn't about love or tenderness – it was about power. Control. We fought for dominance with every touch, every bite, each of us refusing to give in.

I pushed her back against the wall, my hands gripping her hips hard enough to leave marks. Melissa growled into my mouth, biting my bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. I barely felt it.

She was the only thing I could focus on—the heat of her skin, the taste of her anger, the way her body moved against mine, both of us locked in this vicious cycle of hate and desire.

We stumbled out of the elevator as the doors opened, our bodies still entwined. Somewhere deep inside, I knew we were being reckless. That someone might see us. But I didn't care. She didn't either.

Walking into my room, my hands immediately plunge into her hair, my fingers curling, drawing her attention to me, her lips hovering over mine.

"So this is how much they hate girls like you, Melissa?" Speechless at the uncontrollable glint in my eyes and my dominant yet uncontrollable atmosphere, she simply nods but still grinns devilishly.

"So tell me... does my wife want me to touch her? "Fuck you." She hisses as my fingers tug so deliciously at her hair. "Do you?" I smirked as she. "I'll just take what's mine, Roman. You think you can do everything yourself?" She growled, pressing herself against me, her nails scratching my chest. "You think you don't need me?"

I didn't answer because I didn't know how. Because maybe she was right. Maybe that was the point.

She leaned down, her lips brushing my ear, her breath hot on my skin. "You need me more than you want to admit, Roman."

And perhaps that is how it was.

"Right. You're right." I bited her bottom lip. "Now tell me, why did you come here? "Because I was going to see if you realized that the only woman who could drive you crazy was me." My chuckle is a little dark. "It's never been a problem, and you know it. Since you became my wife, you're the only woman I've ever touched."

Wrapping one arm around her waist as my words momentarily take her breath away, I lift her up, Melissa's legs instinctively wrapping around me as my lips meet hers again in a kiss that is so unexpectedly possessive it startles us both.

I feel like I'm outside my body, it's been so long since I've been inside my wife's perfect pussy and I'm watching her, Melissa, who is usually the last one to take what she tries to hate, but tonight she finally decided to make her body and mind selfish. But then her back hits the wall with a dull thud and I'm brought back to the moment when I realize this is really happening.

"Roma..." She breathed into my lips. "You're such an asshole." My gaze turned mocking, and my nose pressed against hers. "Oh, I know, krasavica. But I'm your one and only, sexy asshole."

I kiss her again. My tongue glides over hers as my erection presses against Melissa's cunt. It's dirty and sleazy, and honestly, it's exactly what I expected from our union. But I think that's what we need to make it work. Sex, passion, and no worries in Sin City. Because we are the sins.

Although I constantly told myself that I was ready to fuck her once and forget about it, this was not true at all. But now there was something in this woman that allowed me not to think about what would happen tomorrow.

"You want me so much it's killing you." Melissa rubeds her lips against mine. "Ya vsya tvoya." Oh my God. Such simple words in my native language, but they break the chains that hold the beast inside me, or the caveman. If she keeps talking like that, she'll be the one who needs to defend herself.

"The right words for tonight, baby." I smile against her lips. Using the wall to support my wife's body, I squeeze the bottom of her thigh, kneading the flesh as if I've dreamed of touching her. Oh, and I have dreamed of it all these months. I'm not ashamed to admit that she's still the only woman on my mind.

My other hand slideds down her back, over the curve of her ass, until my fingers slipp under the hem of her panties. But I don't go any further. I tease. I savor. I breathe her fire into my lungs, feeling every part of it. Every part of me is burning with the need for me to touch her. And I mean really, with nothing between us. My fingers move lower, so depressingly close to where she needs them that Melissa whimpers into my mouth.

"You remember, that we will end up in hell anyway?" Mel nodded slowly and trembled again when I bit her earlobe. "Good. That's why now I will give you your own paradise, krasavica."

My hand is so big that I cup her ass perfectly, squeezing before sliding my fingers under her panty line again, this time touching her entire pussy as I hold back the words I said to my wife.

Her head falls back against the wall. "So wet." I moan into her throat as my mouth moves over hers. "You're ready for this, aren't you?" Because I've been ready for this since our eyes met the moment we parted. My middle finger circles clit, extracting the truth. "My pussy has wanted this since you came back." I nibble on her collarbone, smiling at her skin that she didn't say "she." She said "my pussy."

"I know." Usually arrogance affects her by showing negativity, but now? I'm pretty sure my fingers just got even wetter.

"At least now you can tell the truth." I continue. "So obedient before I fuck you, but still so mine."

*** Melissa

I didn't 't know what to focus on first. His hands gripping my hips, wanting a finger to slide inside, or the way the words before I fuck you sound off my husband's tongue.

Or that this man admited his desire so easily that I am tempted to become the same. But because he already knew me too well, he refrained from stupid and caustic words when I was speechless.

"You planned this all along, Melissa? Ever since I came back, you couldn't stop killing me and being sarcastic. You knew that one day I'd have to pin you down and shut you up, didn't you?"

He squeezed my thigh again, and the fingers of his other hand traced slow, painful circles over my clit. "And fuck, those perfect legs are going to feel so hard on my cheeks when I run my tongue right here." His finger slides inside, slowly moving deeper. An unexpected gasp escapes my lips, but I'm ready for it. I'm wet, judging by the sounds of my skin as he moves in and out of me. My whole body is on fire, waiting for him to ease the pain. He presses his lips to my ear. "Can you feel yourself tightening around my finger, krasavica? I've only just started and you're already desperate, huh?"

I swallowed the urge to punch him or spit in his face because the only thing I wanted right now was release. I liked it. He might not know it, but that's what I needed right now. From him. Someone else taking control. In the real world, I'm the boss, telling others what to do and how to behave, but here I want to turn off that part of my brain and just obey. I twist my hips as Roman enters me. "More." I order, not beg. I said more."

He kissed me, speaking directly into my mouth. "Do you want more fingers or my mouth?" "So that you shut up and do your duty as my husband until I divorce you."

He laughs, and it sounds a little sinister. "So greedy." Stroking my clit, he covers it with his thumb before circling the entrance to my ass. He circles me carefully, taking his time, warming me up before he inserts it, pushing just the tip inside. My body crawls up the wall at the foreign feeling, but I catch my breath, realizing that maybe I actually like this.

No man has ever touched me like he does, but I'm not crazy about the sensations. I especially like it when he inserts a second finger into my cunt, stroking in tandem as I fall back onto my back, writhing. "Still not done your duty?" he asks, absentmindedly rocking his hips in time with mine. He's so hard, and I just want to see it, feel it. Suck it. God, I haven't done that in so long.

"Krasavica." He presses his nose to the curve of my throat before licking down. "Answer me." I don't know how to respond. It feels like too much, but not enough. He has the best pair of hands I've ever known, and knowing they're inside me gives me insanely hot visuals, imagining him sliding in and out, but I hate it just as much.

"Or do you want all of me?" "I only need your dick." "Patience, baby. First I want you to cum, at least once. I'm going to suck the life out of you."

My head drops to the crook of my neck as he fucks me with his finger, grinding his pelvis into mine at the same time, pinning me against the wall. It's all I can do to hold onto his shoulders and enjoy the pleasure. He smells good, feels good. I'm not sure I've ever been so turned on in my life. Part of me doesn't want to come yet. This man has me way more fucked than he should have been, way more than anyone ever could have, and I'd rather not have my body betray me by telling him that in the first three minutes. But then he curls his fingers, and the way we're positioned, the backs of them brush against my front wall, and I almost fall against his hand.

"Finally." He says. "Ride my hand like my bad girl, Mal." My legs tighten around him, holding his hips down so my clit gets a little rub as he works inside me. Heat and pressure spreads low in my belly.

He curls his fingers again and I come. I come so hard it's like I haven't been touched in years, when in fact I came on his kitchen table just a few nights ago and then again in his guest room. My hands grip the fabric of his shirt and I force my way through it, every muscle in my body tensing. My heart is pounding in my chest and I'm sure he can feel it against his own, and being the experienced man he is, he presses his hips against mine, letting me apply the pressure I need. He doesn't change pace, doesn't pull away, he keeps my orgasm going and lets it last as long as possible.

"You're so fucking divine when you cum." Roman rasps, his fingers still moving to make sure I'm completely finished. Our lips brush until I can finally speak again. "You're so obedient when you make me cum."

As I begin to sink, he carefully removes his thumb, then his other fingers, adjusting my underwear as if it wasn't going to fall to the floor, and sets me back on my unsteady legs. Not wanting to give him a chance to stop it again, I drop to my knees, my palms brushing his body until they land on his thick thighs for support. And, dear God, my hands look tiny next to him. Roma looks down at me, so big and impressive.

"What are you doing?" I pray—feeling for the button on his pants, I unzip them. "What the fuck do you think I'm doing?" I snap. "It's the only way anyone can see me on my knees." His hand comes over mine to stop me. "Don't you dare. You're not kneeling when this is a night dedicated to your body."

Jesus. How does he say this in a way that sounds hot and hateful at the same time? "Some things never change, Mal." He cups my chin with his finger, tilting my head up. "And I'd like to make sure you get fucked good and proper before the night is over and you stab me again." He backs toward the bed, pulling his shirt over his head with one hand, his pants unbuttoned and low on his hips, nodding toward the mattress.

"Get up and sit down." His tone is all innuendo, with a smirk that's charming thanks to our little joke. And I'm still here on my knees. Literally and figuratively, I'm kneeling in front of this man. The guy is tall, muscular, and fit. Not too big, but clearly strong, and on top of that, he's so bad. Evil. An asshole. And completely untrustworthy. And sexy as hell in this room.

"Stop eye-fucking me and get your ass on this bed, Miss Kirillova." Shit. Standing up, I head to the mattress. "Good girl."

I fall onto the bed with an evil laugh. One second he's hot and powerful, the next he's the kind of guy you want to strip off and burn. He hasn't even been inside me yet and I think I might be a little obsessed. I sit up on the edge of the mattress. "Good girl, huh? Is that your version of praise? I'm afraid you're the wrong woman to call me that." He saunters towards me. It's the most daring my womanly soul has ever seen from this man as he makes his way to stand between my legs. "Uh-huh." He lifts my chin, meeting my mouth with his. "From the way you felt on my fingers, I could tell that your perfect pussy was insanely obedient." He finds the hem of my dress, pulling it over my head before unhooking my bra in one motion.

His eyes widen and he shakes his head in disbelief. "Jesus." I follow his platoon and swallow, but before I can cover myself, his huge hand lifts my left breast. "What does that tattoo with our last name mean?" My hands run up the length of his thighs. "That I will hate you forever. But you can check out my mouth to see what you've missed."

His neck cranes back with a pained groan. Roman stares at the ceiling for three strokes before he squats down, heels to his ass, his eyes level with mine. Like a true...not an asshole, he tucks my hair behind my ear and looks straight at my lips. His palm slides down my jaw until his thumb presses into the crease of my lips, a movement that is anything but gentlemanly as he thrusts into my mouth.

"Show me then." He says, breathing in and out slowly. His dark coffee eyes are cruel and thoughtful. In and out. In and out. And when he pushes again, I suck, swirling my tongue around the tip of his finger before running it up the length.

"Oh yes, I remember your mouth just as well." He stands up, pulling his hand away with a growl, towering over me as I sit on the edge of the bed. He barely lowers his pants and briefs, just enough to pull out his cock. It's swollen and thick, pulsing in his fist as he strokes himself once. Twice. A droplet drips from the tip, and I'm completely mesmerized by the way his thumb runs over it, rolling it around the head.

The man is 6'5" and it feels like his cock is his third leg and somehow I'd forgotten about it. "Lick your pretty lips and open your mouth." Swallowing, I do as he says, sticking my tongue out and opening my mouth wide. Placing his hand on the back of my head, he pushes himself inside. It takes me a moment to get used to him choking me a little, but eventually I come to my senses, breathing through my nose.

Engaging my tongue in the process, I touch the underside of his head. "God, you're really going to kill me, aren't you?" I stroke and suck, using my hand to cover what won't fit in my mouth. He gives me complete control, though, keeping one hand in my hair, caressing and praising me, while the other moves lower, tugging at my breast in his hand.

He latches onto my mouth, his hips moving involuntarily with the sexiest sound of desperation I've ever heard. It echoes in my ears, coaxing me as I slide the hand that was on his cock into his briefs, cupping his balls. Roman jerks, pulling away from my lips. He's even more swollen now, angry veins adorning his cock. "Oh, God. You're..." "Did I make you remember again why I'm perfect? I know."

A satisfied smirk forms on my lips as I watch him recover, tucking himself back into his pants, the exact opposite of what I want him to do. But then he exhales and looks down at me, his eyes tracing my nearly naked body. His gaze wanders, studying my breasts, my hips, my tattoo. The air ripples again as he moves closer and captures me in a selfish kiss.

He leans down to match my height and runs his lips over my bare collarbone and breast. His tongue swirls around my nipple, a moan escaping his throat before he takes it into his mouth. He sucks, my back arching, and when he repeats on the other side, I nearly fall off the edge of the bed and into his lap. "Such a liar." He grabs my ass and pulls me onto him. He sucks me harder.

"God!" I moan. "I know Latin, baby." He smiles against my skin, rocking my hips, rubbing me against his erection. "And I have to say, your tattoo doesn't lie. You really will always be mine." I ignore his words as he runs his tongue over my nipple one more time before meeting my mouth. I arch my back, sliding off the bed as his head settles between my thighs from just a few words and his warm breath dusting my skin. He bites the elastic of my panties and lets them go abruptly. Every nerve in my body is so sensitive that even the snap of the fabric sends shivers down my spine.

He stands up and pulls his pants down again, his cock stretching the fabric of his underwear but it doesn't last long. Roman takes off his boxers and throws them on the floor and I can't breathe. Again.

His thick, tattooed thighs tense, a perfect V leading to his cock, which stands tall and thick, proud. In perfect proportion to his giant frame. More pre-cum leaks from the tip, and he runs his thumb over it, lubing it up as he strokes himself.

He stands before me without the slightest shyness in his body. Pure masculinity, toned muscles, athletic build with the same tough character to make everyone around him fear and hate. He is a deadly combination, and not only my body recognizes it, but my heart as well.

A small smile plays on his lips as he approaches me, his cock poised and ready, and my mouth waters as I watch his muscles flex as he moves. I squeeze the tip of his cock. "You don't have a condom, do you?" I looked up at him. "Why do I need it if it concerns my wife?" I can feel how ready he is, how he pulses in my hand. Roman's fist covers mine, using my hand to stroke himself again, his eyes closing as he repeats the motion. "That's why I take birth control pills." "That's why you're so perfect for me."

My stomach explodes with what I guess people call butterflies. I don't know. I've never really had them. Not since I've pleasured him. He nods toward the bed, motioning for me to move away. I do, crawling back, but before he can climb onto the mattress with me, I'm on all fours, facing the headboard instead of him. His chuckle is dark and menacing.

"You think this will help you?" Yes. "You think you can stay distant because you won't look at my face while I fuck you?" The mattress dips as he climbs onto it behind me. His hips touch mine, and I hate how well he sees me, knows me, and what's going on in my messed up head.

One arm wraps around my waist, the other cups my breasts as he lifts me up, my back pressed against his chest. He lowers his lips to my ear. "It doesn't matter if you see me or not. You're going to feel every inch of my body. I'm going to be so deep that you'll be able to feel me in your fucking throat, and I can promise you, Melissa, that your body won't let you forget me. And what about killing me? That'll be your second wish.

Jesus. The hand cupping my breast slides down between my legs, stroking my clit. He moves his hips, coating the condom with my arousal as he rubs his length against me. He kisses just below my ear, nipping at the skin. "You think you can really do this?" I nod desperately, hoping to convince us both. His laugh is quiet but booming. "I hope you choke on your words when you scream my name."

And with that he settles in, the head of his cock pressing against my core. There comes a moment when our breathing synchronizes, the tension building in the hotel room. He lingers there, letting the moment build before lifting his hips and pushing inside.

"Oh shit." I scream, falling forward onto the mattress, but Roma comes with me, covering my entire body with his. He holds on so as not to crush me, but I can feel how hard he breathes, I can feel the tension coursing through him as he gives me time to adjust and doesn't move. Roman pushes my knees apart as I try to adjust to his size.

"You forgot how big my dick is, beauty." He tells me. That fucking laugh comes again. "Maybe." My words are muffled by the sheets. "I'm not even all the way in yet." I look over my shoulder at him, puzzled. "This can't be happening. "It is. I can tell." He pushes in even harder and a tear rolls down my cheek. He circles my clit and I moan. "You might have forgotten but your pussy remembers me. And only me, right?"

He continues to play with me, laying me down on the bed. "Take a deep breath." I do as I'm told, my body obeying again. Roma moves his hips, slowly entering me, and when I feel his pelvis press against my ass, I know I've taken him completely. He groans, burying his nose in the back of my head. "I didn't think you were a coward." I try to ignore the sharp stretch. "You're missing out on an amazing show of how perfectly your pussy takes me." He peppers my spine with warm kisses, brushing my hair aside to continue those kisses higher up my neck.

I shake my head to tell him I don't care but the pain is starting to become more of a dull ache now, that delicious pinch of fullness, but knowing that this man could tear me in half and I still wouldn't ask him to stop.

"Okay. Shut up." He moves his hips and pushes all the way inside, his body still hanging over me, pinning me to the bed. I whine into the sheets, hoping to muffle my sounds, grateful that this is a hotel. His hands stroke my bare back, rubbing my skin, traveling down my arms until they reach my hands, intertwining our fingers. He wraps his arms around me as he starts to move in a tempo, fucking me. He feels crazy. So incredible. So big. So warm. The way he feels inside me. God, he must look like a fucking porn star right now, riding me. His lips stay next to my ear.

"You're like poison in my life, you know that? Getting into my system and slowly destroying it." I moan, lifting my ass up to meet his pace. "The perfect fuck with our combined poison." He continues to whisper dirty words in my ear as he thrusts his cock into me over and over. One of his hands leaves mine, sliding between me and the mattress until he finds my clit.

"Roman." "What?" He mutters. "I like my name since you started using my real name again. What do you want?" "Turn me over. I want to see." He pauses. "Is it true?"

Obviously, we both knew that these were too impulsive words and the most desired lust. "Don't you dare call me a coward and turn me over."

He pulls out, a sudden emptiness empties my stomach before he flips me onto my back. Oh, that was a bad idea. His coffee color is even darker with desire. His abs are tense. His cock is swollen. His skin is glistening with sweat. Roman spreads my legs, placing one over his shoulder to get a better angle before he thrusts into me again. We both moan as he fills me. He slides in easier this time, my body ready to take him, especially now that I can see him.

There's no doubt in my mind, I've never wanted anyone like I want him. He holds my hips, filling me over and over, kissing the inside of my ankle where it rests on his shoulder. He plays with my clit. He squeezes my tits. Then he leans forward, pinning my leg to his chest and using the bed as leverage to press me into the mattress. And, oh God. I've never been fucked like this. I'm at this man's mercy, and he's not holding back. Beads of sweat form on his forehead, our skin touching as my hands search for something to grab onto, my nails digging into his back.

Then he does my favorite move and moves his hips to fill me again. Roma grabs my jaw with one hand and kisses me roughly, his tongue entering my mouth, no doubt to silence me. But then, as his body falls on mine, our movements change. This is less frantic. We find a rhythm as his body pulls us closer. This kiss is slow and gentle.

His forehead presses against mine as he touches me, savoring every inch of my skin. My fingertips press into the small of his back as he moves above me. We watch each other. It's... intimate. It's scary. Fuck. No. No. No. But I can't stop myself from going over the edge with him again.

"You're always so perfect." He presses his nose to mine, kissing me again. And since I can't handle moments like this when it absolutely shouldn't be like I did in our first year of marriage, I try to ruin the intimacy with sarcasm. "I wasn't perfect when I ran away from you." He shakes his head. "Even when I hate you, you're always perfect."

Damn. He doesn't mean wanting my body. He means wanting the connection we've created. I have to correct him. Remind him that it's supposed to be different. Easy. Detached. That hate looks so much different than the words he just said. But... I stay silent because I don't know how to describe the storm inside me.

Roma slides his hand between my back and the bed, and we move together. I wrap myself around his body until we both come. He buries his face in the crook of my neck as I have my third orgasm of the night, and I kiss his chest and sweat-slicked skin as he reaches his first.

My name sounds like worship as he repeats it on my skin, kissing me softly as he comes. I have never loved the nickname krasavica as much as I do now, when he says it inside me, filling the word with gratitude.

And oh my god, watching him come? I think I would do almost anything to see that again after our long break. We touch as we both relax, and when he finally pulls out of me, I realize how empty I've always felt losing that connection. And it's just awful. He plays with my hair as he lies next to me, watching me with appraising eyes. "I've never loved Sin City so much," he mutters. "Perfect." I prop myself up on my elbows. "You weren't so bad either."

I was about to get out of bed, but his strong arms didn't let me go. "Don't go." He muttered . "I haven't slept well for a year since you ran away." "Why?" I asked quietly, not thinking that I would get an answer. "Because I wasn't enveloped in your scent." Oh, God. My only hope of not suffocating this man is to believe that everything really does stay in Las Vegas or I'll choke him myself.