Page 17 of Gamble (Black Light #38)

REAGAN

H ow was it already four o’clock? Their day together was flying by too quickly.

It wasn’t lost on Reagan how different her day would have been had she stayed with Tristan.

She had no doubt that time would have crawled by at a snail’s pace had she been watching him play poker from afar, surrounded by thick smoke that made her sick to her stomach, all the while listening to Jeff and Jules talk smack about everyone who walked by as if making judgy insults was an Olympic sport.

Her carefree time with Elijah had been the breath of fresh air she hadn’t even known she’d needed.

After they’d gotten off the High Roller, she and Elijah had spent time window shopping on a fun promenade before he’d treated her to the best barbecue at a restaurant named Virgil’s.

It was fun hearing stories about how he and the movie crew had enjoyed eating there often while filming in the city years before.

Reagan couldn’t even remember having as much fun as she was having.

The most astonishing part was that it was with an almost stranger.

Elijah’s attention to detail in planning their perfect day was impressive enough, but it was how natural she felt when talking with him that had made the day the most special.

Only now, when looking back and comparing her recent dates with Tristan, did Reagan realize just how much she’d had to change to mold herself into the woman she’d needed to in order to fit into Tristan’s life.

Her vegan ex-boyfriend wouldn’t have been caught dead in a meat-lover’s paradise like Virgil’s.

And not only would he have criticized her choice of Texas-inspired brisket and basket of fries smothered in cheese and bacon for the meat content, but he would have reminded her how many pounds she’d be putting on if she ate all the high caloric treats.

Elijah, in contrast, had shared the fries with her and even bought her the most heavenly chocolate ice cream at the Ghirardelli’s shop they’d passed on the way back to the waiting car.

“I think I lost you.”

Elijah’s words broke through her internal reflection. She’d been looking out the window over the city while waiting for him to come out of the bathroom in his suite.

Spinning, she turned to answer, but the words got stuck on her tongue.

If she hadn’t seen his driver’s license with her own eyes, she would never have believed the man standing in front of her in a pair of swimming trunks was turning fifty years old the next day.

Fully dressed, he’d looked like a handsome, fit gentleman.

Undressed, he looked like a sexy male model for a fitness magazine.

The grin on his face told her he approved of her reaction.

“Em… wow,” was all she got out.

Elijah dragged his gaze up and down her own bikini-clad body before adding, “You took the words right out of my mouth.”

Reagan felt the heat rushing to her cheeks. She should be embarrassed or even insulted by his hungry glare, but in truth, being with Elijah made her feel beautiful.

Seen.

“As much as I’d rather stay here and see what other surprises we might have for each other under our skimpy bathing suits, we need to head out so we can make our couples massage appointment on time.”

“Couples massage…?” Reagan’s voice trailed off as she thought through what that meant before adding, “I’ve never had a massage with someone else in the room.”

That’s because she’d been naked for the massages she’d had in the past.

“Me either, but I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather do my first couples anything with than you.” Elijah’s grin slipped, getting more serious before adding. “But if you feel uncomfortable with me being there with you, I can ask them to separate us.”

“No!” She answered so quickly that it surprised even her. “I mean, that’s unnecessary. We’re both adults. It’s fine.”

“Well, and if you’d rather, we can just leave on our suits.”

If she were honest, now that she’d seen how well he’d taken care of the rest of his body, Reagan was more than curious to know if Elijah’s hidden body parts were as impressive as the rest of him.

“Let’s see how we feel when we get downstairs, okay?” She hedged.

Grabbing one of the fluffy robes the hotel had provided, Elijah walked closer, holding it out as if it were a coat, waiting for Reagan to step into the terry warmth before leaning in to hug her from behind.

He spoke softly in her ear. “I hope you decide to go bare. It gets me one step closer to our bonus territory.”

Reagan’s breath caught at his flirting. The words he’d said might have been light and teasing, but the cock she felt rubbing against her ass was seriously hard. Even with layers of clothes between them, she could tell it was as impressive as the rest of his body.

She was unprepared for her body’s immediate surrender to the sexual tension charging between them. Grateful he was holding her tight, Reagan’s legs felt like spaghetti beneath her as her pussy physically contracted with pathetic need.

How long had it been since she’d felt this level of sexuality?

She wasn’t sure, but it had been too long.

Her heart was racing. Had Elijah offered to skip the massage and stay behind in his suite to get started on their bonus activities, she wouldn’t have said no.

“So tempting…” he said in answer to her unspoken thought. “But I will not rush things.”

Stepping away from her, Reagan turned to watch him throw on his own robe before shoving his room key into the pocket. Reaching out in her direction, he invited her to take his hand. “Ready?”

It was a simple enough question, but considering the heavy emotions spending the day with Elijah was dredging up, it felt like he was asking about being ready for much more than a massage.

The thing was, she felt ready. Going with her gut, Reagan stepped forward to take his hand. “I’m ready. Lead the way.”

The small laugh lines around his eyes lit up, making him even more handsome than he’d been just minutes before. “How did you know? I do like to lead.”

Another rather strange comment she contemplated on the elevator ride to the spa level.

When the public areas of the hotel got crowded, she had to focus on holding his arm as he weaved them through the crowds.

Tucking her head against his shoulder, she did her best not to glance around, knowing the last thing she wanted to do was run into Tristan and his obnoxious friends.

When they were close to the spa, the crowd thinned out, allowing her to relax as Elijah checked them in with the receptionist.

“Wonderful,” the glamorous woman in a power suit said. “We’re set up and ready for you in the Royal Room. Follow me.”

The spa was bustling as they weaved through the space. In the distance, Reagan could see guests getting hair and nail treatments in one portion of the salon just before going down a wide hallway with closed doors on each side—each with tranquil-sounding nameplates on them.

The Royal Room was at the end of the hall, and as soon as their escort opened the door, Reagan understood they’d named the room well.

It was three times the size of any place she’d gotten a massage in the past. More importantly, not only were there two tables set up near the entrance, it was the glass wall exposing a private jacuzzi and door labeled sauna that made it special.

“Wow,” was all she could get out.

“I’ve always wanted to try one of these rooms,” Elijah said, already taking his robe off.

“I’ll give you a couple of minutes to get ready. Marian and Joy will join you in five minutes for your fifty-minute massage. They’ve been given the feedback you provided when you booked your appointment.”

“Excellent,” Elijah said. “Thanks.”

Only when they were alone, did Reagan question him. “This is way too expensive. Why didn’t you just book normal massages?”

Pinning her with that scary glare of his that didn’t frighten her at all, Elijah reminded her. “I think I told you there would be consequences the next time you questioned how much money I was spending today.”

It was a statement. Not a question.

Her heart pounded faster, distracted by his athletic body. He had a better six-pack than any other guy she’d ever dated. And the dark chest-hair with a twinge of grey reminded her that Elijah was all man. Confident. Mature. Sexy-as-hell man.

Reagan swallowed hard as their eyes met. The raw sexuality he exuded in a simple glance had her off-base.

Without taking his eyes off her, Elijah closed the distance between them, reaching for the white terry rope holding her robe together. Untying it, Elijah opened her robe, exposing her body to his hungry gaze.

“I think you have too many clothes on, Ms. Murphy,” he teased, pushing the robe off her shoulders, letting it pool at her feet.

Her breath hitched, waiting to see what consequences he might have been thinking about seconds earlier.

“Unfortunately, we don’t have time for me to take care of reminding you why you won’t be questioning my spending money right now.

But… during your massage, I want you thinking about all the delicious things I might have up my sleeve to teach you just how serious I am when I talk about consequences. ”

Reagan’s breath hitched.

Why did his veiled threat turn her on? Shouldn’t she be afraid? At least scandalized?

A knock on the door should have interrupted their connection, but Elijah stayed close, letting the two middle-aged masseuses flutter into the room, busying themselves with their preparations.

Just when their visual showdown felt awkward, Elijah leaned in closer to whisper against her ear.

“I’m taking my trunks off now. If that makes you uncomfortable, I suggest you look away.”

Had his voice always been that husky?

Reagan shook her head, trying to shake herself out of Elijah’s trance she’d fallen prey to. Did he think her some kind of virginal prude with his warning?

But if his hungry gaze was to be believed, he knew damn well she was no innocent. His glare never left her as he pushed his swim trunks down to gather at his feet.