Pouting my lips, I raise my eyes in an upward glance, not quite rolling them. “I’d rather not.”
“That look was hot,” he says after making a slight groaning noise.
We stop at a red light and my giggle fest is over. As I glance over at him and he’s looking at me, I wonder if he can see into the future because the look he’s giving me tells me he sees what I see.
His phone chimes again from his pocket, and he continues to ignore it. He slowly reaches over, grabs a strand of my hair, and very slowly tucks it behind my ear, sending shivers down my spine. Circling his index finger around my ear, he lightly tugs on my lobe, sparking a heat within my body that I have only felt once before. My body starts to quiver again. I look up to meet his now hooded eyes and decide to just come out and ask him if he remembers me because his movements and gestures are the same as they were that night so long ago. Before the words can come out, horns start honking and blowing. The light has turned green and I close my mouth.
As we enter the Palms Place Hotel and Spa driveway, he continues to tell me about his new album, but I’m having a really hard time concentrating on anything other than his physical being.
He stops the car and peers over at me. “Dahlia, did you hear me?”
Blinking at him, I shake my head. “Sorry, should I be taking notes?” I have no idea what he just said, and the funny thing is I really am interested in his new album and not only for work purposes.
Frowning at me, he nods his head. “Yeah, this is really important stuff.” Then grinning mischievously, he counters with, “I asked if you have ever stayed here before?”
My door opens and the valet is standing there. River meets me on the sidewalk and continues his teasing. “So did you get that down?”
I pout my lips and roll my eyes. “No I have never stayed here.” I give him a smirk and add, “Smartass,” just for fun. With a little more boldness than I intend, I say, “And don’t say it.”
Cocking his head to one side he asks questioningly, “Say what?”
“That my look was hot.”
“First of all, what makes you think I was going to say that? And secondly, it was!”
A greeting from the doorman helps distract him. I’m grateful as he nods his head and says, “Hi,” especially since I knew what he was going to say because he said the very same thing to me not only today but also the night that we met.
With our hands connected, we walk through the lobby of the hotel. The lobby is soothing and quiet in contrast to most Las Vegas hotel lobbies with their bright lights and dinging slot machines. The peaceful sound of water surrounds us, and the gleam of the floor is almost blinding. Everything about this place is tranquil.
As we wait for the elevator, I realize he’s still holding my hand, and we’re no longer in transit. We are standing still, holding hands as he looks at me with his powerful green eyes and rubs circles on the top of my hand with his thumb.
He’s explaining that he likes staying here because it is close to everything, but quiet, not all of the hustle and bustle of casino hotels. I can see what he means. This place is like nowhere I have ever been. I feel like I’m in another time and another place. The more I stare into his eyes the more I feel I am.
Dropping my hand as we approach the elevator, he reaches for his wallet and takes out his room key. Upon entering the elevator, he puts his room key in the key slot and pushes the button for Penthouse A. I’m relieved that he doesn’t have a single room like mine, because what am I supposed to do while he showers, sit on his bed and drink?
As we ascend, he leans against the elevator door with his foot on the wall, his hands in his pockets, facing me. He smiles slightly, and I can see traces of his dimples. Then out of nowhere he breaks out in song, singing an ode to the t-shirt I wore earlier today. Watching him as he sings Lola, he seems lost in the song. He’s so attractive, and watching him sing makes my breath quicken and my insides tighten.
When he reaches the lyric that mentions Cherry Cola, he grins crookedly. His tone is amazing, and I just close my eyes and listen, trying to control my breathing. He stops singing before he gets to the next line about sipping champagne.
I’m hyperaware of his closeness without even opening my eyes. He strides to stand directly in front of me, and his breath is noticeably quicker. He takes my hand and kisses it before leaning into my ear and whispering, “Do you like Cherry Cola?” The elevator doors open, and the connection is lost.
Chapter Eight
SOMETHING MORE
I know there is something more
We don’t even know what we’re fighting for
I have to ask why then
Because I don’t understand
I know there is something more.
I can’t stop thinking about everything that has already happened today as we exit the elevator. River grabs my hand and leads me down a magnificently decorated hallway. The floor is checkered in different white toned tiles, the walls are a spa-blue with creamy-white colored picture moldings equally spaced apart, each housing different photographs of the desert, secured by glass panels.
Walking down the hallway, I begin to wonder about the something more as my mind fades back to the question I asked myself so long ago. Does love at first sight really exist? It’s an interesting question. If you had asked me that question five years ago, I’d have said absolutely not. The love Ben and I had for each other evolved over our many years as friends. I can’t even remember when our love went from the love between two friends to falling in love.
Then one drunken girls night out, I met the man who is now leading me to his hotel room and wondered to myself; Could I suddenly believe in love at first sight? How could love at first sight even exist when you were already in love with someone else?
And now, after River’s serenade in the elevator, I’m asking myself that very same question again. Only this time, the man I was already in love with is gone. Ben is just a beautiful memory of my past, and with that, the ‘danger’ of the man next to me is gone as well.
Shaking my head to rid any thoughts of love, I choose to focus on lust instead. My body begins to tremble slightly and I have an ache that seems to radiate from everywhere. I want this man to touch me. I need him to touch me. Honestly, I want more—a lot more. I’m fairly certain he wants that too. All I have to do is finish my interview first so we can move on to what I’ve wanted to do since I first saw him.
River pauses at the door while he takes the key that’s already in his hand and slides it into the key slot, pushing the door open. He drops his hand and puts it on the small of my back as he guides me into the suite. Walking in, I mentally take back my thoughts that he’s almost famous. This suite is definitely for famous people. It has floor-to-ceiling windows along the entire back wall. The living room is decorated similar to the hallway with soft color tones and contains a fireplace. The dining room houses a light beech wood table for twelve, and the kitchen is equipped with white marble countertops, built in coffee maker, and even a gas stove. The hardwood and marble flooring is like nothing I’ve seen in a hotel suite before. There is even a small swimming pool with a hot tub on the balcony overlooking the strip. The suite feels bigger than my house.
Setting his guitar down in the corner, he leaves his hand on my back while guiding me toward the window. He stands still for a moment, and I wonder what he is thinking. He slides his tongue over his bottom lip in an insanely hot manner. We’re so close that I can feel his warm breath on the nape of my neck. I admire his gorgeous face and smooth skin. I can almost touch his fully defined abdominal muscles through his t-shirt. He is so unbelievably good looking. I feel my heart quicken and if he gets any closer, I might just free-fall out the window, but I continue to look at him. His facial features are so alluring: he has a strong jaw, a sculpted nose, an extremely toned body, and his personality is extremely captivating.
“There isn’t another view in Las Vegas like the one from this window at night,” he says while unlocking the sliding glass doors and opening them. “I hope you plan to stick around to see the city light up.” Not waiting for an answer, he brushes by me to walk toward the kitchen, but not before dragging his fingers across the span of my back. His slight touch sends tingles all the way up to my neck.
On his way into the kitchen, he texts something on his phone, but I don’t ask what.
Watching River walk that walk to the kitchen, I can only smile. “Is that an invitation? Because I didn’t think I needed one,” I tease, now laughing out loud and grinning widely.
“You don’t,” he says as he turns back to catch me staring at his backside. He winks at me, and then grins so wide his dimples are almost pulsing.
River plugs his phone into an iPod dock on the counter and U2’s Beautiful Day surrounds us as he glances at me from under his brows, a small grin curving from his lips, and he hums along to the song. What is he doing?
Opening the refrigerator, River pulls out two bottles of beer. He lifts one up and asks, “Is this okay? I’m not really a good bartender, but I can try to whip up something if you want.”
I nod my head, my ever-present smile still in place. “It’s perfect. Can I get a glass of ice please?”
“Hmmm . . .” I hear River say, still grinning at me and shaking his head.
He starts opening and closing a few cupboards until he finds the glasses. He pulls down two and places them on the counter. After filling one with ice from the dispenser on the refrigerator door and pouring the beer into the glasses, he walks toward the large L shaped sofa and motions for me to come over and have a seat.
As I walk toward him, I can’t help but notice how hot he looks. He’s like a magnet, and I’m a piece of metal being pulled to him without control. When I’m close enough to see into his eyes, the ones I have looked into one too many times, this time I’m thinking I hope they don’t let me out.
Raising an eyebrow, he says, “What are you smiling about?”
“Nothing. Everything. I don’t know,” I say, shrugging my shoulders and trying to resist the pull.
“Hmmm . . .” I hear again as he walks even closer to me. He motions with one hand for me to sit. I do as he suggests, and he hands me my drink and says, “That’s not very definitive.”
“It wasn’t meant to be.”
I’m a little distracted by his messy but perfect hair and overall good looks. I want to ask him if he has any idea how attractive he is. What’s wrong with me? I’m giddy like a teenager for Christ sakes!
Taking a large sip of my drink to cool down my overheated body, I immediately feel it; a brain-freeze. I squint my eyes trying to stop it, to will it away.
“Much colder with ic . . .” I hear him start to say, but the end of his sentence trails off.
I look up as he sets his glass on the table. He must have noticed my brain-freeze face because he says, “Close your eyes.”
I look at him quizzically while squinting.
His close proximity makes me feel even more off as he says, “Brain-freeze, right?”
I nod my head yes and close my eyes.
Placing his fingers on each side of my temples, River firmly presses while massaging circles at the same time. The goosebumps rear their heads and my temples are on fire, forget the freeze.
I once again feel his nose in the crook of my neck, but this time on his way up to my ear he allows his lips to skim the most sensitive flesh of my neck. When he reaches my ear he whispers, “Better?”
Nodding my head slowly, I open my eyes, very aware of how close we are. My breathing starts to increase again. Does he realize what that little move does to me? I really just want to grab him, but I restrain myself, remembering dinner and the interview. Yes . . . dinner and interview.
Pulling back to a safe distance, River once again masters changing gears as his conversation leads us back to normalcy. He questions me about where I grew up, what I was like in high school, where I went to college, and my life in general.
My mind drifts back to Ben time and time again. I’m finding it difficult to not mention him, but his spirit occupies my every memory. I’m talking to River, but Ben is in my head. I start to wonder what the hell I’m doing.
A knock at his door distracts me from my thoughts of Ben, for now.
“That must be the food,” River says as he walks over to answer the door. A waiter wheels in a table full of plates covered with silver domes. After River hands him a tip, I shoot him a questioning look.
“Yeessss,” he says as he removes the domes to reveal an array of nibble-sized bites.
“When did you order food?” I say, squinting my eyes and pouting my lips.
“Texted down to the kitchen,” he says, making a slight groaning noise, and with his eyelids half closing he adds, “That look is hot.” I knew he’d say that.
All I can do is shake my head at him because what I really want to do is lie him down on the couch. What’s his game? He’s driving me to the edge and there is no way he isn’t there too. He was almost panting after his last move.
Pushing aside my need for a man’s human touch—his touch—we talk for almost another hour while we continue to drink and eat.
When we have both finished our second beer, mine with ice, his without, River stands up. “Feel free to make yourself at home while I take a quick shower.”
I’m watching River leave the room, admiring that walk that I can’t get enough of and the way his hair somewhat sticks out in the back, when he turns around and winks at me. Having caught me staring he mumbles something I can’t really hear, but sounds strangely like, you could join me if you want.
Disappearing into what I can only assume is the bedroom, I consider joining him. I really want to, but I’m here for work. Damn, I really need to get my shit together and get that interview done.
“That look was hot,” he says after making a slight groaning noise.
We stop at a red light and my giggle fest is over. As I glance over at him and he’s looking at me, I wonder if he can see into the future because the look he’s giving me tells me he sees what I see.
His phone chimes again from his pocket, and he continues to ignore it. He slowly reaches over, grabs a strand of my hair, and very slowly tucks it behind my ear, sending shivers down my spine. Circling his index finger around my ear, he lightly tugs on my lobe, sparking a heat within my body that I have only felt once before. My body starts to quiver again. I look up to meet his now hooded eyes and decide to just come out and ask him if he remembers me because his movements and gestures are the same as they were that night so long ago. Before the words can come out, horns start honking and blowing. The light has turned green and I close my mouth.
As we enter the Palms Place Hotel and Spa driveway, he continues to tell me about his new album, but I’m having a really hard time concentrating on anything other than his physical being.
He stops the car and peers over at me. “Dahlia, did you hear me?”
Blinking at him, I shake my head. “Sorry, should I be taking notes?” I have no idea what he just said, and the funny thing is I really am interested in his new album and not only for work purposes.
Frowning at me, he nods his head. “Yeah, this is really important stuff.” Then grinning mischievously, he counters with, “I asked if you have ever stayed here before?”
My door opens and the valet is standing there. River meets me on the sidewalk and continues his teasing. “So did you get that down?”
I pout my lips and roll my eyes. “No I have never stayed here.” I give him a smirk and add, “Smartass,” just for fun. With a little more boldness than I intend, I say, “And don’t say it.”
Cocking his head to one side he asks questioningly, “Say what?”
“That my look was hot.”
“First of all, what makes you think I was going to say that? And secondly, it was!”
A greeting from the doorman helps distract him. I’m grateful as he nods his head and says, “Hi,” especially since I knew what he was going to say because he said the very same thing to me not only today but also the night that we met.
With our hands connected, we walk through the lobby of the hotel. The lobby is soothing and quiet in contrast to most Las Vegas hotel lobbies with their bright lights and dinging slot machines. The peaceful sound of water surrounds us, and the gleam of the floor is almost blinding. Everything about this place is tranquil.
As we wait for the elevator, I realize he’s still holding my hand, and we’re no longer in transit. We are standing still, holding hands as he looks at me with his powerful green eyes and rubs circles on the top of my hand with his thumb.
He’s explaining that he likes staying here because it is close to everything, but quiet, not all of the hustle and bustle of casino hotels. I can see what he means. This place is like nowhere I have ever been. I feel like I’m in another time and another place. The more I stare into his eyes the more I feel I am.
Dropping my hand as we approach the elevator, he reaches for his wallet and takes out his room key. Upon entering the elevator, he puts his room key in the key slot and pushes the button for Penthouse A. I’m relieved that he doesn’t have a single room like mine, because what am I supposed to do while he showers, sit on his bed and drink?
As we ascend, he leans against the elevator door with his foot on the wall, his hands in his pockets, facing me. He smiles slightly, and I can see traces of his dimples. Then out of nowhere he breaks out in song, singing an ode to the t-shirt I wore earlier today. Watching him as he sings Lola, he seems lost in the song. He’s so attractive, and watching him sing makes my breath quicken and my insides tighten.
When he reaches the lyric that mentions Cherry Cola, he grins crookedly. His tone is amazing, and I just close my eyes and listen, trying to control my breathing. He stops singing before he gets to the next line about sipping champagne.
I’m hyperaware of his closeness without even opening my eyes. He strides to stand directly in front of me, and his breath is noticeably quicker. He takes my hand and kisses it before leaning into my ear and whispering, “Do you like Cherry Cola?” The elevator doors open, and the connection is lost.
Chapter Eight
SOMETHING MORE
I know there is something more
We don’t even know what we’re fighting for
I have to ask why then
Because I don’t understand
I know there is something more.
I can’t stop thinking about everything that has already happened today as we exit the elevator. River grabs my hand and leads me down a magnificently decorated hallway. The floor is checkered in different white toned tiles, the walls are a spa-blue with creamy-white colored picture moldings equally spaced apart, each housing different photographs of the desert, secured by glass panels.
Walking down the hallway, I begin to wonder about the something more as my mind fades back to the question I asked myself so long ago. Does love at first sight really exist? It’s an interesting question. If you had asked me that question five years ago, I’d have said absolutely not. The love Ben and I had for each other evolved over our many years as friends. I can’t even remember when our love went from the love between two friends to falling in love.
Then one drunken girls night out, I met the man who is now leading me to his hotel room and wondered to myself; Could I suddenly believe in love at first sight? How could love at first sight even exist when you were already in love with someone else?
And now, after River’s serenade in the elevator, I’m asking myself that very same question again. Only this time, the man I was already in love with is gone. Ben is just a beautiful memory of my past, and with that, the ‘danger’ of the man next to me is gone as well.
Shaking my head to rid any thoughts of love, I choose to focus on lust instead. My body begins to tremble slightly and I have an ache that seems to radiate from everywhere. I want this man to touch me. I need him to touch me. Honestly, I want more—a lot more. I’m fairly certain he wants that too. All I have to do is finish my interview first so we can move on to what I’ve wanted to do since I first saw him.
River pauses at the door while he takes the key that’s already in his hand and slides it into the key slot, pushing the door open. He drops his hand and puts it on the small of my back as he guides me into the suite. Walking in, I mentally take back my thoughts that he’s almost famous. This suite is definitely for famous people. It has floor-to-ceiling windows along the entire back wall. The living room is decorated similar to the hallway with soft color tones and contains a fireplace. The dining room houses a light beech wood table for twelve, and the kitchen is equipped with white marble countertops, built in coffee maker, and even a gas stove. The hardwood and marble flooring is like nothing I’ve seen in a hotel suite before. There is even a small swimming pool with a hot tub on the balcony overlooking the strip. The suite feels bigger than my house.
Setting his guitar down in the corner, he leaves his hand on my back while guiding me toward the window. He stands still for a moment, and I wonder what he is thinking. He slides his tongue over his bottom lip in an insanely hot manner. We’re so close that I can feel his warm breath on the nape of my neck. I admire his gorgeous face and smooth skin. I can almost touch his fully defined abdominal muscles through his t-shirt. He is so unbelievably good looking. I feel my heart quicken and if he gets any closer, I might just free-fall out the window, but I continue to look at him. His facial features are so alluring: he has a strong jaw, a sculpted nose, an extremely toned body, and his personality is extremely captivating.
“There isn’t another view in Las Vegas like the one from this window at night,” he says while unlocking the sliding glass doors and opening them. “I hope you plan to stick around to see the city light up.” Not waiting for an answer, he brushes by me to walk toward the kitchen, but not before dragging his fingers across the span of my back. His slight touch sends tingles all the way up to my neck.
On his way into the kitchen, he texts something on his phone, but I don’t ask what.
Watching River walk that walk to the kitchen, I can only smile. “Is that an invitation? Because I didn’t think I needed one,” I tease, now laughing out loud and grinning widely.
“You don’t,” he says as he turns back to catch me staring at his backside. He winks at me, and then grins so wide his dimples are almost pulsing.
River plugs his phone into an iPod dock on the counter and U2’s Beautiful Day surrounds us as he glances at me from under his brows, a small grin curving from his lips, and he hums along to the song. What is he doing?
Opening the refrigerator, River pulls out two bottles of beer. He lifts one up and asks, “Is this okay? I’m not really a good bartender, but I can try to whip up something if you want.”
I nod my head, my ever-present smile still in place. “It’s perfect. Can I get a glass of ice please?”
“Hmmm . . .” I hear River say, still grinning at me and shaking his head.
He starts opening and closing a few cupboards until he finds the glasses. He pulls down two and places them on the counter. After filling one with ice from the dispenser on the refrigerator door and pouring the beer into the glasses, he walks toward the large L shaped sofa and motions for me to come over and have a seat.
As I walk toward him, I can’t help but notice how hot he looks. He’s like a magnet, and I’m a piece of metal being pulled to him without control. When I’m close enough to see into his eyes, the ones I have looked into one too many times, this time I’m thinking I hope they don’t let me out.
Raising an eyebrow, he says, “What are you smiling about?”
“Nothing. Everything. I don’t know,” I say, shrugging my shoulders and trying to resist the pull.
“Hmmm . . .” I hear again as he walks even closer to me. He motions with one hand for me to sit. I do as he suggests, and he hands me my drink and says, “That’s not very definitive.”
“It wasn’t meant to be.”
I’m a little distracted by his messy but perfect hair and overall good looks. I want to ask him if he has any idea how attractive he is. What’s wrong with me? I’m giddy like a teenager for Christ sakes!
Taking a large sip of my drink to cool down my overheated body, I immediately feel it; a brain-freeze. I squint my eyes trying to stop it, to will it away.
“Much colder with ic . . .” I hear him start to say, but the end of his sentence trails off.
I look up as he sets his glass on the table. He must have noticed my brain-freeze face because he says, “Close your eyes.”
I look at him quizzically while squinting.
His close proximity makes me feel even more off as he says, “Brain-freeze, right?”
I nod my head yes and close my eyes.
Placing his fingers on each side of my temples, River firmly presses while massaging circles at the same time. The goosebumps rear their heads and my temples are on fire, forget the freeze.
I once again feel his nose in the crook of my neck, but this time on his way up to my ear he allows his lips to skim the most sensitive flesh of my neck. When he reaches my ear he whispers, “Better?”
Nodding my head slowly, I open my eyes, very aware of how close we are. My breathing starts to increase again. Does he realize what that little move does to me? I really just want to grab him, but I restrain myself, remembering dinner and the interview. Yes . . . dinner and interview.
Pulling back to a safe distance, River once again masters changing gears as his conversation leads us back to normalcy. He questions me about where I grew up, what I was like in high school, where I went to college, and my life in general.
My mind drifts back to Ben time and time again. I’m finding it difficult to not mention him, but his spirit occupies my every memory. I’m talking to River, but Ben is in my head. I start to wonder what the hell I’m doing.
A knock at his door distracts me from my thoughts of Ben, for now.
“That must be the food,” River says as he walks over to answer the door. A waiter wheels in a table full of plates covered with silver domes. After River hands him a tip, I shoot him a questioning look.
“Yeessss,” he says as he removes the domes to reveal an array of nibble-sized bites.
“When did you order food?” I say, squinting my eyes and pouting my lips.
“Texted down to the kitchen,” he says, making a slight groaning noise, and with his eyelids half closing he adds, “That look is hot.” I knew he’d say that.
All I can do is shake my head at him because what I really want to do is lie him down on the couch. What’s his game? He’s driving me to the edge and there is no way he isn’t there too. He was almost panting after his last move.
Pushing aside my need for a man’s human touch—his touch—we talk for almost another hour while we continue to drink and eat.
When we have both finished our second beer, mine with ice, his without, River stands up. “Feel free to make yourself at home while I take a quick shower.”
I’m watching River leave the room, admiring that walk that I can’t get enough of and the way his hair somewhat sticks out in the back, when he turns around and winks at me. Having caught me staring he mumbles something I can’t really hear, but sounds strangely like, you could join me if you want.
Disappearing into what I can only assume is the bedroom, I consider joining him. I really want to, but I’m here for work. Damn, I really need to get my shit together and get that interview done.
