Clean Break (A Little Like Destiny Book 3) Page 15

  I have no idea where we go from here. It’s not like I have a job waiting for me back in Las Vegas. I don’t have a home, not really. I miss that feeling of home—that feeling of having a place to go where you belong no matter what.

  I untangle myself from the man I love and make my way toward the bathroom.

  “Morning,” Mark says softly when I emerge after a shower. He flipped the sheet off his body. He slept in just a pair of shorts, and my mouth waters as I look at the strong chest and stomach inviting me back to bed.

  “Sorry for waking you,” I say. “How are you feeling today?”

  “Good enough for sex.” He says it hopefully, and I laugh.

  “Let’s give it an hour and see how you’re doing.”

  He rolls his eyes and huffs, and I giggle again. I sit on the edge of the bed.

  “I want to go home,” I say. I have an ulterior motive for my words.

  “Me too.”

  I glance around. “You are home.”

  He shakes his head. “Home is wherever you are.”

  My heart swells. “How did I manage to get so lucky with you?”

  He lifts a shoulder and his abdominal muscles ripple. “That whole thing about rock stars making fantasies come true.” He chuckles as he catches me staring at his abs. “See something you like?” he asks. He grabs the bulge in his shorts just under those abs, and a pang of desire bolts through me.

  “I see a lot of things I like, and right now I’m trying to remember exactly what the doctor said about how long you have to wait for sex.”

  “I’m fine, babe.”

  “I need breakfast first.”

  He laughs. “Fine. But then your ass is mine.”

  He makes me his ninja scrambled eggs then heads to the shower while I clean up our breakfast dishes. I call Jill and fill her in on the latest events of my life, and then I call Rachel and tell her everything, too. They’re both thrilled that Mark and I found our way back to each other.

  I’m about to call my mom when he comes out of the bedroom with an overnight bag. Aviator sunglasses are perched on his nose and he’s wearing jeans and a black t-shirt. I want to strip him naked and have my way with him in the middle of his kitchen. Immediately.

  “I have a surprise for you,” he says, pulling off the sunglasses. “Get your bags.”

  “Where are you taking me?”

  His eyes sparkle as he stalks toward me. He pulls me into him with one arm around my waist and presses a soft kiss to my lips. “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise. Now go,” he says, smacking my ass to get me in motion.

  I giggle as I scurry to the bedroom to pack up my stuff. Less than an hour later, Todd drops Vinny and the two of us off at Chicago’s Midway International Airport and we board Mark’s private jet.

  After we take off, Mark leads me back to the part of the plane I’ve never seen—the part separated from the rest of the cabin by a door. He opens the door and leads me into a bedroom complete with a queen size bed, a dresser that appears to be bolted to the floor, and a huge television.

  “I figured you’d force me to rest, so let’s rest as we travel to our destination and then we have the whole day ahead of us.”

  A few hours later, we move to the seats up front and buckle up for landing. Mark grins at me as we look out the window together and the familiar hotels of the Las Vegas Strip come into view.

  “Home?” I ask as tears fill my eyes.

  “You said you wanted to go home.”

  “And you make fantasies come true.”

  He lifts a shoulder. “Just yours.”

  “Why?” I ask.

  He gazes tenderly down at me. “Because I love you.”

  I answer with a kiss, and then it’s time to get off the plane and into the back of another Yukon. “Sal!” I greet Mark’s driver with enthusiasm, and he nods and smiles at me.

  Minutes later, we’re pulling up at the Mandarin Oriental. So many memories, both good and bad, attack me as we get out of the car and head toward the elevators. A few paparazzi are standing out front and snap our picture. Mark’s wearing his aviators and I keep my head down, but it doesn’t matter anymore.

  The world can finally see us together.

  Once we’re inside Mark’s familiar penthouse, I say, “Thank you for bringing me back to Vegas, Mark, but this isn’t my home.”

  “I think we should talk about that,” he says.

  A tingle of nerves shoots down my spine. “About what?” I ask cautiously.

  “You mentioned where you live doesn’t feel like home. If you’re looking for a new place to live, I would love if that new place was my place.” He sweeps his arms out. “Here. With me. And on the road, and in LA and Chicago and New York.”

  I can’t help the smile that plays at my lips. “Are you asking me to move in with you?”

  He nods with confidence as if he knows my answer before I even say it, but then he starts rambling nervously. “I can get your stuff from Tess’s place over here within an hour. I want you in my bed with me, in my sheets, by my side. If you’re not ready for that, you can stay in one of the other rooms and we can just be roommates for a while and learn to live together, learn to be a couple. But if you’re ready, I’m ready. I want this. I want you and I want to rise up against this world with only you.”

  I can’t help my grin. “Okay.”

  He grabs me up in his arms and twirls us around before he covers my mouth with his.

  “Really?” he asks. His smile is so wide that his eyes have little crinkles at the corners. He looks at me with boyish elation, and if not for the tattoos snaking along his arms and the dark scruff lining his jaw, I might mistake him for someone else.

  I nod. Of course I’d say yes. It’s not just convenient, it’s also the only place I want to be. “I don’t have anywhere else to go, but I also don’t have anywhere else I’d rather go.”

  “You’ll go on the road with me, too?” He looks so hopeful and so excited that even if I wanted to, I have no idea how I’d ever say no.

  “I’ll try it. But we need to find something for me to do on the road. I can’t just be Mark’s girl, you know what I mean?”

  “I’ll talk to Pen. We’ll figure something out.”

  He crushes his mouth to mine, and despite the force, he’s gentle and slow with me. His kisses invoke a vow as he tells me that it’ll only ever be me, just like the song says. I kiss him back in response, making sure he understands it’s the same for me.

  Despite the very different worlds we come from, I have the sudden inclination that when we face life together, we’ll be able to overcome anything that’s thrown our way.

  He breaks our kiss but continues to hold me in his arms. “Let me make a few calls to get your stuff here,” he says.

  “I never unpacked most of my stuff, but I’d prefer to box up what I did unpack myself.”

  He nods. “Let’s head over there now, then. We can fuck on that couch where you saw her banging someone else.”

  I crinkle my nose. “I’d rather have our reunion sex somewhere sexier than that. And cleaner.”

  He laughs.

  “I have a surprise for you, too.” I head over and grab one of the bags I got on Michigan Avenue and hold it out for him. “This is for you. Happy early birthday. Before you open them, though, I need to know one thing.”

  “What?” He eyes the bags with the excitement of a child, and I smile.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “A little tired after flying even though we slept on the plane, but I’d say I’m running at about ninety-five percent.”

  “Do you need to rest?”

  He shakes his head.

  “Are you up for a little adventure?” I ask.

  He nods.

  “Do you promise you’ll tell me if you’re feeling even a little bit too worn down?”

  “I promise,” he says, holding up one hand.

  I gesture to the bag, and he starts taking items out of it.


  “A long-sleeve red shirt with a dog on it, a pair of khaki shorts, and a Cardinals hat?” He avoids actually wrinkling his nose at the thought of wearing a football hat featuring a team other than his precious Bears. “This is my birthday present?”

  I nod and grin. “Do you have flip flops?”

  “I’m a man. Men don’t wear flip flops.”

  I roll my eyes. “Fine. Casual shoes aside from your black Nikes?”

  He nods. “Why?”

  I shake my head. “You’ll see. Open this one.” I hand him another bag, and he pulls out the contents.

  “A horse mask and a cow mask?”

  I giggle. “Open the last bag.”

  He pulls out a bunch of papers I printed online and starts reading the places on each as he flips through them. “Caesar’s Casino, Fashion Square Mall, Ziplining Downtown, Hike Red Rock Canyon, Outback Steakhouse. Denny’s?” He glances up at me halfway through the stack. “What is all this?”

  I lift my chin proudly. “It’s your birthday present. Your gift from me.”

  He looks confused. “Well, you nailed it. These are definitely things I don’t have. Um...thanks?”

  I step over and tap the papers in his hands, a smile playing at my lips. “You pick whatever you want to do. I’m giving you the gift of a day of normal.”

  His eyes soften and his jaw slackens a bit in surprise as he stares at me. “No one’s ever given that to me.” His voice is soft and full of wonder.

  “We’ll wear sunglasses and hats. I got the masks in case you wanted to be silly. You’ll look like a tourist in khaki shorts. No one’s ever seen the famous rock star in khaki shorts and a Cardinal’s hat. Ditch the black Nikes and wear something different. And the sleeves on the shirt will cover your very recognizable tattoos.”

  He tosses the papers on the kitchen table next to the rest of his gifts. He closes the gap between us and hooks his arm around my waist. He hauls me against him, his eyes intense and hot. He leans his face down to mine, and butterflies take flight in my belly as tingles burst through my chest. My heart races and my breathing labors. It’s the same crazy, intense effect he has on me every single time he holds me close, but this time, his eyes glow with adoration.

  “This is the best present anyone has ever given me,” he says, and for some reason, a sense of some future déjà vu overcomes me when he says that, a sense that someday I’ll give him an even better gift when I hand him a child born from our love.

  I shake off the thought. We’re barely even officially back together. I don’t know what’s going to happen next, but I feel like life has handed us the worst already. What lies ahead can’t be any worse than the last six weeks without him.

  He brushes his lips to mine, slow and sensual, a total tease before he backs away and blows out a sigh. He makes a show of adjusting himself.

  I don’t want him to stop. I never want him to stop.

  But he’s only at ninety-five percent, and just like Penny said about his voice the other day, I want him at a hundred percent for me, too.

  “What do you want to do first?” I ask.

  “I want to take a walk down the Strip.”

  “Are you sure?” I ask.

  He nods. “Yep.”

  “Then you better get changed.”

  Before I even finish my sentence, he’s tearing off his t-shirt and pulling on the long-sleeve shirt I bought for him. He lowers his running shorts, which I discover he’s wearing nothing underneath, and I can’t help but stare hungrily at his semi-hard dick that looks very lonely all the way over there.

  “Um, Reese?” Mark says. I snap out of my trance and look at his face. He points to his eyes. “My eyes are up here.”

  I giggle and blush then walk over to the window to look out over the view of the Strip—a view that’s played over and over in my mind and now belongs to me, too.

  * * *

  “I thought the best grand slam ever was when I went to a Cubs game back in the mid-nineties and saw one in person.” He takes a bite of his pancakes and shakes his head. “I might’ve been wrong.”

  We left the horse and cow masks back at Mark’s place when we walked out. When Vinny met us in the hallway outside Mark’s front door and asked where we were going, Mark simply told him, “For a walk.”

  I laughed the whole way down the elevator. Mark Ashton doesn’t ever just go for a walk.

  Vinny followed a few paces behind us so he didn’t draw attention to us. Even he’s wearing a hat, and so far, no one has recognized Mark. It’s a little trickier now that he’s taken off his sunglasses since we’re inside, but we’re in a corner booth and he’s facing the back wall. The chances of someone recognizing him are slim, and our waitress is about forty or fifty years older than Vail’s key demographic.

  “Mine’s pretty good, too,” I say. I take a bite of bacon and close my eyes as I savor the sweet, sweet taste of the pure, fatty pleasure.

  “Stop it,” Mark says, his voice a mix of commanding and joking.

  “Stop what?”

  “That little moan you just did.” He shifts on his side of the booth.

  “What little moan?”

  “The bacon-moan.”

  “Sorry,” I say, but it doesn’t come out very apologetically when I laugh. “It’s good.”

  “You’ve never moaned like that for me.”

  I raise a brow. “If you tasted like bacon, I might.”

  He glares at me, and I giggle again.

  “I’ve got some sausage for you,” he says.

  I shake my head. “There you go again.”

  “What?” He’s the picture of innocence.

  “Just when I think you’re this cool rock god even on our day of normal, you say something like that and knock yourself down a few pegs.”

  He takes a sip of coffee to hide his smile. “So how long am I supposed to wait for sex?” he asks.

  I purse my lips. “You’re impossible.”

  “I know, but I’m also adorable. So...?”

  “The nurse said to give it a few days. It all depends on how you feel.”

  “I feel good enough for a normal day.” He nods his head resolutely. “Which includes sex.”

  “You’ve mentioned that,” I say dryly. I take another bite of bacon, careful not to bacon-moan this time.

  “If I could walk all the way to Denny’s, don’t you think I could also have sex?”

  I consider his point. “Probably not both on the same day.”

  “We better get a ride back then.”

  I laugh, partly because he’s being silly, but also partly because he looks ridiculous in his bright red shirt and matching bright red hat. You’d think it would draw attention to him, but it doesn’t. It works as he blends in with the other tourists.

  “Trust me, Mark. I want to, too. But I think we need to make sure you’re ready.”

  He nods. “I do have something sort of serious I want to talk about.”

  My brows draw down. “What?”

  He clears his throat and avoids eye contact. “That night on the roof, the one with Brian...”

  “Yeah?”

  “He, um...mentioned something about going in bare.” He pushes his eggs around his plate with his fork. “What are your thoughts on that?”

  I’m confused. “About Brian going in bare?”

  “No,” he says. He finally looks up at me. “About me going in bare.”

  My cheeks redden. “Oh.” It’s all I can manage to say.

  “Forget it,” he mutters.

  “No, it’s...um...it’s just...”

  He shakes his head. “It’s okay. Someday, maybe. Forget I mentioned it.”

  “No, I mean yes. I—yes. That would be nice.”

  “Nice?”

  I giggle nervously. “You know what I mean. I’m just...” I don’t know how to say what scares me the most.

  “What?”

  I draw in a deep breath. “I know your reputation, Mark.”

  “I’ve never do
ne the bare thing.”

  “Okay, but you...wait. What?” I stare at him incredulously. “You haven’t?”

  He shakes his head.

  Holy shit.

  I could be another first for him.

  “Okay, but things happen. Condoms break. I just—”

  He cuts me off. “They ran my bloodwork when I was in the hospital. We’re good to go.”

  “Oh. Wow.” It’s all I can manage to say.

  “Are you on birth control?”

  I nod.

  “I assumed so since you let someone else in bare.”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “Is that what this is about?”

  “What?”

  I feel a bit of understanding clash with a bit of anger. “You wanting to get in there without anything between us. Is it to stake some claim?”

  He shakes his head. “No.” He’s adamant. “It has nothing to do with that. It’s about wanting nothing between us except skin. It’s about needing the type of connection with you that I’ve never shared with anybody before you. It’s about love and respect and understanding. But if it’s not something you’re ready for, that’s okay. I won’t push you. I’ll wait until you’re ready.”

  “I’m ready.”

  He glances around us. “Like right now?”

  I giggle. “Well, yeah. But no.”

  “I can think of somewhere nicer, or at least more private, than a corner booth at Denny’s for you.”

  “Like where?” I ask. “The bathroom?”

  His eyes light up. “Ooh, good idea.”

  I roll my eyes. “Absolutely not. Bareback happens in beds. Well, the first time at least.”

  “Boring,” he mutters.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Beds are for boredom.” He raises a brow at me like it’s a challenge.

  “Beds are for backs,” I counter, folding my arms across my chest and raising a brow back at him.

  “Beds are for burnouts.”

  “Beds are for banging.”

  “You win,” he says. “Let’s go bang on my bed.”

  “I’m still eating.”

  “Oh yeah, baby. Eat more bacon while I watch.” He makes a show of pretending to beat off under the table, and I can’t help but crack up.

  After I pay cash for our dinner despite Mark’s insistence that I let him treat, we walk back down the Strip. We stop at a hole in the wall casino and play some five-dollar blackjack—where we both lose—and we stop at another hotel to walk the mall and shop. Neither of us buys anything, but we window shop and hold hands and point out things we think the other one would like.