Forbidden Sins Read online

  His eyes widened, then narrowed in scrutiny. “Me, too,” he answered. “Strange we’ve never crossed paths before. I would have definitely remembered meeting you.”

  “I’ve only been here for a couple of weeks. I just finished school back east.”

  “New to the city,” he said with a nod. “I’d pegged you for a tourist. So, you’re brand-new and fresh-faced?”

  “I guess so.”

  “I guess it makes sense that we haven’t met. I just returned from Hong Kong, myself. I’ve been working over there the past couple of months.”

  “Oh nice. So corporate law isn’t all filings and research.”

  “It’s all of those things. But sometimes they let you go to exotic locales to file and research. How do you like practicing so far?”

  “It’s a lot of work. Which I don’t need to tell you.” She started to think about her father, and how he would more than disapprove of her night spent on the Vegas Strip instead of in her office. She pushed it aside. “You know, can we not talk about work? I really need to take a night off.”

  He looked relieved at her suggestion. “That sounds good to me. Can I buy you that drink now?” He held out his hand to her and looked around the busy casino. “I know a great place here. It’s quieter. We’ll be able to talk some more.”

  She looked Gabe over. The smart, sensible thing would be to thank him for the offer, catch up with Rachel and go home.

  But for one night, Ellie didn’t want to be smart. She wanted to have fun. Between her years in law school and her new job, she’d been working so hard lately, in her sensible suits, that it was time to finally release old Ellie for one more wild night. One more night of fun, that’s it. She’d earned it. And as she watched Gabe, with his cocky grin and mischievous eyes, she knew that he was the way to do so. Curving the corners of her lips upward, she put her hand in his and said, “Sure.”

  As her fingers interlocked with Gabe’s and her palm flattened against his, an electric shock shot through her body, and she looked up at his profile. He must have felt her gaze on him, because he looked down at her and winked. It was dumb, reckless even, to go off with a stranger, something that she’d never done before. But something about Gabe made her brain shut off and follow her intuition—it told her that she was right where she wanted to be.

  The crowd seemed to part before them as they made their way across the casino floor. Ellie was barely aware of the people around them as Gabe led her through the throngs, expertly navigating the crowd. She wasn’t sure if she was imagining many of them looking in their direction. She stiffened, wondering if any of them knew her from the days when she topped the gossip blogs, or maybe they knew Gabe, or maybe they were just admiring him, paying attention to the sexiest man in the room. He had certainly gotten her attention, Ellie reasoned.

  She was surprised when he didn’t lead her to the trendy nightclub, but instead bypassed the lineup and led her to a staircase that took them to a quieter area above the casino floor. The bar had an air of sophistication and exclusivity. Class. It was quieter, less chaotic than the casino below. The place felt like Gabe.

  After he shook the hand of the doorman, palming him some amount of money, an attendant led them to a secluded corner at the far end, a semicircle booth ensconced in a nook built into the wall to ensure them privacy. Ellie settled into the rich, leather booth, as Gabe did the same. When the server came to take their order, Gabe plucked the menu from the table.

  “What’s your poison?” he asked, passing her the drink menu.

  “I’m not picky,” she told him.

  After a brief deliberation, Gabe ordered a bottle of champagne for them.

  “A bottle?”

  “Well, they don’t exactly sell the good stuff by the glass,” he told her with a sly wink.

  “Champagne, though?”

  He shrugged casually. “I don’t know about you, but I feel like celebrating.”

  She sat a little closer to him, bringing her knee in contact with his thigh, pivoting her upper body to face him on the couch. “What are you celebrating?”

  “I have a feeling I’m going to become the newest partner at my firm,” he told her.

  Ellie’s eyes widened in awe. Gabe was clearly a young man, and making partner at a law firm was quite an accomplishment. “That’s awesome. Where do you work?”

  He shook his head. “I thought we weren’t going to talk about work?”

  “You’re right,” she said.

  “But I guess there’s something else I’m celebrating,” he told her, his voice dropping to a dangerously low and sexy murmur, as he tilted his head toward her.

  She inhaled another lungful of his light, but spicy cologne. Ellie had never been a connoisseur of male cologne, but she needed to know what Gabe used, so she could cover her pillow and everything else she owned in the scent. “And what’s that?” she asked, her voice an almost breathless whisper.

  He grinned and leaned closer, bringing his lips to her ear. “Meeting you,” he said with a whisper. His breath warmed her skin, dancing over the sensitized nerve endings of her throat.

  The sheer cheesiness of the line made her eyes roll. “Oh please.” Ellie laughed and lightly pushed his shoulder. But touching him proved to be a mistake, because instead of removing her hand, she smoothed her palm over his chest, under his jacket, over the fine material of his shirt. His chest was firm, warm, solid muscle. The man worked out. But when he put his hand on top of hers, stopping the movement, trapping her hand in the spot over his heart, she could feel a gentle thrum travel through her, until it settled in a pool of desire between her thighs. So in tune with Gabe was she that she was sure she could hear the beating of his heart—maybe it was her own—and their eyes connected as the rest of the room disappeared.

  Ellie’s mouth went dry and a heat radiated from her chest upward. Gone was the moment of levity they’d shared, the air heavy with sensuality. She was so caught up in the man—the stranger—sitting beside her that she failed to notice the server approach. She backed up and, startled, reluctantly pulled away from Gabe, as the waitress presented the bottle and poured them each a glass before placing it in the ice bucket and quietly walking away.

  Alone again, Gabe passed her one of the glasses and took the opportunity to sit closer to her, shifting to more fully face her in the center of the booth, placing his arm across the back. Even though he wasn’t touching her, she could feel his proximity, his gravity forcing her closer, drawing her near. She couldn’t fight it if she wanted to—she didn’t want to—so Ellie pivoted her body in his direction, crossing her legs, bringing her calves into contact with his shin. They didn’t speak, but Ellie could feel the waves of sexual tension that radiated between them.

  Gabe held his glass aloft. “To us.”

  “To new starts,” she added, clinking her glass with his.

  They sipped their champagne, watching each other over the rims of their glasses, and she sighed when Gabe made the first move, dropping his hand on her thigh.

  “You know, I’m pretty sure you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he told her.

  High-class club or dive bar, men, it seemed, were the same all over. She rolled her eyes. “That’s original,” she told him. Ellie wondered how many women fell for a line, especially when it was uttered by a man who looked like Gabe. He would have to do better than that.

  “Okay, what if I asked you if your legs were tired?”

  “Or if it hurt when I fell from heaven?”

  “Well, that’s it, I guess.” He moved his arm away and shrugged. She missed his warmth almost immediately, and all she wanted was for him to put his arm back, to touch her again. “Those are all of my good lines.” He laughed, a deep, rich sound that filled the space around them, and he raised his glass to his mouth and drained it. He leaned toward the table and poured himself another. “More?�
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  “Yeah. Thanks,” she said, holding her own now-empty glass out. He filled it and she sipped again. The carbonated bubbles tickled her nose.

  Gabe’s hand found her thigh again, and somehow, through the lust-and-champagne-heavy fog, a moment of clarity shone through. Ellie backed away slightly. “Wait a minute,” she said, and he removed his hand, leaning away from her, thankfully giving her the space she needed, where she wasn’t under the influence of him and whatever cologne he was wearing. But when she caught her breath, all she longed for was another indulgent breath of him.

  But she didn’t do this. Ellie Carrington didn’t fall so hard for men. She didn’t chase them. She didn’t jump into bed with just any good-looking guy. She needed to keep her cool. She wanted Gabe, and she could tell he wanted her. But he was going to have to work for it. She couldn’t let him know that he’d already won her over.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Don’t think that just because you got us this table and forked over way too much money for this bottle of champagne, I’m going to sleep with you,” she warned him. Even though Ellie would probably end the evening riding him like a cowgirl, he didn’t have to know it would be that easy.

  A quick grin split his face. Those dimples again. “What makes you think I’m going to ask to sleep with you?”

  She could still feel the ghost of his touch on her thigh. “The way you’re looking at me, the expensive champagne. Stuff like that normally comes with a price, if you know what I mean.”

  “Oh, I know what you mean, but maybe I’m thirsty.”

  “I’ll bet you are.” She quirked an eyebrow and he laughed.

  “Maybe I wanted to share a drink with a beautiful woman.” He took a drink from his glass, as if to prove his point. “But so we’re clear, Ellie, there’s no obligation on either of our parts here. We can just sit here, two strangers sharing a bottle of champagne. And if the evening leads to more—and I hope it does—that’s great. If not...” he shrugged and drank again. “Who knows, later tonight you might be begging me to fuck you—” she nearly crumbled at his use of the word, but he shook his head “—and I’ll just put you in a cab to go home.”

  Ellie laughed, knowing he was full of it. She could see the way that he looked at her, the way he’d caressed her thigh, and knew that if she was willing, there was no way he’d be putting her in a car. At that moment, Ellie knew that she would end up in bed with this man that evening. There was no other option. She felt powerless to the hold he had over her, his captivating emerald eyes, the upward curve of his lush lips. Ellie didn’t make a habit of sleeping around, or having one-night stands—nor would she judge anyone who did—not since she’d left her partying days behind her, but as she watched Gabe over the rim of her glass, she knew she would make an exception for him. Ellie was intrigued by Gabe, and she liked him already. So, she decided not to fight whatever was happening between them, and drank her champagne instead.

  * * *

  After an hour, the lights at the bar had dimmed a little, setting a more intimate mood. Gabe poured the last few drops of champagne into his glass, returned the bottle to the ice bucket upside down, and settled back in the booth, feeling as mellow and relaxed as he possibly could with the intense hum of desire buzzing through him. Ellie had kept her position, turned facing him, her long legs curled so her feet were underneath her, knees resting on his thigh, dangerously close to his dick.

  He wasn’t sure when he’d last enjoyed the company of a woman like Ellie. She was gorgeous and sexy, but she was also smart, quick, funny, and they shared some sort of connection that had eluded him for a while now. She was easy to talk to, and when the server came back, he didn’t want to leave so they ordered another bottle.

  “So, what are you doing on the Strip tonight?” she asked. “I might be new in town, but I know that this is mainly a tourist place.”

  Gabe thought about his response. With his friends all busy with their own lives, he had headed out on a solo mission. Not wanting to be alone in his empty house, the Strip seemed like a good way to kill a night. He’d been right. He’d been craving excitement. Something different. Something new. Something wild before he signed his life away to Charles Burnham, his boss and mentor, and as he looked over at Ellie, he knew he’d found it with her. “I came here tonight because I knew I wouldn’t see anyone I know here. I was looking for something different.”

  He could feel Ellie watching him and he knew he’d revealed too much. “It feels like there’s a story there,” she said.

  She’d hit the nail on the head, but he felt like a spoiled fool for complaining about all of his blessings and the success he’d had in his career. “There is. But not one I’m interested in telling.”

  She leaned closer to him, as if she were studying him. The air between them had become even more charged. Heated. It was a point of no return for him, as they both moved in slow motion. With his fingertips, he caressed her smooth jaw and drew her closer. He wanted to kiss her more than he wanted his next breath.

  The second her lips touched his, he was a goner. A gentle caress at first, testing her boundaries, he took her bottom lip between the two of his and nipped. Her sigh urged him on, and he stroked his tongue against the seam of her lips, before she opened to him, allowing him access to her hot, wet mouth. Soon, the kiss wasn’t enough. He grasped Ellie around the waist and lifted her, settling her onto his lap, so that her thighs straddled his. She moaned into his mouth and the sound shot straight to his dick. He was hard, and she ground against him, and she felt so good, it stole his breath when she tilted her head and deepened the kiss.

  His hands went to her ass, and he held her in place and controlled her movements as he ran her hot core against his length. Christ, Gabe wanted her, and he pulled away. He surveyed their surroundings—the walls of the nook kept them obscured from the view of the other bar patrons. He could take her right there, but a part of him held back. That sort of behavior would be welcome at Di Terrestres—he cursed himself for not bringing her there—but not in a booth at a public club. Whether or not they were in Las Vegas—Sin City—public decency laws still applied. “Fuck, I want you, Ellie,” he breathed against her skin, his fingers digging into her waist. He cursed his more practical, law-abiding side.

  “I thought I was supposed to be the one begging.”

  “You aren’t yet. But you will be. Let’s go somewhere where I can do everything I want with you.”

  Ellie nodded. “Good idea.”

  Gabe took some bills from his wallet and threw them on the table to cover the cost of the champagne and tip. Ellie and Gabe stood and casually walked outside.

  Gabe pressed his hand against Ellie’s lower back, leading her to the taxis waiting outside of the casino entrance, but on the horizon, something caught his attention. The High Roller, the giant observation Ferris wheel that had been added to the Las Vegas skyline a few years before. He had an idea. Just as bad an idea as he’d had within the confines of their cozy booth in the club—but one that would be even more fun.

  “Where are we going?” Ellie asked, as they bypassed the waiting cars and crossed the street.

  “I’ve got an idea.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  GABE TOOK ELLIE’S hand and, with a brisk pace, all but dragged Ellie toward the huge Ferris wheel that rose high into the sky. On her dangerously high heels, she could barely keep up with his long-legged stride. When they arrived at the ride, she looked up. Groups of probably ten to fifteen people boarded and gathered in each of the large observation pods, taking in the view of the lights of Las Vegas Boulevard with drinks in their hands and smiles on their faces.

  Ellie wondered why—when she was about to hike her skirt up a few minutes ago and have sex with him in a private booth—he would suddenly want to show her the view high above the Strip. There was a small lineup of groups waiting to get on but Gabe held back, waiting until
the line dwindled. Ellie almost squealed when Gabe grabbed her ass. She looked up and saw the wicked grin that had perched upon his lips. And she knew exactly why Gabe had brought her there—what his intentions were.

  When all the other groups had been escorted to their pods, they walked up to the attendant. Just like with the host at the club they’d visited, Gabe palmed a bill to the attendant. The man knew how to operate, to get what he wanted. “We’d appreciate it if we could ride alone,” he told the other man.

  The attendant winked at Gabe. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  They were escorted into an observation pod, and instead of bringing in another group, the attendant closed the door after them—ensuring that they were alone in the round pod, which had a maximum occupancy of forty people. The pod was large, luxurious and even featured a bar on one side. Go Big or Go Home was Vegas’s motto, it seemed.

  The wheel continued on its way upward, and the lights inside the pod were dimmed, to allow its occupants to fully appreciate the nighttime Strip view. For a brief moment, she found herself drawn to the view. The lights of Sin City twinkled as she took in the Eiffel Tower, the beam atop the Luxor pyramid, the neon lights of the Flamingo... The crowds of people reveling in it. The energy of Las Vegas Boulevard was incredible, infectious, and it fed her.

  But she forgot about all of that when Gabe came up behind her, cupping her hips with his large hands, watching the view over her shoulder.

  “It’s incredible, right?”

  “Yeah,” he whispered.

  “I can’t believe I live here.”

  “I’ve lived in this city almost my entire life. I’ve never seen it quite like this.”

  She turned in his arms, forgetting the outside view and focusing on the one inside the pod. “How long do we have in here?”

  “A half hour or so,” he told her, his lips grazing her neck. “Still not enough time,” he whispered against her skin.