Stupid question, Reece thought, and grabbed a bottle of bourbon from the complimentary bar in his suite. When it came to Shelby, he had no fucking sense in his head.
That girl was trouble with a capital T. In so many ways.
He yanked his tie loose and didn’t bother with a glass, downing the bourbon straight from the bottle. He relished the burn as it slid down his throat, but it did fuck all to put out the fire raging in his blood. He pressed a palm to the ridge of his cock. Maybe if he drank enough, the damn thing would lose all interest in sassy tattooed women with impossible hair colors who tasted like spice and honey.
At the memory of Shelby on his tongue, he swore and took another long pull of the bourbon. He wasn’t one to get sloshed to solve his problems, but tonight—yeah, tonight it seemed like the perfect plan.
He raised the bottle to his lips for a third hit, but a fist pounded against his door hard enough to rattle the chain. Oh, shit. Let it be Cam or Vaughn. Maybe Greer. Hell, he’d even take Jude. Anyone but—
He pulled open the door and was thrown back against the wall by a whirlwind of turquoise and purple and indignation.
“You.” Shelby took the bottle from his hand, knocked back a swallow, and pushed the door shut with one high heel. Then she pointed into the room. “Bed. Now.”
He kept his face impassive. “I don’t think so.”
“Well, I do. That’s the second time you’ve walked away. It’s not happening again.”
“I don’t understand the problem. You had an orgasm. I gave you what you wanted.”
“You have no clue what I want.” She fused her mouth to his and her tongue invaded, seeking, claiming, branding.
Trouble, he tried to remind himself even as he clamped his hands around her hips. So much goddamn trouble.
And he didn’t care.
Never had when it came to Shelby Bremer.
She broke away from the kiss and dragged him by the tie across the suite’s seating area to the bedroom. The king-size bed sat kitty-corner between sweeping windows that offered a glittering panorama of the Vegas strip. Reece had a half second to consider hitting the remote to close the blinds, but forgot all about it when she shoved him down on the mattress and straddled his hips. She pulled on the knot of his tie until it fell loose, then whipped it off from around his neck.
“Wrists.”
A thrill coursed through him. “No.”
She wiggled out of her thong and swung it around her finger once before tossing it aside and grinding against his erection. Even through the layers of clothes still separating them, he felt her heat and the wetness from her earlier orgasm.
“Do you want this?” she demanded. “Don’t lie.”
He couldn’t control the rumble growing in his chest. “Jesus, yes.”
“Then you do what I say when I say it. Wrists.”
Trembling, he held his arms out to her. Shelby looped the tie around his wrists, then secured the ends to the heavy wood bed frame. The room temperature shot up a good ten degrees as she slid down his body, popping open each button on his shirt. She trickled bourbon on every inch of skin she exposed and lapped it up. His muscles quivered under the long strokes of her tongue.
When she reached the edge of his pants, she sat up and undid his belt, unzipped his trousers, and freed him.
“Mmm.” Her breath fanned over his cock. “You’ve been hiding a lot behind those suits huh, Hershey?”
“Reece,” he gritted out between clenched teeth.
She laughed and drizzled bourbon on him, then circled his tip lightly with her tongue, sending electric shocks through his body. He strained against his bonds, wanting more than anything to dig his fingers into her hair and keep her hot little mouth on him. She continued with the light teasing until his entire body shook, and every breath he dragged in was a chore.
“Shelby…” Jesus, was that his voice? He sounded like he’d swallowed a handful of rocks.
“What?” she whispered against his hip and cupped his balls in one hand. “Tell me what you want.”
“Your mouth.”
“Where?”
He barely managed to strangle the words out. “On my cock.”
“Now that’s no way for a nice, straitlaced boy to talk.” She bit his hip hard enough he was sure she left teeth marks, but the pain only intensified the pleasure, and his eyes all but rolled back in his head.
Jesus. Christ.