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  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

  577 Mulberry Street, Suite 1520

  Macon GA 31201

  Nothing Stays in Vegas

  Copyright © 2008 by Moira McTark

  ISBN: 978-1-60504-028-8

  Edited by Angela James

  Cover by Anne Cain

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: March 2008

  www.samhainpublishing.com

  Nothing Stays in Vegas

  Moira McTark

  Dedication

  To my husband, Chris, and all the McTarks.

  Prologue

  Green typeface against a white screen: CDanielsRunner is typing.

  CDanielsRunner: What are you wearing?

  A flush of heat rose to the surface of her skin. Sitting cross-legged on her bed, soft pink quilted roses beneath her skin, Lara Sinclair looked down at her sweat shorts and tank top. Maybe it was best to lie.

  Something slinky, she typed, fairly certain Cal wouldn’t be fooled.

  CDanielsRunner: By slinky, do you mean gray and athletic?

  The corner of her mouth rose. How well he knew her for never having laid eyes on her.

  CapeGirl: Faux athletic. I don’t actually work out in these. They’re built for sleepwear and they’re pretty thin, but they do look suspiciously like my running garb.

  CDanielsRunner; Thin sounds nice, I bet they feel good on your skin.

  Skimming her hands over the soft cotton at her belly, she noticed the fine texture for the first time. The fabric was barely there.

  CapeGirl: It does feel good.

  CDanielsRunner: No fair, I can’t touch.

  Lara let out a frustrated sigh, it wasn’t fair. She was dying for him to touch. After two and a half weeks of internet communication, she was getting desperate to have his fingers moving over something other than a keyboard.

  CapeGirl: Only three more days. I never thought I would say this, but I could kiss my sister for making her wedding a week long ordeal. Means I get to see you longer.

  She was nervous, excited. The waiting was killing her. She’d never met anyone who made her feel the way Cal Daniels did. She owed Dette for this one. Cal was the best man in Dette’s upcoming wedding and Lara had been assigned the task of helping him coordinate his travel plans. In their first email exchange, she’d caught a subtle reference to her favorite novel in his signature line and made a cheesy joke of it. They’d been corresponding ever since. She didn’t know what he looked like, other than he was an avid runner, was in “okay” shape, had blond “horrible” hair and blue eyes. It wasn’t much to go on, but she didn’t care a bit.

  CDanielsRunner: Kiss your sister- eh? Don’t make me jealous. Three more days is too long. You tell me about it.

  CapeGirl: About what?

  CDanielsRunner: What you are wearing.

  A pulse of excitement shot through her. He couldn’t be suggesting what she thought. No, that’s exactly what he was suggesting. Cal’s flirtatious tone made her feel naughty and daring, and tonight she was already over the edge of excitement knowing she would be able to see him so soon.

  CapeGirl: Tell me what you want to know.

  CDanielsRunner: So it’s thin, can you see through it?

  CapeGirl: Them. White tank top and gray shorts.

  Suddenly, having no room for a real desk in her tiny apartment seemed more like serendipity than an inconvenience. The bed was the perfect place for her laptop. She studied her reflection in the mirror over her dresser. The tank top was tight and the ribbing stretched across the full swell of her breasts.

  CapeGirl: You can see my nipples through the fabric.

  She hit send, and waited. Nothing indicated Cal was typing. Her heart started racing. What if she’d been wrong and he hadn’t been thinking kinky? Then a response.

  CDanielsRunner: What do your nipples look like?

  She pressed her lips together between her teeth, dragging her breath in through her nose. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. Would he think less of her when they actually met in person? No, she trusted Cal—enough to expose herself to him in a way she never dreamed she’d be capable of doing. Taking the plunge, her fingers flew over the keys.

  CapeGirl: Dark and rosy, they’re hard.

  CDanielsRunner: Why?

  CapeGirl: For you.

  CDanielsRunner: I like that. Touch them for me. Are they sensitive?

  CapeGirl: Yes.

  CDanielsRunner: Tell me how you touch them.

  With one hand, Lara pinched lightly, pulling the erect tip out with increasing pressure.

  CapeGirl: Soft first, and then hard.

  CDanielsRunner: Roll them in your fingers for me.

  CapeGirl: I am, it feels good.

  CDanielsRunner: Where do you feel it?

  CapeGirl: Everywhere—my breasts, my belly, between my legs.

  CDanielsRunner: Between your legs—are you hot?

  CapeGirl: Yes.

  CDanielsRunner: Wet?

  CapeGirl: Yes, very.

  CDanielsRunner: Can you see it?

  Turning toward the mirror she gazed at the damp seam between her legs. She couldn’t believe how turned on she was, how bad she needed this.

  CapeGirl: Yes, my bottoms are soaked.

  CDanielsRunner: I want to be there.

  More than anything, at that moment, with anticipation swirling through her belly, she wished he was there too. She couldn’t believe she was doing this, but the weeks of increasing flirtations, innuendos and suggestion had left her half-crazed with lust. She could talk to him about anything, laugh about anything, and even with the filter of cold text across a screen, he’d managed to make her so hot, she couldn’t wait the final three days to actually be with him.

  CapeGirl: Tell me what you would do to me if you were here.

  Another pause, as though he were considering.

  CDanielsRunner: I’d rub my thumb between your folds, pressing through those thin wet shorts. I’d make you wetter.

  She didn’t think she could get any wetter. The next line proved her wrong and had her heart tripping in her chest.

  CDanielsRunner: Do it, I want to know how it feels.

  Hand resting against the damp heat of her sex, she hesitated, wondering if she could go through with it.

  CDanielsRunner: Are you touching yourself?

  She slid her thumb down over her pussy, stroking over the damp fabric. The musky scent of her own sex arousing her all the more.

  CapeGirl: Yes, like you said, with my thumb over my shorts. It feels good, making me ache.

  CDanielsRunner: Good. I want you to ache for me. Put your hand inside your shorts, so your middle finger slides between your lips. I want to feel you.

  She slid her left hand under the waist of the shorts, groaning as she nestled between the slick folds of her labia. Her breath came faster as she typed with her right hand alone.

  CapeGirl: I’m so wet, so hot there. I’m throbbing.

  CDanielsRunner: I like that. You’re ready for me. I want to slip one finger inside you now.

  Her finger curled toward her
opening and pushed inside.

  CapeGirl: Slick, tight. Makes me breathless.

  CDanielsRunner: Makes me crazy, I want more of you. Slide another finger inside.

  Pulling her finger almost all the way out, she quivered. Then pushed back in with two.

  CapeGirl: So good.

  CDanielsRunner: Is it enough? Do you have enough of me?

  The idea that it was him touching her, his fingers inside of her instead of her own, sparked a series of ripples through her core. Her inner walls hugged and stroked, hungry for more.

  CapeGirl: No. I need more.

  CDanielsRunner: Good, I’m not nearly done with you. Push deep inside yourself, as far as you can go…and stop. I want to play with your clit with my thumb. I’m going to make you come.

  It wasn’t going to take much. She pressed her thumb against the side of her clit and began to work it in small circles. Each revolution sent the blood racing faster past her ears. Tightened the coil of desire spiraling through her core.

  CapeGirl: doing it. good,good, wan you.

  Her fingers fumbled over the keys, but she was too close to care.

  CDanielsRunner: I’m thrusting inside you now, touching you everywhere. I’m making you mine.

  Moving in and out, she felt the rhythmic waves of her muscles contracting around her fingers.

  CDanielsRunner: Harder, baby.

  Harder, her thumb continued to circle her tight nub.

  CapeGirl: Good, si gotddddvvvvvvvvvvv

  CDanielsRunner: Faster, Lara.

  Faster, she worked herself until she was gasping, pinching her eyes shut. She fell back against the bed, her hips bucking, muscles clenching, as she climaxed hard against her hand. Opening her eyes, she shot up, still throbbing through her core. She looked at the screen.

  CDanielsRunner: That was great, baby. But I still can’t wait to get my hands on you. I want to see your face. Kiss your lips. I want to hold you. Three more days and you’re mine.

  Chapter One

  “What’s next, cuz? Is she going to ask you to step in for her on the wedding night too?”

  Gilt rays of the afternoon Cape Cod sun slashed between white painted shutters and in through the beveled panes of the six-foot arched windows fronting Lara’s bedroom. She’d been back for two days, nestled in the cool embrace of her childhood home, and already she longed for the three thousand mile space cushion, solitude and cozy comfort afforded by her small apartment on the opposite coast.

  Lara took a deep breath and leaned back against the stack of silk and embroidered pillows, shaking her head at her cousin’s insinuations. “Oh please, she had a pimple—and you know how Dette is. We look enough alike to pass for twins, so I took the picture with Adam for the paper. It was no big deal.” She stuffed a small round of tulle into the embossed, hand crafted, hexagonal box. Shoveled a scoop of Jordan almonds inside and slapped on a flower-topped lid. “That’s one hundred and six.”

  At the foot of Lara’s bed, Elizabeth “Bitty” Sinclair, sat atop their grandmother’s hope chest, one black Capri-clad leg bent under her the other stretched down to the floor. “One hundred and seven. Have I mentioned how much I hate your sister for this?” she asked, shaking the favor at Lara before she dropped it into the deep plastic bin and walked over to the window.

  Lara glanced over at Bitty, who smoothed her hands down her tightly fitted red sweater, and grimaced. This close to the rest of her neatly groomed, “together” relatives, she felt downright frumpy. How could their easy, classic style have skipped over her—and only her—so completely? When she’d selected her hip hugging denim jeans and flouncy pink peasant shirt that morning, she’d thought it was sexy, something that might catch Cal’s eye even before he knew it was her, but now…

  Clearing her throat, she adjusted her bra and then gave up. “Cut her some slack, Bitty. She wanted the wedding of her dreams. With only two months to plan it, family got stuck with some of the work.”

  “Family? Your parents didn’t even cut their trip to Mexico short. You know that’s got to be eating at Dette. They’d be here if it was your wedding.”

  Lara shot her a sidelong look. “Don’t be that way. Dette’s sensitive about Mom and Dad being…absent. Your parents aren’t like that so you don’t know how it feels. Anyway, it’s all the more reason to give her a break this week. And, Mom and Dad will be here by Friday afternoon. They won’t miss the wedding on Saturday and that’s the important thing.”

  “It’s Monday, Lara. Dette and Adam have everyone arriving at the estate today, but your parents—fine, whatever. Airport van’s pulling up. Looks like…” A door slammed below and the muffled sounds of masculine laughter filtered into the room. Bitty pursed her lips in appreciation and threw an impish glance over her shoulder at Lara, who sat working on number one hundred and eight. “…groomsmen.”

  Another scoop of almonds, another lid.

  It took all of Lara’s restraint not to jump up and press herself against the glass. She was going to meet him today. Her pulse raced and heat simmered at the surface of her skin. After weeks of not caring what he looked like, she was about to see his face for the first time. God, she hoped he liked what he saw in her.

  Stealing a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she pulled her brown curls around one shoulder and finger picked out a few of the tangles. Maybe she should have tried some eyeliner or something. No, she probably would have ended up looking like a raccoon. Better to stick to what she knew. She pressed her lips together, evening out the tinted lip gloss she’d put on earlier. This was Lara, not too fancy. Not breathtaking, but pretty enough.

  Damn, even in her own estimation, she could see the nervousness shining through her hazel eyes.

  She shook out her shoulders, trying to relax, and checked again. It didn’t matter what Cal looked like, the man behind the words was funny, intelligent and was making it very hard for her to remain nonchalant about the arrival of a van full of groomsmen. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder. “Anyone worth a good flirt?”

  Bitty let out a knowing laugh. “Listen to you…Little Miss Playing-It-Cool. Well, let’s see. Brown-hair looks cute, I’d rate him for two-inch pumps. Reddish-curls, nice butt, maybe three-inch sling backs, but this one… MmMmm. Blond-shock-of-just-a-little-disheveled… He’s four-inch stilettos all the way. If this is your best man… Oh, I hope this is your best man. I’m not even going to look at him. God, he’s a hunk. Last peek, I swear.”

  Biting her lip, Lara pushed off the bed and stood behind her cousin. “Stop it with the ‘my best man’ business. It’s not like I own him.” Insecurity crept stealthily into her psyche. Maybe she shouldn’t have let Bitty know how excited she was about Cal. What if it wasn’t the same when they were together in person? “I mean really, I don’t know anything about him. Really.” She sounded pathetic, even to herself.

  “Except you know he’s coming stag to the wedding.” Bitty shook her head, muttering. “And I’m not sure how you don’t know anything about the guy when you were on that laptop of yours for two hours last night chatting with him. Giggling, sighing—”

  Lara went on her toes and tried to peek over Bitty’s shoulder, but bouncy blonde curls blocked her view.

  Her cousin glanced back, her expression taunting.

  “Fine, I do know a little…okay, a lot… Let me look!”

  Taking the victory, Bitty smirked and stepped aside.

  From her vantage point, Lara could see the men collecting their bags, laughing, exchanging jokes. Nice looking bunch—even the airport shuttle driver, who caught sight of her at the window and winked before circling around to the back of the van. But no one’s looks alone screamed “I’m Cal!” Then a last pair of legs beneath the trunk caught her eye. Thick fingers reached over the edge and swung the trunk closed, revealing a smiling, chiseled face that made her heart skip a beat. Lara swallowed and sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. Please let this be my best man.

  Hunk didn’t begin to cover it.

&n
bsp; He was taller than the other men by several inches, and the fit of his khakis and long sleeved T-shirt suggested an athlete’s build. Wide shoulders, defined pecs and a back that flexed with enough definition to show through the taut fabric of his shirt when he threw the strap of his bag over his shoulder. Well-formed was an understatement. Disheveled was an understatement for that matter. The spray of thick sandy hair shooting out in all directions had an authentic quality about it. That tousled look was pure cowlick and pure sexy. Only a man could mistake it for “horrible”.

  The bedroom door jerked open behind them. “Oh my God, Lara, I need you. Bitty, leave!”

  Lara spun around to see her sister, Claudette, white as a sheet, backed against the wall. Her arms outstretched like she was trying to hang onto the ivory and sage wallpaper to keep herself from falling. Dette tended toward the melodramatic, but the frantic expression plastered across her face had Lara at her side in a second.

  “What’s the matter?” she asked, rubbing her sister’s arms.

  Dette’s eyes were wide, her face flushed. “Do you love me?”

  Oh no.

  Bitty walked over, hands on her hips and jutted out her chin. “What’s the matter now?”

  “Bitty, I’m serious. Leave, I need to talk to my sister, in private.”

  Their cousin huffed. “Just say no, Lara. Whatever it is.” Grabbing the bin of boxed almonds, she walked out.