Vegas Miracle Read online

  "Yeah, I was what you might call a late bloomer with women, but those ladies--well, let’s just say I was this tall as a college sophomore when I got the job, they made a little project of me. Stuff of fantasy, without a doubt."

  "Jesus, I’d guess." Henri poured the last of the wine into their glasses and smiled over the rim as he sipped. "The porn loop running through my head is pretty vivid."

  Ryan ran a hand through his hair.

  "Of course, I fell madly in love with each and every one of them. And even convinced one of the younger ones to live with me for a while, in my shitty apartment near campus. Live and learn."

  "So, Grace is your first wife?"

  "Uh-huh. Do I look that old?"

  "No, I’m just intrigued that it took that long for a guy as good looking and successful as you to make a commitment."

  "There was no shortage of potential candidates." Ryan was uncomfortable again. "But as you’ve likely already sorted out, I'm a commitment phobe."

  Henri was silent as they finished their glasses of rich cabernet.

  "Then what did it?"

  "She was the one. I don’t know. It was just obvious. I can’t explain it. And it’s not easy for me. I’ve told you more tonight than I’ve told her about my family." Ryan sighed, guilt washing over him.

  "She must be very special." Henri’s voice was soft again.

  "She is." Ryan stood up. "Thanks for dinner. And for listening. I should go."

  Henri remained seated. The eyes he trained on Ryan’s were pools of brown emotion as Ryan stuck out his hand. Henri rose from his chair, his motions smooth and liquid. When he touched Ryan’s hand, the electric spark made Ryan flinch. He let go, too early for politeness, he knew, but he had to get out here before anything happened.

  "I’ll call the resort shuttle." Henri turned and grabbed his phone. "I shouldn’t drive."

  Ryan found the bathroom and leaned over the small sink, staring at himself. Recalling once, in college, when he'd caught two of his friends, both men, in the abandoned study lounge late one night. They were kissing so passionately it made the entire room snap with energy. Ryan had watched, fascinated rather than repelled. When one man reached down and released the other’s cock, he’d had to repress a groan. Then, when the first guy went down on his knees and sucked the other’s cock until he came, Ryan rubbed himself off as well. He’d forgotten all about it. Until tonight.

  The women he’d experienced were plentiful, amazing and he loved fucking them. Not until Grace had he felt a single twinge beyond lust. And Grace held his heart, his very soul in her small hands when they weren’t flying over the computer keyboard. He’d never do anything to betray her trust. Splashing cold water on his face helped and he exited the small bathroom and ran straight into Henri, who was leaning against the wall opposite.

  "Oh, um, sorry," Ryan sidestepped the man.

  "Your shuttle should be here in about five minutes. I’ll consider your offer. Can I call you tomorrow?"

  Ryan was momentarily confused. When he realized Henri was speaking of the restaurant, he took a deep breath before answering.

  "Yes, that’s fine. I, um, planned to fly back tomorrow night. Grace is expecting me to join her on the Los Angeles leg of her publicity junket." Why was the man standing so close? What was it with Europeans and personal space? He didn’t want to seem weird by moving away so Ryan stayed put. Henri reached out and touched his chest.

  "Your heart. It’s beating so fast."

  Ryan had to step back. That or risk pulling the man to him so he could taste his lips again.

  "Again, I overstep. I’m sorry." Henry walked back into the large room that held the dining and living areas of his small villa. Ryan watched him go, his throat constricted with unspoken words.

  The light beep of a horn broke the stillness.

  "Thanks again, Henri. I look forward to hearing from you tomorrow. I think you’ll find this would be a great move for you."

  Henri’s smile was rueful. "Yes, I think it would be too. Adieux Ryan Sullivan."

  Ryan climbed into the back of the small car that waited outside. By the time they’d reached the main road, Ryan was reaching for his phone, the need to hear his wife’s voice nearly visceral. At that moment, he remembered he’d left his phone sitting on the small table where Henri kissed him.

  "Shit. I gotta go back. Sorry." He sat back and closed his eyes. He never forgot his phone. What was wrong with him?

  Chapter Five

  Ryan gave a sharp rap on the door. After a few minutes of silence he tried again. The vision that greeted him was something from a dream. Henri stood, naked but for a towel around his waist, his long dark hair loosed from its leather tie. Ryan opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. Henri took his hand without a word and pulled him inside.

  Their lips were rough when they met, almost angry as if Ryan had to prove it wasn’t right, that he didn’t want what they were doing. But Henri’s tongue laved inside his mouth and his hands grasped Ryan’s face and held him, insisting it was fine, it would be okay. All without a single word. Ryan groaned and wrapped his arms around the man, felt his cock press painfully against his zipper, shoved up against the bulge under Henri’s towel.

  Henri’s hands moved down Ryan’s shoulders and wrapped around to cup his ass, pulling him even closer while their lips never separated. The surreal feelings he’d experienced since meeting the man he was kissing were replaced by pure animalistic lust--A need to fuck so bad it made him dizzy. His balls were contracted already as if he could come just rubbing against Henri’s hardness. He pulled away with a moan, putting his hands on Henri’s dark face, the vanilla essence that swirled around the man intoxicating Ryan’s every sense.

  "Dear God," he gasped. "I...don’t...do...this..." he ground out as Henri pulled his towel off revealing the thickest cock Ryan had ever seen. Henri touched himself, ran a dark hand up and down the magnificent rod. He was uncut and his huge mushroom shaped head was swollen and glistening with early signs of his lust. Without another word, Ryan slanted his mouth over Henri’s again, using his own hand to yank his zipper down. If he didn’t fuck something right now, his entire head was going to fly off. He’d never felt such intensity with a woman, not even Grace and the guilt that started to creep in was dispelled when he felt Henri’s hand on his shaft, using a small ring of thumb and forefinger to encircle just the head, up and down, just there, making Ryan use his hips to thrust into the other man's touch. The velvet feel of Henri's hand was earth shattering.

  "There, that’s it, like that," Henri broke their kiss and muttered into Ryan’s ear. "Ah, my God you are," Henri stopped, letting his hand speak for him. Ryan was pressed up against the wall. He gave into the urge he’d held all day long by plunging his hands into Henri’s dark hair. The dark strands were as silky as he’d imagined. He fisted his hands in them, and pulled Henri’s face to his.

  "What are you doing to me?" His voice was hoarse, his hips still thrusting into Henri’s talented hand. Before he could answer, Ryan possessed his mouth again, unable to get enough of the sensations that were soaking into him. The place, the food, the wine. This man, his lips, his hand.

  Henri stopped then just as Ryan felt himself ready to blow like a teenager making out on his parent’s couch. He gasped, his arms suddenly empty, his cock erect and throbbing in the absence of Henri’s touch.

  Henri put both hands on the wall beside Ryan’s head. The man was shorter but not by much. His torso was lightly dusted with black hair, the definition of his chest, shoulders and abs nearly perfect and Ryan sucked in a breath as he took it all in.

  "Please understand me, Ryan Sullivan. I don’t want you to think about this as cheating on Grace."

  Ryan’s lust-addled brain cleared when Henri spoke his wife’s name. He stood upright and stared down at the man he wanted to fuck so badly his back ached with need.

  "What d’you mean?" Henri’s eyes glimmered in the dim light. The light beep of the horn made them both jum
p.

  "Merde," Henri cursed as he pulled his towel on and opened the door to wave the car away. Ryan closed his eyes at the realization he was staying here tonight.

  He was just reaching down to zip his aching cock back into his shorts when Henri returned and led him to a large leather sofa. A small fire snapped and sizzled in the grate. Henri had opened another bottle of wine and his glass was on the hearth. He took a sip then leaned over Ryan, his lips soft and caressing like a lover’s, not like a man with anything to prove as he allowed the soft, rich wine to pour between them. He eased Ryan’s zipper down again as he pulled the towel away from his own impressive erection. Ryan groaned into Henri’s mouth as lust possessed his brain again and he shifted his hips, his body seeking more contact.

  "I’m not kidding, Ryan," Henri insisted as his hands unbuttoned Ryan’s shirt and yanked it off his shoulders. "This means nothing. I want you; you want me. I’m not taking anything from Grace. Please don’t think that. It’s important to me." He settled himself straddling Ryan’s lap, not putting his entire weight down as he cradled Ryan’s face between his hands. Planting small kisses on his forehead, eyelids, nose, cheeks and finally his lips, Henri kept talking sliding in and out of French, English and Spanish, murmuring words Ryan could no longer truly hear.

  Ryan grasped the man’s bare, muscular ass and pulled him down, demanding contact. The sensation of skin on skin, their cocks rubbing against each other, was so intense, Ryan felt some sort of strange emotion just behind his eyes. Henri broke their kiss again and slid down Ryan’s body. Their sweat gave the air an amazing tang of sensuality. Henri kept going until he was positioned between Ryan’s knees. Eyes bright, breathing quick, he kept his gaze on Ryan’s as he slid his full lips around his cock. Ryan’s back arched as he felt his lenght slide down the other man’s throat in an instant.

  Henri released him then, using extreme suction just against the head, flicking a tongue around the sensitive edges. Ryan thrust forward, needing more. A finger pressed down on his perineum, building pressure, making Ryan grunt and thrust faster into Henri’s mouth. Suddenly, Henri released his cock and took his finger away leaving Ryan moaning with need. He took his cock in his hand and pulled Henri up, needing his mouth again, needing to come so hard he felt tears forming behind his eyes.

  Henri stood, his amazing thickness pressed against his stomach. Ryan moved forward on the couch transfixed by the sight, and grasped it, putting his lips over the huge head, tasting the man’s cum, licking it up and swallowing, making his own need ever greater. He grabbed himself as he sucked, unable to take Henri’s thickness all the way in his mouth. He felt hands in his hair, sensed the other man’s hips moving, felt the cock between his lips flex and grow even harder. Ryan reached around and clutched Henri’s ass, groaning as his own cock pulsed, aching with the unmet need to climax.

  "Ahhh, God." Henri pulled out of Ryan’s mouth and yanked the man to his feet. Their tongues clashed as strong bodies met, arms and legs with no beginning or end. Ryan tried to retain control. He knew how to hold back but suddenly, he didn’t want to.

  "I want you to fuck me," Henri growled in his ear. "Right now. Please.” Ryan groaned as Henri reached into a drawer near the couch. Pulling out a square condom packet and a tube of lubrication, he tore it open with his teeth and stretched the thin latex down over Ryan’s aching cock. The rolling sensation of Henri’s fingers nearly made Ryan come in his hand. He hissed and yanked the lube from Henri, taking a hand full and rubbing it over himself.

  "And me, right here," Henri whispered, taking Ryan’s hand and pressing it to his tight anus. Ryan used a forefinger to rub the lube around the other man’s waiting body, dipping in, the sensation thrilling. He’d had a few women willing to do this, including Grace. But this? This was something else entirely. The man’s hard muscles and lean, sharp body was nothing like a woman’s soft curves and his need to posses it was overwhelming, mind blowing. Ryan couldn’t wait another minute. He positioned himself at Henri’s ass, grasped his hips and pressed forward, getting past the tight ring of resistance as Henri arched his back and bent over the chair nearest the fireplace.

  "Oh Jesus," Ryan moaned as he felt the tip of his cock touch something small, pearl-like. He shoved in further, burying himself, his balls pressed up against Henri’s body. He grabbed Henri’s hip with one hand and shoulder with the other, needing more contact.

  "Fuck me, Ryan. Take me however you want."

  Ryan eased back, pulling himself nearly free of Henri’s body but letting the head of his cock stay inside, squeezed tight by the man’s muscles. The amazing view of this, of his own cock fucking this man’s ass, was the most erotic thing he’d ever seen. He shoved in again, pulled out, shoved in again, fisting one hand in Henri’s silky black hair, pulling his head back.

  "Damn, I’m gonna blow, baby," Henri grunted, yelling out in French as Ryan felt that small bud near the tip of his cock deep inside the man pulse, sensed Henri’s hips buck as he released, coating the chair as Ryan fucked him. Ryan put both hands on Henri’s hips and held him tight as his own orgasm rolled up from somewhere deep and possessed him, made him cry out, fucking hard and fast. Until at last sweet release as his vision flashed white then dark again as he emptied himself inside Henri’s body.

  "Christ," Ryan draped himself over Henri’s dark, sweat slicked back, licking and tasting the salty essence. Henri stood, pulling Ryan’s arms around him, their bodies still joined. Ryan’s pressed his face to the other man’s hair, taking deep breaths of all that was Henri.

  A terrifying sensation enveloped him when he remembered Henri’s words. "This means nothing," but Ryan knew it had to him. He loved his wife with every fiber of his being, but now he also knew he very possibly loved this man. And he was damned to the depths of hell if he knew what to do about it.

  ****

  Henri sat and watched Ryan sleep. The sunlight streamed through his bedroom window, picking up the highlights in the other man’s hair, the light blond fuzz that covered his sprawled legs, taking up most of the room in his bed. His heart clenched. What had he done?

  Guilty of taking on the man’s resistance as a challenge at first, having sensed Ryan was struck by a strange attraction to him, Henri convinced himself it was just a one night stand. The man was an Adonis, a pure alpha male of the American variety, delicious clothed and even more so nude, as he was now, a white sheet wrapped around his waist covering a growing erection that made Henri’s own cock harden instantly.

  Merde.

  Henri leapt from the bed and busied himself in the kitchen, the familiarity of the activity soothing his fevered brain. If anyone asked him, he would have said he already loved Ryan Sullivan. Loved him the moment he saw him. But the strange part was, he was half in love with Grace as well, having read about her for weeks and now, knowing so much more about her from her husband. Henri ran a hand over his eyes. This had the potential to be an amazing journey or a truly horrible mistake. Henri just wasn’t sure which one.

  When Ryan wrapped strong arms around him from behind, pressing his hard cock against Henri’s bare back, Henri sighed, turned and wrapped his arms around his lover’s neck.

  "Means nothing, eh?" Ryan’s voice was deep, gravelly, and it sent a chill down Henri’s spine.

  "Oh, let’s try again. Then I’ll let you know." He sighed then covered Ryan’s lips with his.

  Chapter Six

  One Year Later

  Grace sat in the back of the limo, rumpled, hot and exhausted. Between a flight delay from Detroit to Las Vegas and the news that her husband was going to be "at least a day" meeting her, she was well and truly pissed. Sighing deeply and leaning back into the plush leather, Grace let the cool hiss of air-conditioning calm her. A conveniently situated bottle of beer tempted her from the iced container at her knees so she grabbed it, noting it was her favorite IPA before consuming nearly half of it in one gulp. The malty hopped concoction soothed her throat and settled her nerves.

  It was a short
ride from the Vegas airport to the Aria, so Grace skipped her usual smart phone email surfing in favor of just staring out of the window at the shimmering heat of the desert. Sipping at her beer, she tried to relax but images from the previous month of touring and trying to avoid communication with Ryan wouldn’t allow it.

  She shut her eyes against the glare outside the window as the car turned the corner pointing them towards The Strip. Grace loved Vegas and Ryan knew it. Something about its over-the-top, anything-goes vibe got to her, made her want to skinny dip, gamble and dance in clubs with strangers, actions completely outside the realm of her basic reality. Ryan loved watching her cut loose and she was thankful he arranged this trip on the heels of her latest round of interviews and book signings. But the fact he’d spent the last several weeks avoiding her hadn't escaped her notice.

  She smiled to herself, picturing them the last time they’d stayed here. As a sought-after hotel and resort consultant, Ryan was able to command seats at the best restaurants and front row tickets to sold out shows. The parties they attended were full of A-list celebrities, many of the females getting one look at her six-foot-six Nordic god of a husband before casting a "what the hell" glance her direction. And the man knew how to work a room. But right now, settling for some serious one-on-one time with him was her goal, something they’d been missing for a while which was making her suspicious and angry.

  "Ma’am," the voice over the intercom made her jump and spill beer in her lap.

  "Shit! What?" Grace grabbed some tissues to sop up the amber liquid slowly staining her wrinkled linen pants.

  "Mister Sullivan told me to tell y," the voice hesitated.

  "Why can’t Mister Sullivan tell me himself?"

  "Well, he, um, told me this morning before you arrived. That you should open the present in the center console right before we got to the Aria."