Maybe Next Time (Vegas Nights, #1)

by Christina C. Jones

When I got to the sink to wash my hands, there was another surprise waiting for me in the mirror. A satin bonnet, covering my hair. My mouth gaped open as I used a soaking wet hand to pull it off–thank God it wasn’t a mess underneath.

he put a bonnet on her when she fell asleep. i-...

I shouldn’t have been surprised to see Denver strolling into the room, a pair of linen pants slung low around his waist, wearing nothing else. Holding a tray decked out with breakfast offerings, emanating a smell that made my empty stomach rumble. “You have got to be hungry, Sleeping Beauty,” he teased,

“Kenni… you can stand there being difficult, pretending to be impenetrable, all you want. But I promise you, sweetheart… we aren’t leaving this place until this shit is worked out.” He stood, stalking toward me with all the dark authority of a panther, stopping with barely an inch between us. “You do whatever you need to do, just know–I ain’t going nowhere.”

Kensa Hamilton was not a woman who could be forced into much of anything–subtlety would be required. A little… finesse. “What the fuck are you looking at me like that for?” Okay. A lot of finesse.

“It’s not that easy.” “But it could be.” He tipped his head, leaning in to press a kiss against my lips. “I love you, Kensa. Anything you want from me–anything. Sweetheart, all you’ve gotta do is say it. It’s yours.”