One Night in Vegas (Entangled Lovestruck) (Gambling Hearts) by C. M. Stone

and do things we could have done back at your house.”
    “If I’d known you wanted to do this at my house, I never would have left.”
    She drew away again, slipping out from between him and the truck. Before he could protest, she’d pulled herself up onto the bumper and climbed into the back of the truck. “It’s almost midnight. Do you want champagne?”
    He wondered for a moment if it would be possible to climb into the truck when he was aching for her so badly. Rather than test it, he opened the gate and hopped up with far less effort. “I think you might be trying to kill me.”
    “Maybe. You know, I’m a terrible tease.”
    He got the champagne out of the cooler and worked the cork free while she was laying out the sleeping bags on the bottom of the truck bed. Well, at least if he died of blue balls he’d be fairly comfortable, he mused. He passed her one of the champagne flutes he’d brought and filled his own before setting the bottle aside. Once she had the sleeping bags arranged, he settled down to sit beside her.
    “How long until midnight?”
    She checked the time on her phone. “We’ve got three minutes.”

Chapter Seven
    As soon as Eliza looked up from her phone she found Chris leaning in again. He was impossible to resist, despite her best efforts. She met him halfway to give in to the kiss and sighed. Every brush of his lips set off a small explosion of nerves. Her heart was pounding as he pulled her against him. Each time his arms came around her, she was sure she was going to melt into a puddle. There couldn’t be anything in the world more tempting than his touch.
    They were alone on an adventure inthe middle of nowhere, just like it had been the first time she kissed him. Desert surrounded them instead of the Mount Charleston forest, but the similarities were close enough to make her heart ache until she pushed the thought aside. Dwelling on that pain would do her no good. She couldn’t keep losing him, because she’d never had him. Enjoying what they had, in whatever capacity he was willing to share himself, was better than mourning everything she lacked.
    His lips moved back to her ear and the tickling heat of his breath there made her shudder, before his teeth tugged on her earlobe and drew the soft flesh between his lips, tearing a moan from her throat. Just holding her champagne without spilling it was nearly too much for her as his delicate onslaught continued.
    She felt his hand moving inside her jacket again, resting at her stomach. Like a sunflower seeking out the sun, she arched her body forward into his touch. Soon his hand was working up higher until it finally cupped her breast through her sweater.
    “God, Eliza.” He kissed down the side of her neck, his breath warm on her skin.
    His thumb traced her nipple through the fabric and she whimpered, biting down on her bottom lip in an attempt to stay quiet. But what use was there in being quiet? They were alone in the middle of nowhere. Yet being too vocal, too obvious in her interest, seemed as if it was just opening herself up for humiliation. It was why teasing and avoiding intimacy was so much easier and safer than simply giving in to his earlier touches.
    After a moment his hand slid back down her body to slip under her sweater. The callused fingers felt cool from the night air when they first touched her skin, but the chill faded quickly as his hand moved higher, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. His hand slipped under the cup of her bra and kneaded the soft mound of her breast.
    Her heart was pounding in her ears, her entire body burning with need. She shifted closer to him and ducked down to kiss along his throat, feeling the light scrape of stubble against her lips. He had a clean, masculine spice to his scent, with just the faint earthiness of his horses lingering.
    A distant popping sound caught her attention and she drew back from him breathlessly to look down into the valley. Fireworks were exploding over the