Afterburn Read online

  The normal Rina, the perfect Rina, the live-by-the-code-of-military-conduct Rina wouldn’t approve. But she’d gotten lost somewhere tonight and the adventurous Rina wanted to feel the slide of Chase’s skin against her own.

  He looked down at her with heat-glazed eyes full of appreciation and the center of her stomach seemed to disappear. She had to look away. Either that or go up in flames in the middle of the Las Vegas sidewalk.

  A bright display of flashing colors caught Rina’s attention. Blinking neon wasn’t unusual, not on the strip, but the words in shiny pink were.

  Fake Vegas WeddingsPunk Your Friends and Family

  “Oh my God! How funny.”Tugging on his elbow, she headed straight for the sign, pulling him behind her. It was attached to a strip of shops. One of them was a tacky, touristy place where you could dress in a costume and have your picture taken. It was attached to a low-rent version of the obligatory Las Vegas wedding chapel.

  It was something she’d seen a thousand times. But this place was hocking a different angle. This place was for all the people who went on vacation with the ring of their family’s and friends’ warnings in their ears: Don’t you dare come back married.

  Through the window she could see an array of costumes—Southern belle hoop skirts, Confederate solider uniforms, pirate outfits, kilts. Throughout the room there were several sets to correspond with the outfits—an old-timey portrait backdrop, the bow of a ship, the jagged edge of highland mountains.

  And an arched white trellis covered with roses and a sign that read, Elvis Available Upon Request.

  “That’s so tacky.” She swirled around to face him, a huge smile on her face.

  “What? You don’t want Elvis at your wedding?”

  Rina scoffed. “I don’t think so.”

  Turning back, her hands splayed across the glass as she leaned in for a closer look. Chase bunched up behind her. She could feel the heat of him at her back, soaking through the satisfying haze of wine and her light cotton sweater.

  “Let’s do it.” His words rumbled low against her ear.

  “Do what?” She knew exactly what she wanted to do with him.

  “The Elvis wedding.”

  “What?” That wasn’t what she’d had in mind.

  “Come on. Marry the soldier before he goes to war.” Chase leaned down over her body as she watched his reflection in the glass. His bigger-than-life smile. That mischievous twinkle in his eyes. He was so different than she was. So…daring.

  She shouldn’t.

  His arms tightened around her waist, dragging their bodies closer together. Rina fought the urge to let herself lean against him, the desire to have him kiss along the nape of her neck. Tonight she’d left her hair uncharacteristically down. She always seemed to be in uniform, but the upswept, severe style required by the air force did have its advantages. Unconsciously, she dipped her head to the side, making her hair fall away.

  His breath caressed her exposed skin as his fingers brushed against the outside curve of her arm, sending a shudder down her spine.

  “It might be fun.” Her words sounded fast and shallow. Right now she’d agree to anything, if only he’d move closer.

  “Just promise me you won’t send the pictures to the General. I do not want to be responsible for his heart attack.”

  She laughed as his reflection in the window pulled a grimace. She could understand. It probably wouldn’t be good for his career to piss off a major general, even if he was stationed half the country away at Tyndall.

  “I promise.”

  Chase backed away, and Rina ducked under his arm as he held open the door for her. A bell rang out through the space. Within a minute a woman materialized from the back.

  “Can I help you?”

  Chase answered, “We’d like the wedding package please, complete with Elvis.”

  God, what was she doing? The thought of a wedding—even a joke wedding—was sending her heart rate skittering a little too fast.

  Most girls grew up with the fantasy of their wedding in their heads—white dresses, fragrant flowers, flickering candles. Not her. She’d grown up with the memories of her parents screaming, the experience of her mother’s funeral, the idea that two people could make each other so miserable they self-destructed…and took their child’s sense of security with them.

  “Just fill out these forms for me. Feel free to pick out a gown and tux from over there when you’re done.”

  The woman placed several pieces of paper before them. Rina stared down at the tiny boxes. The little lines wavered for a moment before straightening out again.

  Chase shifted closer, planting one foot between her own spread feet. The heat from his body fractured the thoughts racing through her head. He felt so good against her.

  What was she thinking about? Oh, the wedding. But it was just a joke. Nothing more. Besides. She was being reckless, fearless Rina for once.

  Looking down, she started to fill out the paperwork.

  “Constance. I didn’t realize your middle name was Constance.” His chest brushed against the curve of her back, his hand snaking around the circle of her waist to hold her flat against him. Her throat went tight at the sensation.

  “That’s because I don’t like it. My father picked it. It was my aunt’s name.” Her words were forced, breathy. She sounded like someone else, some seductive siren—someone she’d never been or could be.

  “You’re right. I like Sabrina much better.”

  “I don’t like Sabrina either…it was my mother’s middle name. No one calls me Sabrina.” Not since her mother had left when she was five. That’s when the General had begun to call her Rina.

  He stared down at her with a heat that had her knees melting out from under her. “Maybe someone should.”

  Thank God for the counter.

  Maybe she should take a step back before she jumped him right on top of the glass. That was taking reckless too far.

  “Done.” Smacking her pen on top of the papers, Rina turned and headed for the dresses hanging on the far wall. She needed to get away from him for a minute, to breathe some air that wasn’t permeated with Chase. What was wrong with her? She wasn’t the sort of woman to contemplate grabbing a man and devouring him in public.

  Whipping through the rack, she picked the first one that was her size, headed for the dressing room and pulled it on.

  Despite contorting herself into a pretzel, she could not get the zipper up. Yelling out, “Can you zip me,” she headed into the small room between the dressing areas, holding the strapless number to her chest.

  Chase walked out of the other side, dressed to kill from head to toe. The tux he wore might not have been designed specifically for him, but it came pretty damn close to fitting perfectly. Uniforms were great and all, but Rina had a thing for a man in a tux. For this man in a tux.

  Presenting her back to him, she held her breath, hoping to slow the rhythm of her roaring heart. He just stood there for several moments. She could feel the weight of his gaze on her back, traveling the length of her naked spine. Goose bumps ghosted up her skin. Beneath her shielding arm her nipples tightened and swelled.

  The soft tread of his feet on worn linoleum should have been a warning, but when his fingers touched the small of her back she jumped anyway. She gulped in a large lungful of air, too much, because it rushed straight to her head, making the room waver. A single finger trailed a featherlight line across the indentation at the base of her spine. It took her a minute to realize what he was doing, her brain having malfunctioned at the spike of electricity from his touch.

  “Somehow I didn’t take you for the fairy type.”

  Rina turned her head, knowing she couldn’t see the tiny picture tattooed on her lower back but trying anyway. Most of the time she forgot it was even there.

  “Bout of rebellion the year I graduated high school. It is a little fanciful for me, which is probably why I got it in the first place.”

  Chase took another step clo
ser, the heat of his body warming her skin.

  “Oh, I don’t know. You have a whimsical side. I’ve seen it.” His fingers trailed slowly up the curve of her spine. She felt the sting and sizzle at the apex of her thighs as his knuckles scraped over each bump and valley.

  “How many men have you let see—” his fingers moved down again, lightly brushing across the picture on her skin before dipping down into the still-open dress to brush the upper swell of her bottom “—that side of yourself?”

  Rina drew in a deep, ragged breath before answering, “Enough.”

  The woman bustled in. “Elvis is here, if you’re…I’m sorry.”

  “No. It’s fine. Just let me get this zipper.”

  Chase zipped her up before moving away. She wasn’t sure if it was relief or regret that washed through her. Probably a combination of both.

  2

  FOR A JOKE, their Elvis was seriously into his role. He didn’t break character once as the photographer posed them for several shots. In fact, he even insisted on reciting the marriage vows. Both Chase and Sabrina tried to explain it wasn’t necessary but the man didn’t pay attention. Finally, they just shrugged and played along.

  The whole thing was over in ten minutes. Sabrina giggled; it was a sound he hadn’t expected. It clashed with the polished exterior she showed the world. But after seeing the fanciful fairy on her back…maybe that carefree sound was more her than he’d ever realized. He’d always pictured her as studious, serious.But he’d instinctively known there was something beneath, something she wouldn’t let out…something she didn’t let free. He’d wanted so badly to rumple her up, to ruffle her calm facade. To leave her mouth swollen from kisses and her eyes bleary with desire just to prove to them both that the passion was there, waiting.

  He’d given in to the urge once. And it had been much more than he’d expected. Six years ago she’d taken things slowly—fighting the connection they both knew existed between them. And then she’d been gone.

  If the way she flirted, touched and looked at him tonight with those smoldering green eyes was anything to go by, Sabrina McAllister had changed. And she wasn’t fighting anything now. Pure animal lust shot straight to his groin at the thought.

  Elvis said, “You may kiss the bride, baby.” And Chase found himself indulging in a fantasy six years in the making—kissing Sabrina McAllister. The sensation was somewhere close to pulling a Split-S.

  The woman behind the counter handed them an envelope with several photographs. Chase paid for them—the damn things cost two hundred dollars. He hadn’t realized a joke could be so expensive. Although, he’d have paid a hell of a lot more than that for a chance to kiss her again.

  They walked back out into the night together as she looked at the pictures. They were hilarious. And she was beautiful. Sabrina laughed at the expression on Elvis’s face, flipping through them quickly. Until she reached the last one, the one of their kiss, and she seemed to still.

  The photographer was good. He’d captured every last speck of desire that had coursed through Chase’s lips and into Sabrina. Her body arched into the strength of his hold. Her fingers dug into the shoulders of his tux, drawing him closer. Just looking at the image fired his blood all over again.

  Rina stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, pulling him still beside her. The city bustled around them. Even at this late hour no one was ready to let the night go. He certainly wasn’t.

  Neither was she. Turning to face him, she said, “Kiss me again.”

  He didn’t need a second invitation. Wrapping his arms around her, Chase pulled their bodies close. The world moved on without them. People passed by, talking. Neon lights blinked on and off. And a blast of noise from a nightclub down the street burst into the silence that had surrounded them.

  But nothing mattered. Nothing except the feel of Sabrina against him. The heat of her lips beneath his. The heady scent of her, more intoxicating than the alcohol he’d drunk hours before.

  Her hands grabbed onto the nape of his neck and tugged, tugged harder, needing more.

  He obliged, opening his mouth wider, taking her in.

  After several moments Sabrina pulled back, staring up at him with passion-filled eyes. Her chest rose and fell against his own with each ragged breath. His arms tightened, wanting to hold her closer. Feel her closer.

  “Do you want to come back to my place?”

  Her words whispered against his skin, coaxing him to make the quick, easy decision. But there was nothing easy about Sabrina. And there had certainly never been anything easy about their…attraction. And the fact that he would be leaving in less than three days made this much more complicated than it should have been.

  Why could they never seem to get it right?

  “No.”

  Her body stiffened and she tried to pull away. Chase kept a tight hold on her, not willing to let her go a second time.

  “Since we’re playing at weddings I think maybe we should do it right. Wait here for me.”

  Walking into the MGM Grand, the nearest hotel, Chase quickly registered for a room, arranged for a bottle of champagne and a small white wedding cake to be delivered and then returned for Sabrina.

  He half expected her to be gone. But she wasn’t. In fact, he didn’t think she’d moved an inch from where he’d left her.

  Grabbing her, he placed a quick kiss to her lips but ended it before they could get sucked back into the jet wash of desire.

  “Come on.”

  Chase watched her as she walked through the darkened, gilt-edged lobby heading for the elevator doors. The sway of her hips, the fall of her hair across her back. The way she glanced furtively behind her, those green-and-gold-shot eyes full of sensual mischief.

  His body was taut, his hands curled into hard fists to keep from reaching for her in the middle of the packed lobby.

  They stepped onto the elevator with a handful of other guests, far too crowded for his happiness. If they’d been alone…

  His eyes roamed down the length of Sabrina’s body. His muscles tightened at the thought that in a few minutes she’d be his…after six long years of waiting.

  His eyes met hers in the reflection of the polished gold doors; it was wavy and imperfect but he could still see the flare of awareness in the eyes that watched him back. Her skin flushed a delicate pink and her breasts lifted on an intake of breath.

  A chime jolted him, the doors slid silently open and Chase realized they’d finally reached their floor. With a hushed sigh of thanks, he swooped in to grasp her waist and carried her along with him into the deserted hallway.

  He couldn’t keep himself from touching her any longer. His mouth found the edge of her jaw and nibbled. His hands tightened on her hips, pulling her back into the cradle of his body. And the scent of her, innocent and yet somehow heady, took over his senses.

  He opened their door, Sabrina eagerly pushing against it to get inside. The bed was twenty steps away but it might as well have been a football field. He’d waited long enough for her and he couldn’t wait anymore.

  Grabbing her by the waist, he pressed her back against the nearest wall, kicked the door shut behind them and sank his teeth into the curve of her neck. She whimpered but didn’t draw away. Instead, she arched higher, silently asking for more.

  Sabrina tore at his clothes, popping buttons and ripping at zippers. She was just as mindless and eager as he was. And that realization sent him over the edge of control.

  Tearing at the shoulders of her sweater, he relished the give of material as fastenings gave way and the cotton fell to the edges of her elbows.

  Her nails raked down the wall of his chest, sending his muscles dancing with pleasure. One of her legs wrapped around his hip as he trailed his mouth down the center of her body. She was soft and silky, feminine and perfect, a sharp contrast to the wild, burning urges coursing through his blood. He latched onto one erect nipple through the dark blue satin of her bra. He wanted to take it off, to feel her skin against his
tongue and lips. But that would have required letting her go.

  For now he contented himself with forcing the hem of her skirt up around her waist and finding the heat of her sex, hot, wet and swollen for him.

  He groaned, a tortured sound in the back of his throat that died as her hand wrapped tight around his aching cock.

  She squeezed and stroked, splintering his thoughts into mindless, numbing pieces. Her head rolled back against the wall as she arched into his own penetrating touches.

  Her eyes glittered at him, jagged and deep, an earthy green. Knowledge and possession. She knew exactly what she was doing to his body as her fingers teased his rigid flesh. She pulled a condom from somewhere, ripped open the package and rolled it with agonizing slowness down his throbbing cock.

  She was a witch. There was no denying it. He’d never been this hard, this delirious, this lost in his life.

  But he had power of his own, a confidence that he could bring her to her knees with a single-minded assault on her senses. He’d seen her reaction to him, the way her eyes had watched him in the reflection of that elevator. He knew they’d had a connection six years ago…and it had only gotten stronger.

  His thumb rolled against her clit as his fingers worked the sweet spot hidden inside her body. Her breath caught in her throat, finally releasing in a stuttered moan.

  Her fist tightened around him and her caresses increased to a delirious rhythm.

  “Not yet. Not yet.” He wanted this moment to last longer. He’d waited too long for it to be over in a frenzied rush.

  “No. Now, Chase. Now.”

  Her panted plea was his undoing. Without another thought, he thrust inside her, relishing the tight, wet feel of sliding home.

  Her body tensed for half a breath before going liquid in his arms. She wrapped her ankles around his back, locking them both in place. Her heels dug into his thighs spurring him on to a quicker pace.