After meeting in South America, Nina Taylor follows up-and-coming Hollywood actor James Saylor back to LA. As their relationship intensifies, they hot foot it to Las Vegas, where they spontaneously marry. The next morning, however, reality sets in.
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I felt a little like Bonnie and Clyde; I was Faye Dunaway, he was Warren Beatty. We were partners in crime the second we got into the car and left Malibu, driving the I-15 N for almost five hours, loving the freedom of getting away from James' Hollywood team. Brian, Caylee and Gigi had all tried to get in touch with James, ringing him constantly, but he ignored their calls, preferring to join me in belting out some road trip worthy songs.
When James suggested going to Vegas, I wasn't really sold on the idea but having spent almost a week cooped up at his house, I needed the break. When we were in California, there was that constant threat that we'd be pictured together but in the Nevada desert, there wasn't any paparazzi to stalk us, meaning we could go out, hold hands and kiss and not have to care about it being posted on TMZ's website. I could just picture the headlines if that were to happen.
Despite the trip being last minute, we managed to get a room at the Bellagio, not that the Lakeview Suit was a 'room.' With views of Caesar's, the Eiffel Tower and the famous fountains, this room was practically a palace and it was our for the next three nights. James charged the room to one of his cards, insisting that the trip was a treat and no expenses would be spared, so he didn't want to see me pay for a thing. I argued with him, telling him that I could pay my share. He wouldn't listen.
Once we were settled into the room, the realisation that we were in Vegas dawned upon us and we burst out laughing at how ridiculous this all was. Nevertheless, we were here and we were going to have fun. Changing into something that wasn't ripped jeans and a t-shirt, James and I got ready to hit Vegas, heading to every spot that the concierge told us we should see. We laughed at the anonymity afforded to us here, spending hours on the Strip while everyone just passed us by. We got last minute tickets to Cirque du Soleil and after the show, we visited the many replicas of famous landmarks that were in Vegas- the Egyptian pyramid, Venice's Grand Canel (we even went on a Gondola ride), and finally the Statue of Liberty before heading back to the Eiffel Tower just shy of midnight.
As we watched the last performance of the dancing fountains, James took my hand in his and asked me to dance to the song This Kiss by Faith Hill. Taking his hand, we swayed and twirled for the three minutes or so that the performance lasted before James pulled me into his chest and kissed me, intoxicating me the second his lips touched mine.
"Thank you," he whispered as he broke our kiss.
"For?"
He smiled. "Everything."
Wrapping his arm around my shoulders, James and I walked back to the hotel, each grinning like an idiot for whatever reason. We giggled like kids whenever we caught the other staring, blushing and turning away, pretending that it never happened. The lift ride up to our floor was thick with sexual tension; I could feel it and no doubt James could feel it, too. My breathing became hot and heavy, chest practically heaving from the desire to rip James' clothes off, and throat becoming dry despite my thirst for him. It was a strange sensation but not one that I was trying to fight.
Silently, we both knew what was about to happen, which is why our strides back to the room were fast-paced. I swear, we made Usain Bolt look slow. James keyed the door open, his hands going to my waist as he pulled me inside and slamming his lips against mine all before the door slammed shut behind us. Frantically, we battled each other for dominance, him to control the kiss, me to take his clothes off. Stumbling around the room, we bumped into every piece of furniture, giggling between the screeches of 'ow' and the desperate need to taste each other. We must have looked like two horny teenagers, which we were but, you know...
The need for words was gone and each time either of us tried to speak, the other knew exactly how to shut them up- by kissing. Soon enough, I had James practically naked- his boxers the last item remaining- and I was stood before him in my dress, feeling a mixture of nerves and excitement. Pushing him to sit on the edge of the bed, I undid the buttons on my dress, revealing the safe-choice black bra I wore. Had I known this was how the evening would end, I'd have at least chosen the lace lingerie I'd brought with me.
James' eyes never left my hands as I stripped in front of him. When I had the last button undone, I skimmed the thin straps over my shoulders, tickle past my inner elbows and slide off my wrists, until the dress fell, fabric pooling at my feet. The self-conscious part of me wanted to wrap my arms around my body, too shy to let James see but then, from the lust I saw in his eyes, he was enjoying what was on display.
Reaching out for my hand, he tugged me closer until I was stood between his legs. His hands caressed my skin, sending shivers down my spine. Leaning my head back, I struggled to stifle a moan when I felt his hot breath tickle my stomach, a wet kiss being planted just left of my belly button. Curling my fingers into his hair, I was vaguely aware that I was past the point of no return, not that my inner-woman cared.
She had a one-way ticket to Hell and she was going to enjoy every single second of it.
