Clusterpuck (Vegas Crush #9)

8. Speaking of Views

8 /

speaking of views

Tripp

I plop down on the uncomfortable couch in my pre-furnished, thirteen-hundred-square-foot abode, cracking open a can of beer, ready to veg out to some North Woods Law .

The cottage I’m renting is small, but it came furnished and it’s decent for the price. Situated at the end of a private drive on a larger property, it’s nothing spectacular but it does have a secured place to park my Porsche, and that sold it for me. It’s a bit of a drive from the arena, but that’s okay. The closer I am to the action, the more I have to interact with people. And people are mostly annoying, so this works.

Also, I’m a cheap-ass. And this is a one-year stint.

In short, there is no reason to invest any more than necessary into my housing situation. Maybe someday I’ll buy a sweet house on a beach somewhere, secluded and sunset-facing. I’ve got the money, and I can’t take it with me. For now, though, it’s an okay, pocket-sized, two-bedroom cottage with a detached garage surrounded by palms and with an unremarkable view.

Speaking of views. Lila Marchmont-Terry is really something to look at in a bikini. She’s always been cute, with her upturned nose and her big, brown eyes. But now? Flaming. Hot. I could get lost in her curves and probably spend a day just playing with her tits. And when she wrapped her legs over my shoulders for the chicken fight, it was all I could do to avoid an explosion knowing only a sliver of fabric separated her pussy from my skin.

I just about murdered that kid from the taxi squad for trying to manhandle her. Of course, I got the feminist smack-down for stepping in, but what the fuck do I care. That kid is having no piece of Lila on my watch. No. Chance. I know I can’t have her—she wouldn’t want me anyway—but he can’t have her, either. If I get my way, she’ll die alone with twelve cats, an octogenarian virgin, untouched by man.

Why is it that I’m so turned on by a woman who clearly can’t stand me? And who is far too young for me. She just finished college. Her life as an adult is literally just beginning, and I’m about ready to retire.

Still, my mind flits right back to the sight of her walking toward me in that pink flowered bikini that showed off every single curve on that luscious body in living color. I’d have to cut out my own eyes to stop looking, my mind memorizing every inch of her, imagining all the things I could do if I had her naked.

I let out a groan of frustration and shoot up off the couch. I can’t just sit here thinking about a woman I shouldn’t want and can’t have. Every time I see her, this is what happens. I spend time fantasizing and then have to push all those forbidden thoughts away, reminding myself of the thousand reasons my little crush on her needs to fuck on off into the Vegas sunset.

Thankfully, there’s still plenty of daylight left. With energy to burn, I dress for a run. I’ve heard great things about the trails up at the Overlook and decide to check it out, checking my phone for directions before grabbing my car keys and hitting my running playlist for my earbuds.

As I run, Nine Inch Nails’ “Closer” comes on, the sex-fueled, semi-violent lyrics filling my head as the heavy electronic beat propels me to run faster and harder. So much for getting my mind off all the things I’d love to do to Lila Marchmont-Terry.

I run and run, making myself focus only on the ground beneath my feet, on every step I take, on each breath that fills my lungs. This is my meditation. This is my Zen. As I hit the trail, I take in my surroundings, the dusty desert terrain, the shrinking view of the city growing smaller as the trail takes me higher. At the top, I stop for a break, sitting down in the dirt, watching the city below.

There are tourists out here, other runners, hikers. They pause and take selfies, then move on. When someone sits down a couple of feet away from me, I turn to glare, pissed that they would sit so close when there is clearly so much space.

But then I realize it’s Lila.

At first, I think maybe I’m dehydrated and hallucinating. When she raises her hand in greeting, I realize she is real.

“Fancy meeting you here,” she says breathily, her chest rising and falling, sweat pooling between her breasts, carefully contained in a running top.

“Weird meeting you up here,” I reply. “What brings you out this way?”

“Same as you, I suspect.” She looks at her fitness watch. “Running off some excess energy.”

“I heard this trail was kind of a tourist dump, so of course I had to check it out.”

“I’ve been up here many times to run and hike,” she says, looking out at the view. “I like it up here. But you’re right, it can get busy, especially at night when people come out to see the city lights.”

We sit companionably for a moment before she adds, “Most of Las Vegas is a tourist dump, by the way. So…”

“I haven’t seen much of it yet, to be honest.”

“Now I feel compelled to offer you a tour or something,” she says after a moment.

“Well, your enthusiasm at that prospect sure gets me excited.”

Lila laughs at my comment, and it literally makes my heart skip around in my chest. Her smile is…something else.

“I’m sorry,” she’s saying. Did she say something before? If she did I didn’t hear because I was thinking about how beautiful she is.

I really need to get away from Lila. “Sorry for what?” I ask dumbly.

She laughs again. “For being an ass. I’d be happy to show you around town sometime. If you’d like.”

“You’re as much of a newbie as I am, Liles.”

“Ah, but you forget I come here much more often since my grandfather lives here. I’ve been coming here for ten years.”

Saying that reminds me that ten years ago was when Lila was just thirteen. Thirteen to my twenty-six. I was a grown-ass man, and she was barely a teenager.

I am too fucking old for her.

And every single time, I tell myself that? It’s like getting an ice bucket challenge dumped on me.

“I know you’re all alone here,” she’s saying. “It’s hard to acclimate to a new place where you don’t know anyone.”

“I know you, Lila.”

“Well, sure, and you know Max, but I mean…friends. You and I don’t—we don’t really have much in common, I don’t think?” It’s both a statement and a question. “I mean, we’ve known each other a long time, but I don’t think our interests probably align.”

I shake my head. “Venus and Mars.”

Lila cocks her head, brows knitting together in confusion.

“There’s a book.” Then I shake my head again. “Never mind.”

“Well, just let me know if you want to tour around.”

I give her a flat smile, no teeth. “I’m fine being alone. I’ll find my way; don’t worry your pretty little head about my crusty old ass.”

Lila frowns. “You really need to move into the twenty-first century. Get your time machine out and come on forward.”

“What did I say now that offended the princess?”

“Pretty little head? Princess? Condescending much?”

“Well, your head is pretty,” I answer, grinning.

“Well, yours is big, not little.” She tries to swallow back a grin but misses the mark.

“You’re right. It’s very, very big.”

“According to what standard?” she asks.

“All of them.” I cock an eyebrow at her. “All. Of. Them.”

She stares at me, then squirms a bit, clearing her throat. “Well, then, I’m happy the team found a helmet that fits you.”

This makes me laugh. “You are a piece of work, Liles.” I push myself up and dust off the seat of my shorts. “But I’d better get back before dark. Don’t want to get lost and eaten by a coyote.”

When I hold out a hand to help her up, I half expect her to decline. But she doesn’t, and when she grabs my hand, my assistance comes with slightly too much force. She crashes into my chest, overcorrects, and stumbles backward. My arm slips around her waist to keep her from falling, and suddenly we’re face-to-face.

I’m sure she’s about to push me away, to tell me she didn’t need saving. I’m certain she’s about to tell me to take my hands off her to push me away again.

Please don’t push me away.

But even just one moment of holding her like this, of being this close to her, will come at a cost. My cock twitching beneath my shorts is the surefire sign that I need to let her go.

Like, forever.