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sense of wellbeing that made her sigh in contentment. It felt as if they were ballroom dancers who knew each other’s bodies as well as they knew their own, and the sex was like a routine they’d rehearsed over and over until it was flawless and as innate as breathing.
    “I wish we could stay like this forever,” she said, reaching back and caressing his cheek.
    He nuzzled the back of her neck, sending a wave of shivers down her spine. “That food did rev me up again, but not quite that much,” he said with a soft chuckle.
    “Slacker.” She pinched his earlobe and he laughed.
    Thirty-four floors below, people bustled among the shrill shrieks and beeps of the casino while in Tucker’s room only gentle murmurs of pleasure and the soft shush of sheets could be heard. For a while, they didn’t speak, just enjoying each other and the easy rhythm. Tucker caressed her stomach, her breasts, her face as he rocked against her and Mariah slid her hand along his hip, occasionally squeezing his ass as he thrust. But eventually, the leisurely pace gave way to a need for more, and Tucker picked up speed. The steely arm he had wrapped around her waist pulled tighter. He pumped his hips faster and with more force.
    Mariah arched her back, meeting his thrusts and moaning. This all seemed so surreal. She’d replayed that night with Tucker so many times in her head. She’d embellished it, changed it around, spun it into scenarios she’d be embarrassed to admit to, but having him here in the flesh surpassed all of that. Sure, in her fantasies she could make him do and say whatever she wanted, but the reality of having him initiate things, respond to her of his own free will, coerce her with that open, quirky grin he had…nothing could beat that.
    She abandoned herself to the feelings building inside her. Their bodies were slick with sweat and he was grunting in her ear as he thrust harder and faster. Tucker bent her forward, then grabbed her hips and used his arms to hold her immobile as he rammed himself into her. Mariah gasped for breath. The pleasure quickly surged, then crested, and she shuddered violently as she came, her back arching, every muscle going taut. Tucker let go too. His hoarse cry echoed in the room as he drove into her one last time.
    A few moments later as the last vestiges of her climax fluttered away, Mariah tried to catch her breath. Her skin felt suddenly cool from perspiration, but Tucker pulled her gently toward him until she felt his warm chest pressed against her back.
    He kissed her shoulder. “Feel good?” he asked.
    “Mmm. Better than good.”
    “I’ll never be able to look at chocolate mousse without thinking of you.” His arm tightened around her.
    Mariah gave herself a mental high-five. Her feminine pride would live on that compliment long after Tucker was gone.
    Still, maybe after all this was over, she’d FedEx some mousse to him every year just to remind him.
    * * * * *
     
    The next morning, Mariah lay content in the massive bed with Tucker spooned against her back again, one of his arms around her waist and a hand clasping her breast. She’d half-believed that she was going to wake up and find it was all some dream, like in the movies, but no. The sunlight on her face was real. The tenderness between her legs was real. Moreover, the growing hardness of Tucker’s cock against her butt was real.
    “Hey, Cinderella, you’re still here.” Brushing a thumb back and forth over her nipple, he nuzzled her neck with feathery kisses.
    “I hope you don’t mind.”
    “Mind? Hell no. I was worried that I was going to wake up this morning alone with your shoe. I hope you don’t mind this ,” he said with slight shift of his hips. “It’s a guy thing we can’t control.”
    “I know,” she said with a chuckle.
    He sucked her earlobe into his mouth and whispered in her ear. “But, you know, if you wanna…”
    As his hand closed more tightly around her breast, an irresistible wave of