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ass, then by all means he’d do it. She should be more than happy to stay home and play wifey.
    And then, as son-in-law to the Summerses, he’d be welcomed into the fold of their society. A place that not even his status as a celebrity had been able to buy.
    Gordon stood and walked to the window, jerking the curtains back and looking out over the Strip.
    He had to get Brandy back. He would. He just had to find her first.
     
    God, what the hell had made him do it? Marco shook his head as they walked down the street. What had made him kiss the choir teacher like he was some teenager in heat? It wasn’t as if she was dressed in some sexy outfit that fried his mind. She was wearing a shirt with a cat on it, for Christ’s sake. It was so shapeless that he still had no idea what her breasts might be like. He knew what her hips and ass felt like, though.
    Do. Not. Go. There .
    Damn, what a mess. He’d lost all reason when Brandy had stared up at him with a helpless vulnerability in those baby blues.
    Don’t make this into something romantic . It’s nothing but you needing to get laid . It was just six months without sex doing this to him. Made him want to sleep with any available woman—didn’t matter if she was a stripper or a choir teacher.
    Even as he thought it, his gut tightened and he knew he was spouting off bullshit in his head.
    Realizing they’d been walking down the Strip with no destination, he steered them toward a restaurant in another casino.
    A hostess sat them down in a dark corner, in a booth that was far too romantic for his taste.
    He couldn’t help but take a moment to stare at Brandy who sat flipping through the menu; her lips still swollen from his kiss and her cheeks flushed.
    She’d been right when she’d said that she wasn’t his type. His type gravitated toward tall, skinny blondes who didn’t blush at the mention of sex. Brandy was too conservative…too much of a good girl. She was everything he didn’t want. So what had come over him?
    The waitress arrived to take their order. Brandy didn’t even bother with real food, but went straight for the dessert. Chocolate cheesecake and wine. What kind of dinner was that?
    He, on the other hand, was starving. He’d left work without grabbing food, thinking he’d toss a steak on the barbecue once he got home. But Brandy had thrown a kink in that plan.
    They sat in silence until the food came. She seemed to be off in her own little world, anyway. Understandable, since she probably had a dozen things occupying her thoughts.
    When the food arrived he dug into his greasy burger, his awareness of the woman across from him diminishing some. He was almost able to stop thinking of her as the woman he’d just shared an insanely hot kiss with, and instead went back to thinking of her as the choir teacher in a cat shirt.
    Then she slid her fork into the cheesecake and lifted a bite to her lips. With her eyes closed, she began emitting the most seductive, orgasmic noises as she took a bite.
    “This is good,” she said, her fork diving back down for another bite. “This is really good. I needed this.”
    Did it make him an asshole for thinking she needed a whole lot more than cheesecake? She needed to get laid, and not by some dumbass named Gordon.
    “Did you want some wine?” she asked.
    Marco blinked. “Wine?”
    “You were just staring at my wineglass, and I thought you might have wanted some.”
    Actually , he thought, I was staring at your breasts behind the wineglass. Were they big or small? It was the damn mystery of the night.
    “No, thanks.” He gave her a brief smile and picked up a fry.
    “Can I have one?”
    He looked down at his dwindling fry supply, ready to protest, but she’d already picked up a fry and proceeded to eat it, savoring each bite as erotically as she had the cheesecake. Was she doing it on purpose? No. That would have been about as likely as Brandy having actually been a stripper.
    “So where do we go from here?”