Hot Vegas Nights Page 5

  “It was nice meeting you,” Clara says, attempting to turn around and wave.

  “It was nice meeting you, too,” Axel says as I reach the door.

  “Stay away from the alcohol,” Damien says and I can’t help but smile at Clara’s annoyed sniff.

  “Sorry about that. My brothers didn’t get the civilized gene when we were born.”

  “It’s fine. They made my mortification bearable.”

  “Mortification?”

  “Yeah, I let my stepsister and her friends get to me, drank way more than I could handle, puked in front of you and your brothers, and passed out in a stranger’s bed. Everything I did last night was taught in, ‘How Not To Party In Vegas 101.’”

  I grin. “It wasn’t all that bad. Big Willie’s is known for looking out for its clients. Chuck’s the best bouncer there is and he would’ve made sure you got home safe. And don’t forget I spent three hours with your sister and her friends. I can tell you I wouldn’t have been able to handle fifteen minutes if I wasn’t being paid.”

  Clara smiles wide, but turns to stare out the window so I can only see half of her upturned mouth. “Ugh, I just want to go home, shower, and pass out in my bed.”

  “You will get all of that after I make sure you eat something.”

  “Thanks, but I’m not hungry.”

  “Which is exactly why you need to eat. I promise you’ll feel a lot better, and you’ll be able to sleep instead of worrying about your stomach revolting on you.” And I don’t want her to leave just yet. I hate to admit it, but I’m kind of enjoying her company.

  I pull into a hole in the wall diner. Clara doesn’t make any attempt to get out of the car. Her face is even paler than when she woke up. She needs food. And a bed. And me in the bed with her. Ok, seriously, my thoughts need to stop.

  “I’ll be right back.” I hurry into the diner and order her food to go. I keep wondering why I feel the need to take care of her, but I can’t figure it out. This isn’t my MO. Normally, I satisfy my woman of the night in bed, and send her on her merry way. Getting pancakes to go is new to me. Also, cuddling her while she slept, is not me. And I’m keeping that little gem to myself because if my brothers find out, they’d pick on me for days.

  Clara gives a relieved sigh when I pull into her lush townhouse.

  “How are you going to get into your place?” I ask, remembering she doesn’t have any of her personal belongings.

  “Maureen lives next door. My dad bought her the unit next to me when he married her mother.”

  “Do you want me to come with you?” Once again I should just give her a nod and back my car the hell up without a single glance in my rearview mirror. This is more than I do for any of the women I take home, and all I did was cuddle her while making sure she was hydrated.

  Am I losing my touch?

  “No, I’m just going to get my stuff from her and go to bed.”

  “Make sure you eat first.”

  “Thanks, Ben.” For a second her eyes hold something in them like honesty. She is thankful for my help last night, which makes me want to be more of a gentleman in her presence. Even though the need to sleep with her is strong, I won’t let those thoughts get in the way of just being there for her.

  Now I think my head needs to be mentally examined. Something’s wrong with me.

  I wait until her sister thrusts her purse into her hands, slamming the door in her face. Clara waves at me as she reaches in her purse pulling out her keys, and yet I still stay until she closes the door behind her.

  I finally pull away, knowing if I stay one second longer I can have stalker charges pending against me. There’s just something different about her that I can’t quite figure out.

  * * *

  “Are you going to take all the hot ones?” Rick’s voice whines, and I glance in his direction. I crack a very fake smile that has Axel and Damien scrutinizing me.

  Damn those triplet senses.

  They’re almost like spidey senses, but a million times worse. Sometimes I think they know exactly what I’m thinking.

  And I swear they know Clara affected me in some way even I don’t know how.

  Maybe they do.

  Maybe I should ask.

  Maybe I should forget about her, and focus on work.

  “Sorry, dude. I can’t help it if they all want me.” I shrug and walk toward the peephole. I catch a raven-haired woman making my breath catch. It’s her.

  She turns around and real disappointment flows through me at the fact it’s not Clara.

  What the fuck is wrong with me?

  Earlier today, when I arrived home from taking Clara home, Axel and Damien started in on me, asking if I’d lost all of my charm. Something telling must have been on my face because their teasing ceased and they haven’t said anything to me about Clara for the rest of the day.

  Yet, as soon as we walked into the club, I made it my mission to get all the attention from women I could, wanting to purge Clara from my mind. A redhead slipped her number into my shorts, and a blonde with her twin sister rubbed up against me, and a brunette who whispered a very interesting talent into my ear—I could have any of them. If I wanted.

  One major problem.

  I don’t want a single one.

  I avoid my brothers and their probing stares. Rick’s complaining should make me ecstatic. Instead, it just reiterates that none of the women are going to work.

  The end of the night decides to grace us with its presence and I‘m ready to get the hell out of here.

  “Night, Chuck,” the three of us say.

  “Hey, sexy,” a seductive voice says from behind us. Even though I have no interest, doesn’t mean I don’t turn around.

  My brother’s roll their eyes going toward the car they rode in. I brought my own tonight, thinking I would need it. I see a brunette strutting toward me, her fake tits solid against her chest.

  “Hey,” I say, stumbling when she launches herself into my arms, her mouth attaching to mine and sucking like she’s trying to siphon me.

  I’m suffocating.

  And no part of me wants this.

  For the first time in my life I kind of see where Axel’s coming from when he says women treat him like a plaything. Because right now, I’m this woman’s plaything, and there’s no breaking free.

  I hear a tiny gasp from behind me. A minute sound I shouldn’t be attuned to. With the talented leach still attached to me, I turn around and hope I’m not right. My eyes connect to the retreating back of a black-haired woman. A woman, I’m certain, I wouldn’t have been disappointed if I spotted her tonight at any other time but right now. Especially since that particular woman is dressed in a tiny navy-blue dress glued to her body as if it were painted on.

  Fuck.

  It’s Clara.

  Chapter 7

  Clara

  What the hell am I doing?

  Why did I think this was a good idea?

  The image of the brunette clinging to his body as she sucks his soul out through his mouth makes bile burn in my stomach.

  He was so nice to me last night, and I just wanted to see him again. Thank him. I mean really, who washes some random chick’s clothes for them, ensures they drink water, takes pain pills, and buys them breakfast after a disastrous night of drinking? And I’m pretty certain I snuggled against him all night.

  This morning I wasn’t myself. The drinking. The hangover. I may have been a bit rude, and I wanted to apologize.

  And then, I got an idea.

  A really dumb idea.

  An idea about asking Ben for his help.

  But, I see now, this man can’t be my rescuer again.

  I mean, he’s a male revue dancer. Women throw money, among other things, at him. Which let's face it the evidence is literally on him right now.

  I feel like I'm interrupting something, and I feel like a moron.

  This is so embarrassing.

  His brothers implied he's a player. He owes me nothing.
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br />   This is a mistake. I‘m back to being sensible Clara. The one who doesn’t think someone she’s known for less than twenty four hours, where most of those hours were spent sleeping off way too much alcohol, would be willing to do her a favor.

  I hop in my car and rush home, evading all speed limit signs and traffic signals. Ok, not really, but you catch my drift. I’m speeding away from my silliness.

  I breathe a sigh of relief when I notice Maureen’s car isn’t home. Explaining to my stepsister where I was so late at night isn't on my list of things I want to do.

  I sprint to my door and push my back against it, ensuring it’s closed. My breath comes out in a loud rush. When I get myself under control, I slip off the short dress I wore to tempt Ben into agreeing to my dumb idea, kicking it on the floor with disgust.

  “Ok, no more stupid ideas,” I say to myself as I twist the shower on. “You’re Clara Banning, top of her college class. The sensible one in any group she’s in. She’s back from her temporary mental vacation.” I give my reflection a confident nod as I pull off my ratty terry-cloth robe and step into the steamy shower.

  The hot water is just what I need to keep me in my sane state of mind. I stay under the stream, letting it hit all the sore spots. My body sags against the marble loving the contrast of the heated water and the coolness of the wall. It reminds me of Ben. How he had all the women screaming at him, worshipping him as he soaked in all the attention he was receiving. But then he took care of me, making sure I drank water and took pain pills. I still have an odd memory of him cuddling against me while I drifted off to sleep. I shake my head, stopping the fantasy of having a man like Ben want me. I mean, he can have any woman he wants. I have to convince myself to get out of the shower. A disappointed groan slips out of me when I turn the knob and step out into the misty bathroom.

  A sharp knock stops me in my tracks. With a quick twist, I tie my robe around my body.

  Before I can change into something, the knock comes again, this time more impatient. Both hands go to the door as I peek out the peephole and spot the devil.

  “I know you’re in there Clara. Answer the fucking door.” Maureen’s voice is too loud for how late it is, making it impossible not to answer the door. I don’t want to have to explain to my dad why he received another complaint about his stepdaughter and daughter.

  Her arm comes up ready to pound on the door some more. I yank the door open hiding the smirk when she stumbles in her red-bottomed shoes.

  “What do you want, Maureen? It’s late and some people have to work in the morning.”

  She scoffs at the reminder of my responsibilities. We both know there’s no reason for me to work. My father’s more than happy to take care of me and allow me to live a life of luxury, but he also understands sitting around idly isn’t me. My stepsister does not have that understanding.

  Can you fault a girl for wanting more? Because that’s what I want. More.

  “That’s your fault for pretending to be poor.”

  With a fortifying breath, I hold in my temper. “What do you want Maureen?” I only ask the question to get her to hurry up and leave me alone. I already know what she’s going to say. I cringe thinking I’m going to have to explain to her I was lying.

  Maureen puts her hand on the door jam and leans into me. The smell of alcohol and cigarettes clings to her skin, causing my nose to jump as it’s assaulted by the strength of it. “I want you to admit you were lying.”

  I rub my forehead in an attempt to move back from her. A headache forms, pushing against the base of my skull and I know it’s going to get worse the longer I’m with her.

  “Clara,” a deep voice I never thought I’d hear again interrupts me from confessing.

  “Ben, what are you doing here?” I ask, moving around my sister so I can see him.

  “Who the hell are you?” Maureen turns on unsteady feet leaning against the wall for support.

  Ben’s eyebrow quirks when Maureen doesn’t recognize him right away since he’s in dark jeans and a black t-shirt and not his tight stripper shorts.

  “Wait, don’t I know you?” Maureen squints her eyes as she tries to focus on Ben.

  “Clara, I want to talk to you.” Ben ignores Maureen and turns his body so his whole focus is on me.

  And there’s nothing sexier in the world. The intensity in his pine-green eyes intoxicates me more than Maureen is right now. His muscles scream from underneath his shirt, wanting freedom from the tight confines of the material. I almost want to rip off his shirt to help them out.

  What is wrong with me? I remember him and the brunette from earlier tonight, and replace my lust with normalcy.

  “There’s nothing to talk about Ben.” I need Maureen to leave so I can just tell him that going to the club was a big mistake on my part.

  And I definitely won’t mention the favor.

  Ben steps closer and I inhale his musky scent. It smells expensive, sexy, and unattainable. “You’re wrong there’s a lot to talk about. What you saw tonight wasn’t what it looked like.”

  “It doesn’t matter what it looked like.” And it really doesn’t. Ben’s free to do him. No judgies.

  “Wait, you aren’t her date for my wedding are you?” Maureen asks, interrupting our conversation.

  If I wasn’t so mad at myself, I could kiss him when he glances at Maureen as if he forgot she was standing there.

  “No.” I say just as Ben says, “Yes.”

  “Well, which is it?” Maureen crosses her arms over her chest. She smirks at me like she caught me lying, enjoying herself in her victory.

  I have to push away the errant thought of smacking that victory smile off her face.

  “Yes, I’m taking her to your wedding.” There’s a gleam in his eye, and I hate to admit that it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

  But, I can’t let him take me just because Maureen is asking. I appreciate it and all, but no one should be subjected to Maureen’s cruelty.

  “You aren’t my date, Ben. Just go home.” I say, giving him a way out because I’m a good person.

  “I am your date.” There’s determination in his voice, and I figure I’ll just go with the flow and let him off the hook later.

  “Where do I know you from?” Maureen asks, tapping her manicured nails against her puff-filled lips.

  “Ben, can we talk about this later?”

  “Oh, we’ll be talking about a lot later, but I’m taking you to the wedding.”

  “Wait. You’re the stripper. You’re one of the Trifectas.” Maureen smiles wide before bursting out laughing.

  “I am. I’m Ben nice to formally meet you, again.” Ben reaches out his hand, playing the gentleman even though his teeth are grinding together.

  Maureen glances at him through her lashes attempting to seduce him. Is she serious? Her hand lands limply inside of his, and I roll my eyes.

  “My sister has good taste.”

  I swallow the gag when she licks her lips, her hand lingering inside his.

  “She does,” Ben says, removing his hand from hers before winking at me.

  “So how much is she paying you?”

  I gasp, barely able to stop myself from hitting her. I’ve wanted to smack the shit out of Maureen more than I can count since she came into my life, but this is the first time I can see myself following through with the thought.

  “Maureen,” I say through my teeth.

  “She’s not paying me anything.”

  “Don’t worry I won’t tell anyone. I was surprised when she said she even had a date for the wedding, but I should’ve known Clara would think of something, ever the sensible one.” She taps her temple with her forefinger.

  “She’s not paying me to go to the wedding.” Ben’s eyes flash with anger, yet my stepsister doesn’t seem to be reading clues tonight. “Unlike you, who had to pay me and my brothers to spend time with you and your friends.”

  It’s a low blow and I prepare for Maureen to retaliate. It is af
ter all her favorite thing to do, oh wait, besides put me down and spend my father’s money. How could I forget those? Have I mentioned she’s not a very nice person.

  “Oh, you must be paying him a fortune to get him to protect you like this.” Maureen runs her fingers over his t-shirt.

  Ben steps away making her hand drop back to her side. “Clara,” Ben says, stepping toward me again.

  “Don’t bother with her. In fact this is perfect,” Maureen says, maneuvering herself in between us.

  “What’s perfect?” I ask, wondering what she’s up to.

  “Well, you won’t look like my loser stepsister with him on your arm. And he’ll be at my wedding.”

  “Clara isn’t a loser, and I’ll be the lucky one to have her on my arm.” Ben doesn’t bother looking at Maureen. His eyes are on me and only me.

  Tingles shoot up my spine from the lust pouring from his eyes.

  “Oh, you’re good.” Maureen giggles. I can’t believe how clueless she’s being. “I can’t wait to get a taste of you.”

  Maureen’s statement breaks the spell Ben has me under.

  “What are you talking about?” I ask her, confused.

  “Well after the wedding Ben can show me how good it is to be with a married woman.”

  “Maureen, you can’t cheat on Charles on your wedding night.”

  “I can and you’re bringing me the perfect wedding present.” Maureen steps over to Ben plastering her body against him. “Why don’t you give me a preview?”

  Ben grasps Maureen’s arms and picks her up moving her over.

  “That’s not going to happen,” he says to her before pulling me against his body replacing Maureen. “I’m a dancer not an escort. There’s a difference.”

  She laughs. “Semantics.”

  Ben leans his forehead against mine. “We’ll talk later, Clara. I’m going to that wedding with you.”

  And then, if he hadn't made me speechless already, he kisses me. This isn’t just any kiss, it’s hot and full of frustration. Forgetting about Maureen, I moan and cling to his shirt as he pushes his tongue inside my mouth, sweeping against my tongue.