Lotto Trouble: A Reverse Harem Romantic Comedy (Lotto Love Book 2)

by Ann Denton

  The mental image that brings up makes me wanna puke. Not to mention the fact that it would probably get me shot dead. I think I’ll stick with hiding the crystal.

  I tuck the crystal into the waistband of my skirt and wander slowly to one of the hallways, sure to keep my arm covering its location. I keep up the sore leg act. But the crystal is kind of awkward, digging into my side as I walk. And if I don’t dead-arm, then it’s definitely bulky enough to see. I can’t just leave it in my skirt.

  I press myself back into a dark corner of the hallway. I make sure all those jerkwads are looking away, then I reach my hand into my skirt and grab that crystal. Right about now, I wish I was a panty girl. But even then, the crystal would be too long for them not to notice. It would totally tent my skirt if it moved around.

  I have to hide the evidence of my sabotage. I finger the crystal. It’s on the thin side. Where to put it… my decision’s made for me as J2 comes into the hallway.

  “Find anything?” he asks.

  “Nope,” I squeak, my hands flying behind my back.

  He starts examining the symbols that are carved into the walls around us and my hands edge underneath the back of my skirt. I change my position on panties. Now, I’m grateful that I didn’t put them on to block my access further. I slowly work the crystal up the back of my skirt in a way that I hope J2 doesn’t notice.

  I’m sweating, my breath is shallow, but I’m trying not to let it get loud as my eyes are glued to J2, freaked that he might figure out that I’m up to something.

  As his eyes swivel to mine, his brow scrunches. “What you doing?”

  “Nothing!” My answer comes out too fast and squeaky, almost like it’s Katie talking.

  J2 stomps over to me and my hands are fumbling, shaking, shoving at the crystal. Finally, I find an opening and shove. And that crystal is slurped right up inside my ass.

  J2 leans over me and yanks my hands out from behind my back. Luckily, they’re empty. “What you try to hide?” He grips my jaw.

  Just then, the crystal starts to slip. Fuck! I clench my ass. I absolutely cannot have that fucker fall out right now. Fuck! Fuck! Why is it thinner than your average butt plug? I’m totally gonna ream Katie about her crystal selection. She should have known I’d get my freak on in the escape room.

  J2 stares at me, awaiting an answer.

  “I kinda have to pee,” I mutter the first thing that comes to mind. “And we’re stuck in here. So I thought I’d try to come back here in the corner.”

  J2 drops my jaw, shakes his head, and stomps off in disgust.

  I let out a huge breath. Crisis averted. Now I just have to keep this thin little crystal up my ass for the next few hours.

  It slips again and my hands slide back to cover my butt.

  Goddammit.

  That might be easier said than done.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Katie

  After Kenneth’s eaten three or four of the Snickers from the chocolates I left in Danny’s duffel, we change into fresh clothes.

  As I slip on one of Danny’s golf shirts instead of that smelly, slutty dress, my throat clenches. He better make it. I can’t even—I force myself to keep moving, pulling on some of his athletic shorts and pulling the drawstring tight. The shorts are basically capris on me. But they have pockets. And I’m gonna need pockets for our plan.

  I take a quick inhale of Danny’s fresh laundry scent and tell the universe that she’d better send him back to me. Or else. I smooth down the green striped shirt, glad that Danny’s always worn fitted shirts. Even so, I still look like I’m running around in a bag, but at least it’s not so loose that I’m worried about it flying up in my face.

  Kenneth changes into some of Danny’s tennis clothes, grabs changes for the other guys, including some sandals for Alec, and then grabs the duffel with the remaining candy bars. He tosses the clothes inside and we head out.

  Peter Brown is sitting at camp, scratching himself, when we get back. Alec’s nowhere to be found.

  “Where’s Alec?” I ask the obvious question as Kenneth tosses some clothes and food to Peter.

  Peter digs into a Snickers bar before he answers. “Mmm. Looking for you.”

  I sigh. Dammit. The sun’s about to set and the last thing we need is to be separated. Shit. This is my fault. I should have come back and told him we were leaving before just dragging Kenneth off. But all I thought about was getting Kenneth fed.

  I’m about to run randomly through the trees when I turn and see Alec behind me, glaring down at me.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

  He just nods and I want to curl up in a ball and hide from his disapproval.

  But then he comes forward and crushes me into a hug. And that hug says a thousand things. It says he was fucking worried. He was scared. He’s relieved. He cares. I stroke his back, trying to reassure him.

  Eventually, he lets go and steps back. “Just tell me so I don’t think you’ve been taken next time.”

  I nod.

  When he releases me, Kenneth tosses the duffel bag at him and says, “She took me over to Danny’s stash for food. It’s better than burnt mangoes.”

  “Why the hell aren’t we waiting over there?” Peter Brown complains.

  Kenneth raises a brow. “You think the Russians are more likely to do another round of searches there? Or drag their butts through the forest—which, I might point out, they’ve avoided so far?”

  That shuts Peter up. So does the candy bar I lob at him.

  Alec digs into the bag and his expression when he eats his first candy bar is nothing short of blissful.

  He and Peter eat their fill of candy and drink bottled water we took from Danny’s villa. They change—Alec groans in relief when he pulls off the suit and gets to toss on sandals, even if his toes protrude a little over the edge. Danny’s shirts are way too tight for Peter Brown’s swollen body, the shirt keeps rolling up his swollen abdomen, so eventually he gives up and throws his shirt down, opting to face the mosquitoes for another night. It’s his funeral. I shrug as he grabs a walking stick off the ground to help his sore body navigate down the hill, and then we set out for my villa.

  I go through the list of items we need to find out loud. With each step we take, my tension grows. It’s mid-afternoon. The face off will be soon. We want to hit them once it’s dark. This might be my last day … ever. I blow out a breath. Only, I can’t think like that. I need to focus. Plan, like Alec said. I need to get shit done so that everything Danny’s done for us … I need to plan.

  We make it to my villa after about half an hour of hiking and that’s when I feel like I can finally breathe, because that’s when I can start grabbing things, making things, giving orders, executing plans, preparing instead of worrying. The first hour is spent just digging through my boxes, separating out things into piles of “to use” and “probably not.” The first pile keeps growing.

  Next, we have a blow circle, which is far less exciting than it sounds. We all sit on the floor of my living room and blow up twenty-five sex dolls. Why? Because Heather’s a kinky bitch, I do what she says when she says click “Buy Now,” and because we need decoys.

  “Stop blowing so hard, your doll’s bending mine!” Peter complains to Kenneth.

  “From what I hear, you’re the expert at blowing,” Kenneth quips.

  “Fuck you!”

  “You would.”

  The room fills with dolls and it gets fucking crowded. When we’ve got them done, I hand out strips of twine and everyone ties their dolls into bundles. But—problem. We can’t fit the bundles out the door. Peter tries to squeeze five of his dolls through at once and almost pops his Asian dolly against the door frame. She catches on a piece of wood and a loud fart noise fills the room.

  “Dammit, Peter, you just made your doll queef,” Kenneth shakes his head.

  “Fuck you—push them through,” Peter says, yanking from the other side of the door. The Asian girl’s leg starts to deflate a
nd I rush over. I do emergency surgery with a bit of duct tape. Her leg’s a goner. It’s now a tiny, floppy bit of plastic. But the rest of her survives. She’ll still be a decent target.

  I yell to Peter, “They aren’t gonna fit, you have too many.”

  We end up throwing my comforter over the glass shards on the ground and dragging the dolls out through the broken sliding glass door in the living room. We hike out toward our target spot and tie the bitches off to trees.

  We reconvene at my place for snacks and water after the airheads have been distributed.

  Then we split up to go set up various other parts of the plan.

  Alec loads Kenneth up, handing him a gun to tuck into his waistband and then an entire box full of crepe paper roses, paper napkins, paper towels, and electric firelighters. He’ll use those as kindling to start fires in the wetter parts of the rain forest that borders the villas. We’re gonna try to use smoke and drive the mobsters out to the sports complex that I had commissioned into an escape room; it’s the building closest to the runway, and farthest from any other buildings. They won’t have a lot of options to hide over there. And if they run inside that building—well, all the better for us, I think smugly.

  Kenneth also tucks a giant penis piñata under his arm, a rope dangling from its tip so he can hang it. We’ve filled it with all the fireworks I could find from a display I’d originally intended to use the final night. It includes some mega-illegal shit. In case the fires don’t catch on quickly enough, maybe the burst of sound will at least send the bad guys scurrying in the right direction.

  Alec hauls off a load of very realistic, plastic snakes and very real broken glass—courtesy of the hundred pack of glass butt plugs Heather ordered—to drop along some of the side paths. I don’t know how great of a deterrent either will be, since the Russians have shoes. But Peter Brown seems freaked by the snakes at least.

  “What the fuck are those here for?” he asked when I first opened the box.

  “Oh, I was gonna use those for the pits in the obstacle course, but then the trainer guy didn’t really like them. Overkill or something.”

  Since Peter won’t carry the box with the snakes, I load him up with the heavier box. It’s got several bulk-size jars of oil and body syrup. Heather’s fantasy chocolate syrup wrestling contest materials are donated to a higher cause. I cross my fingers that between scary, slimy, sticky, and sharp, we can keep those Russians on the path we want them to take.

  While the guys set up items for the path, I set off toward the less inhabited side of the island, toward the escape room where we eventually want everyone to end up. I set up a couple of Super Bowl level confetti cannons first. Then I haul a sack full of LED spotlights on my back, trying to take as many as I can in one trip. And then I painstakingly climb trees and wedge them in. The jerkwads are about as easy to shove in place as a tooth-filling. They don’t like to cooperate. But, at least I don’t have to worry about cords or this would be impossible. Thank the lucky stars Heather had an unlimited budget and I sprang for the battery-operated kind.

  I rub my shoulders as I climb yet another tree, dragging the final spotlight with me. I’ve put up at least twenty so far. I slide in a red gel over the light on one side and a blue gel on the other. Then I carefully climb back down, which is not frickin’ easy in over-sized men’s clothing that likes to get caught on every damn twig. I eye the sky as I walk back. The sun’s edging closer to the tree line. After that, it will be sunset. Almost time.

  When I get back to my villa, I don’t see anyone in the living room, but I hear the shower running. I cautiously make my way into my bedroom, heart pounding. I mean, it’s unlikely that one of those Russians would come all the way out here to shower. Unless they sent someone to guard their perimeter. But, still, he’d have seen our mess and gone back to report. My brain tries to talk my amped up veins down. Carefully, I peer around the door. The outfit Alec was wearing is on the floor. I put a hand on my heart and try and breathe deep and calm the fuck down.

  I call out—so that Alec knows it’s me and doesn’t burst out with a gun.

  “Be right out!” he says.

  “Okay!” I call back.

  I go double check the other rooms, but Peter and Kenneth aren’t anywhere to be found.

  I walk back into the bathroom just as Alec is wrapping his towel around his waist. I can smell my body wash on him and I am so grateful I went with tropical coconut and not something super girly like strawberries. No, the smell of coconut just makes me think of tanning and oiling Alec’s nicely browned stomach.

  I snap my eyes from his stomach to his face, realizing I’m sleep deprived and my thoughts are wandering. I shake my head to clear it and ask the question I came in here to ask. “Wasn't Peter with you?”

  He shrugs, sending rivulets of water down his chest. And dammit, my eyes fixate on those drops as they near his nipples. My tongue licks my lips. I’m tired, and fucking amped up after thinking someone else was in here. Somehow that equates to being hyper aware of everything about Alec. Well, that’s not quite true. I’ve always been aware of Alec. From the second I saw him, he drew me in and made my head spin like a hurricane.

  Alec lifts the towel to dry his hair, and my eyes snap to his face. He’s smiling. He knows what’s running through my head right now. I have to work hard, way too hard, to keep my eyes respectfully on his face. His grin only turns into a chuckle as he answers my question about Peter Brown. "Yeah, Pete said he had to shit. I told him to go do it in another villa, since we're stuck here for the next two hours ‘til the sun sets."

  I make a face. Yeah, definitely don’t want to smell whatever turds Peter’s been cooking up after two days of eating in the forest. He’s probably gotten some kind of virus so it’s probably poop soup. "Thanks for that."

  “Anytime. Happy to help you out any way I can.” Alec lets his tone get suggestive as he turns away and hangs up his towel, giving me yet another opportunity to eye his ass and those hot-as-hell lower back dimples. I just want to dig my fingers into them. My hands even lift a little and I can’t even stop them. His body is like the North Pole and I'm just a magnet. I can't control it. My eyes drift down over his muscular calves. Shit, even his legs are hot.

  He turns back and smirks, catching me. "Are you checking me out?"

  My heart skips and I can hardly believe my own audacity when I say, "Always." But it's true, every single thing about Alec—from his macho persona to his huge muscles to his fearless attitude, even his aggressive life lessons is #goals, as the brace faces used to say at work. He's kind of what I wish I could be. Being around him, makes me dazed and brave in the same moment. I feel so lucky to have met him.

  Before I realize it, I've moved in front of him. I stand staring up at his gorgeous coffee-colored eyes. I watch a drop of water slide down his nose and land on his chin. I lift my hand and use my thumb to brush aside the droplet. I end up rubbing my hand back and forth along the scruff that’s grown since he hasn’t been able to shave.

  My stomach wobbles as I touch him and I’m not sure why. Maybe because I'm not really sure what I'm doing. I don't really have a plan. Which isn’t normal for me. I live for planning, love it. But one look at Alec and I feel like a fairy princess wearing a flower crown in a daydream. Everything becomes unreal. All my real-life, grown-up plans get hazy. Despite my nerves, I keep going. I can’t seem to resist. My finger drags across his jawline and then traces the pulse in his throat. It jumps under my touch. And just knowing that I excite him makes me flush with pleasure.

  I draw my hand, away but Alec catches my wrist. And he places my hand on his chest, right over his rapidly beating heart. We stay like that, eyes locked, hearts racing, for what feels like minutes, but must only be seconds.

  And then, suddenly, Alec’s arms are around me and he draws me up against his chest. He grabs onto my legs and wraps them around his waist and he carries me into my bedroom.

  He doesn’t speak but he goes right for my dresser and gra
bs a condom. Then he takes me over to my bed and throws me onto the mattress fully clothed.

  "Get naked, Alec growls.

  My body tightens in anticipation. I try to give Alec a sultry grin as I pull off the golf shirt I've been wearing, but I’m pretty sure I fail miserably. I slip off the shorts and sandals quietly and then sit. He just stares at me, his gaze dark and unyielding, demanding something from me. I’m not sure what. But whatever he wants, I want to give it to him. I swallow hard as I watch him harden just from the strength of our stare. He rolls the condom on but doesn’t make another move to pleasure himself.

  He orders, "Lay back. And spread your legs. Let me look at you."

  I do as he says. I arrange my hair and fan it out above my head. Then I lay flat on my back, palms up. I let my legs fall apart in a wide ‘X’ so he can see all of me. He watches for a long time. And even though he doesn’t command me to stay still like Kenneth did, I can tell he wants me to; I can tell he wants me waiting and anticipating, completely still like a little fuck doll. Goosebumps form on my skin as I have that naughty thought. I imagine him calling me that. My nipples tighten. I imagine him fucking me in front of the guys and calling me that and pleasure starts to heat my sex without him even moving a muscle or saying a word. The anticipation spreads until my entire body thrums.

  That's the moment that Alec climbs onto the bed and hovers over me. He lowers himself down slowly, until he's resting on his elbows and the rest of his body warms the length of mine. He rests on top of me for a moment, just skin to skin. And every single one of my synapses shouts for joy. His body is so hot and warm and all encompassing. Every point of connection is magical. My breath quickens. His dick twitches against my stomach. And still he doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, he just stares deep into my eyes.