by Krista Wolf
Oh fuck Rob, remember?
It was supposed to be the mantra of our trip. Forget all about the guys and husbands — or in my case ex-husband — and just enjoy being together as girlfriends for once. It sounded good in theory, anyway. But in practice…
In practice everything had deteriorated before our week was even half over.
It all started with Heather, disappearing back to her room after dinner to tuck her children in via Skype every night. That part was totally understandable, except that most nights she never came back out.
Noelle was even worse. She made every other excuse to turn in early. It could’ve been because she was tired, but more likely because her loser unemployed husband was a total control freak. We tried getting her to come out with us, but she soon stopped answering her room’s door and her phone.
Victoria was a blast, and a wonderful single mom. But when her son came down with the flu, she’d flown back three days early. And if that weren’t big enough of a drag, we had to put up with Deanna. About to embark upon her second marriage, her new fiance called her phone literally every fifteen fucking minutes.
That left Bella, the wild one. The one I most related to, because ever since my divorce a year ago I was looking very forward to cutting loose with her.
And then four days in… she’d gotten called back to work. And she went. And we all hugged her goodbye and wished her well.
It’s life, Lauren. It happens.
Yeah sure, life happens. Only this time, it happened five consecutive times. And it happened to my vacation. The only one I’d taken in God only knew how long.
And so it came to pass that with three nights left in our ‘week of fun’, I was the sole survivor Everyone had changed flights and gone back early, leaving me with time and money and tons of pent-up energy. Not to mention a very spacious and expensive hotel suite that, as of right now, was hauntingly empty.
As the sun finally set, I felt the knot of anticipation in my stomach more sharply than ever. It occurred to me I’d been distracting myself. Doing anything and everything I could, to keep from thinking about… tonight.
It’s just a drink. One little drink.
Yeah, sure. That’s what I kept telling myself. And the little voice in my head kept laughing back in my face.
No strings, no guilt, no pressure — remember?
The knot in my stomach tightened. The truth was, I’d wanted it last night. Wanted everything the flyer had offered.
And I’d wanted it badly.
It had been almost a year since I’d actually had sex; ten months, to be precise. And if not for a moment of weakness when Rob had stopped by to grab some of his stuff, it would’ve actually been more like a year and a half.
Nothing wrong with wanting it, I reminded myself silently. Hell, it’s only natural.
I’d jumped him after a single glass of wine, right on the couch he was taking with him the next week. I was fine with that. Both the sex and the loss of the couch.
What I wasn’t fine with however, was the guilt that came afterward.
Besides, sex with my ex wasn’t exactly fulfilling either. It was only marginally better than the increasingly lackluster sex we’d had during our marriage, only this time with the forbidden element of doing something ‘wrong’ thrown in.
And now here I was, almost a year later… without even so much as a fuckbuddy or friend with benefits I could call to help me out. I was practically celibate. At severe risk of growing my cherry back.
Hell, I’d even tried one of those swipe-if-you-like dating apps everyone raved so much about. I’d had five meet-ups with four different guys, and none of them had gone past first base. And not for a lack of trying on my part, either.
“Guys these days don’t always make the first move,” Bella had told me. “Sometimes you’ve got to do it yourself.”
Yeah, no thanks.
It was a little crazy to me, that in just a decade things had somehow gotten so backwards. That the semi-cute guy who’d taken me out twice had only kissed me after I’d kissed him first. And even then, he’d seemed extremely deer-in-headlights about it.
Call me traditional, but I liked a guy with a little more decisiveness. A guy who made the moves. A guy who could take my hand and take charge. Someone who—
My phone buzzed against my thigh, and I stopped in my tracks. It was barely six o’clock.
Maybe it’s them.
A shockwave of fear rippled through me. My stomach flip-flopped.
Maybe they’re calling to cancel plans…
I was gripped by a whole host of conflicting emotions. Dread laced with excitement. Overwhelming relief… followed by grave disappointment.
Slowly I pulled the phone from my pocket. My whole body relaxed as I saw the name on the screen… and swiped to answer it with a big, broad grin.
Four
LAUREN
“What’s up you sexy bitch?”
I laughed as my friend greeted me with our usual exchange. I hadn’t even said hello yet.
“Getting along okay?” Bella asked. “Is Vegas still standing?”
“Fortunately yes,” I said, glancing around. The strip loomed on both sides of me, lighting up more with each passing minute. “Looks intact so far.”
“Damn, I figured you’d have brought some of the walls down by now,” laughed Bella. “What, with you being on your own and everything. No more lame duck, dead weight bullshit like the others were pulling on us.”
I smiled as I continued walking, the warmth of the waning sun on my back. I missed her already.
“Now at least you’re free,” she went on. “You can cut loose for the last few days of the trip, without anyone stopping you. Do whatever the hell you want.”
The phrase was definitely appealing. Especially considering the current circumstances.
“Yeah…” I answered finally. “But without you, though.”
“And I’m very sorry about that,” she answered, her tone going genuine. “But turns out the little fucklets here at the office really did have a legit emergency.”
“Fucklets?”
“Yeah, that’s right. When someone crashes the Unix system and nobody can even VPN me into the server so I can do a cold reboot? I consider them fucklets. Especially when they drag me away from a kickass, well-deserved vacation.”
I chuckled again. “So I guess the emergency was you weren’t there to hold their dicks for them.”
“Exactly,” my friend laughed. “Half of them couldn’t find their own ass if it were stapled to their forehead.”
“Have you tried that?”
She paused for one funny second. “No, but I probably should.” I heard her let out a long sigh. “Anyway, I’m just as pissed as you are. Imagine if it were just the two of us down there, tearing up that town.”
“Or getting torn up,” I countered.
In my mind’s eye, I could see my friend’s inevitable smile. “Either way sounds fun to me.”
I walked on a little more, toward the end of the strip. Very soon I’d grab a cab and head back to my hotel.
“What are you doing right now?” Bella asked.
“I’m about to jump into a cab, head back to the hotel,” I said. “Grab a shower. Get myself ready.”
“Ready for what?”
Butterflies erupted in my stomach. Oh shit…
I opened my mouth for a second. Almost actually told her. If anyone would understand, it would be Bella. Hell, if anyone would approve, it would be her too.
“I— I’m not sure yet,” I stammered. “Gonna go out, though.”
“You’d better,” she warned.
“I’ll probably head down to the hotel bar,” I said truthfully. “See what’s going on.”
“Make something happen,” Bella commanded sternly. “Let loose… but be safe.”
“Yeah, yeah…”
“Remember,” my friend said. “We’re all living vicariously through you, now.”
“Got it.”
“Make good decisions. Don’t do anything I’d do.”
I laughed. “Fuck that. I’ll do whatever I want.”
“There’s my girl,” Bella beamed. She sighed again, this time more wistfully. “Alright, let me get back to the stupid grind.”
“To the fucklets?”
“Yeah. Them too.”
“I’ll make you proud,” I told her, the knot of anticipation growing bigger with every bold statement.
“You’d better, bitch. Because I’m going to need a full report.”
“Roger that,” I smiled. “Lauren out.”
I hit the red button, and the time popped up. Three hours, maybe a little more. That’s all I had.
Three more hours to cancel. To change my mind. To bury these ridiculous thoughts of doing the craziest thing I’d ever done, in the wildest city on Earth.
Or I could simply relax and enjoy it.
College-age best friends…
Holy shit, that part had me crossing my legs. These guys were in their early twenties. Maybe even nineteen! I was a full ten years older than them. An entire decade, their senior…
Young guys like that, don’t they?
Some did, I definitely knew. When Victoria got divorced she dated a few younger guys, some of them more than five years her junior. She called them ‘overly enthusiastic’. And apparently she’d enjoyed every second of that enthusiasm, almost as much as we’d loved hearing stories about it.
Besides, thirty wasn’t that old. It was practically twenty-nine. Practically mid-to-late twenties, when you really thought about it.
Married at 19… I thought to myself glumly. You were such an idiot.
Yes, yes I was. I’d wasted ten years with Rob. More, if you counted the year we dated right out of high school. I’d only been with three other guys. That’s it. Four whole lovers in my entire life…
And tonight, if everything went well, I was going to add fifty-percent more.
Can you really do it?
It was a good question. A great question. I turned to my right, where the Luxor’s massive Sphinx stood silent and sentinel.
“Whaddya think, big guy?” I asked out loud. “Yes or no?”
The huge stone sculpture gazed back at me impassively, guarding its secrets. Maybe it knew. Maybe it didn’t. Either way, it stayed completely neutral.
“You’re no help at all,” I sighed forlornly. I stood there another few moments in mute contemplation, absorbing the sights and sounds of the city strip.
Then, spinning on one heel, I finally raised my arm to hail a cab.
Five
LAUREN
The Lily was already bustling by the time I got there. It was a beautifully-decorated lounge. All plush seats and pillows and tuffets, with enough group seating to accommodate several private parties and loose social gatherings.
I got there early, and took the first empty seat at the bar. I was dressed to impress. Dark, thigh-high stockings hidden beneath a sexy black midi skirt, slit with a triangle of lace up one side. I had strapped-heel pumps. A white top that plunged just enough to show off my assets, walking the razor edge between sexy and slutty.
It was a head-turning outfit, even by Vegas standards. But hey, I knew exactly what I was there for.
And so did the guys who were coming to meet me.
It occurred to me as I sat there sipping on a glass of Merlot that I didn’t even know what they looked like. They’d described themselves as handsome and physically fit, but that’s really all I knew about them.
And college-age. Don’t forget that part.
I’d sent them pictures of myself, but hadn’t even asked for any in return. I didn’t know if they were tall or short. Dark or light haired. They could be any race, any creed… hell, they could be any pair of youngish guys who walked through the door!
I felt suddenly vulnerable. Like I was putting myself out there, on display for the whole world, just for the sake of—
It’s just a drink, Lauren, I scolded myself. One little drink.
I forced myself to calm down. I was nervous enough, knowing what I was doing. What they were proposing to do to me, if the three of us somehow ‘hit it off.’
The chatter in the bar grew louder as I ran the whole trip through my mind. I’d come down here with the intention of letting my hair down. Of cutting loose… and yes, of getting laid, too. Bella and I had practically made a pact:
“We’re going to be dancing and flirting and living it up,” she’d told me before we left. “Lauren, it’s been way too long. If you can’t find a cute guy or two down there to clean your pipes, you may as well join a convent.”
A cute guy, sure. I could handle a cute guy. After a year, I was looking very forward to a cute guy.
It was the ‘or two’ part that seemed oddly prophetic, all of a sudden.
Nervously I sipped my wine. What if they didn’t show? Or even worse, what if they showed and they just didn’t like me?
Impossible.
I’d spent the last hour primping myself, while wandering my beautiful suite. Thinking about all the wonderful things these two young strangers could do to me, if I were to let them. There were three separate bedrooms — now all mine. A huge living area with soft leather couches. A fully-stocked kitchen with a big granite island. And in the middle of it all, a large, sunken—
“Lauren?”
I turned… and there they were. Two beautiful, college-age friends. Just like in the flyer, only now in the flesh.
“Yes…” I managed. “Hi.”
The blond was tall and well-built. He had the most amazing close-cropped hair, with fantastic cheekbones and a gorgeous mouth. His smile was bright and wide, his eyes as blue as an Icelandic Viking warrior.
“I’m Brody,” he said, in that smooth, panty-melting voice. “And this is Corey.”
A hand came forward and I clasped it mechanically. His friend was even taller, with short dark hair and liquid brown eyes. He had two days of rich, dark stubble where a beard would be.
And he had shoulders for days.
“Would you like to join us?” asked Corey. In person his voice was just as smooth, just as velvety. “We have a little table over there, near the corner.”
Somehow they’d gotten past me. Or maybe they’d been here all along. Either way, I nodded and pushed my empty glass — and accompanying tip — in the bartender’s direction. Corey ordered another round of whatever they were having, as Brody led me across the room to a small, U-shaped booth.
“Thanks for showing up,” he smiled, holding my hand as I prepared to sit down. “We were a little worried you might bail.”
I slid into the center of the booth, smoothing my skirt beneath me. “Does that really happen?” I found myself asking.
“Oh yeah,” Brody winked, and my heart skipped through its next beat. “All the time.”
Corey joined us, setting a fresh glass of Merlot directly in front of me. The guys, I noticed, each had a beer and a glass of water.
“Staying hydrated?” I flirted, taking the first sip of my one drink.
Brody chuckled. “Always.”
“Good to know.”
The guys flanked me, sliding in on either side. The did it casually, comfortably — like we were old friends. Like we’d done this a hundred times before.
“This your first time in Vegas?” asked Corey.
“Third, actually,” I admitted. “But the first two times I was on business. Short trips, two or three days. Worked so much I barely saw anything outside of my own hotel.”
“What do you do for a living?”
“I’m a publicist. And a promoter.”
“Represent anyone we’d know?”
I smiled slyly. “Maybe.”
The guys sipped their beer, almost in tandem. I wondered if that was all they did in tandem.
“You’re from New York, aren’t you?” Brody asked.
I laughed. “Is the accent that obvious?”
“Like a tase
r to the nuts is obvious, yes.”
Now it was my turn to sip my wine, while they regarded me. I did it slowly. Every millimeter of liquid was like a lifeline to finally making a decision.
“Ever had a taser to the nuts?” I asked.
“No, but we’re willing to try anything once,” Brody smirked.
“Most things,” corrected Corey.
“Besides, we’ve got friends from New York,” added Brody. “One in particular who moved out here for a little while, and ended up in Hollywood doing bit parts in a few movies.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Anything I might know?”
“Maybe,” Corey smirked triumphantly.
I forced myself to take a long, deep breath. They were absolutely gorgeous — the both of them. Tall and sculpted and beautiful, with broad chests and big arms and roguishly handsome faces. And they were charming too. Soft-spoken and well-mannered. They carried themselves with an air of confidence, but not swagger.
And they were mine. The both of them.
That is, if I wanted it.
“So…” I said, tracing my finger lightly along the rim of my wine glass. “The umm… thing in your flyer…”
The guys perked up. I saw Corey’s mouth curl into a smile. Brody’s blue eyes shimmered with light.
“Do you do it often?”
Six
LAUREN
It was like ripping off a band-aid. Like jumping into an icy pool, without dipping my toes in first.
“You want the truth?” asked Brody.
I laughed musically, to defer my nervousness. “Doesn’t every girl?”
“Not all the time, no,” said Brody.
“Well indulge me then.”
I saw his eyes go to his friend. They exchanged an honest look, before his attention returned to me.
“Then yes,” said Brody. “We do it when we can.” He shrugged unapologetically. “As the flyer says, it’s always amazing.”
Something fluttered, deep in my chest. Or was it my stomach?
