Falling For Them: A New Adult Reverse Harem Collection

by C. L. Stone

  Glancing around the lobby, I found Cole leaning against a column in a tailored black suit. Everyone in the vicinity blurred as I honed in on his dark hair and masculine profile, then traced the rest of his long, lean body with my eyes. Damn.

  Of course, he chose that moment to turn my direction and immediately flashed me a mischievous smile, as if he knew I’d been checking him out. His eyes appraised me greedily as he approached, lingering on my legs and the red shoes.

  “Good evening, Emma.” He leaned in and kissed my cheek. "You look amazing.”

  “You’re not so bad yourself.” Definitely the understatement of the year, but I was trying to play it cool despite my overwhelming urge to find out what his lips tasted like.

  “Thanks for coming tonight.”

  “You didn’t leave me much of a choice.”

  “Like you would have wanted one. I see that you received, and accepted, my gift,” he quipped, a cocky smirk firmly in place. Infuriating bastard. And, it didn’t help that he was right.

  “Yes, thank you for the gorgeous shoes. I hope you receive a bulk discount if this is how you ask all your dates out.”

  “You’re very welcome. And you’re the first. Woman I’ve sent shoes to, that is.”

  “That leaves me with only two possible conclusions, then.”

  Cole cocked an eyebrow, encouraging me to continue.

  “I have such terrible taste in footwear that you felt compelled to remedy it with an extravagant gift.” And you’re likely not interested in me romantically.

  “Or . . .”

  “Or you have some weird obsession with stilettos, and I should leave now, because I’ve heard all kinds of horror stories.”

  Cole burst out laughing, the rich sound reverberating over the noise of the lobby. “Stiletto obsession, huh?” He laughed some more. “Okay, so clearly foot fetishes are a no-go for you. How do you feel about champagne?”

  “I am pro-champagne,” I responded, still wondering what was on the schedule for the evening.

  “I hoped you’d say that, because I thought we could mix a little business with pleasure.”

  “Mmm. What exactly did you have in mind?” I tilted my head and watched his eyes follow the line of my neck down to my cleavage.

  “I have lots of things in mind.” He gave me a heated look. “But as to the business, I have to attend a champagne tasting event. Hors d’oeuvres, loads of champagne, the works. Occupational hazard, I’m afraid.”

  “Sounds like a real imposition,” I said sarcastically. Oh this is bad, I thought, realizing that Cole plus unlimited alcohol was a dangerous combination.

  “All in the name of duty,” he replied stoically.

  “I didn’t realize that champagne tastings were part of the job description for app designers.”

  “Nice catch, smarty-pants.” He winked. “App designing is part of what I do, but I was invited to tonight’s event as one of the owners of Loft25. So, are you game, or are you going to make me suffer through this evening alone?”

  “Count me in.” Even though Nicholas remained close-lipped about his role in Loft25, I wasn’t too surprised that Cole admitted his stake in the club. He wouldn’t have invited me to an event for local business owners if he wasn’t willing to at least divulge that much. Hopefully, I could surreptitiously pry about his co-owners over the course of the evening.

  Cole placed his hand on the small of my back and led me through the lobby to one of the larger banquet halls, where a tall blonde woman greeted guests. We were ushered inside and I surveyed the room, noting the average age of the other attendees outpaced us by at least two decades. The men and women representing various champagne vendors, on the other hand, looked as if they stepped straight off the set of a TV drama—young, beautiful, engaging. Potential article: industries that screen candidates for employment based on appearance and how they avoid getting sued.

  When I noticed Cole looking at me with a bemused expression on his face, I wondered if he asked me a question. Crap. Get your head in the game, Emma. I was here for answers about Cole, Shane, and Nicholas, not to research potential articles for the paper.

  “Bored already?” Cole teased.

  I smiled and shook my head. “No, sorry. I have a bad habit of getting lost in my thoughts.”

  “Well, then, I’ll have to keep things interesting,” he said with a smirk. “Which brand would you like to try first?”

  “You want me to decide?”

  “Why not?” He was so blasé, I almost wondered if he was joking.

  “At least give me some parameters on what you’re looking for.”

  “Nope.”

  “Shouldn’t you be more selective based on the club’s needs?” I challenged, feeling like he was squandering a business opportunity.

  “What do you think is a consumer’s determining factor in champagne or sparkling wine choice?”

  I thought for a moment and then answered. “Price?”

  “Exactly. The majority of the time, absent a connoisseur, consumer selection is based on brand familiarity or the lowest price.”

  “Okay, so we’re looking for those on the lower end of the price range.”

  “Wrong.”

  “Wrong?”

  “We’re looking for whatever you enjoy drinking. Whatever strikes your fancy.”

  “Why mine?”

  “Although you’re a tad younger than most Loft25 guests, you hit the target demographic overall. You’ve been to the club, and like most of our clientele, you probably want to experience something decadent and slightly indulgent without regretting the bill in the morning. Most of the offerings tonight are within that range, although there are exceptions, and we should definitely sample them as well. You know, to be thorough.”

  I pursed my lips out and nodded. Impressive.

  “So . . . you’re using me,” I accused playfully.

  He leaned in, his hand on my lower back once more as his rich voice poured into my ear. “Perhaps, but I promise to reward you handsomely for your efforts.”

  Needing to distance myself from his intoxicating nearness, I turned and pointed in the direction of a brand that caught my eye when we walked in. “Let’s start there.”

  “Excellent.”

  The vendor made a brief speech, took questions, and offered more samples than we could wish for. The rest of the evening followed much of the same script as Cole and I rotated among the various brands, talking between presentations. While he offered pieces of information about himself, he mostly asked me questions about my life and interests. He touched me almost constantly, playing with the ends of my hair, placing his hand on my lower back or hip, whispering in my ear.

  The event felt like a never-ending flight of champagnes, and I quickly lost track of how much I had consumed. Feeling emboldened, I decided to attempt a little digging. I took another sip, the bubbles washing over my tongue. “I can’t believe your business partner didn’t want to enjoy an evening of free champagne.”

  “Nah, this is more my style.”

  “What is he like?”

  “Two partners, actually. One is very business-minded, professional, good at networking.” Shane, I assumed, noting that Cole didn’t provide his name. “And the other prefers to take a more behind-the-scenes role.” Nicholas, for sure.

  “What made you decide to open Loft25 together?”

  “We’ve been friends for years, roommates since our sophomore year of college. We always intended to open a club, and our goal was to make it happen by the time we turned twenty-five.”

  “Hence the twenty-five in the name.”

  “Precisely.”

  A man in his mid-fifties approached and gave Cole a hearty handshake. “Cole, how are you? Good to see you.”

  “Thanks, Mike. Same here,” he responded before introducing us. Mike was the owner of another local club, and although they were competitors, they seemed genuinely friendly.

  “Will you be at the annual PAWS fundraiser in January?�
� Mike asked. “The latest update to the app is genius, and I know the director wants to talk to you about it.”

  “Wouldn’t miss it.”

  “Great! Well, I have to get going, but it was good to see you. And nice to meet you, Emma.”

  I turned to Cole, watching him curiously. “PAWS. That’s the animal activist organization, right?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “Let me guess . . . dog person?”

  “Definitely. Cats are evil.”

  “So, what does Strike have to do with animals? Are you expanding to help people find their perfect pet match?”

  He laughed. “No, but that’s not a bad idea. Mike was referring to my other app that helps owners find their missing pets.”

  “Aww, maybe there is a do-gooder beneath that playboy exterior after all,” I teased.

  “And, on that note, I have a reputation to uphold. What do you say we get out of here?”

  Although I wasn’t ready for our date to end, I remembered Cole’s proposition the night we met and needed more information. “Depends. What’s our destination?”

  “Somewhere public,” he responded with a knowing grin. “I’ll give you three guesses.” Cole wrapped his arm around my shoulders as we headed toward the exit.

  “How very generous of you.” I leaned closer, snuggling into his side.

  A limo waited in the porte cochère and the driver rounded the trunk to open the door. “Mr. Reid.”

  “After you, Emma.” Cole gestured to the open door.

  I slid into the leather seat, feeling apprehensive; I had no clue where we were going, no one knew where I was, and Cole was barely more than a stranger. But my gut instinct told me that he was trustworthy, or at least safe. And, besides, I had my cell phone.

  “Everything okay?”

  I nodded, glancing around the lavish interior. He weaved his fingers through mine and rested our joined hands on his knee as the driver pulled away from Aria. His thumb grazed my skin, calming me.

  “You have ten, maybe fifteen, minutes to figure out where we’re going. And for every incorrect guess, I’m claiming a kiss.”

  That made me almost want to be wrong. What is it about him that drives me crazy?

  “Loft25?” I asked, even though it was outside the radius indicated.

  Cole lifted my hand to his lips, letting them whisper across the back as he maintained eye contact. Sexy but subdued, he was playing with me. “Guess again.” He kissed my hand.

  “Shark Reef at Mandalay Bay,” I said more hopefully. I’d heard amazing things about the predator-based aquarium and exhibit but had yet to visit.

  “Maybe next time.” Cole leaned in, sweeping my hair over my shoulder and nuzzling my ear before kissing the sensitive skin of my neck. I tried to keep my breathing even, but my heart raced. “I should probably ask if you’re afraid of heights, though.” His mouth drifted toward mine without making contact.

  I shook my head. Another hint. Weighing the options carefully, I answered, “The Stratosphere.”

  Cole remained silent, his face difficult to read. Am I right? For once in my life, I wanted to be wrong.

  “That’s closer, but still, no.” He took my cheek in his hand. Running his thumb along my lips, his dark chocolate eyes seared me with their heat. Finally, he brushed his lips over mine, the kiss sweet, tender. After a few moments, he withdrew, lingering with our noses pressed together.

  The limo stopped and I peered out the window, noticing a large sign for a helicopter company.

  “We’re taking a helicopter?” I asked excitedly, wondering if I’d stepped into someone else’s life.

  “Ding, ding. Correct.” Cole entwined our hands and pulled me toward the entrance.

  “You know, I would have been perfectly happy if you’d just taken me out for ice cream.”

  His expression turned incredulous. “Is that so? I’ll keep that in mind.”

  The helicopter blades chopped through the air, lifting us off the ground. Music streamed through our large headphones, occasionally interrupted by pilot commentary on the various landmarks. From the Stratosphere Tower to Caesars Palace, the Strip glittered in contrast to the night sky. We caught a glimpse of the Bellagio fountains before spotting the skyline of New York-New York and the beam atop the Luxor pyramid.

  When I glanced over at Cole, I found him regarding me with blatant interest. He flashed me his trademark bright smile, and I felt on top of the world.

  5

  “Wow, this place is incredible,” I said after the waiter left with our drink orders.

  Overlooking the golf course, our candlelit table had a prime view of a beautiful waterfall that cascaded into a serene pool. I couldn’t imagine a more romantic setting. Or a sexier companion, I thought, admiring Shane’s chiseled jawline, perfectly tousled hair, and piercing blue-gray eyes.

  “I’m glad you like it. You look beautiful, by the way.”

  “Thanks.” I had agonized over my outfit, finally opting for a plum-colored sweater dress with a cowl neck paired with heeled suede boots. Fortunately, it seemed to strike the right balance for the swanky restaurant.

  “So, elusive Emma, did you enjoy your plans last night?”

  I smiled at the reference to our running nickname contest. “I did. I attended a champagne tasting.”

  “That sounds rather . . . decadent,” he finished in a tight voice. Did he know I was out with Cole or was he connecting the dots? “Were there any domestic options, or were they all imported?” he continued smoothly.

  “Both, actually, and I discovered several fantastic sparkling wines from California.”

  “Well, my home state is the best.”

  “That’s funny, it seems like everyone I’ve met lately is from California.” I paused and looked at him pointedly. Would he come clean about whatever was going on with him, Cole, and Shane? When his face remained impassive, I asked, “Have you lived here long?”

  “A few years. What about you? Are you from here?”

  “I’m surprised you don’t already know the answer, sneaky Shane,” I mocked, admitting nothing. If, as I suspected, Shane had accessed the Loft25 database for my full name, he would’ve seen my Indiana driver’s license.

  “Sneaky, huh? That’s better than your other selections, but there’s definitely still room for improvement. Maybe I know the answer,” he said evasively, “but I’d rather hear it from you.” He flashed me a smile, looking utterly charming and almost boyish.

  “As you probably already know, I’m from Indiana.”

  “Do you miss it?”

  “Not really, and I certainly don’t miss the cold winters,” I said between bites of the king crab appetizer Shane insisted on ordering.

  “What about your family? I assume they still live there.”

  “Yes, my parents live in the house I grew up in, and I have a younger brother who’s a senior in high school.”

  “You’re not visiting for the holidays?”

  “I’m going home next week for a few days. What about you? Will you go to California?”

  “I went back for Thanksgiving, but my dad and stepmom will be skiing in Europe over Christmas. They still act like newlyweds, and I agreed to stay here to keep an eye on his business interests.”

  “Workaholic?” I joked.

  “To some extent, yes, but I also want my dad to enjoy his vacation. He pretty much raised me single-handedly and only remarried after I was in college.” There was a note of pride in his voice, and his admiration for his dad was clear.

  “What brought you to Vegas, then?”

  Shane slipped his phone out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. “My,” he faltered momentarily, clearly annoyed, before continuing, “college roommates and I planned to move here after graduation.”

  If I kept dancing around the issue of Cole and Nicholas, would Shane crack? Somehow I doubted it; of the three, he was the most difficult to read.

  “Why Vegas?”

  Maybe if I kept t
he conversation centered on Shane, I would get some answers. Last night with Cole hadn’t been very productive. Not that I’d been particularly disappointed, especially after our kisses in the limo.

  “Why not?” Shane shrugged, snapping me from thoughts of Cole. Focus, focus, focus. Dating more than one guy was exhausting.

  “You don’t strike me as the type of guy to make decisions on a whim,” I pushed.

  He chuckled. “No? No spontaneous Shane moniker?”

  I shook my head. “Perhaps, but it seems unlikely.”

  “To answer your question, we wanted to launch a business together, and Vegas seemed like the perfect location.”

  “How has that worked out for you?”

  “Only time will tell.” While the waiter refilled our drinks, Shane scanned his phone again and sighed. “I apologize, one of my business partners keeps calling.”

  “Do you need to take it?” I offered, wondering if it was an excuse to get out of the date. Considering Shane’s irritation, I didn’t think so. Was Nicholas or Cole calling? Did they know Shane was out with me?

  “Enough about me.” Shane smiled, clearly eager to resume our date. “I would love to hear more about the very enticing, very enthralling Emma.”

  I laughed. “I don’t think I realized how many awesome adjectives there are that start with e.”

  “And I’m not sure I realized how many terrible ones start with s until you began pointing them out to me. Although, I have to confess, I may have consulted the internet.”

  “I’m so disappointed in you, sycophantic Shane,” I chided.

  “Did you just call me psychopathic? Because that definitely starts with a p, not an s.”

  “No, I said, ‘sycophantic.’” I laughed. “You can look it up later, you know, on the internet.”

  “Never heard of it; you probably made it up. And don’t tell me you’ve come up with all those s words on your own.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Do you have some weird words app on your phone?”

  “I most certainly do not,” I protested.