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One Night in Vegas

Page 46

by Mari Carr, Red Phoenix, Angel Payne, Sierra Cartwright, Jenna Jacob, Victoria Blue


  Fletcher grunted. “You mean our sex lives? Just say it, sugar. Sex. It’s not a bad word. Actually, I think we all just proved it’s an amazing word.”

  “All right, fine. I know all about your sexual preferences. And everyone knows people can’t be in a relationship if there are three people in the bed all the time. This is what people do to scratch an itch; let loose a little bit; cross something off their bucket list.”

  “Bucket list?” Drake tacked his stare over me, to Fletch. “Did she really just say that?”

  “I think she did.” He snapped it while standing up and pulling on his trousers. Only then did he bolt his stare back down at me. “You did all this just to mark something off your bucket list?”

  Without waiting for a reply, he glanced back at Drake. They exchanged a look I couldn’t quite distinguish, but if I had to label it, “furious” jumped to mind.

  And men claimed women were confusing?

  “Why are you so upset? I thought this was the way you guys worked.”

  “The way we ‘worked’?” Drake also shot from the bed, grabbing for his clothes.

  I sat up in the middle of the rumpled sheets, hugging the top one to my chest. “What am I missing here? You can’t seriously tell me you came into this weekend looking for anything more than a roll in the hay.”

  Drake whirled back around, eyes dark and stormy, his desire of minutes ago now eclipsed by anger. “Why? Because that’s all we’re capable of? Hell, we couldn’t possibly have feelings for you, right? After all, you have this totally figured out. I’m impressed, Talia. Really fucking impressed.”

  Fletcher rounded the foot of the bed. “Dude, stop. If you say something you can’t take back—”

  “Fuck that. I’m pissed. And for the first time in my life, I feel used. I really did go into this weekend wanting more than a fling. I have actual, real life feelings for you, Miss Perizkova—but I see now that I was mistaken when I thought you felt them too.” He buttoned up his shirt with scary speed and precision. Raked a tense hand back through his thick hair. “I’m going downstairs to the bar.”

  “Wait up, bro. I’ll come with you. Suddenly, I could use some air too.”

  “Wait. Wait. What the heck is happening here?” My whole body shook. Panic stabbed, merciless and cold. Clearly I had misunderstood their intentions. Misunderstood? How about completely misjudged? But now they were both so angry, I was too nervous to even try to talk it through.

  “You can have exactly what you wanted. I hope it was good for you, Talia.” Drake grabbed his wallet off the dresser and walked out the door. Fletcher followed, but not without looking back at me, sadness turning his eyes the color of a robin’s egg. It made my chest physically ache.

  What have I done?

  The door onto the outside hall slammed. The ensuing silence pricked instant tears to my eyes. But I sucked in a fast breath, combatting the loss. I refused to sit in our little love nest and feel sorry for myself.

  I stomped into my bathroom, then ran the water in the tub. A few minutes later, sinking up to my neck in the lavender bubbles, I tried to analyze the night.

  Drake Newland. Fletcher Ford. They were amazing lovers, the best I’d probably ever have. They were both filled with such passion and tenderness. The thought of losing them felt like an elephant sitting on my chest. I rubbed the spot over my heart, striving to massage the pain away, but nothing worked. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, but the pain persisted. I’d screwed up, and it would haunt me for the rest of my life. I’d been given not one, but two men who cared for me like nobody else ever had, and I blew it. Sent them running for the hills before we even stood a chance.

  Mama’s face came unbidden to my mind. Her nagging voice lectured into my miserable haze, chastising me about allowing this situation to happen in the first place. It served me right to be hurting. I’d brought it on myself. If I’d been acting respectably, I would have been respected.

  But they were respectful. Beyond that. They’d caressed away my stress. Knew how I liked my steak. Even on the exhibit hall floor, they’d treated me as an equal voice, a valuable business partner. And in their lovemaking, they’d redefined kind and loving and generous.

  What the hell had I done?

  I needed to apologize. As soon as they came back to the room—to see if there was any hope of salvaging all the feelings we’d unleashed not two hours ago. If it had all been real, it couldn’t just be turned on and turned off so easily, right?

  I hauled myself from the bath, feeling like I’d forged a plan. I’d do it. Would grovel and plead if I needed to. If nothing else, I still wanted Drake and Fletcher to be my friends. I enjoyed being with them so much. What would my life be like without them at all? I wasn’t ready to let go, and desperately hoped they felt the same way. Maybe we could recapture what I’d just ruined. I wouldn’t know unless I tried.

  I fell asleep on the end of my bed, door wide open, waiting for them to come back. My body was sore and tender in the most delicious ways, and I took comfort in those memories until I could fix everything else.

  They had to understand that I was just confused.

  They just had to.

  Chapter Five

  Sunlight warmed my face, waking me gently from a restless night of sleep. I still laid across the foot of my bed, but someone had covered me with a blanket. My door was open and the windows in the living room glowed with the morning desert sun stretching across the suite, shining into my room. I listened for voices or movement, but the place was still and quiet. It was well past midnight the last time I remembered checking the clock. I wasn’t sure the guys had come in at all.

  I wrapped the plush robe around myself and snuck out into the kitchenette to make some coffee. Drake was softly snoring on the sofa, so I tried to be extra quiet. When the coffee’s aroma filled the room, his eyes popped open.

  I smiled shyly, trying to gauge if he was still angry. “Want some?”

  “That would be great,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes and stretching. I couldn’t tear my eyes off his fit body as he worked out the kinks from sleeping on the sofa. Guilt coursed through my heart. I should’ve insisted on sleeping there at least one of the nights—though last night I was in no position to be insisting on anything.

  After working with the man for months, I knew Drake drank his coffee black, so I walked over to the sofa with a cup in each hand. As I stretched to hand off his mug, steaming coffee splashed over the rim and onto my wrist.

  “Oh shit!”

  He took his mug while I blew on the redness.

  Quicker than I could track, Drake set his cup down, grabbed my unburned wrist and towed me to the sink. He ran the cool water, feeling it several times with the back of his hand before thrusting my wrist under the stream.

  “You should be more careful.” He seemed annoyed.

  “I’m sorry. It just happened.”

  “It was an accident, Talia. You don’t have to apologize for things that you weren’t in control of.”

  I turned off the water and blotted my skin with a towel.

  “Maybe not, but I do need to apologize for things I brought on myself. Drake, can we sit down and talk? I really want to set things straight.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “No it’s not.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “No, but I want to. I need to.”

  “Need to what?” A shirtless Fletcher walked out from his room, just as ripped and golden and gorgeous as I remembered from last night. “Is that coffee I smell?”

  “Yes, I made a pot. Sit down and I’ll get you a cup. I really need to talk to the two of you.”

  “You sit down and I’ll get his coffee. You already have one burn.”

  “You burned yourself? Where? When? Are you okay?” Fletcher’s expression suddenly tightened upon recognizing how he instinctively cared about me.

  “She’s fine. It’s minor. Just a little red now.”

  “He’s right. I’m fine.
But will you two just let me say a few things? After that, you can decide what you want to do. If you want me to fly home commercially, I’ll understand.”

  We all sat around the low table and nursed our coffee. Finally, I gathered the courage to say something.

  “First of all, I owe you both an apology. I was being ridiculous last night and I hope you can forgive me. When we were in bed together after—well, you know, just after—I was so flooded with emotions, I got scared. That’s hard for me to admit, but that’s basically what happened. So instead of risking my heart getting hurt, I trivialized what we had just done, and that was wrong. It was so wrong.”

  “Why are you saying all of this now?” Drake was skeptical and I couldn’t blame him.

  “Because when you guys left and I had the entire night to figure out what was going on in my head…and my heart…I realized how foolish I had been. Now, all I can do is apologize and hope you can forgive me. I didn’t mean to hurt either of you. Ever. I think I’m just in way over my head.”

  “Last night went from so good to so bad, and so quickly. I didn’t understand what was going on. It was a merry-go-round of extreme emotions.” Fletcher leaned forward, elbows propped on his knees and listened, waiting for my response.

  I forced down a deep breath. “I know, and I’m so sorry. I was overwhelmed. I didn’t expect to—feel—as much as I did. I don’t think I wanted to.”

  “What does that mean? You didn’t want to?” Drake asked another very good question.

  “It means I’m feeling things for the two of you that I’m afraid of. My last relationship wasn’t very—oh, what would be a good way of putting it?”

  “Were you abused?” Fletcher growled it, always the protector.

  “Not physically,” I winced. “Well, I guess that’s not exactly true either. But mostly emotionally. And mentally. Gavin did a number on my self-esteem and confidence, especially in the bedroom…and with my ability to understand my own feelings. The ones he let me have, at least.” I nervously fingered the handle of my mug. “It took me a while to believe in myself again, to be able to trust my own heart.”

  “We need to kill the bastard.”

  “My thoughts exactly.” They fist-bumped over the preliminary plan.

  I shook my head. “He isn’t worth either of you getting into trouble, or risking getting hurt.”

  “Pffftttt.” Drake scoffed. “Marine? Remember?” He thumped the center of his chest with his thick thumb.

  “How could I forget?” I giggled and winked at him, unable to help myself. He was adorable when he was chivalrous. “So, in all seriousness, I want to ask for your forgiveness, for my words and my behavior.”

  Drake leaned over and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind my ear before letting out a weighted sigh. “I really appreciate your sincerity. I do. Last night was amazing. We both fantasized about being with you for so long. When it finally happened, it was better than either of us dreamed. If we’re coming on too strong, too fast, can you just promise to let us know? But baby—we don’t want this to be the end of the line. We want to see you and be a part of your life when we get back to San Diego. You know that Fletch and I have always dated women together, because we want to be with a woman together for the rest of our lives. This isn’t just a game to us. This is what we want. And you’re who we want.”

  I stared at him, his words cocooning me in warmth, but also overwhelming me a bit. They were willing to forgive me! I wanted to hug them both, but I could sense they needed to be heard as well.

  Fletcher stood up, walked over, then sat beside me. He took my hands in his and looked into my eyes. “We don’t need to hear the words ‘I love you’ right now, but we do need to hear you say that you will give this a try. Give us a try. We want to be with you Talia. Just you.”

  “I don’t know what to say other than I want to see you too. I’ve gotten very used to having the two of you in my life. I’m not ready to give that up yet.”

  “I think we can work with that. D?”

  “I think that’s a great place to start too.”

  We all stood and they wrapped their arms around me, making a tangle of bodies and arms. I felt like I was the luckiest girl on the planet.

  “Can we please go home now?” The last thing I wanted to do was get on a plane, but at least my heart felt much lighter. The sooner we got back to San Diego, the sooner we could get on with our lives.

  “Let’s pack up and I’ll call down to the desk for bell service. I’ll have Wesley handle the spa appointments too.”

  About an hour later, we were heading toward the front of the hotel to meet the driver who would take us to the airport. The guys called the pilot and told him we were leaving a bit ahead of schedule, but the man assured us it was no problem. We moved through the casino, hand-in-hand-in hand, until getting caught behind a human traffic jam in front of a giant, lighted wheel, spinning around and around while people stood cheering for the number they’d bet on.

  “What is this game?” I asked Fletcher, curiously.

  “Simple game of chance,” he shrugged. “You put money down on a number and the dealer spins the wheel. If your number comes up, you win.” A grin spread across his sexy mouth. “What’s your lucky number, sugar? Let’s try your luck really quick.”

  I scrunched my face and pulled away. “Oh, I don’t have a lucky number.”

  A mischievous gleam sparkled in his eyes. “Oh yes you do, Tolly. It’s three. You just haven’t fully accepted it yet.”

  Drake smirked. “I like that strategy, brother.”

  Fletcher flipped out a twenty dollar bill and placed it on the number three. The dealer let the wheel fly. We watched it go round and round, slowing down incrementally until it finally came to rest—

  On the number three.

  Fletcher leaned down and kissed me soundly on the lips. “No lucky number, huh?”

  Drake wrapped his arm around my waist on one side, Fletcher on the other, and we headed home…together.

  The End

  Thank you so much for reading this story. If you enjoyed getting to know these characters, check out the entire series. Here’s just a little taste of where it all began for the Stone family.

  ~Victoria Blue

  No Prince Charming

  The Secrets of Stone, Book 1

  By

  USA Today Bestseller

  Angel Payne

  and

  Victoria Blue

  Excerpt

  Prologue

  April

  Claire

  Oh my God.

  The words sprinted through my head, over and over, as I prodded at my lips in assurance I wasn’t dreaming. Or hopping dimensions. Or remembering the last half hour in a really crazy way. Or had hours passed, instead? I didn’t know anymore. Time was suddenly contorted.

  Oh. My. God.

  What the hell had just happened?

  Forget my lips. My whole mouth felt like I’d just had dental work done, tingling in all the places his lips had touched moments ago—which had been everywhere.

  My mind raced, trying to match the erratic beat of my heart. “Christ,” I whispered. My voice shook like a damn teenager, so I repeated myself. Because that helped, right?

  Wrong. So wrong.

  It was all because of that man. That dictatorial, demanding…

  Nerve-numbing, bone melting…

  Man.

  Who really knew how to deliver a kiss.

  Hell. That kiss.

  Okay, by this age, I’d been kissed before. I’d been everything before. But after what we’d just done, I’d be awake for long hours tonight. Long hours. Shaking with need…shivering with fear.

  I pressed the call button for the elevator with trembling fingers. Turning back to face the door I’d just emerged from, I reconsidered pushing the buzzer next to it, instead. The black lacquer panel around the button was still smudged by the angry fingerprints I’d left when arriving here not more than thirty minutes ago—ans
wering his damn summons.

  Yeah. He’d “summoned” me. And like a breathless backstage groupie, I’d dropped everything and come. Why? He was my hemlock. He could be nothing else.

  I was even more pissed now. At him. At me. At the thoughts that wouldn’t leave me alone now, all in answer to one tormenting question.

  If Killian Stone kissed like that, what could he do to the rest of my body?

  No. That kind of thinking was dangerous. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood up as if the air conditioner just kicked on at full power.

  It had been a while since I’d been with a man. At least like…that.

  Okay, it had been a long while.

  For the last three years, career had come before all else. After the disaster I simply called The Nick Years, Dad had fought hard to help rebuild my spirit, including the doors he finagled open for me. Wasting those opportunities in favor of relationships wasn’t an option. My focus had paid off, leading to a coveted position at Asher and Associates PR, where I’d quickly advanced to the elite field team for Andrea Asher herself. The six of us, including Andrea and her daughter, Margaux, were called corporate America’s “miracle cover stick.” We were brought in when the blemishes were too big and horrid for in-house PR specialists, hired on a project-by-project basis for our thoroughness and objectivity. That also meant the assignments were intense, ruthless, and very temporary.

  The gig at Stone Global was exactly such a job. And things were going well. Better than well. People were cooperating. The press was moving on to new prey. The job was actually ahead of schedule, and thank God for it. Soon, I’d be back in my rightful place at the home office in San Diego and what just happened in Killian Stone’s penthouse would remain no more than a blip in my memory. A very secret blip.

  I shook my head in defiance. What was wrong with having lived a little? At twenty-six, I was due for at least one heart-stopping kiss with a man who looked like dark sin, was built like a Navy SEAL, and kissed like a fantasy. Sweet God, what a fantasy.

 

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