Lotto Men: A Reverse Harem Romantic Comedy (Lotto Love Book 1)

by Ann Denton

  “What the—”

  I sidle over to him. “If you’re looking for breakfast, the staff just has fruit and toast in the staffroom this morning. The guys are competing today to see who can make the best breakfast.”

  “Competing for what?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What do they win?” Alec asks like I’m a complete and utter moron.

  I scowl up at him. “They’re getting ranked. Based on how they perform in all the competitions.”

  He scoffs. “They’ll work harder if they get a prize for each one.”

  “Oh, really?”

  Danny slides up behind me and puts an arm around my waist. “That’s actually true.”

  Alec’s eyes fly to Danny’s arm. And his jaw twitches. He takes a step forward.

  Danny drags me back a step, turning me back to face the room, where guys are chopping clumsily. Peter Brown’s already cut himself and is getting a band aid from Kenneth’s first aid kit. Danny’s hand strokes my hip casually.

  I mouth at him, “What the fuck?”

  He just smiles in response. While I enjoy pissing off Alec, Kenneth is in the damn room, too. And I have an arrangement with Kenneth. I step out of Danny’s hold just as Kenneth crosses toward us, heading for a trash can to throw out the used bandage wrappers.

  Kenneth winks at me. “Another arrangement?” he nods toward Danny.

  My mouth drops open. Oh shit. Oh shit, this is awkward. I need to say something to clear this up. But my mind goes one hundred percent as blank as a white board. As empty-headed as a balloon. I gape like a fish while I just drown in fucking humiliated embarrassment.

  A word finally starts to come out my mouth, “No—”

  But Danny cuts it off by pulling me further into his side and saying, “Yup. Just casual, though. She only does fuck buddies.”

  I’m burning. Literally tied to a pole and set on fire like one of those spinning screaming fireworks. Every single one of my sense is sounding the alarm, blaring, ‘Take cover!’ and ‘Abandon ship!’ but my stupid feet are concrete blocks. I’m about to lose the best fuck buddy I’ve ever had in my life. The most insane, crazy, but best orgasms of my life are about to vanish. Because Kenneth’s about to blow up.

  Kenneth scans Danny up and down. Then his eyes flicker to me. And back to Danny.

  He licks his lips and asks, “You call dibs on tonight?”

  Danny grins and pulls me in tighter. “Yup.”

  To my utter shock and amazement, Kenneth nods. I’m pretty sure a meteor has hit the earth and the apocolypse has happened. I’m pretty sure I’ve been abducted by aliens and they’re experimenting on the synapses in my brain right now. What the fuck? Kenneth is okay with this? Okay with another guy? No, I’m misreading this. Completely misreading—

  But Kenneth says, “If you get tonight, then I call tomorrow—”

  “No can do,” Alec steps in between Kenneth and Danny. He latches onto my upper arm and yanks me out of Danny’s grip. I stumble slightly before regaining my balance and staring at him: his buzzed hair, his skin-tight, totally pilot-inappropriate black t-shirt, his army fatigues.

  Has he been replaced by aliens too? What the hell is going on here? I’ve stepped into another dimension.

  “If Katie has arrangements with both of you, then she gets to decide what, where, and when. You idiots should leave that up to the lady. But tonight, she’s working.”

  I turn to him and furrow my brow. “I am?”

  “Yes,” Alec growls. And his gaze gets that intense, heated look we’ve shared before. “You’re gonna tell these idiots,” he jerks his head toward Heather’s guys, “that whoever wins this cooking challenge gets an individual date.”

  “I am?” I’m so lost, my brain is just trying to catch up. But the event planner in me spots a giant, gaping hole in his plan. “I don’t have a date planned for—”

  “Remember the ostracods?” Alec asks.

  My eyes widen. He means the vomiting animal thingies? I nod.

  “My friend’s taking us out on the boat tonight.”

  “Us?”

  “Heather and her date. And you and me. That was the agreement.” His tone is gruff, but he’s breathing quickly. His eyes are bright. I think he likes the idea that one of the guys might punch him for stealing me away.

  I kind of like the idea of the three of them brawling over me, too. My lady parts tighten at the thought.

  I look back at the other two. Kenneth’s smirking. Danny’s pouting. But neither say boo. No fight will be happening. I guess Alec just oozes too much alpha-male to be challenged.

  But … wait.

  “I thought you said I get to choose what, where, and when.” I narrow my eyes on him. He wants to make rules for Kenneth and Danny but not himself? Asshole.

  Alec steps into my space. And sexual energy bites at my lady bits like a little yapping puppy nips at ankles. Non-fucking-stop. Everything about Alec screams, ‘I’m gonna take what I want. I’m gonna do what I want. Right now, what I want is to take and do you.’ My nipples pebble and I clench my thighs together. Alec gives me a grin. But it’s not a happy grin. It’s a knowing grin.

  “You and I don’t have an arrangement. Yet.”

  He spins around and leaves the room. All the air leaves with him.

  Fuck. Who’d have thought one little word would turn my world upside down?

  I can’t wait until ‘yet’ happens.

  Chapter Twenty

  Alec’s right. Once Heather’s guys hear that they can win an individual date, the big guns come out. What started with fruit parfaits and oatmeal becomes pancakes and ‘my grandma’s secret seasoned potatoes.’ The air gets frenzied.

  BJ from Brooklyn smashes his egg too hard and the shell shatters into microscopic pieces inside his bowl. He goes to dump his egg out and grab a new one from the fridge. But there are no more eggs in the fridge. BJ’s eyes and mine scan the room to see what the hell’s going on.

  At the back of the kitchen, I spot the reason. Peter Brown is turning out to be slicker than a greased racoon. The fucker has taken all the eggs left, cracked them, and dumped them into a giant bowl. He’s whisking them and whistling. He bites back a grin when BJ realizes where the eggs have gone.

  “Sorry bro, making a breakfast casserole.”

  “You feeding a football team? Gimme a damn egg,” BJ demands, getting in Peter’s face.

  “Whoa, back off. The challenge is to impress Heather, not be a dick,” Peter says.

  “Only one being a dick here is you,” BJ snarls.

  Oh shit. The testosterone levels are going nuts. One of them is about to cloud up and rain down hell on the other. And I’ve got to stop it. Fuck. Next event, I’m hiring a bouncer. I take a step forward.

  But then the conflict takes a turn I didn’t foresee.

  To my right, Jeremiah Bible’s meal melts into a horrid mess. He looked up some bell pepper and egg recipe on his phone. I saw the picture: the bell pepper is supposed to act like a pretty red outline and hold the fried eggs inside. Jeremiah’s peppers have collapsed, his yolks are punctured, and his creation looks more like a monster that got in a fight and lost a yellow eye.

  “Fucking shit!” Jeremiah turns and points a finger at Peter. “You’re gonna share those damn eggs or I’m gonna make sure you wear them.”

  A huge roller-coaster sized wave of discomfort rolls over me. Holy hell. These men are acting crazier than sprayed wasps. And they seem just as likely to sting. I wring my hands. I’m about to call the whole thing off when—

  “FUUUUUCK!” A yell has all heads turning to Anthony Drake. Blondie was making waffles. Right now, he’s cradling his right hand.

  Kenneth runs over with a cool damp towel and wraps it around the burn. He unplugs the waffle iron.

  Heather comes by and fusses over Drake, giving him a little kiss to make him feel better, which was probably a mistake.

  Andrew gets so distracted watching them kiss that his toast turns bl
ack and sets off the fire alarm, which wails like an infant.

  Can nothing go right this morning? These aren’t even the hard competitions.

  I jog over to get a stepstool and put it under the alarm. Only, I’m not tall enough to reach it even with the stepstool. Strong arms come around my waist and hoist me up.

  Danny sets me on his right shoulder and climbs the stepstool himself, making it easy for me to reach out and push the button to stop the obnoxious thing. I hold onto him carefully as he climbs back down, and I pretend not to notice the way he drags my body against his. But his eyes catch mine and that blue fire heats my core.

  I blush and look away. I don’t have time to flirt right now. I need to see if Tony needs to go to the hospital. We’re still down the jet for another night or two—so I’ll have to get him to a hospital by boat.

  Luckily, the burn is pretty minor, and I have some burn cream in my villa.

  Before I leave, I tell the guys, “We’re going to delay the next two challenges until this afternoon.”

  Heather interjects. “They’re getting delayed because y’all are acting like shitheads. I expect everyone to be better behaved then.” She gives them the stink eye.

  I fold my fingers together like a schoolteacher well-practiced in scolding. “Otherwise, you will be looking at a plane ride home.” I try to sound fierce. I hope I sound fierce. I know I at least make an effort to frown. But the guys are looking so fucking sullen. “Go chill out by the beach for a bit.”

  “Hey, what about this challenge?” BJ asks. “We haven’t finished. Who wins?”

  I look to Heather. She walks around from station to station. It’s a sad state of affairs. Heather’s braver than I am, because she even puts her lips on some of the things they cooked, which look like soggy brown mush.

  “Tony wins,” she says. His waffles weren’t totally burnt, but they definitely didn’t look edible. It’s a total pity win and everyone knows it. But, considering how awful the rest of the food looks, nobody really has a leg to stand on if they argue. I suppose I should have picked a couple cooks for one or two of the harem candidates. Live and learn.

  As the disappointed guys put their dishes in the sink, Kenneth sidles up to me and says, “You let them violate my kitchen.”

  I lean in and whisper, “I didn’t think it would be this bad. I’ll make it up to you.”

  “You’d better.”

  “I’ll let you violate me again.”

  His smile widens and he winks, before he throws a dishtowel over his shoulder like it’s an Armani jacket and saunters away.

  Heather comes up to me next. “Peter’s out.” Her tone is clipped because she’s so ticked.

  I sigh. But, obviously, today has proven Peter not only likes ass, he is one. “I’m gonna get Tony some burn cream and then I’ll figure out Peter. We don’t have a plane right now. So, I might have to get him on a boat to another island and fly him out commercial or something.”

  She nods. “Whatever we have to do. But he’s gone beyond funny and now he’s just a jerk.”

  “I’ll let him know.”

  “No need. PETER!” she bellows, “Pack your bags! You’re a jerk. We don’t do jerks in my harem.”

  Everyone stops and stares at Heather and then at Peter. He glowers, tosses down his bowl of eggs so that they splatter everywhere, and stomps off.

  Great. Public humiliation is gonna put him in an awesome mood when I have to discuss logistics. Thanks for that, Heather.

  I snag Anthony and lead him back to my villa. Danny tags along. I’m not exactly sure why, unless he thinks Peter might be a jerk to me when I talk to him next. I don’t say anything. I’m just grateful for the backup. Especially when he helps me search my boxes for the medical supplies.

  We have to dig through six boxes before I can get Mr. Drake some cream and send him on his way, but I do have to let him know, “Unfortunately, our next challenge this afternoon is physical. I’m not sure you’ll be able to do it with the burn. I have bandages but still, I don’t know if you should risk it.”

  He just shakes his head. “Had to be my hand. Okay. I’ll let you know how I feel.”

  “Sure thing. And if you need anything, more cream or even if you wanna go get looked at by a doctor, let me know. I can get that all arranged for you.”

  Danny wanders around my villa as I pack up a couple extra bandages and wraps for Tony Drake. He fiddles with things. And then he turns to me, holding up the corn cob. “What’s this?” he asks.

  I don’t even blush. I go straight to beet-colored. I just shrug and pretend I don’t know as I hand Tony a little basket of burn care items. I walk Tony to the door and hold it for him. As he heads down the path, his phone rings. I’m about to head in when I hear him yelling at the phone.

  I turn back and hear him say, “That’s not what I fucking I sent. I told you what I think the story is. The guy who was trying to buy twenty-thousand tickets!”

  He disappears around the corner and I wonder briefly what the hell he’s so mad about. Is it work again? Maybe he does have anger issues. I’ll watch him tonight on the ostracod date. If my spidey-senses tingle, I’ll let Heather know to boot him.

  I don’t have more than a second to ponder, because Danny’s arms wrap around my waist. He leans down until his head rests on my shoulder and asks, “You staring at his ass?”

  “No. Don’t you always walk people to their door to say goodbye? It’s polite.”

  “Always.”

  “Lie.”

  He chuckles, which makes my shoulder shake. “Alright. That was a lie. But, now that I know it’s a thing for you, I’ll make sure to walk you to the door.”

  “You don’t need to do that.”

  “I want to do that.”

  “But, why?” I step forward, out of Danny’s hold and onto my porch. I turn to face him. “Why would you want to do that?”

  “Because I like you and you like me.”

  “I’m too old for you.”

  “Lie.”

  “I have an arrangement with Kenneth.”

  “So?”

  “So, isn’t that like cheating?”

  He tilts his head and stares at me. “You’re hosting a harem competition. For guys who are cool with sharing a woman.”

  I point out the obvious. “You aren’t in the competition.”

  “But I am a consenting adult—”

  “Barely.”

  He puts his fingers over my lips so he can finish. “And Kenneth and I have come to an understanding.”

  I narrow my eyes and pull his hands away from my mouth. “Which is?”

  “You saw in the kitchen. We’ll trade nights.” His arms wrap around my lower back and he pulls me in, so our bodies are touching.

  The move is very, very distracting. I feel him start to harden against me. And then, somehow, I’m not thinking about how this might be wrong. Or how someone could get hurt this way. I’m staring at the unbelievable blue shade of Danny’s eyes. And then I’m guessing at Danny’s length as it presses into my stomach. Just over seven inches if I had to bet on it. I lick my lips subconsciously and he smiles.

  “So, that’s a yes? We’re fuck buddies?” he waggles his hips harder against me.

  Somehow I resist and pull away. Danny’s tropical heatwave hot. But, he’s young. And I feel like I’d be taking advantage. I try an underhanded compliment. “You’re too hot for me. You’ll lose interest in five seconds.”

  “Lie again,” he grins. “Your tits are bangin’.” He eyes them and licks his lips lewdly.

  He’s ridiculous. But I bite down on laughter so I can attempt to sound disapproving. “That just reinforces my ‘too old for you’ argument.”

  He laughs. “I was just trying to piss you off.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugs. “It’s cute when you scrunch your nose.”

  I narrow my eyes and then realize I’m also scrunching my nose. I try to relax, but dammit, years of making an angry face are ingrai
ned. “You need a real relationship. Then you’d realize everything you just said was the worst thing a guy could say.”

  “I can’t have a real relationship.”

  “Lie.”

  He shakes his head solemnly. His eyes get a little soft and sad. “Nope. Would you want a real relationship with a guy who’s a compulsive liar?” He waits a second, then says, “No one does. They find out and—” he snaps.

  Pity surges like a wave through me. “Danny …” I reach for his hand and grasp it in both of mine. “You’re a good guy in spite of that.”

  He gives me the saddest smile in the world. He looks like those cute puppies at the pound whose eyes grow wide as they watch you walk away, leaving them behind. I always want to adopt all those puppies. Their longing look breaks my heart, because that look says that all they ever wanted was for you to choose them.

  Danny’s breaking my heart right now.

  He uses his thumb to stroke the edge of my hand. After a moment, he says, “It started after I didn’t make the team.”

  I know without him saying the word that he’s talking about the compulsion to lie. “The Olympics?”

  He nods and stares off at the trees. A parrot squawks and flutters to the ground, then back into the tree again, undecided. I just wait with Danny in silence, respecting his confession, his moment. After a while, he continues, “You want to know a secret? I was relieved. When I didn’t make the team, I was relieved.”

  I hear a crack in his voice that tells me he’s being honest. His eyes look wide, a little scared, as they meet mine. I think that might be the first time Danny’s said how he really felt out loud.

  I hold his gaze a minute, trying to reassure him.

  Slowly, it dawns on me why he probably felt relieved. “Your family really wanted you in the Olympics, didn’t they?”

  He swallows hard and nods. I squeeze his hands. “I’m gonna tell you what Heather told me. What I still struggle with every day. ‘It’s okay if you aren’t who your family wants you to be. You just be you.’”

  He bites his lip and looks back out at the trees. His eyes might be the tiniest bit damp.