What Happens in Vegas - A Reverse Harem Romance Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  1 - Lauren

  2 - Lauren

  3 - Lauren

  4 - Lauren

  5 - Lauren

  6 - Lauren

  7 - Lauren

  8 - Brody

  9 - Lauren

  10 - Lauren

  11 - Corey

  12 - Lauren

  13 - Lauren

  14 - Lauren

  15 - Lauren

  16 - Brody

  17 - Lauren

  18 - Lauren

  19 - Lauren

  20 - Lauren

  21 - Lauren

  22 - Corey

  23 - Lauren

  24 - Lauren

  25 - Lauren

  26 - Lauren

  27 - Lauren

  28 - Mason

  29 - Lauren

  30 - Lauren

  31 - Lauren

  32 - Lauren

  33 - Lauren

  34 - Lauren

  35 - Lauren

  36 - Brody

  37 - Lauren

  38 - Lauren

  39 - Lauren

  40 - Lauren

  41 - Lauren

  42 - Lauren

  43 - Lauren

  44 - Corey

  45 - Lauren

  46 - Lauren

  47 - Mason

  48 - Lauren

  49 - Lauren

  50 - Lauren

  51 - Lauren

  52 - Brody

  53 - Lauren

  54 - Lauren

  55 - Lauren

  56 - Lauren

  57 - Lauren

  58 - Lauren

  59 - Lauren

  60 - Lauren

  61 - Lauren

  62 - Lauren

  63 - Lauren

  Epilogue

  Three Alpha Romeo

  About the Author

  What Happens

  In Vegas

  A Reverse

  Harem Romance

  Krista Wolf

  Copyright © 2019 Krista Wolf

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form without prior consent of the author.

  Cover image: Stock footage — story is unrelated to subject/models

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  ~ Other Books by Krista Wolf ~

  Quadruple Duty

  Quadruple Duty II - All or Nothing

  Shared

  Snowed In

  Unwrapping Holly

  Protecting Dallas

  The Arrangement

  Three Alpha Romeo

  What Happens in Vegas

  Chronicles of the Hallowed Order

  Book one: Ghosts of Averoigne

  Book two: Beyond the Gates of Evermoore

  Book three: Claimed by the Pack

  One

  LAUREN

  The sun woke me up more than anything else, kissing my skin warmly through the hotel window. It contrasted perfectly with the cool sheets, as I stretched diagonally across my king-sized bed.

  Las Vegas.

  It was the first vacation I’d taken in years — an entire week in the City of Sin. Seven nights of freedom, of letting loose. Of being free from work, and commitment, and everything else.

  Seven wonderful nights with five of my closest friends…

  … who as of today, were already on flights back to New York.

  Damn.

  It had been fun, at first. Dinner, drinks, dancing. Staying up all night and laughing as hard as we used to, back in the carefree days of zero responsibility.

  But somewhere around day three, everything fell apart. It was a long, sad story filled with husbands and kids and homesickness. Overprotective fiancés and jealous boyfriends.

  All except for me — happily divorced for over a year now. Stranded in Vegas, wondering what to do now that the others had all gone home…

  I sat up, dizzily. I wasn’t exactly hungover, but the taste of last night’s wine still lingered at the back of my throat. How much did I drink at the hotel bar? And then afterward, back at my room?

  You went out, remember?

  Oh yeah, I had. I’d gotten dressed to kill and decided to walk the strip, or at least as much of it as I could without getting into trouble. And then…

  My hand sifted through my hair as I glanced down at the floor. There was a piece of paper there. Crumpled halfway into a ball.

  No, not a piece of paper.

  A shiver of fear shot through me. Slowly, gradually, bits and pieces of last night came floating back.

  It’s a flyer.

  My arm shook as I reached out to pick it up. I remembered now. On the way back to the hotel, I’d pulled it from one of the street poles along the strip, and taken it with me.

  I unfolded the sheet of paper apprehensively, like I was solving some great mystery. But somehow, in the back of my mind, I already knew exactly what it would say:

  ATTENTION:

  All Visiting Ladies!

  Looking for a wild night of

  DOUBLE

  the carnal pleasure?

  ~ YOU are attractive, open minded,

  sexy, and not afraid to fulfill

  your wildest, deepest fantasies.

  ~ WE are handsome, clean, physically

  fit, and willing to make those

  fantasies a reality!

  As college-age best friends, we’ve done

  this before and it’s always amazing.

  In fact, we’re pretty damned good at it.

  Take it from us (literally!)

  NO STRINGS NO MONEY

  NO GUILT NO PRESSURE

  Just two unbelievably hot guys…

  and you.

  Double the pleasure.

  Twice the enjoyment.

  WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS

  STAYS IN VEGAS!

  (but the memories go home with you forever…)

  At the bottom of the page was a contact number, and a pair of very sexy names: Brody and Corey.

  HOLY.

  SHIT.

  I scrambled for my phone, on the opposite nighttable. Swiping it open, my worst fears were realized.

  You didn’t…

  Oh, but I did. As sure as the memory came rushing back, I saw the three-word text-message I’d sent to that number, in all caps, somewhere around two-o’clock in the morning:

  MIGHT BE INTERESTED.

  I swallowed, but nothing went down. My mouth was too dry. There were a few short responses beneath my text — three of them, in fact. But of way more interest to me were the two photos above my message.

  Photos of myself.

  I scrolled up fearfully. There I was, taking photos of myself in the hotel suite’s full-length mirror. I was smiling back in my slinky green dress, one leg poking seductively through the slit in one side. Two quick shots, one from the front — with my tits pushed together — and one from the side.

  Relief flooded through me. At least I hadn’t been naked. And if I were being honest, the shots looked good. Damned good. Almost like I knew what I was doing.

  I sighed and checked the photos again. They were nothing I wouldn’t mind anyone seeing, really. I’d worked hard in the ten years since I’d dropped out of college, to stay in shape. I had curves, but they were all good curves. Regular workouts at the gym had helped me keep those curves in all the right places.

  My stomach lurched as I scrolled down, to see the responses beneath my text. There
were three of them, sent five minutes apart.

  Hey sexy!

  You there?

  You look amazing. Get back to us.

  I could only imagine what was going through my mind. Or what would’ve happened if I hadn’t passed out! I could remember kicking off my heels. Wriggling out of the dress and laying back, just to close my eyes for a little while…

  And now here I was. So alone and lonely I’d pulled some dirty flyer down from a Vegas pole and texted photos of myself to some random guy. No, scratch that. Two random guys.

  Two random guys who would’ve come up to your room last night…

  My stomach did another backflip. I looked at the flyer again.

  DOUBLE the carnal pleasure.

  A whole year. That’s how long it had already been. Over a full year since the divorce, since Rob had left. A year since returning to a single life that hadn’t included a single date with a single guy, not even counting—

  The sudden ringing of my phone caused me to nearly jump out of my skin! I glanced down, to where a number flashed across the screen. It was a strange number. A number I didn’t immediately recognize…

  … at least not until I looked to the bottom of the flyer, still in my other hand.

  Two

  LAUREN

  The phone was on its second ring before I even realized what was happening. By the third ring, my heart was beating a mile a minute.

  Don’t pick it up.

  It was my first instinct. Such an easy thing to do; to simply ignore it. Just let it ring a few more times, and go to voicemail.

  Still…

  The phone rang a third time. A fourth. Why did I feel so anxious all of a sudden? All I had to do was not do anythin—

  “Hello?”

  It happened mechanically, without me even realizing. Or maybe I did realize it, and I’d done it anyway. But somehow, some way or another… I’d actually answered.

  “Hi there!” a voice on the other end answered smoothly. “This is Brody.”

  I froze. The walls of my throat felt literally locked against one another. A long, agonizing moment passed.

  “Hello?” the voice said hesitantly.

  “B—Brody,” I somehow managed to say.

  “Brody and Corey, actually,” the voice said. God, it was such a cute voice. No, that wasn’t right. It was a hot voice. A deep, masculine voice full of strength and stamina and—

  “We received a couple of texts from this phone number last night,” the voice went on. Then, after another awkward pause: “Was that you?”

  I looked down, and the arm holding the phone was shaking! I couldn’t believe it. I was still in shock.

  “Maybe you picked up one of our flyers?”

  “I— I…”

  My stomach was in knots. It felt like a hot knife, twisting around in my gut. A really weird feeling.

  But at the same time, I sort of liked it.

  “Yes,” I said at last, adding a nervous chuckle. “That would’ve been me. And I’m really sorry,” I added. “I totally didn’t mean to—”

  “Please,” the velvety voice said. “Don’t be sorry. In fact, Corey and I were pretty excited to get your message. And especially your photos.”

  My stomach lurched again, this time in a different direction. It was like being on a roller coaster of highs and lows.

  “By the way, you’re very beautiful,” the man on the phone said admiringly. “And really sexy.”

  The knife twisted again. The heat in my belly was dipping lower now. Dropping to a more dangerous, forbidden place.

  “I— I don’t know if I really meant to send those,” I said hesitantly. “I mean, I was… it was really late, and I was thinking of… well…”

  “Hey listen,” said Brody, “we totally get it. You were nervous. Apprehensive. Or maybe you had a few drinks, you were just lonely…”

  Yes, I thought to myself. And yes.

  “It’s all totally understandable,” Brody went on. “Sometimes things look better at night than they do in the morning.” He let out an honest laugh. “It’s all good.”

  “No, no,” I jumped in. “It’s not like that.”

  My whole body shuddered with excitement. I couldn’t believe what I was saying.

  “I mean, it’s not that I wasn’t into… well…” I let out an exasperated sigh. “I guess…”

  “You guess what?”

  After another pause, I laughed nervously. “I guess I don’t know what I mean.”

  My hand trembled. The phone felt warm against my ear. Long seconds of silence ticked by, and then:

  “So you’re into it?”

  My heart leapt into my throat. Of course you’re not into it! Tell him you’re not into—

  “I— I really don’t know…”

  Brody chuckled in a soothing, non-mocking way. “It’s okay, we get it. No rush here. This certainly isn’t something for everyone.” He cleared his throat huskily. “Let’s start with your name.”

  Your name? I froze again. Don’t tell them your name!

  “Lauren,” I blurted helplessly.

  Idiot!

  “Hmmm…” the voice on the other end purred. “Lauren’s a sexy name.”

  I had to laugh. “I’ll bet you say that to all the girls.”

  “Oh I definitely do,” Brody allowed, chuckling right back at me. “But in this case, fact is still fact.”

  I couldn’t believe it. I was actually flirting with this guy! And he, of course, was flirting right back with me.

  “Are you still in Vegas tonight, Lauren?” the voice asked, after another spat of silence.

  I nodded silently before speaking. “Yes.”

  “Good,” said Brody. “I’ve got an idea then. Wanna hear it?”

  “Sure.”

  “Let’s try this: You take the day. Go out, do your thing, enjoy the beautiful sights in Vegas. And then later tonight, after dinner? You meet us for drinks. Corey and I.”

  The lump was back in my throat again. It was competing with the knife in my belly.

  “Drinks?”

  “Yes, drinks,” he replied innocently. “Your hotel has a bar, doesn’t it?”

  “Of course.”

  “There you go,” said Brody. “We’ll meet you down there, and the three of us will have a drink. Just one drink. That’s it.”

  “One drink…” I repeated.

  “Sure,” said Brody. “At worst, we’ll get to know each other a little. Share a few laughs. Maybe have some fun together, before we go our separate ways.”

  “And at best?” I found myself asking.

  “At best we’ll hit it off,” said Brody slyly. “At which point the three of us will head up to your room…”

  My legs crossed. My body stiffened.

  “… and have even more fun together.”

  There was another moment of silence. I felt queasy. Almost nauseous. At the same time though, my whole body trembled with an almost electric excitement.

  “Lauren?” the voice at the other end of the phone asked. “You still there?”

  “Yes.”

  “And?”

  I swallowed hard. Took the leap.

  “Okay. I’ll do it.”

  My shoulders slumped as the words dropped from my lips. It was a good feeling. Like all the pressure had finally been taken away.

  “Excellent!” said Brody. “Corey and I will be looking forward to it.” I could practically feel him smiling from the other end of the phone. “Let’s say nine-thirty?”

  “Nine-thirty,” I repeated. “One drink.”

  “Of course,” said Brody cheerfully. He paused for another moment. “Where are you staying?”

  “The Bellagio.”

  “Ah, you went big,” said Brody. “Very cool.”

  I glanced through my bedroom doorway, into the main area of our multi-bedroom suite. Everything was all polished marble and deep-pile carpeting. Decor that might be considered gaudy anywhere other than Las Vegas, like the gold-le
af accents on the finely-paneled walls.

  If only you knew how big, I thought to myself.

  “There’s a lounge downstairs,” Brody was saying, “called the Lily. Do you know it?”

  I actually knew it well. The girls and I had had drinks there just about every night, before going out.

  “Yes,” I replied.

  “We’ll meet you down there, then. At the bar.”

  “O—Okay,” I said, trying to rally some confidence. “Sounds good.”

  “And Lauren?”

  “Yes?”

  “Relax,” Corey chuckled gently. “This is going to be fun.”

  Three

  LAUREN

  It was one of those days that seemed to last forever, but then ended abruptly, all at once.

  I spent most of it walking the strip, from the huge fountains out in front of my hotel all the way down to the Luxor. Everything looked so different during the day. Up until now, my girlfriends and I had been enjoying Vegas mostly at night.

  As part of my vow to keep busy I stopped for brunch at Planet Hollywood. I did an hour or two of shopping at the Showcase Mall. I even dropped a little money at the roulette wheels over at the MGM Grand.

  Gambling was one of my guilty pleasures. I wasn’t a high roller or anything, but as a red-blooded New Yorker I’d been known to drive south to Atlantic City or shoot north toward Foxwoods or Mohegan Sun from time to time. My job as both a publicist and promoter had me working long hours and even longer weekends. Losing myself at these adult playplaces had always helped me blow off some steam.

  Of course, Rob never took me. In nearly ten years of marriage, I could count on one hand the number of vacations we’d had. Most of them had been conveniently designed around my husband playing golf with his friends, too. Just another thing he could’ve shared with me, but never did.