by Terry Towers
Would he be better in bed then Alex? Her sex life with Alex was okay, not
mind-blowing like what she read in erotica and romance novels, but she doubted
sex was that explosive in real life anyhow. But as she continued to look at the
bellhop she found herself interested in finding out.
“Ma’am?”
She gave her head a shake at her foolish ideas and gave him a tight smile.
“That’s all. Thank you.”
“If you need anything, you know where to find me.”
She watched him leave and then went about inspecting the room. Champagne
was sitting on the table in the kitchen, chilling on ice. As she wandered into the
bedroom, she found rose petals scattered over the bedspread and a bouquet of roses
and box of chocolates sitting next to it. She picked up the flowers, brought them up
to her nose and inhaled deeply, taking in the sweet scent.
Her mind drifted back to the bellhop. Would it be so bad for her to indulge in a
night with someone? God knows, it had been suggested to her by numerous friends
before she left. But no. She wanted a connection with someone, needed a
connection. Could sex even be satisfying without that loving bond established
beforehand?
She huffed, disgusted at herself. Yeah, ’cause that worked out so well with Alex.
Maybe her friends had it right. No strings attached – just sex – taking pleasure in
the strength and heat of a beautiful man you barely knew.
If only I were that type of girl…
Placing the flowers back next to the bed she went over to her suitcases and
began rummaging through her clothing until she came to a beautiful, cream
coloured Gucci dress. Stripping off her jeans and t-shirt she proceeded to change,
slipping into the dress and spending the next half an hour primping until everything
from her accessories to her make-up was perfect.
Once done she walked over to the mirror and examined herself. Her straight,
black hair fell to the small of her back. It had a glossy shine that most women
envied. She was about twenty-five pounds overweight, but it was in all the right
places, giving her soft feminine curves. Her emerald green eyes were accented
with rich black cat-eye make-up. She looked good, sexy. But instead of making her
feel good, it only made her feel more confused. If Alex didn’t want her because of
the way she looked then what was it? What about her made him not want to be
with her? She shook her head, grimacing; she hadn’t a clue.
With a sigh, she gathered her golden Chanel double-flap handbag, stuffed her
wallet and casino vouchers in it and exited the room. The casino gave her five
hundred in casino money as part of the honeymoon package, so she figured she
might as well use it while she decided on her next course of action.
~*~*~*~*~*~
~ Dane ~
Between poker hands, Dane Porter watched the raven-haired woman as she
played the slot machines across from him. He’d been winning until she showed up,
however, now he was losing virtually every hand. Disgusted with himself for
allowing the vixen to distract him, he decided to give the cards a rest – for now.
His dick was taking over his mind and there wasn’t much he could do about it –
except find a way to satisfy the urge she was provoking within him. And what
better way than introducing himself?
Walking over to her, he leaned over her shoulder. “Anyone sitting here?” he
motioned toward the seat next to her.
She paused with her hand on the lever, about to pull down and spin the wheels.
She looked from the vacant chair to him. Releasing the lever she spun her swivel
chair around to face him, nibbling on her lower lip as her eyes did a more thorough
inspection of him.
Not quite expecting her to be so brazen, Dane found himself slightly
uncomfortable. “…But if it’s taken…”
A smile formed on her lips, amusement in her stunning green eyes. “Is that what
constitutes a pick-up line around here?”
He clucked his tongue off of the roof of his mouth and shrugged. “Not sure, I’m
vacationing here from New York.” He extended his hand to her. “Dane Porter.”
Her face brightened at the mention of New York. “That so? I’m also from New
York. What are the chances?”
He winked as he sat down next to her. “I think it’s destiny.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Okay, that was just cheesy. I expect more from a
New Yorker, you’re disappointing me.”
“Oh, come on! Give a guy a break here. I’m trying to get to know you.” He shot
another smile her way. Usually women swooned when he turned on the charm. It
was evident she was going to be a little harder, but there was nothing he liked more
than a little challenge.
Her expression softened. “I apologize.” She extended her hand to him. “I’m
Genevieve Fennel.”
“Genevieve? What a beautiful name.”
“You can call me Ginny.”
“Staying here at the hotel?” He popped his member card into the machine,
slipped in a fifty-dollar bill and waited for the credits displayed on the reader.
“I am. You?”
“I am. A suite on the top floor.” He pulled the lever and the wheels began to
spin. “So what brings you to Vegas?”
She shrugged. “I’m on my honeymoon.”
He froze for a moment. Well, shit. His smile fell. He was really hoping she’d be
available. He cleared his throat and pulled the lever again. “Well, congratulations.”
“No need. It’s a solo honeymoon.”
His brow furrowed, confused. Solo honeymoon? He turned his attention back to
her. “I don’t follow.” His eyes lowered to her left hand where a wedding ring
should be, but her finger was barren of said ring and he noticed a faint white mark
where a ring used to be.
“I was stood up at the altar and the reservations were non-refundable. Being that
you’re also staying in the suites you can imagine the amount of money that would
go to waste if I didn’t come.” She shrugged, her smile turning rueful. “So here I
am.”
Dane was struck speechless for a moment. What do you say to a newly jilted
bride-to-be? “I’m sorry to hear that.” Yup, that was the best he could come up
with.
She laughed softly. “Don’t be. You had nothing to do with it. It was for the
best.”
“Were you with him long?”
“Eight years. High school sweethearts.”
“Oh, ouch.” He turned back to the slot machine, focusing on that a moment as
he tried to decide on the best course of action. Stay and try to score, or let her go. It
was a tough one.
He watched her out of the corner of his eye as they played, listing the pros and
cons in his head. Pro, she was fucking hot. Stunning. And the ache in his groin was
becoming a nuisance. Con, she’s fresh out of a relationship. She could be
vulnerable and maybe a little too needy for a one-nighter at this point. She was
young, he guessed early twenties. If she was with her former fiancé for eight years
she may have only ever been with one man so she was virtually a virgin.
Dane clucked his tongue off the roof of his mouth. Was her being inexperienced
a con? Nope, nope it wasn’t. He switched that over to the pros list.
“What, is there something in my teeth or something?”
“Huh?” He was so engrossed in his mental list-making that he’d stopped
playing completely and discovered he was staring at her.
“You’re staring. I won’t lie. It’s kinda creepy.” Despite her words, there was a
twinkle in her eyes and a smile on her perfectly painted lips.
He could feel himself flushing. He wasn’t one to get embarrassed easily, but
being caught ogling her did it. Maybe because she didn’t appear like the average
girl he would go for. Looking at her, he could tell she had class. Everything from
her poise, to her clothing and how perfectly made up she was screamed it. Nope,
she wasn’t the typical club hooch he had a tendency to gravitate to.
“Your ex must have been an idiot.” He didn’t mean to say the words, but seeing
her smile widen and her cheeks turn an alluring shade of pink made him glad he
did.
“Wanna hear something crazy?”
“Sure, I love crazy.”
“He’s a lawyer and it was with one of his co-workers. Cliché, huh?”
“Very. And the fact he’s a lawyer just confirms my opinion that he’s a douche.”
“Not a fan of lawyers, huh?” She’d lost all interest in the machine in front of her
and her complete attention was on him – just how he liked it.
“I’m a cop; it’s in our nature to hate lawyers.”
“He was a defense lawyer.”
Dane groaned loudly, making a show out of his mock displeasure, pleased to
see her giggling at his antics. “Those are the worst kinds. He did ya a solid.”
The dark-haired beauty laughed. “You think?”
“I know.”
~*~*~*~*~
~ Genevieve ~
“Splatterzone!” the ticket taker who was dressed up like some sort of zombie-
demon cried out, waving their tickets in the air.
Genevieve frowned as she looked down at her cream-coloured dress and Chanel
handbag. Splatterzone didn’t sound very good to her. “What’s the Splatterzone?”
she asked.
“You’re going to get fucked up,” the zombie-demon man explained. “Here’s
your t-shirt. And go over there and smile or scream or whatever for the camera for
your before pictures.”
What the fuck? She looked up nervously at Dane, who merely grinned as they
stood in front of a wall featuring the cast of The Evil Dead Musical.
“Don’t forget to look scared!” a demon behind the camera instructed.
She didn’t have to try to act scared, she was scared – terrified. Her Chanel purse
retailed for close to five thousand dollars. Dane wrapped his arm around her
shoulders and pulled her tight, leaning into her as the camera flashed.
“Come with me and I’d suggest putting your t-shirts on otherwise your clothes
is goin’ ta get fucked up,” a female zombie-demon said.
“Yeah, the first zombie mentioned that,” she muttered, pulling the t-shirt over
her head. Luckily it fell to her mid-thigh, covering her purse as well as most of her
dress. Thank God for small miracles.
How did I get myself roped into this? She looked to her left, caught Dane’s eyes
and smiled. My hormones, that’s how. Guess this is what happens when you have a
fiancé who has more sex than you.
After an hour of small talk while losing their money at the slot machines, Dane
announced he had a brilliant idea for a fun evening out. Now here they were, at
The Evil Dead Musical being seated in the first row center by a female zombie-
demon, preparing to be “fucked up.”
“Just so you know, please turn off and put away all cell phones,” the zombie-
demon usher stated, motioning to their seats.
“Or they’ll get fucked up?” Genevieve offered, giving her a half-grin.
The zombie-demon grinned, or at least grinned as well as the prosthetic
covering her face would allow. “That’s right. We consider those glowing screens
targets.”
“For what?” Her grin faded.
Not answering, the zombie-demon turned and skipped off.
“What are they going to do to us, Dane?” Genevieve crossed one leg over the
other and squirmed in her chair, attempting to get comfortable and finding she was
squirming closer to Dane, until her body was pressed against his.
“Don’t worry, it’s not scary. It’s all in good fun.” Dane slid his arm around the
back of the chair, allowing her to get even closer. She took the invitation, drawn in
by the warmth of his body and the spicy smell of his cologne that carried citrus
undertones. It smelled good – really good. The urge to bury her face in the crook of
his neck and shoulder and bask in the smell was nearly undeniable.
“Scary I can handle.”
“Oh, you mean the Splatterzone thing.”
She nodded.
He chuckled. “It’s just fruit juice. It won’t stain or anything. At least I don’t
think it will.” He looked down at her legs, noticing the beige hem of her dress. “Oh
shit. I never thought about your dress. So sorry. I’m pretty sure it’ll come out.”
Her eyes widened, making him laugh a little harder.
“I’m very sure it’ll come out. If it doesn’t I’ll owe you a dress.” His hand
around her arm grasped her shoulder and gently squeezed it, attempting to reassure
her.
He was charming, she’d give him that. Charming and oh-my-God sexy. She
didn’t bother to hide her examination of him. She had no doubt he was a NY cop.
The black button-down shirt hugged his lean, muscular torso. Someone didn’t get a
body like his without being a physical person.
Alex was naturally lean, but not all that muscular; he always said he was too
busy to work out. And she figured that with the few extra pounds on her, who was
she to criticize? He was still a good-looking man, but he didn’t ooze sexuality like
the man sitting next to her did. And he certainly couldn’t cause a stirring between
her legs with a simple look, like Dane seemed to be able to. It was at that moment
that she came to a conclusion: Sex with Alex had been mediocre. Sex with Dane
would be mind-blowing – an experience unlike anything she’d ever experienced
before. Her body’s reaction just being near him confirmed it.
“Welcome everybody!” Her ponderings were interrupted by the sound of a
fourth zombie-demon as he raced down the aisle to the left of her and leapt onto
the stage. “There’s a few rules we have to go through before we start the show.”
She glanced up at Dane, shared a smile with him and then refocused her
attention back to the stage.
“So, if you have a cell phone put it away or –” He pointed toward Genevieve,
who gave him a deer in the headlights look until she realized there were several
hundred people awaiting her reply.
“You’ll get fucked up?”
“Exactly! You’ll get fucked up!” The zombie-demon jumped up and down a
couple of times and then refocused his attention to the crowd. “No photography. If
you pull out a camera it’ll –” Again, he pointed to her to provide the information.
“It’ll get fucked up,” she provided with a little more zest than the first time. The
ene
rgy of the zombie-demon was contagious, riling up the crowd.
“And if you get up during the performance you’ll –”
He didn’t even have to point to her this time for her to provide the information.
“You’ll get fucked up!” Laughing, Genevieve thrust her fist in the air, accenting
her point.
Hearing Dane laughing, she looked up at him and caught his gaze. Their eyes
locked a moment and she felt an electricity flowing between them.
“You’ll get fucked up!” he confirmed. “Now, time for the show!” He leapt from
the stage as the lights began to lower.
Chapter 3
~ Genevieve ~
“Oh my God, that was insane!” Genevieve looked down at herself and gave her
head a shake in disbelief as they exited the theatre and stepped onto the sidewalk of
the strip. The t-shirt she was wearing was saturated with cherry fruit juice, and the
smell was almost overwhelming. She attempted to run a hand through her hair, but
her once silky locks were now wet and sticky.
“So you liked it?” He took her hand and they began to stroll down the strip,
heading in the direction of their hotel.
Genevieve looked up at Dane, his blonde hair in various shades of red and pink
and pink streaks running down his face. A bout of laughter overtook her.
“What?” He grinned.
She bit down on her lower lip to stop the laughter. “You look ridiculous.”
He winced, feigning hurt by her insult. “That stings a little. And here I was
thinking you looked absolutely adorable.”
She began walking backward, pulling him along with her. “I seriously doubt
that. And to clarify, your look is a ridiculous cute.”
He narrowed his eyes at her as he began to walk forward, being her eyes to keep
her from bumping into someone. “I didn’t think there was such a thing. Cute and
ridiculous just don’t go together.”
“Why can’t they go together?”
“Because they can’t. Either you’re cute or you’re ridiculous.”
A smirk emerged on her lips as she eyed him. “So you want me to drop cute
then?”
A low growl emerged from him as he stopped walking forward and pulled her
into his arms. His arms were thick and powerful as they wrapped around her,
drawing her in. The night had grown cool and the feel of his hard warm body
against hers felt amazing. She slipped her arms around his neck and pressed her