Evernight Publishing
www.evernightpublishing.com
Copyright© 2014 Michelle Graham
ISBN: 978-1-77130-759-8
Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs
Editor: Laurie Temple
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
DEDICATION
To Stacey Kennedy whose suggestions started me on the road to this story, and Jessica Subject for the valuable critique.
LOSING IT IN VEGAS
Losing It, 1
Michelle Graham
Copyright © 2014
Many people remember losing their virginity as an awkward experience filled with pain and regret. We at Losing It hope to make your first time exquisite and blissful, with none of the normal emotional hang-ups involved in a relationship.
We take your profile and carefully match it to someone who is experienced, sensitive, and willing to show you the ropes. If you’re looking for a special encounter, with no strings attached, give us a try. Your satisfaction is guaranteed.
Losing It. With no strings attached.
****
Mr. McGovern,
We are pleased to report that we have matched your profile to a young woman named Rowan Cassidy, who recently graduated with a degree in Art History, and is looking for a very special first time. Your meeting will take place in the restaurant at the Alexandria Resort in Las Vegas on April 13. This is your date’s birthday and we trust that you will make it memorable for her. Please contact us if you have any questions.
Sincerely,
Losing It
Chapter One
“Rowan, I can’t believe you’re actually going through with this,” Carly said.
Setting her makeup bag on the bathroom counter, Rowan sighed, and then switched the phone to her other ear. Her best friend since second grade, Carly had always made it her goal to look out for Rowan’s well-being. She had good intentions but she’d never understand. Everything came easily to Carly, especially in the romance department. Despite the sparkling diamond on her hand, she had to fight off advances at every turn while Rowan stood by and waited to be noticed.
“Carly, I’m already in Vegas, and while I appreciate your concern, I am going through with this date.” Rowan had sunk a sizeable chunk of her savings into this mini-vacation and she didn’t plan on backing out. Regret took too much of her time as it was.
“David’s got lots of single friends we could set you up with. Or you could just come out to the bars with us sometime and pick someone up. You didn’t have to go to the other side of the country just for sex.”
Rowan stifled another sigh. “We’ve been over this before. I hate clubs, I don’t want to risk bumping into a one-night-stand again because that would just be awkward, and besides, nobody notices me when I’m with you.”
“That’s not true,” Carly said. “You just don’t pay attention to anyone or you’d see that guys notice you.”
“Whatever,” Rowan said. The kind of notice she got always involved her chest, but didn’t extend much beyond that. When guys were so busy focusing on her boobs, they didn’t bother getting to know her. At least with this date there would be no pretense. In fact, she hoped he would focus on her boobs. And other parts. “Listen, I have to get ready so I’m going to let you go. Don’t bother calling because I’m turning my phone off for the rest of the week.”
“At least text me in the morning so I know you’re still alive and not kidnapped by some serial killer.”
“I doubt a serial killer would pay this kind of cash for a victim, Carly.”
“Please? I’ll go crazy worrying.”
“Fine, I’ll text you.”
“Okay, thanks Rowan! Use the code word cherries.”
Glad that her friend couldn’t see the way she rolled her eyes, Rowan said, “Why?”
“In case the killer takes your phone and uses it to text me while pretending to be you.”
“You read too many murder mysteries. What if the killer tortures the word out of me?”
“Shit. I hadn’t thought about that. Maybe you should call.”
“It’ll be fine.” Rowan loved Carly like a sister, but the girl had an overactive imagination and a protective streak. Once, Rowan had missed the bus to school, and Carly had gone to the office in hysterics, convinced someone had snatched Rowan from the side of the road. Then there had been the time a guy from a rival school had appeared to follow them home after a football game, and Carly had them turning corners and hiding behind bushes to get away before they realized he was visiting his aunt, a neighbor of Rowan’s.
“Okay, okay. You have a good time, and make sure that he wears a condom! You don’t know where that dick has been.”
“Yes, Mom,” Rowan replied. “Hanging up now.”
“Bye!” Carly managed to get out before Rowan turned the phone off and tucked it into her purse.
Though she wouldn’t admit it to Carly, little butterflies had taken up residence in her stomach, twisting it into ever-tightening knots. Applying to an online dating service, if you could call this dating, for one night of sex seemed a bit outrageous, but Rowan needed to finally lose her virginity. Extreme shyness and lack of confidence in her looks had held her back. Her friends all started having sex in high school, and though Rowan had dated a few guys, her relationships had never gotten that serious. So for her twenty-first birthday, she’d signed up with Losing It and used some of her savings to give herself a week at the luxurious Alexandria Resort in Vegas as a present. For once, she’d leave cautious, over-think-everything Rowan behind and be the carefree, live-in-the-moment person she’d always envied.
Rowan moved back into the bedroom and began to undress for her shower while she surveyed the accommodations. The king-size bed had a mountain of pillows arranged on top of the thick duvet. A quick peek under the duvet revealed luxurious satin sheets the deep red color of roses in full bloom. A small sitting area with a love seat and chair, plus a bistro table took up one side of the room. A basket sat on the nightstand, and when Rowan rooted around inside, she laughed. It contained a variety of condoms, some colored, some ribbed, and some, she saw with a blush, were even flavored. Several small bottles of lube completed the assortment. Picking one up, she examined the label, and then opened it and poured a drop onto her finger. The slippery fluid stayed wet as she rubbed her fingers together, reducing the friction. Would she need to use any of this? I guess we’ll have to wait and see.
A small envelope with her name sat in the basket, and she picked it up and opened it.
Dear Rowan,
Your date this evening is Bruce McGovern, and you’ll be meeting him in the restaurant downstairs for dinner at seven o’clock. Reservations have been made. We hope this basket will help you to have an enjoyable evening. Should you require additional supplies, don’t hesitate to contact the concierge. Thank you for choosing Losing It!
Rowan counted a dozen condoms. That’s optimistic. Having heard her friends talk about how painful their first times had been, Rowan doubted that she would use more than one, though it couldn’t hurt to hope for more, and a man with experience would certainly be more adept than a fumbling teenager. A quick glance at her watch told her she had two hours before she had to be downstairs. After she finished stripping down, she hopped into the shower to get ready for her
date. Even the shower is high end. The large glass enclosure could easily hold two or more people. Would Bruce want to take a shower with her? She blushed, both embarrassed and aroused at the thought.
As the water cascaded over her, she lathered up the face cloth and went to work scrubbing herself, taking extra care between her legs. In her twenty-one years, she’d learned how to bring herself to orgasm, even purchasing her first vibrator last year. But tonight, finally, it would be somebody else’s fingers down there and she wanted to make sure she made a good impression. She’d even allowed Carly to talk her into getting a Brazilian for the occasion and it still amazed her how different it felt to be smooth and bare.
After her shower, Rowan laid out her wardrobe choices, debating the merits of each option. She wanted to look sexy, but not slutty. At size eighteen though, finding the right look could be tricky. She held up the tight red sheath dress. Too clingy. Next came the soft floral halter dress, a gorgeous silk number, but she wouldn’t be able to wear a bra with it, and figured her nipples would poke out too much. She finally settled on the black A-line dress with a swirly skirt that hung just above her knees. The low-cut sweetheart neckline ensured she’d be able to showcase her best assets, her boobs.
Using the techniques Carly had taught her, Rowan carefully applied make-up, giving her eyes a smoky and, she hoped, sultry effect. A hint of blush, and a deep plum lipstick completed the look. She used a round brush with the blow dryer to loosen and smooth her curls so that her hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders. Satisfied at last, she took a deep breath, and then headed down to the restaurant. A Maître D’ met her at the entrance.
“Good evening, Miss. Do you have a reservation?”
“One was supposed to have been made for me. My name is Rowan Cassidy.”
He checked the book and smiled. “Yes, your companion is here already. Please, follow me.”
As they made their way toward the back of the restaurant, Rowan’s heart sped up and the butterflies flapped at a frenzied pace. The candles on the tables provided most of the light, making it dim, and though Rowan scanned the tables for a single man, she didn’t see one until they reached a secluded corner. When she spotted him, her breath caught. Though seated, Rowan could tell he was tall. He had broad shoulders, and when he reached up to run his fingers through his short hair, the muscles in his thick upper arms strained against his sport coat. Rowan liked big guys. They made her feel more feminine and petite. He turned his head, saw the Maître D’, and stood with a smile. Rowan watched his eyes travel over her, lingering at her bust for a moment. When she saw his smile falter, she cursed inside. He’s not expecting a fat girl.
Anger flared. She had specifically said in her application that she wanted a man who was comfortable with a larger woman, but not one of the creepy, skinny guys who seemed to have a fetish for big girls. She could see that this date would be exactly like the other blind dates she’d been on. Those had featured awkward dinners with crappy conversations, and always ended with him saying, “You’re a really nice girl, but just not my type.”
As much as she wanted to turn around and run back to Connecticut, Rowan had better manners than that. And she couldn’t bear to hear Carly say, “I told you so.” She’d already shelled out a lot of money to be here, so she’d have dinner, say good-night, and enjoy the rest of her time in Vegas. Maybe at the casino, she could pick someone up who would be willing to help her with the whole virginity thing. The Maître D’ faded into the background as they reached the table.
“Bruce?” she asked, hoping maybe this wasn’t her date after all and she could make a graceful exit.
“Rowan,” he replied. His deep, sexy voice gave her an unexpected jolt in the pelvic region, and then turned to a full throb when he placed his hands on her shoulders and kissed her cheek.
Chapter Two
Bruce let his lips linger on her cheek a little longer than he’d intended to. Up close, the soft, subtle fragrance of her perfume drew him in and had his cock stirring in his pants. That’s unexpected.
When he’d first seen Rowan behind the Maître D’, he’d been surprised. On the questionnaire that he’d filled out when he signed up with Losing It, he’d said he wanted a tall, thin, blond. His usual type. Rowan definitely did not fit that description.
As they moved to sit down, she said, “I can tell that I’m not what you expected. If you want to call it off now, I’ll understand.”
Her voice held notes of bitterness and pain, and he guessed she must have been hurt in the past. He prided himself on not being one of those shallow guys who never looked beneath the surface. But maybe he was. After all, how did he usually find his dates? By looking at them. And if he’d run into Rowan in a club, he would have passed her over. The more he looked at her though, the more he realized how attractive she was. She had a great rack, and that probably got her lots of attention, but she had eyes like inky black pools, and gorgeous thick curls. He itched to reach out and touch them to see if they felt as silky as they looked.
“Let’s just see where the night takes us before we give up on it.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Okay.” As he looked into her eyes, his face warmed, the heat spreading down his neck, through his chest, and settling into his crotch. She broke the eye contact first, her cheeks flushing as she glanced down at the table.
“I brought you a birthday present,” he said, setting a small black gift bag in front of her.
“How did you know it was my birthday?” she asked.
“When I got the details about our date they mentioned it.”
“You didn’t have to get me—”
“You’ll only turn twenty-one once,” he interrupted. “Please. I’d like you to have it.”
She dropped her eyes again and withdrew the box from the bag. After reading the name on the box, she gasped and looked up. “Bruce, this is too—”
Leaning forward, he pressed a finger to her lips, which quivered slightly under his touch. “It’s yours. I won’t take no for an answer.”
She gave a nod and he took his finger away, watching as she opened the box and took out the velvet case within. He held his breath for a moment while she looked inside. He had spent a long time in the jewellery store searching for the perfect gift, and he hoped she liked it.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered. Even in the low light, the silver bracelet she lifted up sparkled. Three charms hung from it: a paintbrush and palette represented Rowan, a fireman’s helmet for him, and a plain silver charm which he’d had engraved to say, “What happened in Vegas.”
She leaned down to examine the charms, laughing at the one with the message etched into it. “That’s perfect. Can you put it on for me?”
Bruce smiled as his breathing returned to normal. Why it was so important that she liked it, he wasn’t sure, but she seemed sincere. He took the bracelet and fastened it around her wrist. On impulse, he took her hand, brushing his thumb over the back of it as he looked into those deep brown eyes. Warmth spread through him from that point of contact and he saw her eyes widen before she pulled her hand away to admire the bracelet.
“How did you know I liked art?” she asked.
He cleared his throat before answering. “Your profile said you just graduated from college after studying art history.”
“That’s right,” she said with a nod. “But I have no job prospects at the moment. I’ve been working at a local artists’ supply store, but it’s not where I’d like to stay permanently.”
“And where’s home for you?”
She gave him a saucy smile. “You mean you don’t know that, too?”
“I wanted to save some things for conversation on our date.”
Her laugh was rich and throaty, and he liked hearing it. He wondered what she would sound like screaming his name in bed, and his cock surged to life at the thought. He’d signed up for this hoping for some hot sex to break the long dry spell he’d been having. And the idea of a virgin, someone he could te
ach, got his motor going. That, and the thought of how tight her pussy would be.
“I live in New Haven,” Rowan said. “How about you?”
“New York City,” he replied. “I’m a firefighter.”
She looked down at the charm bracelet. “Ah. That explains the other charm.”
A waiter appeared then, which irritated Bruce. He found himself wanting to just spend time with Rowan, without interruptions. He gave the menu a fleeting glance, and then ordered a bottle of wine, and the steak dinner.
“I’ll have the same,” Rowan replied, handing the waiter her menu. When they were alone again, she turned back to him. “So, you seem to know how old I am, but I don’t know about you.”
“I’m thirty-five,” he replied. “Or I will be in August.”
“Umm, wow.”
“Not expecting an old guy, were you?” He winked, pleased with the blush that spread across her face.
“I hadn’t actually given an age, just looking for someone with experience,” she replied.
“Experience?”
She bit her lip and looked away, the blush deepening. “I just wanted someone who knows what he’s doing and that probably eliminates guys even remotely close to my own age.”
His grin broadened. He didn’t like to get conceited, but he knew he had good skills in bed. At least, there hadn’t been any complaints from previous lovers, but his grin faded a bit as he remembered that ultimately, none of those relationships had resulted in a more permanent commitment. As he grew older, he found himself wanting to settle down. So why did you sign up for a one night stand, exactly? He gave his head a shake.
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