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

by Ann Denton

  My hands fly to my mouth as Alec soars twenty feet through the air.

  Next to me Danny pumps a fist in the air like this is a goddamned sporting event. “Yeah!”

  Alec lands three quarters of the way up the cargo net and scrambles over the top. He doesn’t even attempt to climb down. He jumps sideways and lets himself freefall a bit, before latching back onto the cargo net. He gets about halfway down before he launches himself at Peter, who’s ten feet from the ground. Alec grabs onto the other man’s torso and wraps him up. He reaches for the metal object in Peter’s hand.

  They grapple. It looks like Alec might get the gun away.

  I let out a breath of relief, until I see him twist the two of them in midair, so that as they fall, Peter’s on top and Alec hits the ground first.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  I feel like someone smashed a brick into my chest. I can’t breathe. Fuck! Is he dead?

  Peter scrambles off Alec and scampers away into the trees. But I don’t see Alec move. Shit. Shit. Oh fucking shit.

  I run forward but am yanked back. Danny’s arms circle my middle. He puts a hand on either of my cheeks. His face is pale, but his tone is steady. “Stay with Kenneth. I’ll go get him.”

  He hands me off to Kenneth, and then takes a running leap over the mud pit. He starts circling around all the obstacles, staying on the ground, unlike Heather’s idiots. I try to wrangle out of Kenneth’s grip, but he holds firm. That might be a good thing because adrenaline has me shaking like like a Mexican maraca. My insides are all a jumble. And my brain’s straight up short circuiting.

  Kenneth has to pull my arm a few times before I realize he wants me to move. He pushes his way into the trees, roughly batting away the thick foliage. It’s a fight. We have to stomp and shove, and those branches hit back. But Kenneth doesn’t stop. He pushes through, and so do I. He leads us in a wide circle around the course.

  It feels like it takes forever to get to Alec. By the time we do, Danny has Alec propped up against the cargo net. Alec’s blinking and batting away Danny’s hand as Danny asks the ‘how many fingers’ question. Alec looks pale but otherwise alright.

  And suddenly I’m pissed. I almost had a goddamned heart attack watching him fall. I pull away from Kenneth and stop a few feet in front of Alec. “What the hell?” I screech at him. “Why the fuck would you run at a guy with a gun?”

  Alec lifts his head and his brooding eyes hit me like a bolt to the chest. And I realized I just screamed at him. In public. I just started a fight. I never start fights. His eyes watch me steadily while I process what I’ve done. The urge to apologize and pacify him nags me like a little girl tugging on her momma’s dress. I swat that urge away.

  When Alec sees me clench my fists and stand firm, his lip quirks up. It almost looks like he knows what’s going on inside my head. But he can’t. That’s not possible.

  Alec answers my question with a casual, “I ran at the guy with the gun so he’d have a target to aim at.”

  I couldn’t be more shocked if some asshole snuck up behind me with an ice bucket challenge right now, dumping that shit all over my damned head. “That is the worst, most idiotic, most awful thing I’ve ever heard.”

  Alec shakes his head, then grimaces as if shaking his head hurts. “I scanned all the luggage before I flew anyone out here. If a weapon made it onto the island, then it was my fault.”

  “Doesn’t mean you need to die for it.”

  He shrugs. “No one else should, though. Besides, it’s a non-issue.”

  “How’s it a fucking non-issue! You—”

  Danny interrupts, holding something up in the air. “It’s a non-issue because Peter didn’t have a gun. He had a damn flashlight.”

  I stare at the long, black metal flashlight in Danny’s hand.

  My throat gets tight. And for some reason, tears decide to pop up at that moment. I sniff. “A flashlight?” The asshole tears flood my eyes and I look up at the sky to hide them, wiping my eyes like I’m scrubbing at my face in frustration. None of the men say anything. They wait, just watching me. “What the hell was Peter doing, then?”

  Alec shrugs. “He just said he can’t go back. They’ll kill him. Unsure if that was literal or metaphorical.”

  I bite my lip and shake my head. Then I run a frustrated hand through my hair. “Alright. Alright. I can figure this out. Can you walk?” I ask Alec.

  “Just a concussion, I think,” he responds, letting Danny help him to his feet.

  “Good. We’ll have Andrew check you out and then I’ll find a fucker to hack Peter’s accounts and shit and figure out what the hell is going on.”

  One of the twins appears on the other side of the cargo net with a machete. “Stand back,” he says. And then he starts hacking away at the net.

  Alec clears his throat. “Um … instead, do you think you can just lift the bottom edge?”

  We all turn to stare at him.

  Kenneth breaks the silence first. Thank God, because I’m about to jump on Alec and pound him until I give him another concussion. “You can just lift the net?”

  “Well, it’ll probably take a couple guys but—”

  Twin One tosses the machete aside and drops into a squat. He puts his hands on the cargo net and lifts. It comes easily off the ground and he flips his hands so he can power lift it over his head for us.

  Alec could have fucking lifted the net. Instead of flying through the air. Instead of doing crazy jumps down the side of the cargo net that made my heart fucking fly into my throat. Instead of falling to what I thought was his fucking death. But what did he do? The idiotic thing. The male thing. The adrenaline-junkie, have-to-prove-my-dick-is-bigger-than-yours thing.

  “You’re an asshole!” I tell Alec, as I stomp off, weaving my way through the obstacles, guided by Twin Two.

  “Don’t worry, when she says that, it just means she likes you,” Danny tells him.

  All the male idiots behind me laugh.

  I flip them the bird.

  Men. Are. The. Fucking. Worst.

  The hacker I hire tells me that Peter’s racked up nearly thirty thousand in debt while he’s been on the island. Seems like he’s not only been playing online poker with maxed out credit cards, he called in a loan to a loan shark to put a bet on a horse or something. Something that lost. Guess Peter bet a little too hard on ending up in the harem and Heather bankrolling him.

  I roll my eyes and shake my head. No wonder Peter would rather go play George of the Jungle than go home. I scrub a hand over my face and debate whether hiring some cops or private security to boot him off the island is worth it. I mean, he only had a flashlight. Now, he doesn’t even have that.

  Kenneth and the staff swear he’ll come back.

  Kenneth’s dismissive, “By morning, that idiot will be so full of mosquito bites that he’ll be begging us to send him away.”

  I’m adding to my pro/con list about retrieving Peter when I hear a knock at my door. I set down my notepad, stretch, and pad over to open the door only to find Alec, backlit by the afternoon sun. He’s shirtless, but he smells like he’s showered, and fuck if the crisp minty scent of his shampoo doesn’t make me want to drag my nose down the valley between his abs.

  But I remind myself he’s an asshole. A show-offy, death-wishy, rejecty asshole.

  I glare up at him and cross my arms. “Yes?”

  Alec stares at me, reading my mood. When he sees how stiff-backed I am, he leans against the doorframe and sighs. “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry for what?” I cock my hip and channel my mother for a quick second before I realize it. Then I exorcise that demon. I do not want to resemble that woman in any way, shape, or form. So, I drop the anger and open the door wider with my patented fake smile. “I mean, come in.”

  “Don’t do that,” Alec says, refusing to budge. “You’re right to be pissed at me. Okay?”

  I cock my eyebrow. “Really?”

  He bites his lip as he searches for words. I can
tell this isn’t easy for him. He doesn’t seem like a guy who normally goes around doling out apologies. He’s the silent, brooding type. I watch those deep brown eyes of his as he tries to find a way to explain things. The silence draws on. And on.

  And it’s so uncomfortable. It’s like that moment in a conversation right before the other person breaks up with you, that pause in the breeze right before a storm front blows in. I can’t stand those moments.

  “Just say it,” I beg him. Whatever he has to say can’t be worse than the million options running through my head right now.

  Alec swallows hard. “You know how I said that I’ve always been an adrenaline junkie?”

  I nod. “Today certainly proved your point.”

  He gives me a grim smile. “Yeah. But, you know what else I said?”

  “About wanting more?”

  He nods. “I want more, but I need that rush.”

  “I’m confused about how this relates to me.”

  Alec straightens and the look he gives me burrows straight under my skin. “You’re the more.”

  My very soul faints. That is the last thing I ever expected to hear. It’s the absolute strangest, most roundabout compliment I ever received. “I’m the more … but I’m not what you need?” I’m searching here, trying to understand what the hell he’s saying. Because none of this makes sense.

  “At first, I didn’t think you could be. I mean … your flight here was your first flight. Ever. I thought you were—”

  “Naive?”

  “Innocent.” He swallows hard. “I didn’t know how to handle that.”

  I narrow my eyes. “Oh, but now that you know I’m up for fucking multiple guys, it’s a green light? What the fuck is that?”

  He gives a half-shrug. “Kinda. Now I know you can probably give me what I need.”

  What a self-centered ass. But I’m still dying of curiosity. “What do you mean?”

  Alec takes a step closer. His hand reaches out and his fingertips brush my hip. Immediately, my body responds, whether or not my mind wants it to. My libido is one hundred percent on board with whatever Alec needs. My mind is screaming that she’s not satisfied, that his apology sucked and we deserve more—my libido clocks my mind in the face and the mouthy, brainy bitch falls to the ground.

  I step closer to Alec and his hands dig into my hips. He presses into them, his fingertips curling almost painfully into me. But I don’t care about pain. I care about the sense of possession he’s radiating. His eyes and hands are raking over me like a fire, branding me as his.

  Alec takes a deep breath. “We’ll find out if you can give me what I need … and if we can come to some sort of arrangement, tonight.”

  Then he steps away. He turns and walks out my door.

  “Tonight?” I call out after him.

  He doesn’t respond. Alpha asshole.

  Holy fucking shit, I wonder. What the hell does Alec need? And how the hell can I give it to him?

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Instead of sitting and wondering what the hell is going on with Alec—because, honestly, men’s brains are more tangled than a first grader’s shoelaces—I check in with Heather and give her my pro/con list.

  She throws it on the ground. “Like hell if I’m gonna pay for some search team to go find his ass out there when he did it to himself!”

  Andrew is sitting on the couch, magazine in hand. Heather stomps over to sit next to him and he puts an arm around her. He rubs his thumb along her shoulder, and she leans into him. They look homey.

  “Don’t we have an obligation to help ensure his safety?” Andrew asks softly.

  “Not in this situation. He’s done fucked himself,” Heather crosses her arms. “I can’t believe that ass thought I’d just pay all his bills—”

  I rub my lips together and brace my arms on the back of the couch. Hurricane Heather’s about to unleash.

  Once I’ve weathered the storm and we’ve all settled on waiting for morning to do anything, I head back to my villa.

  Alec’s there. He’s leaning against the doorway, dressed in black swim trunks with pockets and a white t-shirt. His hands slide out of the pockets and he says, “Where the hell have you been? You have to hurry or we’re gonna be late.”

  “Late?”

  “We have to be on that boat for the ostracods in half an hour.”

  “I thought it was at night.”

  “We have to take a boat to get there.” His look says ‘obviously.’

  Part of me wants to strangle him. This is very poor planning. People need an itinerary ahead of time!

  But the other part of me is so fucking curious about what he needs. It’s gotta be something he doesn’t think normal sex will provide. We were clearly headed for some sweet vanilla sex on that plane. So, what the hell made him turn tail? My theories are currently wavering between erectile dysfunction and some sort of godawful kink like peeing on people. I googled that on my phone this afternoon. Golden showers. He’d better not ‘need’ golden showers. Cause hell-to-the-no. It won’t matter that he can get me wetter than the Atlantic. That is plain nasty.

  Alec gestures to my door and I realize I’ve been staring at him. But I do that a lot, so I hope he’s used to it at this point. I use my universal keycard and let us both in as I dial Heather’s villa and then Anthony’s. I let them know the updated timeline.

  “You need a bikini and then a longer dress, something that will block the wind, but preferably with a slit,” Alec says.

  “Okay, that’s oddly specific,” I toss my notepad and keycard on the table and start to go to my bedroom.

  Alec starts to follow me.

  I stop. “Um, what are you doing?”

  He grins. “What’s it look like?”

  “It looks like you’re trying to sneak a peek at me getting dressed.”

  Alec just smiles at me and strides ahead. “Oh, I’m not sneaking. I plan to sit on your bed and watch.” He holds open the door to my bedroom and gestures for me to enter.

  He did not just say that! I cross my arms and stop walking. “Are you crazy?”

  “Nope. Come on.” He heads into my room and plops down on the lavender comforter, making himself cozy.

  I shake my head and walk into the room. “What makes you think I’m gonna agree to get dressed in front of you?”

  Alec grins. “Because I’m gonna dare you to do it.”

  I scoff. “Are we twelve? I’m not intimidated by a dare.”

  “Ah, but if you do it, I’ll tell you the truth about me.”

  My stomach gives a little ping. My intuition sounds off. My curiosity, which has been prancing all afternoon, turns into a damned bucking stallion. What the fuck does he mean? The truth about him? What’s the truth? His tone implies something big. Is he a spy? Some kind of secret agent? Is he in a gang? Is he a contract killer? Or, is it worse than golden showers? Does he have a poop fetish? My hands fly to my mouth when I think of that one.

  Holy shit, my mind is getting out of control. And this absolute need to know grows inside me, just sprouts like a weed and takes over, smothering everything else. I have to know. But I need to understand just what I’m getting in return for this little striptease show. I lick my lips and ask, “What do you mean the truth?”

  “You do one dare and I’ll answer one question. Any question.” He reclines against the bed. The position makes me start to think naughty things.

  “In full, to my satisfaction?” I ask.

  He grins. “If you want to negotiate terms like that, then the dare has to be completed in full to my satisfaction, which will include music and photos and maybe even some very lewd poses.”

  My entire body turns scarlet. I’m pretty certain even the undersides of my toes are blushing right now. “Never mind,” I squeak.

  Alec laughs. “Do we have a deal?”

  I swallow hard. If he’s a contract killer, then I need to know, right? So I can warn Danny and Kenneth and Heather and her guys. Slowly, I nod.<
br />
  Alec’s eyes heat. “Shut the door,” he tells me.

  Nerves start to rattle my stomach as I shut the door. I have to give myself a pep talk. He’s just watching, this isn’t actually a strip tease, I tell myself. But, it sure as hell doesn’t feel that way. My heart thinks I’ve been shot out of a cannon over twenty flaming cars. It thinks I’m flying through the air

  I take off my short tan jacket and go lay it on the bed, just as I normally would. Alec doesn’t move, but I can feel his eyes burning into me and my hands start to tremble as I move them to the hem of my shirt. I pull it off and set it next to the jacket, just like I normally would. I smooth out the wrinkles, because that’s what I do, despite the fact that this outfit is going straight to the dirty clothes.

  Alec grins when he sees that, but he doesn’t say a word.

  Next, I pull out my hair and go place the hair tie on my dresser.

  On top of my dresser sits a mirror. In the reflection, I can see Alec rubbing himself over his pants as he watches me.

  My body clenches just at the sight. Fuck, this attraction between us is strong. The energy in the room crackles like a live wire.

  I stay facing the mirror as I unbutton my shorts. I pull them down and bend to pull them off over my heels, so I give him a bit of a show. And then I’m in my underwear. My breasts heave. I’m flushed from the neck up. I slide out of my shoes and then my bra.

  Behind me Alec groans. He’s watching me in the mirror.

  I grow giddy hearing that sound. I get reckless enough to turn around and face him as I lower my white lace panties. I watch him, breathing hard, staring right at the junction of my thighs. I get the panties down and try to kick them at him. They fly up in the air and then down, two feet in front of me. It’s an epic fail.

  I shrug and start to laugh it off, rolling my eyes for thinking I could be sexy, until I realize he’s moved down the bed and clenching and unclenching his hands.

  “You’d better put that swimsuit on, or we’ll be late.” He’s gruff.

  “I can’t rinse off real quick?”