by Magan Vernon
One Wild Night
A Forever Wild Novella
Magan Vernon
Text copyright © 2013 by Magan Vernon
All rights reserved
www.maganvernon.com
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form by or any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the author.
For information visit www.maganvernon.com
Summary: One Wild Night can change everything. Valerie Wilder doesn't do serious relationships. She also doesn't usually wake up in Vegas next to a male stripper....A male stripper who happens to be her new husband. A quickie divorce seems like the answer, but the Nevada legal system doesn't think so. When her new husband suggests flying back to Chicago with Valerie she accepts, wondering if one night in Vegas could turn into something much more.
First Edition, December 2013
Cover Design by Ashley Poston
Cover photo by K Keeton Designs https://www.kkeetondesigns.com/
Cover models: Walter Veale and Suzanne Patterson-Smith
Edited by Red Road Editing
Other Books by Magan Vernon
How to Date an Alien (My Alien Romance Series #1)
How to Break up with an Alien (My Alien Romance Series #2)
How to Marry an Alien (My Alien Romance #3)
My Paper Heart
Life, Love, & Lemons
The Only Exception
The Only One
The First Night
A Few Hours Earlier
Another Hour Later
Back To The Present
An Hour Later
Thirty Minutes Later
A Few Hours Later
Half An Hour Later
The Next Day
The Next Morning
A Few Hours Later
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The First Night
If my pounding headache wasn’t enough to wake me, then the shifting on the other side of my bed was.
Shit.
How much did I have to drink?
I hadn’t hooked up with a random since college and now I could feel whoever it was moving. I guess that’s what happens when your work sends you to a conference in Vegas and your co-workers convince you to go to a strip club.
I wondered if that’s where I picked him up. If it was, I hoped he was at least hot because I didn’t remember a damn thing from the night before.
Slowly, I opened my eyes and turned toward the other side of my bed.
Damn. For being a Vegas hook-up he was about a hundred shades of sexy.
The random was on his back with his arms propped up behind his head. They weren’t veined and overly muscular like the guys in magazines, but lean and cut like a guy who knew his way around a gym and probably a woman’s body. God I hoped those arms were all over me.
My eyes trailed down from his arms to the hoops in his nipples. I always thought pierced nipples were meant for drunk college girls, but this guy with his toned pecs had me rethinking it.
He moaned, turning to his side before he opened his eyes—a gorgeous set of green ones that could have lit up the whole freaking Vegas strip. Blond spiky hair and green eyes, it was a freaking wet dream.
“Mornin’, Valerie,” he said, taking in a deep breath and stretching out his arms. An accent. The guy had a southern accent. I was about to turn into a panting teenage girl right there.
“Uh, morning.” I blinked. Shit. I had a tanned God of a man lying next to me and I had to be a hot mess with my makeup on from the night before and my breath, which had to reek like ass, since it sure tasted like it did. And I also had absolutely no idea what his name was.
“Last night was something else,” he said, sitting up and dropping the blanket. It stopped where his amazing abs ended and there was definitely not any sort of underwear line. He was naked. In my bed.
“Definitely.” I sat up, trying to appear confident, but there was no way my body looked half as good as his, so I kept the blanket over my giant boobs.
“Want to get breakfast?” He was grinning from ear to ear with his green eyes locked on me. Wasn’t this the moment in which he tried to get out of my bed as quickly as possible? That’s what most random hook ups did. At least, that’s what mine did. Guys didn’t mind screwing me, but to be seen with the curvy chick? Nuh-uh.
“No, that’s cool. You can go ...um ... home?” I arched an eyebrow. I wasn’t sure if he was another person there on business or something. He could have worked at the casino for all I knew.
He crept over to my side of the bed and I gasped as he lifted the blanket up before he slowly straddled my hips with his toned thighs. I was surprised at how hard his body was yet smooth at the same time.
His cock was pressed practically against my belly button and ready to go. “Now, darlin’, why would I leave when I have my beautiful bride in bed with me?”
A Few Hours Earlier...
Vegas. Whose idea was it to get a bunch of PR people together in Sin City?
“SHOTS!” Abigail Lewis, my supposed mentor, came to the table with another round of Kamikaze shots. She said we deserved it after being cooped up in a conference room all day, strategizing with a bunch of suits. I think she just wanted to spend all our daily meal allowance money on alcohol.
“Abbi, you’re going to give us all a wicked-ass hangover for tomorrow’s meetings.” Pam Rodgers grabbed a shot off the tray as Abbi took the seat next to me at the tiny table.
“Whatever, you’re only four years out of college. You should still be able to hold your own.” Abbi handed me the other shot glass on the tray. “And you’re not even a year out, Wilder, so drink, bitch and stop acting like a twenty-two year old pussy.”
“You know it’s serious when you start calling me by my last name like this is some sort of sporting event.” I laughed and stared down at the swirling liquid in the glass.
Abbi put her glass up for a toast. “This is some serious shit, ladies. I got us tickets to the Rock Hard Abs of Vegas contest and we need to down these and get our asses to the strip club.”
“Seriously?” I asked.
“Serious as hell, lady. Now drink!”
We all clinked our glasses together and then drank. It burned all the way down, and Abbi’s words gave me another surge of adrenaline. Rock Hard Abs of Vegas? How could I say no to that?