Hot Vegas Nights (The Trifecta Book 1) Page 2

  “Yep, bachelorette party. Daddy’s rich and wants his princess to have the best night of her life.” I can see the money signs in Willie’s eyes. He’s getting every last drop of this place until he passes over the reigns to us.

  “What a weird thing for a dad to pay for,” Axel says. I can tell he’s trying to hold back his annoyance, but he’s not doing a good job of hiding it. It’s a good thing the bank had good news for us today. Axel’s getting close to the end of his rope.

  He really does hate this life. And for a second, I feel bad for him. But, we’re so close. We’re right there. The loan was approved. Big Willie’s will soon be ours.

  “Who cares what Daddy’s paying for, as long as he’s paying. They asked for the three of you for three hours.” Willie hands us the slip showing how much we’re going to make in the VIP room, without tip.

  I almost choke seeing all those beautiful zeros.

  “Well it looks like we’ll get to celebrate early tonight. With that amount we’re going to skip out early tonight, Willie.” Damien slaps Willie on the back with a smile. Even Axel smiles, realizing he won’t have to stay at the club for very long.

  The DJ introduces us, and the crowd roars to life knowing the infamous Trifecta is about to grace the stage. Our theme music pumps through the sound system and it’s go time.

  “Bad To The Bone” by George Thorogood.

  We hit the stage in the order we entered this earth. I go first, my hips moving as my muscles catch the light reflecting off the baby oil. Women go crazy. Axel enters after me, his body in sync with mine. Damien takes the stage last, his moves matching mine and Axels.

  This is the Trifecta and we’re the sexiest exotic dancers in Vegas. We have the world at our feet, well, if the world is screaming horny women and men willing to pay dearly to catch a glimpse of us. And they’ll throw even more money at us for a tiny bit of attention from the triplets. The men have learned over the years the Trifecta is only about the women, but it doesn’t mean they don’t throw money on the stage with the rest of them.

  We go through our routine. I absorb all the love being tossed at me. Axel’s face is masked with the pretense he’s enjoying being a piece of meat, while Damien marks the women he knows will pay out more.

  The Trifecta is on tonight.

  I scan the room, knowing I need to find my mark fast since my time has been cut short. A large party of women scream at the end of the stage. I move toward them needing a better look. I love women because they go places in groups, it makes it easier to find which one you want when they’re all clumped together.

  It’s convenient.

  I hit the stage, my knees resounding off the floor getting all of their attention. They stretch out their arms wanting to touch me. Throw money at me. I smile and wink at them all the while wondering if I’m going to let one fortunate lady catch me tonight.

  Then, I notice her. She’s part of the group I’m currently making wet. Although, I almost missed her. She isn’t wearing the tight sparkly dresses like the women she’s with. No, this one is in a simple red dress. It’s almost as if she doesn’t want to be noticed. I can’t wait to tell her, out of her whole group, I choose her.

  Lucky girl.

  Damn lucky.

  Remember, it’s not cocky if it’s true.

  Her hourglass figure is pushing against the material of her blood-red dress, and I want nothing more than to help the body underneath escape. Her black hair has a victory curl in the front and a bandana tied around the middle of her head, the back pulled into a high ponytail. Her blue eyes sparkle but they refuse to connect with mine. Her understated makeup is sexier than the caked on stuff the women next to her have on. But it’s her matte red lipstick that catches my dicks attention. My cock wants nothing more than to make her mouth wet and swollen. She’s not writhing on her chair like her friends around her, and I’m intrigued. Playing hard to get I see. Like I said before, I do love a challenge.

  Our set ends, and the ushers come out inconspicuously gathering the wads of money littering the floor. We go backstage to dry off, all of us guzzling down a bottle of water. The lights are hot and the body heat from the lust pouring off the crowd can dehydrate a man.

  Willie comes backstage with a giant grin. “The Trifecta is hot tonight. You boys are my money makers.” He comes over handing us our portion of the stage money.

  Damien turns his back stuffing his money in his locker. None of the other male dancers know we’re planning on taking over Willie’s, and renovating it as our own. We didn’t want to jinx ourselves until we knew we were approved for the loan.

  The loan we just received word on today.

  Now it’s on to the sale of the building and business.

  Good ol’ Willie is going to retire and is more than happy to turn the building over to us. Lawyers still have to hash out some details so we still have about six months to go. I can’t wait to tell the guys we’re their new bosses once everything is finalized.

  “The VIP party will be in room three in thirty minutes. Rest up boys, those women are here to have fun tonight.”

  I toss my bottle in the recycling and walk away. “Where are you going?” Axel asks as I keep moving past the curtains to the main showroom.

  “You heard Willie. We have thirty minutes before we have to be at the VIP room. I’m going to have some fun until then. See you later, boys.” I wave, not bothering to look back.

  “Don’t be late,” Damien says just as I close the door stepping out into the crowd.

  I move with stealth, wanting to catch a glimpse of the woman I picked out earlier while I was onstage. The group of women she’s with are no longer front and center. They couldn’t have gotten far. I’m on the hunt. My time is ticking down so I hurry along. Damien and Axel will kick my ass for different reasons if I’m late. Axel, because he will want to be out as soon as possible and have three of us to distribute the horny women. And Damien, because he doesn't want me losing us money.

  I move toward the bar area thinking I should check there first. If I was a group of rowdy women at a strip club, and I wasn’t lusting over the men onstage, I would either be at the bar or the bathroom. I hope the former is where I can find her.

  Where the fuck did she go? Did she leave? No, the women she’s with are having too much of a good time to have left already. She has to be around here somewhere.

  I look at the clock. Fuck, I only have ten minutes to find her. That’s not going to be enough time to do what I want to do with her. Then out of the corner of my eye I get a glimpse of one of the women in her little group heading toward the VIP area. I make a line toward her with a smile hitting my face when I notice she went into room three. The same room I’ve been requested to perform at for the next three hours.

  Three is my lucky number, and it looks like little Miss. Elusive is going to see just how lucky the number three is for her tonight.

  I enter the room, glancing around for the one I’ve picked for the night. Axel and Damien will love to know how hard it was to find her, but it doesn’t matter now. I know she’s in here somewhere and I’m not going to let her go without getting her off.

  “Oh my god. You’re even more gorgeous up close.” One of the women in the group comes over running her hands over my chest.

  I turn, giving her my very best seductive smile. She whimpers, her drink fumbles a little in her hand. She has a tiara on her head with the words, bride-to-be scrawled along the top, complete with a tiny plastic dick on it.

  “Well, hello,” I say, grasping her wandering hand bringing it to my lips. “What a shame.” Her eyes go wide and her friends giggle around her.

  “A shame?”

  “Yes, I see some fortunate bastard has claimed you as his own.” I tap the tiara on her head.

  “Oh, this isn’t mine. My sister put it on my head. She’s the one getting married.” She takes the tiara off calling out to someone on the couch hidden by some of the other women in the party. “Clara, come get your tiara.
” She laughs. “He thinks I’m the one getting married.”

  The room laughs even harder as they turn to the true bride-to-be. My heart kicks up when I see the woman I just spent the last twenty minutes looking for. Our eyes crash into each other as the tiara is thrust into my hand.

  Fuck, she’s getting married.

  Chapter 3

  Clara

  I glare at my sister, well stepsister, Maureen as she attempts to pawn off her soon-to-be-married status on me. Just so she can screw around with a stripper.

  A god-like stripper. A very gorgeous god-like stripper. When he came over to our group flexing his muscles as his hips moved in a way I didn’t think was physically possible my whole body tingled from his nearness. I gulped down my whole strawberry daiquiri as he danced in front of us. My head still hurts from the enormous brain freeze I gave myself. But as he moved so sensually on the stage I’ll admit my brain was the only thing frozen. Everything else was molten.

  Our eyes meet and I grasp my drink sucking it down. Once again, experiencing a brain freeze. This man is bad for my health, and he’s coming this way.

  The tiara Maureen just pulled off her head is dangling from his finger. He stops in front of me and I suck on my straw just to hear the echoes of an empty glass.

  I stare at him as he takes the glass from my hand putting it on the table next to me.

  He’s so in control as I try to remember to breathe correctly. “Congratulations,” he whispers in my ear as he bends over placing the piece of plastic on my head. “I guess I should make your last official single party a good one,” he says to the room while his attention doesn’t waver.

  I swallow hard as he lowers himself to his knees and rubs his hands up my calves, making me whimper.

  “I’m not getting married,” I stutter out, my voice nearly unrecognizable.

  His face snaps up to mine, his hands still on my legs, burning from just his touch.

  “She’s right. I was just kidding, I'm the real bride-to-be,” Maureen says as she plops down next to me pushing me with her shoulder. “Oops, if I would have known what you had planned I wouldn’t have said she was the bride. You make me forget myself.”

  My stepsister looks at my Trifecta as if she wants to swallow him whole. The two of them stare at each other, yet his hands are still glued to my leg.

  “She’s right. I’m just the sister.”

  “Stepsister,” Maureen says, rolling her eyes.

  “I heard someone ordered the Trifecta.” Two more men walk into the VIP lounge. The three of them are identical in physical form, but instinctively I can tell they have different personalities just from the way they stand and smile.

  Maureen’s friends scream, shutting the door, blocking out the rest of the club. The party has officially started.

  “Yes, I’m the bride-to-be.” Maureen rips the tiara off my head taking some of my hair with it.

  “Ouch,” I say, rubbing my head very aware I have a Trifecta’s hands still plastered to my legs. It’s also hard to ignore the tingles racing up my leg from just having his hands on me.

  “Sorry,” Maureen says to me, climbing up on the couch I’m sitting on. “We should toast.”

  “What a great idea.” My Trifecta takes his hands off my legs, standing in one smooth movement. One sexy fluid movement, making my panties pretty fluid too. My skin breaks out in goosebumps from having the heat removed so quickly.

  My Trifecta moves over to his brother where they grab a bottle of champagne. “We need the bachelorette over here, please,” The second of the triplets says, shooting Maureen a wink.

  My sister saunters over to the triplets, her friends crowding around her. I hear the pop of the cork, but I don’t bother to get up to watch the festivities. I want to go home, get into my comfy jammies, and I know my sister wants me to do the same thing.

  It isn’t a secret that her hatred for me runs deep. Mine may run just as deep for her as well, although I think hate is such a nasty word. So, I really really dislike my stepsister.

  If it wasn’t for my father begging me to go and play nice with Maureen I’d be doing just what my little heart desires. My father married Maureen’s mom, Tracy two years ago. At first I was excited to have my family extended. It has been just my father and I for far too long. When my mom died my father threw himself into his work, and became one the most successful contractors in Vegas. When the money began to roll in so did the gold diggers. I was excited he found one he didn’t feel was after his money.

  He was wrong.

  I didn’t like Tracy the moment I met her. I could tell she was a vapid money-hungry whore just like the rest of the women hanging on my dad. But the harder I pushed him to stay away from her the more I pushed him right into her fake-tanned arms. He worked too hard for too long. It was time for him to play with the money he made, or at least that’s what Tracy had him thinking.

  If I would’ve known Maureen was part of the package I would’ve tried harder to get my dad to stay away from Tracy. Maybe sabotage one of his sites to get him focused on work. Well, that’s probably a lie but a girl can fantasize.

  I’m still confused how someone could have pulled the wool over my father’s eyes so easily. And now I have the spawn of Satan as a stepsister. Maureen’s little entourage of bitchy friends aren’t any better than her, making my night a living hell. They made snide comments the whole limo ride over here. None of them bothering to keep quiet about how they would be having more fun if I wasn’t there. I didn’t bother to tell them I felt the same way. Besides the way Maureen changes her friends so quickly, I have a feeling most of these girls will be replaced before the wedding.

  I slip off one of my shoes, letting it bounce on my toe as the music pounds in the room. The girls cheer, and when I glance up it looks like they are licking alcohol from the Trifecta’s abs.

  I roll my eyes and pretend not to care.

  But, heat flares in my lower abdomen at the thought of licking it off my Trifecta, but I refuse to let my guard down and ask if I can have a taste. Maureen doesn’t want me here, and I plan on blending into the background until it’s time to escape. That way I did my job as a good daughter and won’t give her friends anymore ammunition to talk shit about me.

  “Are you ready for a dance?” one of the Trifectas asks, making my stepsister’s friends crow like idiots.

  “Wait, there’s one more girl who hasn’t been part of the toast yet.” Even without seeing who it is I know it’s my Trifecta. I blush, correcting myself to Trifecta number one refusing to recognize I’d labeled him as mine from the moment I saw him.

  He isn’t mine.

  And he’ll never be mine.

  “She’s fine,” Maureen says. Her friends bobble head up and down in agreement. “Clara, never drinks anyway. She’s boring.” More bobble head action, I resist grabbing my dangling shoe and tossing it at Maureen’s head.

  “Oh, I don’t know, she looks like she needs a drink. Why don’t my brothers start dancing while I catch Clara up on the party?”

  Some sort of triplet communication passes between the three brothers. The other two give an imperceptible nod, grabbing my sister and her friends as they grind on them.

  My Trifecta, I mean, Trifecta number one, I correct myself, takes measured steps across the room until he’s less than a foot from me. He nudges my legs slightly and steps between them.

  “You don’t have to do this,” I say, looking all the way up to stare into his blazing green eyes.

  “I know.”

  “You can go back to my sister and her friends. I don’t mind sitting here. I’m actually quite tired.”

  He smirks, bending slightly so his face is closer to mine. “Why aren’t you with the other girls? Are you trying to get me all to yourself?”

  Yes. “No,” I lie.

  He leans even further down, and I can’t help studying the bright green orbs. They’re outlined by thick black lashes that any woman would die for. His face is all sharp angles and soft
planes making me know without a shadow of a doubt this man knows how to please a woman in the bedroom. With the way he was shaking his hips earlier, I know this man has the rhythm to last all night long.

  Listen to me, this isn’t me. I don’t go to male revues and scope out the dancers. What am I doing here?

  “Are you sure?” His tone pulls me out of the trance his cheekbones put me in. He knows he’s good looking, hell he’s one third of the Trifecta. His nearness is causing me to want things I know I shouldn’t want, and his cocky attitude is just what I need to keep me from making a mistake.

  “Of course, I’m sure.” I push back against the couch, attempting to put more distance between us. It has to be the alcohol making me want to push the other way and plaster myself against him instead of the red leather couch I’m sitting on.

  “I don’t believe you. Now are you ready for your drink?” He stands up straight and moves to pour the champagne over his sculpted abs and right into my waiting mouth.

  “Really, I’m not interested.”

  His arm freezes from pouring the liquid over his body. I sit on my hands to stop myself from rubbing them over him. I can’t help but wonder if he’s as hard as he appears. His body looks as if tanned skin is stretched over forged steel. Men don’t normally have a body like this. It can’t be real.

  He has to be photoshopped.

  “Are you a robot?” I ask and also cut myself off from drinking forever.

  “No, but I’ve been told my stamina isn't human.”

  I blink. “Did you really just say that? How many women does that line work on? Never mind, don’t answer that. I don’t want to lose all my faith in my gender in one night. I want to spread it out over some time.”

  “Clara, what the hell are you doing?” Maureen yells over at us.

  We both jump. I forgot we’re in a room with the evil stepsister and her minions.

  Yeah, no more drinking for this chick.

  “Stop hogging one of the Trifectas. I want all three of them to party with me and you’re taking up too much time being stupid. Just take the drink so he can come back over here and have fun.”