A Match Made in Vegas Read Online Crystal Kaswell

Categories Genre: Alpha Male Tags Authors: Crystal Kaswell Advertisement1

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The expert witness and the lawyer. Two career-minded people looking to marry and have kids. Perfect on paper.

In reality?

We just weren't there.

But this isn't time for nostalgia. This is time for dirty thoughts.

If I can't get my head in place, fine, but I made her a promise. I intend to deliver. "Do you remember that night after the trial?" I ask.

"Yes." She doesn't need clarification. She knows the night I mean. The one where I took her out for drinks, ordered her out of her underwear, teased her all fucking night, until she was so wound up, she came the second I touched her.

"Imagine we're on the balcony." I lower my voice to a seductive tone. It's a put-on, yes, but I don't care. I don't owe her my authentic self. Not anymore.

She doesn't care either. She responds with a low groan.

I fall into the familiar role. That night, with a twist.

An old scenario. Strangers at a hotel bar. We meet. We flirt. I take her to her room, order her out of her clothes, tie her wrists together with my belt, fuck her until she's screaming my name.

She comes fast.

That's what really puts me there. The authentic sound of her pleasure. Is there anything hotter than a woman who's really there?

It erases the hesitation in my mind. The pain too. I forget the voice in my head asking why is it I'm not worthy of love, and I surrender to desire. My senses fire with memories. The feeling of her bare skin against mine, the taste of her thighs, the sound of her groan.

I come fast too.

She waits for me to catch my breath, and she says, "Thanks."

This is where I say right back at you, or you're welcome, or same time next week. If I'm in a particularly demanding mood, I tell her to think of me next time or walk around without panties.

All things I shouldn't tell her. Games I shouldn't play with my ex-girlfriend.

But I say something far worse: "Do you want to grab a drink next week?"

"At a hotel bar?" Her voice perks. She likes the idea of doing this in person. Doing me in person.

"To catch up."

"Oh." In one moment, her interest wanes. "Jackson." She packs everything into that single word. Jackson, let's not pretend this has a chance. Jackson, I loved you, and a part of me always will, but let's face it: you never loved me. "I don't think so."

Fuck. I take a deep breath and push an exhale through my nose.

"Maybe we should put this on pause." Her voice softens. "If that's what you need to move on."

Maybe, but this isn't why I haven't moved on. It's some broken thing inside me. An inability to feel the things I'm supposed to feel. "If that's what you want."

"I want to meet at a hotel bar. But I know… I know you have to go. Have fun in Las Vegas, okay." Her laugh is soft. It says we both know this is the only kind of fun you know how to have. "Find a stranger at a hotel bar. Do this for real."

Right. That's what people do in Las Vegas. They fuck with abandon.

And that's something I know how to do. That's the only thing I know how to do, really. The only way I know how to satisfy a woman.

But I'm fucking good at it.

Really fucking good at it.

"Are you okay?" she asks. "I know you only have a minute, but I… I do hope we'll always be friends."

"Of course." I take a deep breath and push my other thoughts aside. It's not her fault I don't feel the right things. It's not her fault this plan I'm following doesn't work. I'm supposed to be at a different phase of my life. Married. Stable. Safe.

I'm just not.

It's me.

I just don't know how to change it. "Take care, Maddie."

"You too." She ends the call.

The silence echoes through the room. It underlines the size and emptiness of my house.

Why is it so empty? I followed the plan. I walked the steps. I just don't get it.

I clean up, I dress, I take calm breaths. To center myself.

There's one thing I can't handle: Chaos.

And this trip to Las Vegas is sure to bring a lot. I need to keep my head on straight. Especially because—

Right on cue, the doorbell rings. I peek out the front door, and I see her.

Daphne, on the front steps, all tall and long and tempting.

Four days in Las Vegas. All that chaos and the only way I know how to center myself is sex—

And the woman I want more than any other is right there.

And I can't touch her.

This isn't smart. I should get out of it.

But I can't. I have to white-knuckle it.

I'm a grown-up. I can do that. In theory.


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