Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 128260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Carson Stinger doesn't play by any rules except his own. Working in the adult entertainment industry, he doesn't care what others think of his choices, and takes each day as it comes. No direction, no plan. He knows what women want from him, and in his eyes, it's all he has to offer… until her.
When unexpected circumstances force them together, Grace and Carson are swept up into the electric chemistry between them, surrendering to a steamy weekend in each other's arms. But for two people whose worlds could never coexist, they know their time is short.
That is, until their hearts get involved without their permission…
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
PART 1
CHAPTER 1
Grace
Las Vegas, Nevada
As I walked into the luxurious Bellagio Resort and Casino, tired and rumpled from my flight, I saw two signs directing guests to the conferences being held that weekend. There was the one I was in town to attend, the International Law Students Association Conference, and then there was another one, the Adult Entertainment Expo. Well. I guess that’s Vegas for you, I thought. Where you can see everything from law students and tourists, to porn stars, and perhaps even aliens from distant planets. It hadn’t taken me long to realize—just walking through the airport actually—that when it came to the City of Sin, shock value was practically nonexistent.
If I didn’t figure that out from the pantless man the cops were chasing through the airport upon my arrival, then I definitely got it from the G-stringed Elvis impersonator who flew by me on roller skates as I stepped from my shuttle in front of the hotel. “You’re not in Kansas anymore, honey,” the driver had said, laughing as my head swiveled to watch the rolling, half-dressed Elvis glide away.
Apparently not.
As I walked farther into the lobby, my mouth dropped open and I halted as my head fell back. The ceiling was filled with the most stunning glass blossoms—hundreds of them in every color imaginable. I moved in a circle, my breath halted, unable to look away from the gorgeous, overhead art. Wow.
When I finally tore my eyes away from the ceiling, I realized there was beauty everywhere. I was so completely awestruck by the stone pillars and gallery of fresh flowers and floating hot-air balloons behind the check-in that I almost didn’t hear the woman desk clerk call out to me. I wheeled my small suitcase up to the counter and smiled brightly at her. “Grace Hamilton. I have a reservation.”
The desk clerk smiled back. “Okay, let me just look you up… Okay, here we go. You’re here for the law student conference starting tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“What school do you go to?” she asked as she took my credit card and swiped it quickly.
“Georgetown,” I said, returning the card to my wallet.
“Great school! Well, have a good time. You’re on the twenty-sixth floor, checked in until Monday. Checkout time is noon. Here’s a folder for those attending the law student conference. You’ll find a schedule, a name tag, and some other information you might find handy for this weekend.”
“Thanks,” I said, taking the folder and then grabbing my suitcase handle before turning to walk toward the elevators. As I rounded the corner, I ran smack-dab into a hard, male chest. “Oh, gosh! I’m so sorry!” I exclaimed.
“No, I’m sorry—” he started to say at the same time. Our eyes met and we both fell silent, me blinking as he steadied me with both hands on my upper arms.
He was about my age, twenty-three or so, with sandy-colored hair that was just a little too long and curling up at the ends, and one of those handsome faces that manages to be both manly and boyish at the same time. Simultaneously rugged and pretty. Double wow. His hazel eyes were fringed with thick, dark lashes, and his full lips were curved into a half-smile.
I cleared my throat, pulling myself together as I managed to quickly take in his frame. He was lean but muscled, clad in dark jeans and a conservative, button-down, white shirt, sleeves rolled up.
He stared at me for a couple beats and something in his expression seemed to soften as my eyes moved back to his and his smile grew bigger, revealing a small dimple to the left of his bottom lip. He bent to pick up the key card I had dropped when we collided.
As I watched him scoop up my card, the strangest feeling washed over me, almost like déjà vu, like we had met before. I frowned, confused by the odd sensation, wondering if he was a law student that I had seen in passing at school, here for the same conference. Yes, that had to be it.
He straightened, holding the key card out to me, and I caught sight of the name tag clipped to his shirt. “Oh, you are here for the conference,” I exclaimed. “I thought I might—” And that’s when I read it: Carson Stinger, Straight Male Performer, Adult Entertainment Expo.
I stared at the words for a couple beats, re-arranging them, digesting them, and then meeting his eyes once more. He was smirking now and his eyes no longer held that softness I had seen just a minute before.
I pulled my shoulders back. “Well, then, I’m sorry again for the…uh, not watching where I was…” I let out a small, uncomfortable laugh, beginning again. “Well, have a good time…er, a nice time, um, enjoy”—I gestured toward his name tag—“the show. Or rather, not the show, but the…well, enjoy the weekend.”