CHAPTER 4
Nick
“Well, fuck.”
Nick leaned against the door after it closed behind him.
Jannie Larssen. Blast from his distant past.
If her perfume hadn’t lingered in his nostrils, along with her distinctive scent, which he detected moments after he’d set incredulous eyes on her again, he would have thought he was hallucinating.
Tossing his key card on the side table, he headed for the floor-to-ceiling windows, pausing to grab a green apple from the fruit bowl he spotted on a nearby table.
He sank his teeth into the fruit, savoring the tartness of the juicy Granny Smith while gazing out at the distant mountain range.
The golden girl from high school, perfect, intelligent …
and, at the time, jailbait. She’d been a fifteen-year-old senior, though her height, speech, and confident demeanor made it impossible to tell.
He stayed the hell away, wishing he weren’t two years older, even as he wanted her with a desperation that bordered on pain—pain he could only ease by fantasizing about her after school, day after day, as he jerked himself to blinding release.
He took another bite, his lips puckering as he chewed.
Jannie. Fresh, beautiful, smart as a whip, and way out of his league. It had taken him years to push her out of his mind, but, occasionally, she still appeared in his dreams, dreams so intensely erotic that he woke up covered in sweat—and other things.
He often wondered what had become of her.
A few times, he even started to look her up online, but something always stopped him from hitting the return key after typing her name into the search bar.
Now, he knew what it was. Finding out that she was living a happy life with some fucking guy would gut him, just as he had felt when he was forced to suddenly leave Fargo.
He had no idea how he’d managed to stay cool when he saw her sitting there.
Or how he hid the disillusionment deep in his soul when he summoned the courage to approach, only to see that some lucky bastard had gotten her pregnant.
Or conceal his elation when he saw no ring, and she confirmed she was divorced.
Divorced for a year, yet very pregnant.
How could that be? Was she already seeing someone else? But … she had asked him to accompany her to tonight’s event. So, maybe she was unattached.
He shook his head. She was so shocked by his physical transformation.
It was surreal and intensely satisfying to see her look at him like that after so many years of working on himself.
The Nick Kent she knew had been scrawny and ugly, and aside from talking about school-related topics, she’d never given him a second look.
Today, she gave him more than a glance, and it was a heated one. Maybe it was a response to the signals he couldn’t help sending. Maybe he was fooling himself. It took every bit of his self-control to act hesitant about going to her event, while inside, he felt like he might explode.
Jannie Larssen. Who would have thought that after all these years, he’d see her again in Vegas, of all places?
He finished his apple, tossing the core into a nearby trash can. If he had any chance at all now, he would take it; whatever she brought with her, even children, he’d accept.
Someone knocked on the door.
He went to open it and saw three very familiar faces.
“Ah. It’s you guys.”
“Sorry,” the one in the middle said, his clipped English accent matching his impeccable Norton he should have known his buddies would want more than just a business meeting. They always did.
Jordan nodded. “They’re twins and come highly recommended.”
“You got us twins?” Colt’s green eyes flashed. “Can’t wait to put them through the paces.” He rubbed his hands together. “Fuck, I’ve been looking forward to this for weeks.”
Jordan laughed. “Only two of them and four of us. We’ll have to toss a coin, man.”
“When was that ever a problem?” Colt smirked.
“I don’t mind observing,” Max said coolly.
Colt snorted. “Of course you don’t.”
Nick opened the door, and there they stood, identical buxom brunettes in black outfits that clung to every curve.
“Welcome, ladies.” He ushered the women inside.
Eyes downcast, they walked to the middle of the suite, stepping elegantly on four-inch black patent heels.
The men took in their hourglass figures, encased in tightly laced black leather corsets.
Nick liked that they were edged in red, matching the color staining their full lips and the bottoms of their shoes.
He turned to find his buddies regarding the women with approving stares full of anticipation. “Which one of you assholes won the coin toss?”