Sin City Secrets (Sin City #2)

CHAPTER 1

Claire

“Good Lord. Look at him. If he weren’t blond, he’d be the hottest man I’ve ever seen.”

“Right.” Claire Burns smiled at her friend, who was known to exaggerate, so she didn’t even bother to spare a glance in the direction Sylvia was gawking. She took another sip of ginger ale and lemon, savoring the tart and spicy flavors rolling across her tongue.

She licked her lips. “You were right. This Fever-Tree is good.”

“I’m right about a lot of things.” Sylvia took a large gulp of her espresso martini. “He doesn’t seem to be with anyone.”

Her eyes were glittering now, with that expression foreshadowing a visit to the bathroom to accompany her and hold up her hair.

Claire sighed. They had been at this elegant Lark Hotel bar for over an hour, and her friend was on her fourth drink, her limit.

Sylvia had invited her to Vegas to celebrate Claire’s breakup from her latest jerk of a boyfriend. How she kept finding men who mistreated her, she would never understand. She’d found the last one doing his ex on the countertop.

Her countertop. It was her apartment, and he didn’t even live there, so at least she hadn’t had to kick him out. But how was that for a special kind of asshole?

No amount of bleach could clean that. Claire was seriously considering moving, and she would also need bleach for her eyes to erase the sordid image that popped up every time she went into her kitchen.

“So glad you’re free of the latest douche. Really, Claire, you have to stop getting into relationships with guys like that.”

Claire smiled over the rim of her glass. “And do what you do?”

Sylvia raised a brow. “And just what do I do?”

“Use guys for sex.”

“It’s all consensual. They know the deal upfront. If anything, we use each other.” Sylvia pinned her with a stare, her brown eyes shining. “Do you see me ever having your problems?”

“Well …”

Sylvia went through men like underwear. Granted, she did have a lot of fun and freedom and never let herself get involved. Maybe Claire should try that lifestyle for a while?

“I’m not a one-man kind of girl. It’s why I live in Vegas.

I’m happy. I meet a lot of hot guys and get a lot of mind-blowing sex.

” Sylvia reached for the bowl the bartender placed before her and popped a peanut into her mouth.

“Tell me, how’s what you’re doing working for you? The serial monogamy with losers?”

“Doug is an attorney.” Claire instantly regretted saying that. Why did she feel the need to defend him? Ugh.

“An ambulance chaser.” Sylvia snorted. “A personal injury attorney is the lowest kind of lawyer, in my opinion. And that’s not saying much. All of them are dirtbags.”

“Hey!”

“You are one of the good guys.” She stabbed a finger into Claire’s chest. “You help people rid themselves of deadbeat spouses. That’s an invaluable service.”

Well, that was one way to describe a divorce attorney. Before Claire went to college, Sylvia had tried everything to convince her to follow her and get a degree in accounting instead.

But Claire had had her heart set on becoming a lawyer, and that was what she’d done. What she hadn’t done was listen to her mother and avoid dating attorneys, and it had cost her dearly, the last go-around being the worst.

“I just don’t get it. If you’re so averse to marriage, why get in a long-term thing with anyone?”

“I am averse to marriage. That doesn’t mean I’m OK with cheating.” Claire sighed. “Maybe I should try what you do. Swear off relationships and just—”

“Nah. It wouldn’t work for you. You couldn’t handle it. You need one guy, but you’re looking in all the wrong places. You need someone who’ll adore you and treat you the way you deserve to be treated. Find that guy. He’s out there.”

Claire’s brows raised. This was surprising, coming from Sylvia, of all people. “Do as I say, not as I do?”

Sylvia’s grin was wicked. “Oh, definitely do as I do tonight. You need to let loose and blow off some steam. Pun very intended.” Her gaze swung back to the far side of the bar. “By the time this night is over, I’ll hook you up so fabulously that you’ll forget Doug ever existed.”

Claire smirked. “Who?”

“There you go! Good girl. I’m glad you’re starting to get it.” She looked across the bar again, and her eyes widened. “Dang, he must have been part of a wedding party. It would be so much fun to take those fancy clothes off him.”

That finally piqued Claire’s curiosity. Leaning forward to see past the patrons blocking her view, she let her gaze drift in the direction Sylvia gawked.

It took exactly two seconds for her to spot him.

Oh. My. God.

There was no mistaking the tux-clad man Sylvia had noticed.

He sat there, brooding, his palm cupping a brandy snifter, light blond hair slightly mussed.

The collar of his pristine white shirt was undone, revealing a delicious, sinewy neck.

A dark purple bow tie dangled at his collar, the uneven ends lying on an impressive expanse of chest that she just knew was hard with muscle.

Claire noted the wilted boutonnière pinned to his lapel, the tiny lavender rosebuds and baby’s breath nodding sadly on delicate stems.

Somberly, he looked down into the amber liquid as if he might find an answer to an existential question in the bowl of that glass.

Even from this distance, Claire could see his face was impossibly handsome. His eyes looked dark, but who knew? It didn’t matter because their shape, his high cheekbones and chiseled jaw, and lips that seemed too sensual for a man’s face presented quite a visual delight.

“Well, would you look at that.” Sylvia motioned with her chin.

Claire turned her head to see another man, also dressed in a tux, striding toward the first guy from the direction of the restrooms.

Sylvia grinned. “One for each of us, and this one has dark hair, so now we won’t have to fight. Or share.”

Claire laughed. “You are so crazy.”

“The second one has a bigger boutonnière. Good God, he’s crazy hot. And …” Sylvia frowned. “He looks positively miserable.”

“That he does.” Claire watched as the first man looked up and clapped the second man’s shoulder, leaning in to talk with intensity. Whatever the blond man said seemed to help because one corner of the dark-haired man’s mouth tipped up as they clinked glasses.

“Yeah, you can have the blond one. I’ll cheer up Mouthwatering Misery Man.” Sylvia nodded and reached for her clutch but halted. “And just when you think it couldn’t get any better”—she elbowed Claire much too hard— “look!”

“You’ve said look ten times in two minutes,” Claire muttered, rubbing her arm. That would surely bruise tomorrow. She loathed how alcohol made people incapable of tempering their actions.

Three more tux-clad men made a beeline for the other two, and it was all Claire could do to keep her jaw from dropping. “Seriously?”

“I know, right? Are all the men in this group models or something?”

“Roll your tongue back in your mouth, Sylvia. You already committed to Magical Misery Man.”

“Mouthwatering,” Sylvia corrected. “And I reserve the right to change my mind. Or add to my happy little harem.” Her smile was sly, and Claire knew she wasn’t joking. She wished she could be as uninhibited as her friend because, in all honesty, the stories of hot one-night stands did intrigue her.

What would it be like to hook up with a random gorgeous stranger?

Just for one night.

She took another sip of her drink and watched the three men cross the room.

One was blond and looked nearly identical to the man at the bar.

Surely, they were brothers. One’s hair was chestnut brown, and the third had hair as black as a raven’s wing.

They strode in as if they owned the place, earning appreciative glances and murmurs from several women.

“That’s it, I’m going over there.” Sylvia set down her glass with a clink. “Plenty of exotic fish in that pond, and I’m going to catch me something before someone else beats me to it.”

Claire shook her head. “Sylvia, wait—”

But her friend had already hopped off her barstool, giving Claire no choice but to follow. In her state, who knew what trouble Sylvia could get into? It had nothing to do with the five gorgeous men at the end of the bar, nor the hot blond one, who now laughed at something his brother had said.

Before she knew it, she faced the group, right behind Sylvia, who tipped her head and smiled.

“How much does a polar bear weigh?” she asked too loudly.

Claire inwardly groaned.

Five pairs of eyes snapped to Sylvia. The blond man she had ogled, however, immediately shifted his gaze to capture Claire’s, making her entire body suddenly suffuse with heat.

His eyes were deep, dark blue. Eyes like the ocean, and you could drown in them.

The chestnut-haired one smiled, revealing dimples. “Tell us.”

“Enough to break the ice.” Sylvia grinned, and the men chuckled. “I’m Sylvia.” Reaching behind her, she grabbed Claire’s hand and hauled her forward. “And this is Claire,” she continued, her eyes zooming in on the chestnut-haired man’s mouth. “Claire wants to know if you would like to kiss me.”

“Oh my God,” Claire muttered. She felt her cheeks flame, and the blond-haired man grinned at her.

She almost couldn’t stand it, he looked so good. And yet, she couldn’t wrench her eyes away from his face.

“I’m Devon.” The chestnut-haired man held out his hand to Sylvia, pulling her to him. “And, yes, Sylvia, I do want to kiss you.”

Sylvia was in his arms the next second, with Devon kissing her as if his life depended on it. Her hands roamed across his chest, then wandered down.

Claire’s lips parted, and she felt something clench in her core, so powerful that she shuddered.

She felt the blond man’s stare, and when she looked at him again, something bright flared in his eyes, as if he knew exactly what was going on inside her as she watched the two practically devour one another.