Double or Nothing: A Menage Romance (Double the Fun Book 3) Page 2

  “What are you doing?”

  “Helping.”

  Her heart hammered despite her attempts to stay professional. All she could see were those thick arms wrapped around her middle. His commanding shoulders blocking out the rest of the room as he leaned in. This can’t be happening. She shook her head. “You don’t need to help, really.”

  “I want to.”

  God, didn’t he get it? “No, it’s fine, I’m sure I can—”

  The man held up a hand to cut her off and Willa instantly bristled. He might be Adonis in a suit, but no one dismissed her with a hand. She palmed her hip. “Does that work for you?”

  He raised an eyebrow in question.

  She sighed before spelling it out. “The motioning at me like I’m a child.”

  “What can I say? I’m used to getting what I want.” His eyes darkened to midnight as he stepped closer.

  He’s not talking about me. He can’t be. Willa swallowed. “If you’d like to talk business, I’d prefer to wait until my display is set up. Then you can choose from the complete collection.”

  He glanced down at the bracelet still in her hand. “I’m not interested in buying your jewelry, although it is splendid.”

  Oh. Willa stepped back with a frown. All this time she’d assumed he’d been a buyer. Why would he stop to admire her work if he wasn’t interested? She blew off the disappointment. “I’m sorry I’ve wasted your time.”

  “You haven’t.”

  They were going in circles and getting nowhere. Memories of arguing with Mark filled her mind. Endless demands, her refusals. She wasn’t going down that road again, good looks or not.

  She threw her arms out in exasperation. “What is it you want?”

  All at once, the man closed the distance between them, leaning so near, the fresh-shaven smoothness of his cheek brushed against her own. His breath blew hot over her ear. Willa shivered.

  “I want you.”

  A nervous laugh bubbled up from her throat and she stepped back. He has to be kidding. “You’re joking.”

  “No.”

  She eyed him with a hefty dose of skepticism. If he was really interested, then he wouldn’t mind sticking around. “Would you settle for some manual labor?”

  With a nod of his head, he agreed. “For now.”

  Willa shouldn’t believe him. Everything about him screamed supermodels and actresses. Money and excess. Not Willa Gordon from the suburbs of Los Angeles, broke and newly single, trying to make enough money for rent.

  She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “You could help me find all the pieces I spilled. The gold blends into the pattern on the carpet.”

  Without another word, the man bent back down before running his fingers over the floor.

  Willa stood there, frozen. His suit jacket alone cost more than anything she’d brought with her to sell, but there he was, scouring the carpet without hesitation.

  Did he mean it? Did he really find her attractive? She shook her head.

  The whole point of hopping on a plane to Vegas was to get over relationships and men and have a fling with someone one hundred percent not boyfriend worthy. A hot body, not a total package.

  But there she was, ogling a man who checked all the right boxes. Willa slid down to her knees. The sooner she found everything that had fallen, the sooner she could say goodbye to Mr. Perfect and get on with her trip.

  “Are you only in town for the convention?”

  She exhaled and tried to focus on the floor. A few more sentences from his full lips and she’d forget all about her goals for the trip and ask him out. She forced herself to nod in answer. “That and hopefully a bit of a vacation. You?”

  He held out a handful of tiny earrings Willa had fashioned out of hammered gold wire before answering. As her fingers brushed across his palm a thrill rushed through her. Visions of him pinning her to the wall and running that same hand up her dress filled her mind. He snaked his hand over hers before letting go and the sparks from just his touch caught her breath.

  “No.”

  The fantasy vanished. “Excuse me?”

  “I’m not here for the convention.”

  “Oh.” Her cheeks heated, but she managed to keep her eyes focused on his face. “Then are you here for business or pleasure?”

  His eyebrow quirked. “Why do they have to be separate?”

  HANK

  The calluses on the tips of her fingers and pads of her palms spoke of hours of intricate work. Based on the skill involved in every piece he’d admired so far, the woman poured her soul into her work. It was so much more than a job. It was her passion.

  She of all people had to understand the blend of work and fun and pleasure and pain.

  But she answered him with furrowed brows. “Because that’s the way the world works.”

  “Don’t you love what you do?”

  “Of course I do, but that’s not what I was talking about.”

  “How is it any different?” Hank plucked a paper thin bracelet off the floor and turned it over in his hand. Gorgeous. “My business is pleasure. I live and work right here in Vegas.”

  She reached for the bracelet, but he refused to give it up. Her fingers rested on top of his and Hank held her gaze. Those brown eyes of hers held more than mere curiosity. They brimmed full with lust.

  “So you’re in the entertainment business?”

  He smiled. “Something like that.” He let go of the bracelet and caught her wrist. Her pulse sped up beneath his fingers. “When does the trade show end today?”

  Her eyelids fluttered. “I’m sorry?”

  “Tell me what time I can pick you up for dinner.”

  “Are you asking me out on a date?”

  “Yes. Is that a problem?”

  “You don’t even know my name.”

  He pulled her up to stand before giving her hand a brief shake. “Hank Beauchamp, at your service. And you are?”

  “Willa Gordon.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Willa. So about that date. What time should I pick you up?”

  Her gaze travelled down the length of him before coming back up to meet his eyes. He knew he’d been bold, but a woman as beautiful and brash as Willa needed a man who knew what he wanted. A man who could command a room with a nod of his head. A man who could ravish her curves all night long.

  Maybe more than one. If he were lucky, she could be the woman who could handle both the Beauchamp brothers.

  At last, she smiled. “The trade show ends at six, but you can’t pick me up.”

  A flash of disappointment struck Hank, but he steeled his expression. “Why not?”

  “Because I’m meeting you in the lobby of the hotel at seven.”

  “Do I make you nervous?”

  “No, but I’m not telling a stranger what room I’m staying in. For all I know you could be a serial killer.”

  Hank laughed.

  “You’re not, are you?”

  “No.” He didn’t add that he could find out her room number in less than a minute. Instead, he brought her hand up to his lips. So soft, yet so strong. He kissed her skin before letting her go. “Then I’ll see you at seven, Ms. Gordon.”

  Her tongue darted out to wet her lower lip and Hank bit back a groan. Before the night was over he’d know what her lips tasted like. What her tongue felt like sliding down his cock. He could hold off a few hours.

  “What should I wear?”

  He grabbed his jacket with a grin. “Surprise me.”

  Chapter 3

  TRENTON

  Trenton raked a hand through his hair as he took the stairs two at a time. Finding a girlfriend shouldn’t be so hard. He’d picked up women in bars, met them while walking down the street, he’d even gone out with the barista in the casino next door.

  But as soon as he mentioned his brother and the word threesome, they all stared at him with those big, wide, disbelieving eyes and ran the other way. It didn’t help that Hank refused to go the match
maker route.

  If they threw enough money at a matchmaker, she’d find them a girlfriend who didn’t balk the minute they mentioned their preference. So they liked to share one woman? So what? They lived in Vegas. It was a town built for sin and sex and everything in between.

  If there were any place on Earth to find a woman made for the two of them, it should be there. It shouldn’t be a fantasy. Hell, it shouldn’t even be hard. But so far, finding the right woman had proven impossible.

  Trenton hustled down the hall with a frown. It wasn’t like they wanted a one-night stand. Those came a dime a dozen. No, at thirty-one, Trenton wanted to settle down. Find someone who fit both him and Hank and could be the anchor in their busy lives. The woman who could handle not only two men, but who could see past their status to the real Beauchamp brothers.

  They might not be known outside of Vegas, but there in the city, neither brother could walk down the street without stopping a half a dozen times to talk to someone who knew them by sight.

  He wanted a woman above it all. Someone who could see past their last name and the fortune that came with it. Someone real. Authentic. Someone who could run barefoot through the Nevada desert and come up breathless for a kiss. Someone who would sit out on their veranda back home and watch the stars light up the desert sky.

  If they only wanted a hot body, either one of them could snap their fingers and make it happen. They’d settled for momentary diversions for too long.

  When their personal assistant had broached the subject, he thought she’d found the answer. A cute brunette who played tennis and preferred a night in to a night on the town. But one five-minute conversation and those hopes were dashed quicker than a roll of the dice at the craps table.

  She wanted traditional. Stable. Boring.

  Not Trenton and Hank. He glanced around as the convention hall came into view. His brother had mentioned the jewelry show as he’d walked out the door. Trenton needed to hunt him down and break the bad news before trying again to convince Hank to pursue other means.

  Turning to the main aisle, Trenton slowed to a stop. He’d found his brother and he wasn’t alone. Hank stood, arms outstretched, clasping the hand of a woman who satisfied all of Trenton’s cravings.

  Navy blue dress, tight in all the right places. Long blonde hair cascading over her shoulders. Red, fuck-me pumps. And those curves… Trenton watched as she smiled at his older brother, cheeks warming as she laughed.

  They always had shared the same taste in so many things. It’s what made them so good in business and the bedroom.

  One woman, four hands. Together, they could make her come all night. But he wanted more. No more flings. No more vacation trysts. He wanted the real fucking thing.

  Hank and the woman bent to the floor as Trenton watched, running their hands over the carpet in search of something. She leaned over, cleavage peeking out from the V in her dress, luscious breasts spilling over a dark bra. Is that lace?

  Hank, you devil, you. His brother leaned close, lips tight against the woman’s ear. Heated whispers in the middle of a packed convention hall. The chemistry was palpable. Trenton could almost taste her sweetness on his tongue, all peaches and cream.

  They would be good together; all three of them.

  The woman’s cheeks flushed and she glanced up, gaze landing smack on Trenton. He expected her to balk. At least push back and compose herself. But she held his stare, lips open, eyes alive.

  Interesting. He raised an eyebrow. She bit her lip. Never in a million years could a stranger Hank just met be the one. But the longer they all stood there, wrapped up in something Trenton couldn’t name, he wondered.

  What did they have to lose?

  As Hank stepped back, Trenton made his decision. He eased back into the crowd to let his brother pass. When he’d cleared the convention hall floor, Trenton approached. The woman stood at a table, unloading trays onto a blue patterned tablecloth.

  “I hope my brother didn’t monopolize too much of your time.”

  A necklace slipped from her fingers as she turned around. Yes. Even more stunning up close. Bee-stung lips. Chestnut eyes. Black, thick lashes.

  He held out his hand. “Trenton Beauchamp. And you are?”

  Her fingers slipped over his, so small against his palm. “Willa Gordon.” She paused for a moment. “Hank is your brother?”

  “I’m afraid so. He wasn’t causing problems, was he?”

  She shook her head and her gold drop earrings shimmered in the light. “Just the opposite. Hank was gracious enough to help me with my jewelry. I spilled my case all over the convention floor. What a way to start the show, right?”

  “Lucky for you my brother came along. All that searching down on your hands and knees. It’s a shame I wasn’t here to help. I love a good treasure hunt.”

  Willa blushed and clasped her hands together, but not before Trenton caught the slight tremor in her fingers. She was adorable nervous.

  “Is this your first time to Vegas?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  Perfect. “When does the show end for the day?”

  “Six, but—”

  “How about dinner? I could meet you right here.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  What? Trenton cocked his head. He wasn’t giving up. “You can’t spend your first night in Vegas alone. It’s against the rules.”

  Willa raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t think Vegas had any rules.”

  “Lucky for you that you’ve met me. I know them all. So, dinner?”

  “Settle for a rain check? Your brother beat you to it. I’m meeting him in the lobby at seven.”

  Damn. He should have known. No bother. “Then how about after dinner? I can take you dancing.”

  She chewed on her lip. “I have the convention tomorrow.”

  “Then how about drinks and dessert? No late night, I promise.”

  “Won’t your brother mind?”

  Trenton stifled a laugh. “Not at all.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “One hundred percent.”

  He could see the hesitation all over her face. But curiosity lurked just behind it. Say yes. Just say yes.

  At last, she nodded.

  “Then okay. Dessert sounds lovely. Where should I meet you?”

  Trenton smiled as he stepped back. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll come to you.”

  “But—”

  “See you this evening, Willa.” Trenton turned around before she could voice another protest.

  It didn’t take him long to track his brother down. He found him brooding over a cup of coffee in their office kitchen.

  “Excellent taste as usual, Hank.”

  “In coffee?”

  “No. Women. I just met Willa Gordon.”

  Hank leaned back in his chair. “I take it Dawn’s friend didn’t pan out.”

  “Not exactly. But Willa…”

  “Is spectacular.”

  “Yes, she is.” Trenton poured himself a cup of coffee before turning to face his brother. “I asked her out. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “What did she say?”

  Trenton shrugged. “At first she was concerned about what you’d think. But I assured her that wouldn’t be an issue.”

  Hank eyed him over the edge of his mug. “You didn’t tell her about us, did you?”

  “What, that we like to date the same woman?” Trenton laughed. “Not exactly first meeting material, that one.” He pushed off the edge of the counter where he’d been leaning and took a chair opposite Hank. “I’m picking her up at the end of your date. Drinks and dessert. The private suite.”

  “She said yes to that?”

  “I might have left out the details.”

  His brother snorted. “She’ll take one look at that set up and turn right around.”

  “Want to bet?”

  “Not this time.” Hank eyed the rest of his coffee for a moment. “She's not like most women we pick up, Trenton.”

&
nbsp; It was good to hear the hope in his brother’s voice. Hank hadn't told him to quit looking for a woman to share their lives with, but he'd known his brother had all but given up. Trenton sipped his coffee before answering.

  “Are you telling me she might be the one?”

  “Sounds crazy when you say it out loud.”

  “But?”

  “She could be, yeah.” Hank set his cup on the table and ran his thumb across the lip. “There's just something about her. I can't explain it.”

  Trenton couldn't either, but he understood exactly what his brother meant. Willa might be a stranger to them both, but he couldn't shake the feeling that she could be more. So much more.

  “What are you planning?”

  “Dinner. Maybe.”

  Trenton picked up on the tone of Hank’s voice. It meant trouble. “And what then?”

  Hank shrugged. “I'm playing it by ear.”

  “So you're not going to tell me?”

  “Not a chance.”

  Trenton shook his head. “Whatever it is, make it good.”

  “Don't worry. That's my specialty.”

  Hank stood up, cup in hand. “See you this evening?”

  Trenton nodded. “Do you really think she’ll go for us?”

  Hank didn’t respond until he’d drained the last of his cup. “If not, we’ll just have to change her mind.”

  Chapter 4

  WILLA

  A slinky silver number slid down her body and Willa grimaced in the mirror. I am not auditioning for the porn version of cabaret. Ugh. As fast as it slid on, Willa tugged it off, throwing the sparkly mess on top of the growing heap at her feet.

  How was she supposed to come up with something to wear on consecutive dates with two men? Two! Brothers no less! God, she didn’t have a clue.

  All she did know was that Hank and Trenton Beauchamp were God-like specimens of pure, authentic, can’t buy-it-in-stores man.