A Wicked, Wild Three Day Affair Read online

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  Copyright ©2009 by Nadia Aidan

  First published in 2009

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  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  CONTENTS

  Summer Seductions

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Total-E-Bound Publishing

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  A Total-E-Bound Publication

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  www.total-e-bound.com

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  A Wicked, Wild Three Day Affair

  ISBN #978-1-907010-55-2

  (C)Copyright Nadia Aidan 2009

  Cover Art by Natalie Winters (C)Copyright July 2009

  Edited by Christine Riley

  Total-E-Bound Publishing

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author's imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.

  Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

  The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

  Published in 2009 by Total-E-Bound Publishing 1 The Corner, Faldingworth Road, Spridlington, Market Rasen, Lincolnshire, LN8 2DE, UK.

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  Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated Total-e-burning.

  Summer Seductions

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  A WICKED, WILD

  THREE DAY AFFAIR

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  Nadia Aidan

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  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

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  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Stetson: John B. Stetson Company

  Playboy: Playboy Enterprises International, Inc.

  Mandalay Bay Resort: MANDALAY RESORT GROUP CORPORATION NEVADA

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter One

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  "There he is!"

  Monica Peterson peered over the shoulder of her best friend, straining to catch her first glimpse of Soledad's soon-to-be husband, Drake. “Where? I don't see anyone."

  "Right there,” Soledad exclaimed, and Monica followed her lithe frame with curious eyes as she raced through the crowded airport to fling herself into the arms of an extremely handsome man.

  Her eyebrows knitted together as she raked her gaze over Drake Bradshaw, who was the much talked about and well-lauded love of her friend's life.

  "Well, she told me he was white,” she muttered under her breath, navigating her way through the bustling, baggage-claim area towards them. But she hadn't quite been expecting the Stetson wearing, blond-blue eyed hunk who looked more like he'd stumbled off the last rodeo circuit and less like he was the CEO of a midsized computer software firm.

  "They're definitely making computer geeks in prettier packages these days."

  As she drew closer to the couple, she realised Drake hadn't come alone. Her gaze slid over the tall, distinguished man, his large frame encased in a custom-tailored, charcoal grey suit that fit him perfectly. He stood off to the side, his handsome face twisted into a dark frown as he stared straight at her with piercing green eyes that bore into her so deeply she almost swore he could see straight to her soul.

  Her steps faltered, and she cursed her four-inch, spiked-heeled sandals, but she knew her shoes had nothing to do with her stumble. It was the way he looked at her, that probing, searching stare of his that caused a curious stirring in her belly.

  Whoa. What the hell? He was certainly good looking. Okay, very good looking but she tamped down her body's instant and completely unexpected attraction to him. He didn't like her. She could tell by the way he openly glared at her, and when his arrogant gaze roamed over her before abruptly glancing away, she knew she wasn't going to like him, either.

  She shook with barely controlled anger. He'd just dismissed her. The jerk. He didn't even know her, yet he'd already written her off, which left her to ponder the identity of this mysterious and bad-mannered man.

  "Monica, this is Drake,” Soledad gushed with a bright smile, dragging Monica's attention to the beaming couple.

  Shaking her head, she bit back a tiny grin. She'd never seen Soledad like this, but she was happy for her best friend. She certainly deserved a good man, and it seemed as if she'd found one in Drake.

  "Hello, Drake. It is certainly a pleasure to finally meet you.” She stuck out her hand, but he ignored it as he tugged her into his arms for a burly hug.

  She was so taken aback by his friendliness that for a moment she just stood there frozen with shock.

  "Soledad talks about you all the time,” Drake said. “It's a pleasure to finally meet you, too."

  "Honey, you're suffocating her."

  "Oh, sorry,” Drake said, his arms relaxing around her.

  "It's fine.” She smiled as she patted his back, grateful she could breathe again when he released her. END EXCERPT

  The three of them exchanged smiles as soft chuckles helped ease them through their first introduction, while Mister Stone-face remained aloof. Monica glanced at him, wondering again who he was and why the hell he was even there when it was so obvious that he didn't want to be.

  As if reading her thoughts, he stepped forward. “Hi, I'm Grant Reed, Drake's best friend and his best man,” he said coolly as he extended his hand.

  For a second, she considered not taking it, but she knew her rude behaviour would only serve to embarrass Soledad. She grasped his hand firmly, her eyes widening when a sharp tingle raced up her arm, to fan out across her entire body. The searing jolt hardened her nipples and ignited a deep throbbing ache between her thighs. What the hell? She instantly snatched her hand away, sliding her still tingling palm up and down the side of her leg, desperately trying to ignore the wetness that stained her panties.

  "Hi,” she mumbled stiffly, meeting his gaze, which was now clouded. He'd felt it, too, and from the hard planes of his face, he didn't like it either.

  Great. In three days her best friend was getting married to a wonderful man , whose best friend happened to be a world class jerk and dangerously attractive. She already knew sparks were going to fly, but she wasn't sure what type just yet. With his bad attitude, she just hoped she could keep her temper in check long enough for the happy couple to say ‘I do'.

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  Attorney Grant Reed knew his mother would be appalled by his bad behaviour, but he couldn't
help it. His best friend was making a mistake. Soledad seemed nice enough, and he couldn't deny Drake definitely was happy, but his friend had only met the woman a month ago while vacationing in Greece. And now, Grant was forced to suffer through and witness this farce of a wedding, in Las Vegas no less. Nothing said superficial like Vegas.

  At that thought, a vivid image popped into his head, and he glanced over at the woman seated at the dinner table beside him.

  When he'd first seen her, he'd been struck by how beautiful she was, but it was hard to appreciate her exquisite features with everything else she had going on. Her dress was too tight, moulding to every curve like it was her second skin. Her neckline was far too low, as her full breasts—which were probably implants—spilled over the top of the black mini-dress that showed off the smooth brown skin of her long shapely legs. But her heels were the worst of all. They were obscenely high fuck-me pumps. He didn't know how she could walk anywhere in them, which was probably why she'd almost tripped earlier.

  Everything about her screamed excess. Her chestnut hair hung in soft waves to the middle of her back, which was far too long for a woman, who if she was the same age as Soledad, was in her mid-thirties. He studied her more closely. She didn't wear a lot of makeup, just a dab of lipstick and some mascara, which was surprising since with everything else, she was over the top, including her perfume which he was convinced she'd drowned herself in.

  He knew Soledad was a family law attorney, but Drake hadn't told him much about Monica, probably because he knew very little about her himself. Well, if Grant were to hazard a guess, she was either a former exotic dancer or a showgirl.

  This was a nightmare. His best friend was marrying a woman he didn't even know, and for three days, he would be forced to suffer the company of a woman who oozed of sex, reminding him for the hundredth time that he hadn't gotten laid in almost six months.

  He reached for his glass of wine, downing the red liquid in three gulps. He nearly choked when Monica's thigh brushed against his beneath the table. He swallowed the last of the liquid down, as heat crawled inside his gut, inflaming his skin before dipping dangerously lower to harden his dick. His entire body pulsed with an insatiable heat as his cock fought against the confines of his pants, forcing a hushed curse from his lips, which drew her attention.

  "Sorry. I didn't mean to—"

  "It's fine,” he bit out. He kept his eyes glued straight ahead, not trusting himself to look her way. He was sure if he did his gaze would immediately land on her full, pouty mouth, making him wish he could put aside his aversion to her long enough to take a quick tumble in the sheets with her.

  He felt the burning hostility of her stare as anger poured off of her like hot lava. Good. She was angry, too. She definitely wouldn't let him touch her if she couldn't stand him, either. He needed her to hate him, or he was liable to forget that his type of woman wasn't some Lolita who looked like she'd stepped out of the pages of Playboy.

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  "You can't leave me with him,” Monica rasped under her breath, her fingers digging into Soledad's jean jacket.

  Her friend gently pried her fingers from her coat, one by one, a tight smile spreading across her lovely face. “Monica, stop being dramatic. Grant seems like a nice guy. He's probably just tired.

  She snorted, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. Tired? No! But maybe his dick hadn't thawed out yet, after all he was from Boston. She started to tell Soledad her joke but held her tongue when the two men returned to their table.

  Soledad stood pointedly ignoring her pleading gaze. Monica was going to hurt her friend later.

  "Well, we're headed off to bed. With the rest of the wedding party arriving tomorrow, I'm sure you have details you need to sort out so we'll say good night. We really appreciate all your help with pulling this off. We never would have been able to do this without the both of you,” Soledad said with a warm smile.

  Monica mumbled a quick goodbye and exchanged hugs with Drake and Soledad but not before whispering bloody retribution in her friend's ear. Soledad owed her big time now. Helping with the wedding was one thing, but leaving her with Grant?

  She stared after them like a child saying goodbye to her parents on the first day of school, wondering how the hell she and Grant were going to plan a thing together when they could hardly stand each other? They'd barely made it through dinner and the strained silences that permeated their conversation the entire time. When Grant talked to Soledad and Drake he was fine, charming and funny even, but she saw none of that because never once had he spoken directly to her. Well just once but that didn't count. He'd practically bitten off her head with two words.

  She spun around and took her seat, her back rigid as she reached for her wineglass and took a tiny sip.

  They sat across from each other, neither one making eye contact as an awkward silence stretched between them until finally Monica couldn't stand it anymore.

  "Oh, this is ridiculous.” She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table, and her chin atop her clasped hands. “What is your problem with me, Mr. Reed? Maybe if we address it now, we can get through this weekend without tearing out each other's throats."

  "Grant."

  "What?"

  "Call me Grant."

  Her lips dipped into a frown. “I don't want to call you Grant."

  A single brow lifted as a tiny smirk spread across his lips. “Don't you think that's a bit childish of you?"

  She glared at him, fighting desperately not to unleash the full flurry of her temper on him at his insult. “No more childish than you've been all day from the moment you met me."

  His grin was smug as he lifted his wine glass to his lips. She wanted to wipe it from his face but knew if she did that she'd probably ruin Soledad's wedding.

  "My apologies for my rude behaviour, but I guess you just took me by surprise?"

  "Really? In what way?"

  He leaned forward, and the air in her lungs froze at the steely expression on his face. She'd seen that look before. It was the look of a man who'd taken one glance at her and quickly decided she was an easy woman with loose morals, who was not deserving of respect and was only good for one thing.

  "Since we're both adults, let's be honest here."

  "Yes, let's,” she bit out. This was going to be interesting.

  "I wasn't happy to learn my best friend was engaged to a woman he'd met just a month ago. Then when I get here I see you. I'm not trying to be rude—"

  Bullshit. “Of course, you're not."

  "—but the moment I saw you, all I could think was Vegas showgirl and that alone further convinces me that Drake is making a mistake. This wedding...it's too hasty and it's here in Vegas, and then there's—"

  "Me. The tacky maid of honour—"

  "I didn't say that."

  Her entire body shook as she shot to her feet, anger pumping furiously through her veins.

  "For the record, Grant. Drake is not a child who needs you to protect him. And despite what you think, my best friend is probably the best damned thing that's ever happened to him, because I can tell you he's definitely the best thing that's ever happened to her. But I can see you don't care that they're happy because you're a jealous snob who is determined to see Drake miserable just because it's obvious no woman in her right mind would ever feel that way about you."

  Unable to stand the sight of him any longer, she whirled away from him. She was done giving him a piece of her mind anyway. She pushed her way through the tourists and staff who milled about inside the hotel's restaurant and rushed past the twinkling lights of the casino floor until she reached the elevator. She stood there trembling like a leaf as she stabbed at the button.

  The nerve of him to judge her. He knew nothing about her, but in less than ten seconds, he'd called her a cheap tramp, but that wasn't what had set her off. He'd insulted Soledad—in a backhanded way, and probably unintentionally, but he'd basically said Drake was too good for Soledad. She just wasn't about to s
tand for him saying stuff like that.

  The bell chimed, and the metal doors to the elevator slid open seconds later. She stepped inside, the crush of people boxing her in, but even with the dozens of guests who got on with her, she still had no trouble noticing him. He stood a head taller above everyone else inside the car, but it was his eyes that drew her gaze as they burned a hole through her with the intensity of his stare.

  She ignored him, folding her arms across her chest, to scoot deeper into the corner. They were staying on the same floor, so he would have to follow her off, but she didn't care either way because she had nothing left to say to him. He could be angry with her and her fiery put down all he wanted, but it was only what he deserved, since he'd been the one to start all of this in the first place. He'd shown up with a chip on his shoulder, and now all she wanted was for him to go to hell and stay out of her way for the rest of the weekend.

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  By the time they made it to their floor in the towers of the Mandalay Bay Resort, there were only two other guests, besides him and Monica on the elevator, so he had no trouble following her out as she stomped angrily down the hallway.

  Grant stalked behind her, visually tracing the full swell of her ass and her long shapely legs that teased him as she marched away from him. His cock twitched inside his pants, taunting him with the knowledge that he wanted a woman who he wasn't ever going to get to even touch. Not after what he'd said.

  She dragged her key-card out of her purse as she walked, quickly swiping it through the lock when she made it to her door. She knew he was right behind her, but she still tried to slam the door in his face. She wasn't fast enough. He stuck out his foot and pushed his way inside, shutting the door behind him in a single motion.

  She whipped around to face him, her brown eyes hurling angry daggers. “I know you didn't just force yourself into my room without permission."

  "I would like to talk to you."

  "Oh, I've heard quite enough from you to last me a lifetime so you can leave if all you want to do is talk,” she said with a bitter chuckle, folding her arms across her chest.