Raise a shout for another incredibly hot the Wicked Horse Vegas series!
The fans of previous the Wicked Horse series I do not have to encourage to read this. It was a great surprise and I am so very happy, that in a little bit different setting, because in Vegas, I can continue to enjoy this series. It’s still good and burning hot story. And yes, it’s standalone. So you can just start reading from this one.
The owner of the Wicked Horse Vegas, Jerico Jameson is a hot, alpha male who once got hurt, and does not want to repeat this mistake again. Now every night at his club he indulges in the pleasures of different women, never the same.
Trista Barnes is in trouble. She is in a situation where she had to ask for help. She goes to Jerico’s club and gets a job that will repay her debt. But she completely doesn’t know in what she’s getting into.
It is simply very hot, but also has a well-developed and built story. Sawyer Bennett is a great storyteller and if you have not read her yet, you must. She has books for everyone.
We’re at a table with six other people who Jerico knows. It hits me suddenly that he’s not just a hermit who hides in The Wicked Horse, but a real businessman. He owns a prominent security-consulting company and is probably very involved with the community if he’s attending functions like this.
I sit quietly, feeling like Julia Roberts in Pretty Women as the men discuss business and politics and the women talk to each other and ignore me. I only hope to God they don’t bring escargot because I definitely cannot eat it, and I don’t feel like being embarrassed by flinging a shell across the room.
When the salad is served, however, the chatter across the table dies down and Jerico turns slightly toward me as we eat. Leaning over, he whispers, “I hate all this polite chitchat.”
I have to swallow down a giggle before I whisper back to him. “Well, suck it up and eat your salad.”
Jerico responds by putting his hand on my leg, giving it a squeeze, and then using his fingers to pull at the silk of my gown. He gets it to rise right to my knees and then his hand is snaking under. I slap a hand on his wrist, look around the table to see everyone engaged in food or personal talk, and then I make a decision.
Not to stop him but to pull his hand up higher. I do this while watching Jerico’s nostrils flare and his eyes darken with arousal. But he does nothing more than squeeze the inside of my thigh before taking his hand away. I grin at him in satisfaction when he leans over once more to whisper, “Would you have really let me finger you under the table?”
“Yes,” I whisper back to him, my skin tingling with the prospect of what I almost let him do.
“Dirty girl,” he says with appreciation in his eyes. “But even I have my limits on what I’ll do in public. Besides, you’re too much of a screamer. We would have never gotten away with it.”
For three nights, I’ve watched her.
By any definition, I’d totally be considered a stalker.
But from the comfort of my office, I can pull up the security feeds on my monitor and take note of the subtle changes in Trista as she works the condiment tray. Truth be told, I don’t need her working that job and have a much greater need for her to go back to cleaning, but fuck if she doesn’t look a hell of a lot sexier in a thong than a turtleneck and pants.
Part of my training in the military was gathering intelligence, so I can pick up on the slightest of details that could tell me a very important story, and there were a lot of changes I noticed over the last three days with Trista as she settled into her job routine.
The most important and pleasing thing was that Trista’s stopped hiding her sexual curiosity. When she first started working here, she looked around a room in a vague way, not taking in too many details. I think she was afraid to watch.
Afraid of what it would do to her body.
But that has definitely changed.
Now, Trista watches what the patrons are doing. Sometimes, she stares for long moments and much to my delight, the kinkier the acts, the longer she stares. My trained eyes take in her chest rising and falling to keep up with what I’m sure was a racing pulse. She’d adjust the straps covering her breasts in a very minute way either because the pressure on her nipples was too much, or because she wanted to create some friction.
Naughty, naughty girl.
My favorite though was when she would cross one long leg over the other and squeeze her thighs together as she watched, and I had no doubt her clit was probably pulsing with desire.
Trista was getting braver too. She never once took any man up on an offer to join, and there had been some I’d seen. I had told her she could if business was slow, but I also made a spectacle in front of Willis that she was off limits. Perhaps Trista thinks she’s off limits to everyone, and it’s fine by me if she wants to think that.
About The Author
Since the release of her debut contemporary romance novel, Off Sides, in January 2013, Sawyer Bennett has released more than 30 books and has been featured on both the USA Today and New York Times bestseller lists on multiple occasions.
A reformed trial lawyer from North Carolina, Sawyer uses real life experience to create relatable, sexy stories that appeal to a wide array of readers. From new adult to erotic contemporary romance, Sawyer writes something for just about everyone.
Sawyer likes her Bloody Mary’s strong, her martinis dirty, and her heroes a combination of the two. When not bringing fictional romance to life, Sawyer is a chauffeur, stylist, chef, maid, and personal assistant to a very active toddler, as well as full-time servant to two adorably naughty dogs. She believes in the good of others, and that a bad day can be cured with a great work-out, cake, or a combination of the two.