Whipped (Hitched, #2)

But in the end, I relent, and call up my friends. Zoe says yes immediately. Kacie takes very little convincing, despite her earlier protest that she won't be hitting the town anytime soon. "Sebastian is already nodding his encouragement. He's got the babies and enough pumped milk to get through the night. I'll call Tate and have him play chauffeur to pick everyone up. Just say when."

When is now. And we are parking at the Wynn, still unsure about what we're about to see.

"He gave you no hints as to his show?" Tate asks. As the only guy in our little group when Sebastian's not with us, Tate likes to walk as if we are his arm candy. Something none of us actually put up with. But he certainly doesn't mind being surrounded by three beautiful women, even if one of those women is his twin.

Zoe nudges Tate and smiles. "We're taking bets about what he does. Want in?"

"What are my choices?" Tate asks, looking down at our petite friend.

If I'd had any worries Zoe would fit in with my friends when we first decided to go into business together—which I really didn't—they were quickly assuaged when I saw her with everyone. She fits right in, even if she has to look up to make eye contact with anyone.

"We've got magician, acrobat, singer, musician," she says, listing them one by one.

"Which did Vi pick?" he asks, winking at me with his dark eyes.

"She didn't. She said she refuses to wager on him."

I laugh at her impersonation of me. "Oh stop it, you guys. We're here."

I hand the gold cards to the concierge. "Lachlan Pierce said to give his name."

The middle-aged man behind the table nods. "Of course, please follow me. You ladies are in for a real treat tonight."

He glances at Tate and his mouth twitches. "And you too, sir."

We're taken into an auditorium and given seats front row center of the stage. As the rest of the seats fill, Tate looks around, a panicked expression on his handsome face. "Ladies… I think we might have been very wrong about Mr. Pierce's career."

"What's wrong?" I ask, and I realize what's bothering him. He might be the only man in the audience. It's full of women.

The lights go down and the crowd, instead of quieting, as is typical for a show, erupts into wild cheers.

Music fills the room and colored lights flicker over the black stage as a man does a double flip onto the stage.

I grab Kacie's hand. "Holy shit!"

"What?"

"That's Lachlan!"

He's joined by several other men who begin to do astonishing acrobatics across the stage before they start to dance.

"I can't fucking believe this!" Tate says. And the three of us are nearly in tears from laughing as Tate glares at us. "You took me to a fucking male strip show!"

I want to rib him more but Lachlan is taking center stage for an impressive solo that shows he's a lot more than just a pretty face and a hard body. He's seriously fucking talented. Like, massively so. I can't help but be impressed as he does things with his body I can't imagine being able to do.

Tate is still moaning something next to me about how this can never be forgiven and how I'll owe him eternally for this, but my eyes are locked on the beautiful man on stage.

Kacie leans into me. "This is the man you won't sleep with?"

I nod wordlessly, and she just shakes her head.

I'm beginning to agree with her assessment of my sanity as I watch what he does with his hips.

All those feelings change when the tone of the music shifts and Lachlan steps off the stage and comes right toward me. Someone announces that they need an audience member volunteer for the next dance.

Every woman in the audience—which I'm beginning to think is every woman in Las Vegas by the sound—is clamoring to be chosen.

Except me.

But Lachlan ignores my reluctance and pulls me on stage with him at my friends' encouragement. He sits me down on a chair as a spotlight blinds me to everyone but him.

Smoke fills the stage and the music turns slower, more erotic.

He begins to dance over me, pulling my hands around his hard body until they are on his ass. God, this man's ass is a study in perfection.

As he moves my hands over his body, he gyrates over me, grinding himself between my legs as his mouth hovers over my neck. With a flash of movement, he pulls his pants off and I stare, dumbstruck, at his mostly naked body, a bit of silver cloth all that remains between his cock and the rest of the world, and it's looking pretty stretched out as he grows.

He leans in again, and I feel his hard-on press against me.

"See anything you like?" he asks.

"There was a delicious looking steak on the menu at the restaurant we went to."

He shakes his head, still smiling. "I worry about your priorities."

"Oh, sex is high up there. Just not with you."

He falls back as if wounded, then keeps dancing close to me. "I understand. You're like a virgin." I nearly choke at that, but he keeps talking. "You just don't know what you're missing. Yet."

That 'yet' hovers in the air as I'm escorted back to my seat to watch the rest of the show.

After the show we are all still stuck to our seats as the rest of the women in the audience swarm the stage.

"Oh, Vi, this is horrible," Tate says. "Whenever I think of you now, I see things. Terrible things."

Kacie laughs. "I think you owe him therapy."

"They're not even fully naked," I argue.