Chasing Kings Read Online Free Page A

started to fill the deep soaker tub, eyeballing herself in the mirror while steam billowed through the room. Huffing, she returned to the bedroom and shucked her clothing on top of her suitcase, finding a plush white robe in the hall closet to cover herself. She popped the champagne and glared at the glasses provided—two, of course—before sticking her tongue out at them and returning to the tub carrying the full bottle.
    As she sank into the almost too-hot water, she replayed her encounter with Ethan. Why had she been so abrupt with him? He’d actually been nice to her, in spite of all the personal-bubble invasions. Nothing he’d done warranted her being short-tempered. She’d accused him of wanting to whip his dick out, for heaven’s sake. If anything, he’d been within his rights to call security the second he found her in his suite. Instead he’d fixed everything and was probably responsible for the bottle in her hand.
    Nice-guy porn star. That didn’t compute.
    It wasn’t fair for her to judge him by his job, though. Her last boyfriend, Boring Kyle, had been a lawyer, and he’d turned out to be a deeply flawed scumbag. Ethan at least came across as decent enough. And unlike Kyle, he was honest about the fact it was his job to screw people.
    Sam took a big swig of champagne.
    What the hell was she doing here?
    It was bad enough she was going to spend Valentine’s alone, but how had she ended up spending it alone in Vegas thinking about a porn star?
    Muriel was secretly trying to ruin her life.
    She sat in the tub long enough for everything to get good and puckered, and to polish off three-quarters of the bottle of champagne. When she climbed out, the shift from lying to standing made her woozy, inducing a massive case of vertigo.
    Bracing herself against the door, she felt lightheaded and giggly and much drunker than she had in the tub. Apparently stewing in bubbly took her from zero to smashed in under sixty minutes.
    Dressed in her robe, she stumbled her way back into the bedroom and hopped onto the bed, sprawling across the king-size mattress. Now that she was feeling no pain, she could see a potential silver lining to this mess.
    She was in Vegas for a week, she had a big bed to herself, and she had no one to answer to. Back home she’d gotten accustomed to being under the watchful eye of an entire town, something that was unavoidable when you lived in a veritable hamlet with a population of thirteen hundred people. But no one from Edison Falls was with her in Vegas. There wasn’t a gang of septuagenarian women monitoring her every move to report back to the other townies, no busybody middle-aged neighbors asking why she was drinking at five o’clock on a Tuesday afternoon, and most importantly no Kyle Thomas popping up at every turn with his stupid, ditzy new girlfriend.
    And what Vegas lacked in Kyle, it made up for with men like Ethan Silver.
    Especially Ethan Silver.
    With a substantially higher blood alcohol level, Sam was beginning to reconsider her stance on the “actor”. He was good-looking, he oozed confidence the way some men reeked of desperation and he’d wanted to hang around her even after she acted like a fool around him.
    It didn’t say much for his mental capacity, but neither did his line of work. He had to be a little crazy. Crazy might be just what the doctor ordered.
    Maybe as a gift to herself, Sam would let loose and do something naughty.
    Really naughty.
    It was so far out of her wheelhouse, though, she didn’t even know how to begin. Should she ring up the front desk and ask to be patched through to the Provocateur Suite? And what did one say in that situation? Hello, Ethan, remember me? I practically broke into your room and tactfully mentioned your dick. Want to bone? I hear you might be good at it.
    Yeah, not so much.
    Was there protocol for booty calling a porn star?
    Did she have to pay?
    Sam covered her face with both hands, shaking her head and letting out a giggle.