Sucker Bet (Vegas Vampires #4)(29)
Author: Erin McCarthy

And she dragged Gwenna to the nearest quartet of men, who looked up with obvious lustful interest, which was to be expected given they were being assaulted by two women not wearing enough clothing. Gwenna felt her cheeks burning, but reminded herself the room was dark, with red strobe lights, and no one would notice in the slightest her blush. Besides, she was supposed to be looking for Slash. It was part of her new plan to be proactive. Waiting around for him to approach her was so last century.

"So which one of you has the biggest penis?" Kelsey said to the men.

Chapter Nine

Gwenna about laid an egg. That was Kelsey’s preferred method of hitting on guys?

Of course, her rather private and very inappropriate question got a reaction from all the men, who actually weren’t of the tattooed variety, but looked like they had gone from the fraternity house to the golf course and had somehow landed in the wrong concert hall. All four insisted they had the biggest dick ever known to man, bragging to such an extent that Gwenna would have thought they were carrying an anaconda around in their pants from their descriptions.

"I’m serious," the one said when Kelsey told him he had to be lying. "It’s just a fact. I’m huge."

"Show us," Kelsey challenged.

Oh, no. Gwenna wanted out of the us in that statement. She said, "No, really, don’t show us. We believe you."

"I don’t. I bet you’ve got nothing." Kelsey waved her hand in the air and started to turn.

Big Dick grabbed her arm and said, "If you want to see it, I’ll show you."

Kelsey gave him an incredibly sweet smile. Gwenna was astonished at how manipulative Kelsey was behind that ditzy grin. "Cool. All of you, bring them out on the count of three."

Which was how Gwenna found herself staring at four penises simultaneously, doubling her lifetime exposure to male members in a matter of five seconds.

It was astonishing how they could all look essentially the same, yet so very different. Big Dick had a right to his brag. He definitely looked like super-sized next to his companions. Beyond that, Gwenna was just really starting to get a good look when a club bouncer yelled, "Hey! Put that shit away. This ain’t no strip club."

She confessed to be slightly disappointed when they all immediately complied, tucking and zipping and looking around as if they’d just recalled where exactly they were. Not because she had any interest in actually interacting with any of their penises, but out of pure curiosity. It was the anatomical part that drove so much of male action she found herself wondering what was the big deal exactly. But that brief exposure didn’t answer her weighty question in the least.

"That was hot," Kelsey told them. "Thanks." She took Gwenna’s arm and led her away, whispering, "Never overstay the welcome or they’ll start to get pervy ideas."

While Gwenna didn’t think it was the lingering that would give them pervy ideas, but you know, perhaps the request to see their penises, she wasn’t going to object to leaving.

"What were you doing?" Alexis demanded, standing where they had been when she’d left them, glaring while juggling three drinks.

Kelsey giggled and took a martini glass from Alexis. "Nothing."

"We just saw those guys’ penises," Gwenna confessed.

"Oh, Lord." Alexis rolled her eyes and swallowed half her drink, handing the remaining one over to Gwenna. "Oh, look, I think the band is coming on to play."

The noisemakers had left and there was some movement onstage. Gwenna couldn’t see very well because she was short and it was a standing-room-only concert in a nightclub. There were some tables on the balcony to the side, but the majority of the room was just a vast crowd of heads blocking her view. She could see the drum set and a guy with dark hair behind it messing around adjusting things. The rest of the stage just looked crowded with instruments, mics, and amplifiers. Absently, she took a large sip of her drink and stood on her tiptoes.

Bloody hell, the martini Alexis had got her was strong. Her eyes were watering, which could be dangerous, given her predilection for blood tears. She swiped at her eyes and gave a little cough.

Someone jostled her elbow. "Hi."

It was a guy. Another version of the jeans, black’t-shirt, skull-and-crossbones-necklace-wearing, shaved-head guy.

"Hey. Is your name Slash?" she asked, deciding to hell with subtle.

"No." He raised an eyebrow. "But it could be if you want it to."

"No, I don’t. I hate that name. I despise it. If you were named Slash I was going to spit on you."

"Ooookay." He turned and left, practically running.

Gwenna couldn’t believe she’d just done that. She burst out laughing. "I’m losing my mind," she told Alexis.

"No, you’re just coming into your own, sister. Go with it."

Maybe that was it. She was coming into her own. It was a liberating feeling. She’d had sex on a massage table with a hot-tie cop, and now she was getting sloshed on a martini at a rock concert wearing a napkin for a dress. This beat the hell out of sitting by herself in York sewing fuzzy scarves.

"Hey." She grabbed the arm of a guy in his young twenties walking past her. "Are you Slash?"

"No," he answered directly to her cle**age, which she actually had, thanks to Kelsey’s plunging dress.

"Oh, then you can keep walking."

"What if I don’t want to keep walking?"

"You have to."

"Why?"

"Because I said so."

"Oh." He left with a disappointed look.

Gwenna was either drunk with power, or the martini that was essentially pure alcohol with a dash of apple flavoring had gone straight to her head. The room was getting quite warm and her fingertips felt slightly numb. By the time the band had taken the stage and performed their first set, Gwenna had plowed through two more martinis, had spoken to at least fifty guys, got propositioned multiple times, and was shown another three penises—confirming for her that all men were not created equal. She also had her ass fondled with no idea who the culprit was, and still had yet to find the infamous and ever elusive Slash.

He was starting to tick her off.

And she was definitely drunk. She was as drunk as her Uncle William when he’d fallen into the ale barrel and had drunk it down so he wouldn’t drown without an adequate air supply.

"Who is Slash?" Alexis yelled into her ear, The Impalers blasting out a song that Gwenna thought she might recognize. Or maybe it was just that so many songs had the word baby in them.

"I don’t know who Slash is." Which was the damn frustrating part of the whole thing.