Dirty Vegas Nights (The Trifecta #2) - Logan Chance Page 0,4

she wants. Besides, it’s not like I get totally naked either. I’m more of just an exotic dancer. One who gets paid big big bucks to parade around in lingerie and bikinis.

“She just fell asleep,” I say, hitching my duffle bag on my shoulder. I leave early so I can do my hair and make-up at the club to ensure Felicity doesn’t have to see me all dolled up. Thankfully the owner is nice enough to put my stage time later at night, so I can put my daughter to sleep. My mother sips her tea on the couch. I kiss the top of her head when I walk by her. “Have fun tonight. You two don’t get into any trouble.”

“I was planning on inviting our neighbor over.” She lifts her mug up to her face, trying to hide her grin.

“Have fun with that,” I say, walking toward the door. “His name is Axel by the way. If you’re going to be inviting people over you might as well know their name.”

“Thanks for the info,” she says as I walk out the door unable to stop myself from smiling. She’s such a crazy old lady.

My feet are killing me when I pull into the driveway after my shift at the club. My driveway. To my house. The house I worked my ass off to own. And I do own it. It’s sometimes hard to imagine me as a homeowner. But here I am, owning it.

I shut off the engine to my car, unable to exit just yet.

The exhaustion is real.

Tonight was brutally busy, which is evident by the amount of cash stuffed in my duffel bag. I normally go to the bank as soon as I get off work. I like to deposit my tips so I don't have a lot of cash around, but I’m so tired all I can think about is getting as much sleep as possible before Felicity wakes up.

Gathering what little energy I have, I push out of the car and walk to the trunk to retrieve my bag. Headlights cut across the lawn, and I flinch, hoping it’s not who I think it is. I ease my duffel bag out of my trunk, getting a glimpse of what I’m wearing. “Shit,” I say under my breath.

I was tired when my shift was over, and it’s still sweltering outside being summer in Vegas, so I didn’t bother changing. I’m fully regretting that decision right now.

Because right now I’m in tiny sparkly-red booty shorts with matching bra with only a small cut off white shirt thrown over it. I move quickly toward my house just as the sound of a car door slamming shut echoes in the night, or should I say early morning?

I close my eyes and tell myself to ignore it, but my traitorous body has other ideas. My head turns just in time to see Axel staring at me, leaning against his Range Rover. My body burns as he takes in my scantily-clad form, and I hate myself for it.

And I hate myself even more that I like his eyes on me.

“You must be the new neighbor. I’m Damien.”

Wait.

There are two of them? Fuck. An exact replica of the man who haunted my nap stands in front of me. He moves closer, and I can spot the difference between the two. Damien’s eyes don’t hold the intensity, the same fire, Axel’s held earlier today. Damien’s eyes seem more aloof. I clear my throat before shaking his outstretched hand.

“I’m Emma, and yes, I’m your new neighbor.” My stupid eyes drift over to the real Axel, who stands near the rear of the Rover. And there’s the intensity I dreamed about earlier. His eyes blaze into mine before making a slow, torturous trek over my body. My skin lights up with goosebumps. And I hate myself even more for not being able to ignore him.

They may be twins, but I would be able to pick Axel out of a line up of a thousand clones. My nipples react to the idea of there being more copies of this man, but I push that thought aside immediately.

“I heard you met my brother, Axel, this morning. We also have another brother, Ben, but he lives with his fiancée. He comes over almost every day so you’ll be seeing him too.”

“There’s one more?” I gulp away the urge to laugh as my weird fantasy of having more of them becomes a reality. I wonder for a moment if