What Happens in Vegas

My agent seemed to have every excuse in the book, especially when it came to blowing me off. Either the timing wasn’t right, or the studios were tightening their belts again. The movie house wasn’t hiring. This one or that one was always going belly up. There was probably some truth to it, sure, but not to the extent Brian made it out. Through the grapevine I knew he was still taking on new clients. Younger clients, who were fresh and exciting and hadn’t been chewed up and spit out for lack of taste or flavor, yet.

Right now it was easy to get away. I had nothing lined up… not even any good prospects on the horizon. I was the out-of-work actor, waiting tables to make ends meet. Only instead of waiting tables I was doing data entry from my living room, which was a lot less glamorous and sure as shit didn’t put me in front of nearly as many movie people.

“You still doing data entry from your living room?” Corey asked, as we unpacked our food into the sleek, empty cabinets.

“You still swinging your ass back and forth for a dollar a clip?”

Corey froze, right in middle of putting a six pack into the fridge. Brody stopped dead too.

“What?” I laughed.

We ragged on each other all the time. It was brotherly. Fun. They’d never gotten offended before. Besides, they made tons more at their jobs than I ever made at—

Oh shit.

I turned, and there she was, mouth wide open. Lauren was staring back at them in total shock.

For a long moment, no one spoke.

“Oh my God,” she gasped, incredulously. “You’re strippers?”

Very slowly, Corey set the beer down. Brody shrugged and went back to what he was doing.

“We prefer the term ‘dancers at an all male revue,’” he said at last.

Twenty-Nine

LAUREN

It’s not like I had a problem with it. Hell, it wasn’t like I was judging them at all. I was just shocked. Surprised. Totally blown away.

Strippers…

It made sense, from the way they looked. Their bodies were thick with muscle, but also ripped to shreds. They were taut and athletic, and so totally, unbelievably handsome. Not to mention the effortless rhythm in the way they’d danced with me…

“Yeah,” Brody admitted finally. “We tend bar and bus tables during the day. All told, we hustle our asses off. But most nights?” He shrugged again. “We dance.”

“Without much in the way of clothes,” Corey finished for him.

I reached out and grabbed one of the beers still on the counter. Twisting the cap off in my hand, I took a long swig.

“So?”

Mason folded his arms appreciatively across his chest My other two lovers just stood there and grinned.

“Told you she was perfect,” Brody said.

“Strippers — I’m sorry, male dancers,” I smiled. “Wow. Can’t say I expected that.”

“What did you think we did for a living?” asked Brody.

“I guess I didn’t consider it,” I shrugged. “I sorta figured the three of us were in a don’t ask, don’t tell situation.”

My eyes followed Mason’s, examining his reaction. Obviously I knew that he knew. So far he was playing very cool about it, and that made me comfortable.

For the next few minutes I helped them unload and unpack. With four of us working together, it didn’t take long.

“This place is absolutely gorgeous,” I said, looking around for the fourth or fifth time. It really was, too. “I mean… holy shit.”