Hot Vegas Nights (The Trifecta 1)

My mouth opens and the bitter pills land on my tongue. It appears as if my body refuses to listen to me, but has no problem listening to the comforting voice. And at this moment, I don’t mind at all. Something hard presses against my lips and I wait for more orders.

“Take small sips, but try and get as much water as you can.”

Water sounds amazing so I gulp down a large drink and my stomach rolls over not liking the feeling. I gag but it stays down.

“Hey, go slow. It’s not going anywhere.” The voice has amusement in it and it’s even better than it was before.

I listen and sip slowly until I empty the whole bottle.

“Good job. Now lie back down and rest some more.”

My head drops back into the pillow and I back up into the hard heat behind me. A thick blanket is pulled up to my shoulders. I snuggle even further into the warmth. A large arm comes over my waist, and I clutch onto it not wanting it to go anywhere. Sleep claims me and I go with it without any fight.

* * *

Where the hell am I?

My eyes crack open and they slam shut again with a snap. The light is too much for the sensitive orbs. The bright white wall I'm facing is one I’ve never seen before. Without opening my eyes again, I use my other senses to take inventory of my surroundings. The bed, like the wall, is one I’m not familiar with. The pillow smells masculine and inviting. I’ve smelled this scent before. The thick comforter is lush and soft and I don’t need to open my eyes to know it’s expensive.

I wiggle my toes, all ten of them appear to be accounted for. I mentally run up my legs noticing they’re bare. Ok, that’s something I need to figure out. My hands run up my abdomen and I breathe out a relieved breath when I notice I’m wearing some type of t-shirt.

With careful movements I open my eyes again and move my head catching what I didn’t the first time. There’s an ache in my skull, but nothing I can’t handle. The room swarms in and out before I blink a couple times to get it in focus. The room itself is huge and immaculate.

The maroon comforter is just as I thought, expensive and gorgeous. There’s big cherry wood furnishings artfully arranged in the mystery room. None of them have any clutter, all barren and useless in giving me clues as to where I am. It’s as if I mysteriously ended up in a magazine photo shoot.

I push the comforter down and my body mourns the loss of its heat. The thought of heat pushes a memory into my head but it slips away before I can study it more. I glance down and see I’m wearing a large t-shirt that, like everything else, isn’t familiar to me.

I look around for my purse, but don’t see it. My toes curl into the thick maroon carpeting as I stand. My body revolts from the change in altitude. I stop and breathe in deeply through my nose and out of my mouth until everything settles down.

Once I get my body to stop attempting an upheaval, I turn around in the room still not seeing anything familiar. I get down on my knees to look under the bed hoping my phone and purse are there. And as I stand, memories start tumbling around giving me a glimpse of what happened last night.

“Maureen,” I say to the white walls.

I remember the strip club, the sexy triplet who made me drink from his abdomen. A shiver hits me but I continue shifting through my memories. I went outside not wanting to go back to the VIP room. Chuck, the bouncer talked about his daughter. And then Maureen came out with her pack of bitches.

This is where things become patchy. I remember Maureen yelling at me, and then someone coming to my rescue. It was the one I sipped champagne out of his belly button from. I’m sure of that. Even though the Trifecta are identical triplets I can tell which one’s mine.

Well, not mine, but the one who I had the most interaction with.

Why would he come to my rescue?

I wasn’t very nice. I mean, I wanted to be nice to him. I wanted to be very nice. But, just being around Maureen brought up my defenses and had really nothing to do with him.

Strains of music come from outside, and I decide to venture out. It’s the only way I’m going to get answers. I take tentative steps until I trust my legs to hold me up. The amount of drinks I consumed filter into my mind and I’m surprised I don’t feel worse being the lightweight I am.