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  Worship

  © 2020 Sarah Peis

  Published by Hexatorial

  Editing: Natasha Orme

  Editing: Hot Tree Editing

  Cover Art: Tall Story Design

  Formatting: Champagne Book Design

  ISBN epub 978-0-6489757-1-7

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author. Bad karma will follow you for life if you copy this book without permission. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s wild imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Except for Willa’s love of cupcakes. Because that’s based on a real person. Me.

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Preview of Some Call It Devotion

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Where you can find me

  Other Books

  Thank you

  To my kids. Who enthusiastically took it upon themselves to make sure this little novella took almost as long to write as a full-length novel.

  “Ralph, your legs are so hairy.”

  I shot up in bed and regretted the move immediately when a sharp pain pierced through my skull. My eyes flitted around the unfamiliar room, taking in the sparse furnishings. There was a table and chair in the corner, an open door that led to a bathroom, and a small kitchenette to the left.

  A light snore sounded to my right, and my eyes went wide at the sight. I was in bed with a man. A gorgeous man.

  A man who was talking in his sleep.

  He was on his stomach, hugging a pillow. The sheet was strewn across his waist, long muscled legs on full display. One arm was tugged underneath his head, the other dangling off the side of the bed.

  And it appeared we were both naked. Surely I’d remember—

  Images flooded my brain. Hot images. Images that made my insides tangle themselves in knots. Images that made my breath falter and my throat dry up.

  I remembered what those strong arms were capable of. How nice his thick, tawny-gold hair felt when I gripped it tight. The way his fingers slid sensuously over my body.

  I shook my head violently to get rid of the memories. When that didn’t help, I shut my eyes and took a deep breath. I repeatedly told myself I was only dreaming. Then I opened my eyes again.

  And everything still looked the same. Sleeping hot guy? Check. Fancy hotel room? Check. The only thing covering me—a sheet? Check. Ring on my finger? Check.

  Fucktrumpet. Why is there a ring on my finger?

  “Don’t eat my donut or I’ll send you to spider hell,” Hot Guy mumbled and turned on his back.

  And I nearly choked on my spit. He wasn’t just gorgeous. He was drop-dead gorgeous. His high cheekbones, thick lashes, and square jaw made me stare. His broad chest, defined six-pack, and pronounced V made me drool.

  I also knew this man. We met my first night at the hotel. His name was Landon. And he was my dream guy.

  One corner of his sensuous mouth was pulled into a slight smile. I leaned closer, unable to help myself. I had spent the night with this man. We’d done things. Lots of things that in the light of day I didn’t think I was capable of.

  What exactly happened last night?

  I gave in to the desire to stare at him more, knowing I’d have to move soon. When I found myself looking into aquamarine eyes, I squeaked and shot to the other side of the bed, pulling the sheet over me.

  Never said I was smart. What I should have done was drop the sheet and jump on him. This might be my last chance to get this close.

  Hindsight is a bitch.

  “Good morning,” Landon rumbled, his voice heavy with sleep.

  I melted into the bed, wishing he’d talk more. His voice was enough to make my body sing.

  I peeled the sheet back and blinked at him from the safety of the other side of the bed.

  “Morning,” I said. It came out croaky, and I cleared my throat.

  The corners of his mouth tilted up, and his eyes darkened. Uh-oh, I remembered that look. I immediately shuffled back. Too bad I was already at the end of the bed and slid right off the edge, landing with a loud slam.

  I’d barely caught my breath when a head appeared above me.

  “Everything okay?” he asked, and I nodded. “Need a hand up?”

  I shook my head, because if I remembered correctly, touching him led to other things.

  “What happened last night?” I asked, instead of reaching out and confirming my memories of how nice touching him felt.

  His hand went to his neck, and his grin wobbled. “Well, snowflake, I guess we got married.”

  Two days earlier

  “Why Vegas? There’s plenty of bars and clubs in LA,” I said, already knowing there was no way to change Taylor’s mind. She wanted to have a weekend in Vegas, so she would get it.

  “You live a one-hour flight away and have never even been there,” she argued.

  It was true. I had never been to Las Vegas. But I never saw the point in going since I didn’t go out much and didn’t gamble. And if I knew my friend, that was all she would want to do.

  “There’s a lot of people who’ve never been. Besides, I could spend my money on other things. Like a new oven,” I countered, eyeing the oven in question.

  It had been acting up since we moved in a few days ago. The apartment was small, but I could afford the rent without having to share a room with my sister. Giving a seventeen-year-old pubescent teenager her own space was a priority. I’d been willing to sleep on the couch if I couldn’t find a two-bedroom apartment for us, but luck had been on my side for once.

  “I already told you all you have to pay for are the flights. I won the hotel room. You have to come. Kelly said she’s in too. This is going to be so much fun.”

  Another reason not to go. Kelly was one of Taylor’s friends, and she hated me. But Taylor took every opportunity to throw us together. She wanted us to get along so bad, she ignored that we were completely different. Vegas seemed like her latest attempt at making us all the best of friends.

  “Do I have to go? You’ll have more fun without me.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “This will be good for you. One last hurrah before you embark on pursuing your boring five-year plan.”

  “Ten-year plan. And maybe you’re right,” I said. Maybe I did need to have one last weekend of fun before I pursued my goals. It wouldn’t be too bad hanging out with Kelly. After all, Taylor would be there.

  “I’m always right,” she said.

  One thing I’d learned over the last few months: life was short. You had no control over what it would throw at you. And maybe I should just live in the moment for once. One weekend wouldn’t throw me off my course. My plan was ironclad; a minor detour wouldn’t make a difference.

  And Taylor was stubborn. She wouldn’t give up, not when she thought this was the right thing to do. We’d only known each other a few months, but we had become good friends in that time.

  We worked together at an accounting and financial services firm, a place where dreams went to get pulverized. But they paid well, and it was the only place that would hire me straight out of college. Besides, I couldn’t really be picky given my current situation.

  “Finis
h packing. The taxi is waiting outside,” Taylor said, a sly smile on her face.

  “Now?” I screeched, running to my bedroom. “But Brielle hasn’t even come home yet. I need to let her know what I’m doing.”

  “It’s two nights. I’m sure she won’t even notice you’re gone.”

  I tried not to get annoyed with her flippancy. I was my sister’s guardian. I couldn’t just disappear for the weekend without a word.

  I opened my suitcase and placed clothes inside. I folded them neatly, making sure I’d have an outfit for every occasion. After getting all my toiletries, I zipped the case up and texted Brielle.

  Me: Hey, where are you? Thought you’d be home by now.

  She answered straight away, not surprising since her phone was permanently attached to her hand.

  Brielle: At Daisy’s. She said I could stay the night.

  Me: I’m going to Vegas for the weekend, so maybe you can stay with her for two nights?

  Brielle: Haha, very funny.

  Me: I’m serious.

  Brielle: No way is that part of your twenty-year plan. You hate Vegas.

  Me: Ten-year plan. And hate is a pretty strong word.

  Brielle: You said it’s a cesspit of sin. Have fun getting corrupted.

  Me: Call me if you need anything. I’m only a short flight away.

  Brielle: I’m fine. Stop worrying. And maybe leave the stick up your ass at home. You might even enjoy yourself.

  Me: The stick stays. Don’t get in trouble while I’m gone.

  “Hurry up, the taxi is outside,” Taylor called out from the living room.

  I put my phone back in my handbag and took a deep breath. I was going on this trip, and it would be fun. A mantra I would repeat a lot over the next two days. A mantra I was chanting in my head when Kelly complained about the drink selection on board. And when Taylor refused to get into anything but a limo to get to the hotel. And especially when they both abandoned me as soon as we arrived at the hotel, leaving me to take care of their luggage.

  “Do you need a hand getting your luggage upstairs, ma’am?” the concierge asked. We were staying at the Aria, and even I had to admit it looked spectacular.

  From the moment we entered the main lobby, I was staring in awe. A glass ceiling ensured the huge foyer was bright and welcoming, while trees placed around the cavernous space made it feel comfortable. They’d decorated the ceiling with colorful bikes, giving the hotel a playful edge. I immediately liked it.

  “That would be great, thank you,” I said, smiling at the guy.

  When we entered the room, I was once again in awe, realizing how little I had traveled. The expansive floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city, and the curtains opened automatically when I walked inside.

  Before I had more time to explore, the bellhop cleared his throat, and I handed him his money. The door clicked shut behind him, and I was left to explore. And explore I did. The bathroom was large and also had floor-to-ceiling windows. The best part about the modern room: I didn’t even have to talk to anyone if I didn’t want to. Anything could be booked through a tablet.

  Two queen beds took up one side of the room, and a door on the opposite side led to the bathroom.

  I sank onto the bed, debating what I should do next. Order room service? Look for Taylor and Kelly? Sleep? Find out how many channels I could get on the huge TV mounted to the wall? Or have a snack from the well-stocked minibar?

  The last option was the most attractive. But I was in Vegas. This would be my one and only visit. I should make the most of it.

  Decision made, I changed from my business suit into a teal lace dress. The embroidered skirt flared around my legs and fell about knee length.

  My normally curly strawberry blonde hair was falling in silky waves down my back thanks to the three tons of hair products I’d attacked it with this morning. I took care to fix up my makeup, applying a light coating of lip gloss to complete my look.

  Now that I’d committed to going out, I wanted to make the most of my night. My first stop would be the casino. I had no intention of gambling, but I still wanted to check it out.

  I took the elevator down to the main lobby. A couple joined me a few floors down, and I caught them staring as soon as they entered the confined space. A quick glance in the mirror confirmed all my bits were still in place. Maybe it was the hair. The color was a bit unusual.

  As soon as I entered the casino, I forgot all about the strange looks. The noise from the slot machines and people talking and cheering was overwhelming. I didn’t know where to look first.

  After standing at the entry and taking it all in, I explored the slot machines before moving on to the card tables. I was looking at the roulette wheel when I tripped. Could have been my own shoes, or maybe there was something lying on the carpet, but all that mattered was that I was about to get intimate with the floor.

  I closed my eyes and put my hands out to break my fall.

  A fall that never came.

  I peeled one eye open. I was staring at the floor, but I wasn’t lying on it—rather I was suspended above it. When I couldn’t make sense of what I was seeing, I opened my other eye.

  “You all right, sugar lips?” a velvety voice asked from above.

  I craned my neck and looked at pure male perfection. High cheekbones, full lips, and tousled blond hair. I wondered if I’d passed out and was dreaming. Then I took a breath in, and the smell coming from his shirt indicated I was wide awake. My dream man would smell like man, not the strong alcohol fumes of this guy.

  Nobody could ignore the stink coming off this fine male specimen. He smelled like he took a beer bath and forgot to rinse off after.

  “I’m okay. You can put me down,” I said, my voice wobbly from embarrassment. He was keeping me up with one arm around my waist. I knew I didn’t weigh much, but he was holding me in front of him like it was nothing.

  He put me back upright. “Sure thing.”

  I put my best “be friendly to the stranger you’ll never see again" smile on my face and nearly choked when I looked into his beautiful sapphire eyes. They were sparkling with mirth, and when he winked, I nearly went down again.

  “Thank you for saving me,” I said, my voice breathless. And I knew it wasn’t just from nearly landing on the floor. Standing next to this stranger did funny things to my vocal cords.

  “Any time, gorgeous. Couldn’t let you damage that pretty face.”

  “Well, thanks. My face appreciates not getting rug burn.” I stepped back and pointed behind me. No idea at what. “I better go. It was nice to meet you.”

  He held out his hand. “Landon.”

  I shook it, even though all I wanted to do was run away and hide behind the slot machines. He was doing weird things to my body. Things I wasn’t sure were sane. Or healthy. For him, at least. Because nobody wanted someone tackling them to the floor in a crowded casino.

  “Kinsley,” I said, my voice louder than before but still sounding wobbly.

  “Is there a reason why you have a clothes hanger sticking out the back of your dress?”

  I turned my head, trying to see what he was talking about.

  He stepped closer, and I gagged at the smell.

  God, he stinks.

  One hand went to my shoulder, the other behind me. “Here, allow me.”

  He removed the hanger with one tug and handed it to me. His hand lingered on my shoulder, and I was torn between wanting him to touch me and wanting to save my nostril hairs from getting permanently damaged.

  I hated beer with a passion. The smell, the taste, the pee color.

  “Do you have to sneeze?” Landon asked. His voice was rich and deep, and I forgot all about the smell.

  “No, I don’t think so. Why?”

  “You keep crinkling your nose.” He stepped back and studied my face.

  I decided the least I could do was be honest. He did save me, after all. I pointed at his shirt. “It’s just… the smell. I’m not a fan of beer.”r />
  Landon tipped his head down and looked at his soaked shirt.

  “Oh yeah. I dropped my beer when I caught you.”

  What an ungrateful little bitch I was. He saved me, and I was complaining about the smell I caused.

  “I’ll buy you a new one. Beer, I mean. And shirt. What size are you? Medium?” I said, looking at the floor in embarrassment.

  He grinned, showing off an even row of white teeth.

  “Dude, what’s the holdup?” a guy asked as he came over. As soon as he set eyes on me, he smirked. “Got it. Do you want to meet us there?”

  “Yeah, you go ahead.”

  The guy shook his head and left. I surely hoped he wasn’t implying what I thought he was. I was not an easy lay. And there was no way I would go back to Landon’s room. No matter how grateful I was that he caught me.

  Landon held out his hand. “You coming?”

  Guess that was exactly what he thought would happen. But no matter how attracted I was to him, I had no patience for guys who thought they were God’s gift to women.

  So I totally overreacted and yelled at him. “Are you asking me to come back to your room? After having met me five minutes ago? How easy do you think I am?”

  I put my hands on my hips and stood my ground. No matter how gorgeous this guy was, asking someone to come back to your room like that was just wrong. Did he think I would just follow him? What an ass.

  His brows drew together, and his look was one of faint amusement. “I thought we were getting me a new shirt?”

  Of course. The shirt. And here I thought he was trying to pick me up. And why would he? He was so far out of my league he’d never be interested in me. I’d just made an ass out of myself.

  “Yes, I was. Sorry about that. Let’s get you a shirt,” I said, putting on a brave face when all I wanted to do was run.

  “You having a good time so far?” he asked, his hand at my elbow, steering me toward the exit. I was too flustered to stop him from walking us out of the casino.

  I took a deep breath and answered him. “Too early to tell. I only got here a few hours ago.”