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Fuck, she’s getting married.
Chapter 3
Clara
I glare at my sister, well stepsister, Maureen as she attempts to pawn off her soon-to-be-married status on me. Just so she can screw around with a stripper.
A god-like stripper. A very gorgeous god-like stripper. When he came over to our group flexing his muscles as his hips moved in a way I didn’t think was physically possible my whole body tingled from his nearness. I gulped down my whole strawberry daiquiri as he danced in front of us. My head still hurts from the enormous brain freeze I gave myself. But as he moved so sensually on the stage I’ll admit my brain was the only thing frozen. Everything else was molten.
Our eyes meet and I grasp my drink sucking it down. Once again, experiencing a brain freeze. This man is bad for my health, and he’s coming this way.
The tiara Maureen just pulled off her head is dangling from his finger. He stops in front of me and I suck on my straw just to hear the echoes of an empty glass.
I stare at him as he takes the glass from my hand putting it on the table next to me.
He’s so in control as I try to remember to breathe correctly. “Congratulations,” he whispers in my ear as he bends over placing the piece of plastic on my head. “I guess I should make your last official single party a good one,” he says to the room while his attention doesn’t waver.
I swallow hard as he lowers himself to his knees and rubs his hands up my calves, making me whimper.
“I’m not getting married,” I stutter out, my voice nearly unrecognizable.
His face snaps up to mine, his hands still on my legs, burning from just his touch.
“She’s right. I was just kidding, I'm the real bride-to-be,” Maureen says as she plops down next to me pushing me with her shoulder. “Oops, if I would have known what you had planned I wouldn’t have said she was the bride. You make me forget myself.”
My stepsister looks at my Trifecta as if she wants to swallow him whole. The two of them stare at each other, yet his hands are still glued to my leg.
“She’s right. I’m just the sister.”
“Stepsister,” Maureen says, rolling her eyes.
“I heard someone ordered the Trifecta.” Two more men walk into the VIP lounge. The three of them are identical in physical form, but instinctively I can tell they have different personalities just from the way they stand and smile.
Maureen’s friends scream, shutting the door, blocking out the rest of the club. The party has officially started.
“Yes, I’m the bride-to-be.” Maureen rips the tiara off my head taking some of my hair with it.
“Ouch,” I say, rubbing my head very aware I have a Trifecta’s hands still plastered to my legs. It’s also hard to ignore the tingles racing up my leg from just having his hands on me.
“Sorry,” Maureen says to me, climbing up on the couch I’m sitting on. “We should toast.”
“What a great idea.” My Trifecta takes his hands off my legs, standing in one smooth movement. One sexy fluid movement, making my panties pretty fluid too. My skin breaks out in goosebumps from having the heat removed so quickly.
My Trifecta moves over to his brother where they grab a bottle of champagne. “We need the bachelorette over here, please,” The second of the triplets says, shooting Maureen a wink.
My sister saunters over to the triplets, her friends crowding around her. I hear the pop of the cork, but I don’t bother to get up to watch the festivities. I want to go home, get into my comfy jammies, and I know my sister wants me to do the same thing.
It isn’t a secret that her hatred for me runs deep. Mine may run just as deep for her as well, although I think hate is such a nasty word. So, I really really dislike my stepsister.
If it wasn’t for my father begging me to go and play nice with Maureen I’d be doing just what my little heart desires. My father married Maureen’s mom, Tracy two years ago. At first I was excited to have my family extended. It has been just my father and I for far too long. When my mom died my father threw himself into his work, and became one the most successful contractors in Vegas. When the money began to roll in so did the gold diggers. I was excited he found one he didn’t feel was after his money.
He was wrong.
I didn’t like Tracy the moment I met her. I could tell she was a vapid money-hungry whore just like the rest of the women hanging on my dad. But the harder I pushed him to stay away from her the more I pushed him right into her fake-tanned arms. He worked too hard for too long. It was time for him to play with the money he made, or at least that’s what Tracy had him thinking.
