A Match Made in Vegas Read Online Crystal Kaswell

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But the knowledge did nothing to soothe my wounded ego or satisfy my raging hormones. I walked away from our relationship with a huge L on my forehead.

Daphne Webb, so unsexy she can't even seduce her long-term boyfriend.

Again.

It wasn't the first time my relationship ended because of bad sex. Or the second. Or third. Or eighth.

Men who put school and work ahead of everything understand why I can't give them a hundred percent. They just, well, put school and work ahead of sex.

Everyone thinks I'm direct and in control, and I am, but only when it counts. Only when I really want to invest in my relationship.

I didn't.

So, instead of forcing a conversation, I went to my happy place.

I told myself, again and again, that I wasn't worth a hard conversation. I didn't deserve a good sex life.

Sure, in my head, I said the opposite.

But my actions spoke volumes.

We can't lie to ourselves. No matter how hard we try.

And now—

This time, with this one particular dramatic life choice, I'm putting myself first, yes. But I'm putting Daphne Webb, future sex researcher, first. Not Daphne Webb, human being with sexual needs.

I open my eyes and let the sights and sounds of the room return to me. The bright light of afternoon. The hum of the fan. The warmth of the sun.

Where am I, on a scale of one to ten?

Physically, I feel good. Satisfied.

Mentally and emotionally, I want him more.

I didn't take the edge off.

I only made myself hornier.

It's not unusual. People who have more sex masturbate more, and vice versa.

But how the fuck am I supposed to deal with this?

I'm about to spend four hours in a car next to Jackson. Then, four days in Las Vegas with him.

With my best friend and my brother too, yes. A little family slash friend trip for our mutual friends' bachelor party.

Four days in Sin City with my crush.

Ugh.

See. Even if Jackson wasn't my best friend's brother, even if I didn't care touching him would make my relationships hopelessly complicated, even if he was some guy I knew, I wouldn't pursue anything—

I won't be here in three weeks.

That's the thing I haven't told anyone.

The dramatic reveal waiting for me.

In three weeks, I start my research residency on the other side of the country.

That means I have three little weeks to enjoy the company of my best friend and my brother before I tell them both I'm leaving. Which means I need to make the most of this trip to Las Vegas.

Bonding. Friendship. Shots at midnight.

Whatever people my age do to connect. I work too much to connect with anyone except Cassie.

Sure, it's not the ideal situation (I'd prefer a week on the beach in La Paz), but, hey, it's what I've got.

So, no, I am not sleeping with Jackson.

I am not touching Jackson.

I am not kissing Jackson.

I'm going to enjoy this trip as if everything is the same. Then I'll tell the truth.

I can't masturbate the crush away, so I need to do one better.

And what better place, really?

Four days in Vegas to find someone to fuck. Strictly for sex. Absolutely no strings. A chance to fill my needs. I owe that to myself.

It's been a while. I need to break my fast with someone worthy. Someone hot enough to clear Jackson from my mind.

There are hundreds of horny singles in Sin City. How hard can it be to find someone more appealing than Jackson Steele?

Chapter Two

Jackson

Do you have ten minutes?

The text from Maddie flashes on my phone. She doesn't add for phone sex, please, but we both know the ask.

This is our routine. Once or twice a week, one of us sends a request. The other calls or reschedules.

Mine are more to the point—do you want to come for me?—but they're no different, really.

We both know better.

This is over.

There's no reason to hold on.

This is too intimate. This is fucked up. This is a bad decision on top of a bad decision.

But that only makes it more appealing.

In every other area of my life, I do the smart thing every single time. For my entire life, I've done the smart thing every time.

As a kid, I did my homework after school. I went to jujitsu practice twice a week. I studied for every test well before the night before.

I carried that through college, law school, the first three years of practice. Responsibilities, first. School, first. Then work, first. Family trumps all of that, of course. If Mom or Dad or Cass, or even Laurel or Zack, need me, I'm there.

That's what a good man does. That's the right way to behave. And now I'm close to everything I want, everything I've been working for—

A partnership at the firm.

The success and recognition I need. Enough security to set up my entire future. Money to pay off the house, finance my wife's dreams, fill a college fund for my kids.

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