Free The Vegas Virgin by Lissa Trevor

 

     
The Vegas Virgin © 2015 by Lissa Trevor
    A Cowboys4Angels Tale
     
    All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, without permission in writing from the publisher.
     
    This is a work of fiction, names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination, or are used in a fictitious manner.
     
    Permission to use image of Tommy granted by Cowboys4Angels
    Cowboys4Angels is a registered trademark
     
    For more information contact:
    Riverdale Avenue Books
    5676 Riverdale Avenue
    Riverdale, NY 10471.
     
    www.riverdaleavebooks.com
     
    Cover by Insatiable Fantasy Designs Inc.
     
    Digital ISBN 9781626011854
    First Edition May 2015
     
     

     
     
The Vegas Virgin
     
    “Happy Birthday to me,” Dora Franklin toasted herself with a glass of champagne on the balcony of the Aria and gazed out at the bright lights of the Las Vegas strip. She tried to muster up any feeling other than boredom and came up blank. She had just turned 38 today. Only two more years to the big 4-0.
    “It’s just a number,” she told the sultry night air.
    But it was a number that she had thought she would reach with certain life experiences. Her lips twisted in wry amusement. Backpack across Europe? Check. Hike the Grand Canyon? Check. Skydive out of an airplane? Check. Not that she’d ever do that again. Dora shuddered, remembering the utter loss of control on her way down. She had barely managed to get her shaking fingers to pull the parachute cord. It was supposed to have gotten better then. But instead of free falling, she was free floating. Dora shook her head. She didn’t like to be at the whim of fate and the winds.
    Leaning over the balcony, she let the Nevada air wash over her. She liked being up this high with her feet firmly on the ground. That was the story of her life, actually—feet firmly on the ground.
    After she had graduated high school as valedictorian, she had powered through college with a B.S. in poli sci. Then got her J.D. at Harvard. It had helped that her grandparents invested wisely in the stock market and passed their portfolios on to her. But Dora hadn’t sat back on her degrees and her money. She worked damned hard to become one of the finest—and most expensive divorce attorneys in the United States. Dora had celebrity clients and her name alone was usually enough for an out of court settlement.
    But that didn’t leave a lot of time for dating. And when it did, Dora was always disappointed. Either the guy was too dull, too vain, too stupid, or just too inept. No one was ever good enough for Dora. She drained her champagne flute and went back to the bottle of 1990 Methuselah for another glass. If she was being honest, she’d admit that the problem was probably more her than anyone else. Somewhere along these years, she had gotten picky and set in her ways. And as she got older, her shit meter was full. She didn’t have the time nor the patience for online dating or the bar scene. So she was staring down a mid-life crisis with the dubious title of world’s oldest virgin, unless dire measures were taken.
    The knock on her door jarred her and she splashed some of the $1800 champagne on her wrist.
    “Shit,” she said, licking the liquid off her arm.
    That would be her dire measures.
    Eyeballing herself in the mirror as she passed, she smoothed down the Stella McCartney silk dress. She tangled fingers through her hair and blew out a sigh.
    “Now or never,” she told her reflection.
    On the other side of the door stood Tommy, exactly as he appeared on the Cowboys4Angels website. Immediately, his chiseled jaw, raw sexuality and rippling muscles caught her attention. Tommy was dressed in a charcoal suit that molded to his muscled body. Five o’clock shadow dusted his cheeks and strong jaw. When he smiled, Dora’s throat went dry.
    It’s just a