Vegas With Dad's Best Friend: A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance Read online

  CONTENTS

  Vegas with Dad's Best Friend

  NEWSLETTER

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Epilogue

  Extended Epilogue

  NEWSLETTER

  A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS

  BRATVA BEAR SHIFTERS

  LAIRDS & LADIES

  RUSSIAN UNDERWORLD

  IRISH WOLF SHIFTERS

  Collaborations

  About the Author

  VEGAS WITH DAD'S BEST FRIEND

  AN OLDER MAN YOUNGER WOMAN ROMANCE

  _______________________

  A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS, 242

  FLORA FERRARI

  Copyright © 2021 by Flora Ferrari

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The following story contains mature themes, strong language and sexual situations. It is intended for mature readers.

  VEGAS WITH DAD'S BEST FRIEND

  Savannah

  I came to Vegas to get away, to be independent. I came here to prove to myself that I'm an adult, able to handle any situation that life throws at me.

  My first day doesn’t go as planned. And of all the people I thought I would meet in Las Vegas, he was the last on my list.

  I knew he came out here all of those years ago. I still have a crush on him. And now that I’m seeing him in the flesh again, I think it might reasonably be described as something more than a crush.

  But could he see me as something more than a kid with the twenty year age difference between us?

  There’s just one thought I can’t get out of my mind. It’s not just gambling or alcohol I’ve recently become old enough for since we last met.

  I’m also legally old enough for…

  For Jonas. My dad’s best friend.

  Should I stay or should I go and possibly miss out on the chance of a lifetime?

  Jonas

  “So, how long are you here for?” I ask but what I really mean is, how long do I have to get over the fact that the beautiful woman before me is my best friend’s daughter and make a move?

  I’m going to make a move. I can feel it. I want her to be mine, the way I haven’t wanted anything in a very long time.

  But the next thing I know I’ve let her slip through my fingers.

  Still, one way or another, I'm going to find her again. It's something I know as surely as I know my own name. Whatever hold she has over me, it's not going to let her escape anytime soon.

  I’m going to make her mine before the week is out. I’m not going to let this opportunity pass.

  I love Savannah, and I know she’s the one for me. The only one I want.

  *Vegas with Dad's Best Friend is an insta-everything standalone instalove romance with a HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.

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  CHAPTER ONE

  Jonas

  I walk down the Las Vegas Strip, dodging tourists in cheap and brightly colored clothes with cameras slung around their necks. The homeless and the professional beggars, the wasters trying to sell copies of their latest demo, and all the rest of the life that happens here in Vegas.

  It’s a hectic old town, but it’s my town. I slide through the crowds easily, knowing the quickest routes, knowing which lobbies are best to slip through as a shortcut and which ones should be avoided at all costs. I sidestep scammers and pickpockets, making my way down the strip towards the next casino I need to visit.

  “Afterparty tonight?” One man says, trying to step into my path and offer me a leaflet promising free entry. “Ladies’ night, girls get two drinks for the price of one. Bring a friend.”

  I dodge past him seamlessly, fighting the urge to roll my eyes simply because the motion might slow me down. I’m dressed in an expensive suit and carrying a briefcase – does he really think I’m the kind of person who would be interested in some cheap club tonight?

  Besides – he can’t have been working the Strip for long if he doesn’t know I’m a local.

  Up ahead, I catch sight of something through the parting stream of people. A glimpse of white. It’s a young woman in a white dress, her back to me. Something about her head looks familiar, even though that sounds crazy. Who would I know well enough to think I recognized them just from that – and not be able to figure out who they are?

  As I get close, I can’t help but take her in. The patterned white sundress is fitted to her figure, making a shape that is definitely easy on the eye. I find my gaze traveling down to her ass, taking in her perfect globes before someone steps between us, and the spell is momentarily broken.

  Not that it doesn’t come back the second I can see her again. Now she’s half-turned, her long blonde hair falling over her shoulder, allowing me a glimpse of her face. Blue eyes, big kissable lips, a dainty nose – why does she feel so familiar?

  I don’t know what it is about her, but something about the way she looks sends a jolt of desire right down to the base of my cock. I don’t normally feel this – definitely not so strong that I end up stumbling, slowing down, watching her. Women buzz around me all day and every day. Vegas isn’t exactly a place for the shy and retiring. But none of them make me feel like this.

  None of them have me stopping just down the street so I can get a longer look. Especially not on the way to a meeting.

  I can’t tear my eyes away. In profile, I can also see her chest, her breasts pushing at the seams of her dress. I want to get my hands on those and I want it now. She has that classic hourglass figure, big chest, and round childbearing hips, and I can’t help allowing one momentary flash in my head of what she would look like bent over in front of me.

  I don’t even know who this girl is, and I already want to make her mine. Who is she, that she can put me under this kind of spell before we even speak?

  But a movement up ahead drags my attention away from her. I suddenly realize there are a few other men watching her, not just me. The three are like matching pieces from a set, slightly grubby, wearing grimy tracksuits and gold chains, hair cropped short. One of them is clutching a bunch of CDs in his hand, walking towards her with a predatory look in h
is eyes.

  Oh, hell no. I’m not about to watch her become a victim.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Savannah

  I turn in all directions, trying to figure out where the heck I am and where I’m going. I thought it would be easy to navigate Vegas since everything is basically in one straight line, but it’s more complicated than it looks down on the ground. There are bridges and distracting novelty buildings and people all over the place, and roadworks blocking off parts of the sidewalk, and I can’t figure out where I’m supposed to go.

  I think I was supposed to be there already, but I don’t see anything familiar. I’ve gotten so turned around. How did this happen?

  “Hey, you lost?”

  I look up to see a young man, maybe only a few years older than me, walking over. He’s dressed in a red hoodie, open over a plain white tee and a gold chain, and matching red sweatpants. He doesn’t look like the kind of person who I would go to for help back home – but then again, he did offer…

  “Yeah, kinda,” I say, giving him an embarrassed smile. My Southern twang immediately comes through strong, no doubt giving away that I’m not from around here. “I was just looking for my hotel.”

  “We can help you get there,” he says, glancing to my left and behind me. I turn my head a little and realize there are three of them, all wearing similar clothes, surrounding me. Somehow, I feel like I can trust them even less.

  “Oh, um,” I say. “I just need directions, really. Thanks.”

  “We can do that,” he says. He sidles close to me and holds out his hand. I see that he’s holding a bunch of what looks like homemade CDs with low-quality artwork printed for the cover. “For a price.”

  “Oh, you’re selling music?” I ask, not wanting to be impolite. I really didn’t bring a lot of money with me – my food is included in the room bill, and I’m not much of a gambler. Even though I’m twenty-one now, I don’t really do a lot of things that other people my age might be interested in trying. I don’t drink, and I don’t do drugs, and I don’t want to get myself into any kind of trouble. I just came here to get away for a bit and see one of the most famous places in the world.

  “It’s my debut album. You’ll love it,” he says. He pushes one into my hand, even though I’m trying to resist. “Just ten dollars for you, sister.”

  “I don’t really want it,” I tell him, trying to push it back. “I’m sorry, it’s just I don’t…”

  “You already took it,” he says, pointing down at my hand and refusing to allow me to push the CD back into his own. “You owe me ten dollars now.”

  “What?” I try to give him the CD back, feeling like it’s burning my fingers. “No, I didn’t take it – you gave it to me. Really, I don’t want it.”

  “Well, you’ll have to buy something else to make up for wasting his time, then,” one of the others says. I try to step away from them, but we’re in an awkward spot. People are flowing by on the sidewalk behind them, but the only way that they haven’t blocked off is down an alleyway at my back. It’s a dead end. It doesn’t look like an escape.

  What am I going to do?

  “I don’t want anything, really,” I say, trying to plead with them.

  “How about something to help you loosen up?” one of them says. Quick as a flash, he’s produced a small bag of something – something green and moss-like.

  Oh.

  “I don’t do drugs,” I tell him. “I mean it – really. I… I don’t even drink or smoke cigarettes.”

  “Pills, then?” one of them says. The baggie has disappeared, and in its place is another filled with white pills. I have no idea what they are.

  “Please, I don’t want to get into trouble,” I say.

  “Well, fine,” the first one says. “Just give me my money, and there’s no trouble. Come on.”

  I’m too frightened to think. I don’t know if I should take my money out – what if they just take it all? Right now, my purse is secure on my shoulder, but if I bring it down to root through it…

  “That’s enough.” A firm, strong voice, calls out from behind them, and even though I can’t see who said it, the men all turn. “Step away from the young lady and run along – before we have to get the police involved.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Jonas

  I’m not going to just stand by and watch this happen.

  “That’s enough,” I say, making all three of the youths turn and look at me. It’s almost comical, the way their heads swing. “Step away from the young lady and run along – before we have to get the police involved.”

  “What are you going to do about it, grandpa?” one of them scoffs, making a rude gesture in my direction.

  “Grandpa?” I repeat, with a raised eyebrow. “How about for starters, I show you that I’m not as old as you seem to think?”

  It’s a hot day, as it always is in Vegas, so I’m wearing a light jacket which is easy to discard. I shrug it off my shoulders and lay it over the top of my briefcase in one hand, using the other to start folding up my shirt sleeves to the elbow.

  It’s a studied and practiced move. Underneath the jacket, my shirt is tight enough to show the contours of my biceps and chest, which means they can see how large the muscles are in both places. As I roll up my sleeve, they can see how thick my forearms are, a small taste of what is to come.

  The three of them are scrawny, drug addicts with no flesh on their bones. They glance between themselves and then back at me, assessing the risk.

  Without a word further, the ringleader snatches his CD back out of the young woman’s hand and they take off, disappearing into the crowd the way only a local can.

  It’s over – and she’s safe.

  Which is good, because now I realized why she looks so familiar.

  “Savannah?” I say. “It is you, isn’t it?”

  She blinks up at me, her eyes struggling to focus. She looks like she’s in shock. “Wait,” she says. “J… Jonas?”

  I smile. I knew it was her. I just didn’t recognize her at first because of how long it’s been.

  It must be at least six or seven years. She was… what? Fifteen? The last time I saw her. That was when I moved out here full-time, after a long period of trying to manage my business investments from Texas. Once it became clear that Vegas was the place to make money, I made the commitment.

  But not without leaving a whole life behind.

  “What are you doing out here?” I ask. “I haven’t heard from your Dad recently. You should have let me know you were coming.” Her dad was once my best friend. We used to live down the street from each other. It feels like another life ago now, so different from life here in the city of sin.

  “I, um,” Savannah says.

  Looking closer, past how familiar she is and yet how different, past how much she’s grown up – and how my body responds to hers, which I shouldn’t really be thinking about now that I know who she is – I realize that she’s shaking. Her gaze is still unfocused, and she’s staring off down the street in the direction those punks went, as if afraid they’ll come back for her.

  “Savannah,” I say softly, calling her attention back to me. Her big, blue eyes swing to mine, as bright as a sunny sky and yet unsettlingly blank. She’s in shock, I was right about that. Serious shock. “You need to sit down and have something to drink. Will you come with me?”

  She nods uncertainly but doesn’t move at all. It looks like I need to take matters into my own hands.

  I take her shoulders in my hands, pulling her towards me. She doesn’t resist, which is good, and she doesn’t appear to be frightened at the contact. I pull her close to my side and turn, slipping one arm across her shoulders so that I can keep hold of her. I walk her down the street, keeping her shielded against the side of the building so the majority of people are away from her, dodging the other con artists still plying their trade.

  Luckily, I know the stripe well enough to know that there is a quiet sandwich bar and café inside o
ne of the nearby casinos, tucked away between a couple of more popular restaurants and never quite as busy. I shepherd Savannah inside, trying to focus on getting her safe and helping her to calm down – and not on how her warm skin feels under my hand and against my side.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Savannah

  I find myself sitting in a quiet café, staring at the top of a table. My hands are laying on it, and I’m not quite sure how I got here.

  But I do know one thing is that it was Jonas who brought me.

  I could barely register it was him when he stepped into my sight and rescued me. I had the feeling that it was all a dream. Why shouldn’t my dad’s old best friend, who happened to be the man I’d had a crush on for pretty much all of my teenage years, be there too?

  But now I’m starting to come back to myself. I realize that none of that was a dream – no matter how much like a nightmare it might have felt. I was trapped with those three men, and no one else stepped forward to help me or stop me from getting robbed – or worse.

  No one but Jonas.

  Of all the people I thought I would meet in Las Vegas, he was the last on my list. I knew he came out here all of those years ago, of course, but dad hadn’t really mentioned anything about him since. I hadn’t even known that he was still out here. Since going to college, I guess I’d kind of forgotten about Jonas and my silly infatuation with him.

  He was always my dad’s hot older friend. And sitting opposite him now, I see that hasn’t changed.

  “Are you feeling a little better?” he asks, reaching for my hand across the table. It sends a spark of lightning through me when we touch. The more I come back out of whatever it was that just happened, the more I realize just how hot he still is.

  “I’m fine, I think,” I say, nodding. I feel a little embarrassed. Why did I have to have such an episode in front of him? He’s sitting there in a black suit and tie, looking expensive and handsome, his tailored clothes fitting well over his still fit and healthy body. Even though he looks a little older than I remember, he doesn’t look old. Not like my dad. He has laugh lines and tanned skin and a haircut that actually, well, looks like a haircut.