Chapter Two

Nat chair danced and tossed condom packages to Alexa.

With an eye roll, Alexa stuffed one in the small purse attached to a gold chain circling the waist of her purple minidress. “Fine. I took one. Now will you leave me alone?”

“I’ll think about it.” The gleam in Nat’s eyes was all smart-ass. “Everyone’s raving about the cake on the buffet. Maybe that’s what’s holding up Cori. It shouldn’t take this long to find champagne. I’m going after her. You coming?”

A remix of a familiar group dance song blasted through the speakers.

The rhythmic beat prompted Alexa out of her seat. “Nope, but bring me something back.”

Alexa joined the crowd forming up in lines on the floor. She mimicked the other dancers and stepped to the left then back. Nat needed to stop obsessing over getting her laid. It wasn’t that she hadn’t tried to move on, but the two disastrous encounters she’d had since the failed wedding were enough.

The first, a blind date with the son of a woman her mother went to yoga with, had been as much fun as watching paint dry. The up-and-coming bank executive had been obsessed with driving her around in his new Tesla and bragging about his power to hire and fire employees. The cute guy she ran into at the gym every morning seemed like a better choice. Nice smile. Deep, sexy voice. Bonus points: he didn’t talk about his job nonstop, had his own apartment, and smelled good even after a workout. Then she’d kissed him. Nothing. Nada. Not even a spark.

As Alexa danced, she put a little more sass into her hips. Soon her fantasies with her battery-operated boyfriend wouldn’t be enough to cut it. She needed the real deal—a hot, toe-curling orgasm. Too bad a man was required for that type of satisfaction. She stepped on a flyer advertising the Hot Body Hunks. An image of Raphael the Dream Maker, dancing shirtless, appeared in her mind, a stellar pack of abs emerging as easily as his sexy grin. Her most naughty vibrator fantasies often included him. Who was she kidding? They always included him. Exploring his smokin’ body, for real, would knock the lust dust from her vagina.

The DJ spoke over the music. “All right ladies, I’ve got prizes. The first one is for a spa day package.”

That sounded wonderful. Alexa dug a red ticket stub from her purse.

The number called didn’t match it.

Maybe Nat or Cori had gotten lucky. She wove through the crowd on the dance floor and scooted past chairs. An empty table greeted her. Where were they? Were they checking their tickets? She sat down and sent a text to Nat and Cori about the drawing.

The answers Busy and OK buzzed in simultaneously.

Another number was announced for an all-expense paid weekend at a resort in Virginia Beach.

No one jumped up. Another ticket was drawn, and a jubilant winner claimed the trip.

Seriously? Nat or Cori probably hadn’t even checked their tickets. They might have even won. If they weren’t interested, she, at least, could have used a vacation on the beach before heading to Seattle.

“Ladies. It’s the moment you’ve been waiting for.”

Excited shouts erupted.

“Come on. You can do better than that. Let the guys know you’re out there. Raise it up for the Hot Body Hunks.”

A driving bass guitar riff reverberated through her chair.

The room lights dimmed, and the curtain rose.

A column of violet light backlit the semi-clear screen on the stage. The partially shadowed figures of four Hunks dressed in suits, heads bowed, wearing fedoras appeared.

Heavy percussion combined with the bass, and the performers synchronized the staccato movements of their heads, torsos, and hips.

The audience clapped to the beat.

The partition lifted, and the lights grew brighter, illuminating the Hunks in gray suits, snowy white shirts, and black neckties.

The track morphed into an up-tempo pop song, and the guys tossed their dark fedoras. As the men strutted forward, they slipped off their jackets and flung them aside. Sleeveless button-downs showcased their muscular arms. A few sexy dance moves later, they stripped off the ties.

Swept up in the excitement, Alexa stood and shouted.

The performers answered the women’s cheers by dropping to the floor. As the men rose and lowered themselves to inches above the ground, they undulated their hips.

They were like selections on the perfect tasting menu. Blond haired, lean and muscular. Ginger haired with an engaging smile. Another of the entertainers had dark hair that was buzzed low, and he sported intriguing tribal arm tats. The last one had a shaved head and was built like a Greek god.

Alexa fanned herself. Nat and Cori had no idea what they were missing. Where were they?

The guys jumped up and ripped open their shirts, revealing white tank tops. They slipped off the button-downs, and as they gyrated their hips, they lifted their shirts, providing teasing glimpses of their chests and abs.

She joined the groans of disappointment in the entertainers not showing more skin.

The men flashed knowing smiles. They hopped off the stage and gave a few lucky women brief lap dances.

Images drifted in, taking Alexa back to her bachelorette party. She’d hopped on Raphael’s lap more than once during the game and had taken advantage of every opportunity to touch and caress his sculpted chest and abs.

One by one, the Hunks returned to the stage.

Another performer, dressed like the four, joined them.

Raphael. Alexa’s heart sped up. He’d cut his hair, but he was still hot as hell with a close fade.

All the guys executed the choreographed steps, but his moves were delivered with a confidence that riveted attention.

A woman behind Alexa shrieked. “That’s him. That’s the one I was telling you about. The Dream Maker.”

Alexa couldn’t take her eyes off him. If the theory that the way a man worked his assets on stage indicated how he’d perform under the sheets was true, Raphael’s moves translated into screaming, throat-raw ecstasy.

The men crossed their arms over their chests and froze, ending on cue with the music.

Raphael strolled forward. His bicep bulged as he adjusted his headset. He stopped near the edge of the stage and scanned the audience. His confident, all-male grin elicited screams. “One sorry bastard failed to satisfy you, but the Hot Body Hunks are here to please. Are you ready for that?”

The women’s shouts of “yes” filled the room.

He shook his head. “I don’t know. I think you need a little incentive. Are. You. Ready?”

As he articulated the question, the Hunks behind him tore off their tank tops to even louder cheers.

“Take it off! Take it off!”

The chant was directed at Raphael, but he feigned confusion. The chanting grew rowdier, and he pointed to himself.

Screams reverberated.

He tore his shirt off, revealing his ripped torso, and pandemonium erupted.

Moisture dried up in Alexa’s mouth. Damn! His abs were meant to be worshiped, stroked, kissed, filled with chocolate, and licked clean.

His gaze drifted her direction.

Did he recognize her? Heated tingles engulfed Alexa, and her heart rate doubled.

He focused back on the audience. “Enjoy the show.”