The Rivals Read Online Free Books by Vi Keeland

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic, Funny, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
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I sighed. This new bond made me a little nuts, which they clearly enjoyed. “When is this happening? Going clubbing, I mean.”

“Tonight.” Weston stood. “I’ll make sure both your names are added to the VIP list and let them know you’ll be there about ten. How does that sound?”

“That sounds fabulous,” Scarlett said.

“All right, then. I need to get upstairs to the conference room.” Weston buttoned his suit jacket and gave a slight bow in Scarlett’s direction. “Thank you for your company, Scarlett. It was enlightening.”

Weston grinned at me. “Have a great day, Sophia.”

I plopped down into Weston’s chair and scowled at my friend. “Enlightening? What were you two talking about?”

Scarlett waved her hand in the air. “A little of this and a little of that. He’s lovely.”

“Please don’t try to matchmake. What Weston and I have—occasional, meaningless sex—is perfect the way it is.”

“I agree.” Her tone was totally patronizing.

“Scarlett…” I sighed. “Even if you’re right and he’s a great guy under all the layers of cocky arrogance, I just came out of a relationship. I’m not looking for another one. Especially not one where the new guy has baggage and our families hate each other. It’s too complicated. Sometimes things are better kept simple.”

She smiled wider. “Okay.”

I squinted at her and stuck out my tongue.

“Very mature,” she gloated.

“I actually need to get upstairs to the conference room where my team is working, too,” I told her. “What time is your fashion show?”

“Eleven. I’m going to head over to Bergdorf’s first, as soon as I finish this second cup of coffee. But I should be back tonight by about seven.”

I stood and leaned down to kiss my friend’s cheek. “You drive me nuts, but I’m so glad you’re here.”

***

That night, I realized it had been a long time since I went to a club. I put on a pair of jeans, a cute navy blouse, and a pair of wedges I knew I’d be able to dance in. Scarlett knocked on my hotel room door at nine forty-five.

“I thought we were meeting downstairs in the lobby at ten?”

She looked me up and down and walked in with her arms full. “We were. But then I realized you’d be dressed like that without my help.”

I looked down at my outfit. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

Scarlett sighed. “You screwed a man in the laundry room yesterday. You’re not boring, yet you insist on dressing like you are.”

“This is an expensive shirt. And I’m wearing tight jeans and heels.”

She ignored me and held up a sparkly, flimsy silver blouse that draped into a V-neck in one hand and a pair of sparkly, strappy silver heels in the other.

“I like this one best,” she said. “But this one…” She tossed the silver garments on the bed and held up a bright green halter-top in one hand and a pair of sky-high black shoes I’d never be able to walk in in the other. “This one would look fabulous with your hair.”

I knew better than to argue with Scarlett when she didn’t approve of my outfit. Plus, I couldn’t deny that both of her choices were more exciting than what I had on.

“Fine.” I picked up the silver items from the bed, acting like it was a sacrifice.

But when I looked in the mirror after I’d changed, I realized my friend was totally right. The other outfit was nice, but this one was fun night out clubbing. And if I were being honest, it was kind of exciting to be dressed a little sexier.

I turned for Scarlett’s approval.

She shrugged. “I’d fuck you, if you had a dick.”

I laughed and looped my arm through hers as we headed toward the door of my suite. “You know, I thought I missed you. But actually, I think I missed your closet.”

***

Weston had done more than get us skip-the-line entry. We had a roped-off table in the upstairs VIP area with a bucket of champagne waiting when we arrived. The waitress told us she was our personal attendant for the evening, and a VIP host handed us keys to a special VIP ladies’ room that was always empty.

Scarlett and I took full advantage. We sipped champagne while scoping out the bodies swaying to a live DJ on the dance floor below and getting the feel for the place. Then we hit the dance floor like it was nobody’s business. One song led to the next, bodies pressed close all around us, and my heart seemed to beat in rhythm to the thump of the bass. After an hour, the back of my neck was slick with sweat, and my hair had pasted itself against it.

Throughout the night, various men tried to dance with us, but we were enjoying our time together and not interested in meeting anyone. Most took the hint. Though, at one point, a very good-looking guy walked over to Scarlett during a song transition and said something I couldn’t hear. Whatever it was made her laugh, and he started to dance with us. Unlike some men, who think a woman smiling on the dance floor means they have a license to dry hump you, the guy kept a gentlemanly distance, and we formed a small circle together, even though he clearly had eyes for Scarlett.


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