My Unexpected Family by Harlow James
Chapter 1
Chloe
Rumor has it that when a man sees a woman he finds attractive for the first time, he experiences some form of the ‘dick twitch’, a momentary spasm in his goods that signals to his brain that there is an attractive woman in the vicinity and his dick wants to get up close and personal with the sweet heaven between her legs.
However, once his brain kicks in, he realizes the chances of actually penetrating her with his dick are pretty slim. There are so many variables that play into his success rate—the approach, the charm, if he’s willing to gamble his hard earned money on buying her a few drinks as an investment, his flirt vs. douchebag ratio—and even still, he could put out all the right moves, think he’s sealed the deal, and she can still say no.
And that is because women hold all the power.
That’s right. I said it.
It’s the power of the vagina, and I’m one that doesn’t waste it on just anyone.
I’m not a slut by any means, but I am a woman that when I see a man worth my time and the glorious, sweet spot at the apex of my thighs, I use that power to my advantage. I make sure that whoever I decide to sleep with is someone my vagina agrees with too, that I experience what I call, the ‘lit clit’.
Yes, you read that right.
The ‘lit clit’ as I so eloquently call it is a woman’s equivalent of a dick twitch—that moment when you see a man so mouthwateringly fine that your clit lights up and alerts you to his presence. A wave of adrenaline radiates from your chest and travels down your limbs, waking up your body in more ways than one, and then you know the mission is on. Time to fluff your hair, adjust your cleavage, and stake your claim while exercising your most basic right as a woman—the right to sleep with any man you want because that is your choice and yours alone.
And tonight, my clit is flashing red.
It’s a Thursday night in Las Vegas, Nevada, and I’m seated at a booth in Al Forno, the Italian restaurant located inside the Morgan Hotel owned by Wes Morgan, who just happens to be the boyfriend of my best friend, Shayla. The details of their story can be sorted out another time, but the important thing to note here is that an impromptu trip to Las Vegas this weekend had excitement rushing through me because just a few days ago I was having one of those epiphany moments—the ones where you contemplate your life and what you’re doing with it.
I was missing the thrill, the rush of adrenaline when something new happens and makes you feel alive again. I needed to get away from the mundane, the daily routine of walking dogs for my clients back in Santa Barbara, California, and the sad reality that my other gig working at a local art gallery will soon be coming to an end because of budget cuts. So when Wes called up Shayla a few days ago and asked her to accompany him on a trip to Vegas, you know damn well that I demanded I go with. In all honesty, Shayla wouldn’t have gone without me anyway because she’s my best friend on the face of the planet, the only family I’ve really got, and the tantrum I would have thrown being left behind would rival that of a two-year-old.
After a short flight on Wes’s private plane, we arrived and checked into our rooms before meeting down here for dinner. The rest of the night is dedicated to visiting a few night clubs that Wes’s best friend, Hayes, owns and plenty of alcohol to go around.
“What wine are you getting Chloe?” Shayla asks from across the booth after Wes whispers something in her ear. That man is so far gone for her it’s ridiculous, and damn, does Shayla deserve it. But if I know my best friend as well as I do, I know it will only be a matter of time before she tries to push him away again.
“Well, I’m not much of a wine buff, you know that. Something light to start off with, I suppose.” My eyes scour the leather bound wine menu in my hands just as goosebumps scatter down my arms when a man speaks.
“Well, if you’re going to go that route, I recommend the Fruliano.”
The deep timbre of the voice has my head launching up to find the owner. And when I do, the lit clit activates.
Beacons of light are illuminating between my legs so brightly that even my best friend and her boyfriend could probably see them as I watch one of the most handsome men I’ve ever seen in my life lean against a pillar next to the table we’re currently sitting at.
Hot mother-effing damn.
“Silas!” Hayes shouts, standing up and pulling the man my body deems worthy in for a hug. Wes nudges his sister, Waverly, out of their side of the booth so he can stand and greet the man as well. By the way these boys are showing affection toward one another, I’m guessing Silas is someone we know.
Another check mark in the lit clit column for me then.
“Damn, Wes. You look old.”
“I tried to tell him that he’s going to have a heart attack if he doesn’t stop working so hard,” Shayla chimes in.
“Oh, calling you out? I like her already.” He reaches over the table and holds his hand out to Shayla’s. “Silas De Luca. Nice to meet you.”
God, even his name is hot. And now my clit is burning brighter than the sun.
“Shayla Mitchel,” she replies with a smile.
“Silas, this is my girlfriend, Shayla,” Wes announces proudly.
“Girlfriend, huh?” Silas’s face shows his surprise. “Seems a lot has changed in the past few months.”
“That it has. But it seems business is good.” Wes surveys the busy restaurant around us. The décor of red and gold with mahogany wood only adds to the Italian aura.
“That it is, brother,” Silas says. “Vegas has always been one of the most prosperous locations, naturally.” His confidence oozes from his pores, and it’s at that moment that I realize I’ve been staring at this man for the past five minutes with my mouth hanging open.
After I clear my throat and tamp down my racing heartbeat, I realize the time to recover from my blatant and slightly embarrassing appreciation for the man standing in front of me is now.
“Sorry to interrupt, but I need to know more about this wine, please.” I make sure my intentions are known as I watch Silas’s eyes find mine and the color of them has me fighting the urge to suck in a breath, especially when the mischievous glint they fire back at me has me clenching my thighs together under the booth. Pools of dark chocolate stare down at me framed by thick lashes and matching stubble along a square jaw—the type of jaw that has you daydreaming about licking it with the tip of your tongue.
Hayes stands back from the booth as his phone rings and Silas takes the open seat next to me, his massive body now so close I can feel the heat coming off of him and my nose picks up on the faint scent of his cologne. His lips are full and a rose color that compliments the olive tone of his skin, and his dark hair neatly trimmed on the sides and combed back on top gives him a put-together business look that screams he’s the boss. And dear lord, do I want him to boss me around with the way he’s looking at me right now, perhaps with some silk bondage or a blindfold.
Game on. I found the one I want tonight.
“Well, a Fruliano is an Italian white wine that boasts flavors of jasmine, orange zest, figs, and green apples.” Just his description alone has my mouth watering.
“Sounds delicious.” I keep eye contact with him as I lick my lips, but the move has his eyes moving down to watch my tongue slide across my bottom lip before I drag my teeth across the flesh as well. And then his Adam’s apple is bobbing as he swallows before continuing.
“But it’s the silky texture that will have you reaching for more. It goes down so smooth, leaving delicate flavors and scents on your palate before following with a slightly bitter almond aftertaste.”
I bet this man would feel smooth moving in and out of me too.
Needing to keep this intensity between us building, I reach up and smooth the lapel of his dark grey suit jacket, and the hard body I feel underneath has me taking a deep breath. “Well, I think you should join us for a glass then.” I flash him a teasing smile and then his lips part as well, revealing beautiful white teeth and a smile that would make me take off my panties under the table and hand them to him on the spot.
But he chuckles as he glances down at his watch. “I’d love to, but duty calls. I’m here to check on the restaurant and then I have to meet with my managers in about an hour.”
I lick my lips again since that caught his attention before, just suggestively and alluringly enough, an artform I’ve perfected over the past few years. “We’re going to Omnia at Caesar’s after this. Maybe you can stop by?”
Silas slides out of the booth as Hayes and Waverly share a sexually charged interaction masquerading as hate. I’d bet good money those two are boning by the end of the night.
“I’ll let you know if I can stop by,” Silas replies while straightening his jacket and securing the top button. With one more glance in my direction accompanied by a lift of his brow, he says farewell to the group and then spins on his heel and strides away from us, allowing me to appreciate his backside this time, making my mouth water even more.
As soon as he’s far enough away, I start fanning myself with the menu. “Holy fuck! That man was hot. Who the hell was that?”
“Our buddy Silas. We’ve known him since high school. He owns this restaurant and about one hundred others across the globe. We actually have several Al Forno’s in Morgan Hotels,” Wes states proudly as my eyes widen.
“Are you kidding me?”
“Nope,” Hayes interjects this time. The waiter comes by and asks for our drink order before scurrying away once more. “Silas is the best, but you might be too much for him, Chloe.”
I scoff at him. “Me? Too much?”
He takes a sip of his water while dropping his eyes up and down my torso. “Yeah. I know when I can sense a personality like mine in its female counterpart, and I hate to break it to you girl, but people like you and me can be too much for some people.”
“As if I’ve never heard that before.” I roll my eyes before taking a sip of my water, irritated and feeling the buzz between my legs slowly subside as this conversation progresses.
“Chloe, he said he might meet up with us later at the club. Maybe you can talk to him a bit when he gets there,” Shayla declares encouragingly from her seat.
“I don’t want to talk, Shayla. I need some dick. I’m in Vegas, I’m going to get plastered, and getting fucked two ways to Sunday would be the cherry on top of this trip.” The waiter comes by to drop off our drinks at that very moment and apparently my words were a little too honest for his little virgin ears.
“Sorry Chloe, but Silas isn’t that type of guy,” Wes chimes in.
“You know you’re only posing more of a challenge when you say that, Wes.”
“The woman has a point,” Hayes agrees.
“Will everyone stop talking for two seconds so we can order some damn food, please!” Waverly shouts, effectively shutting the rest of us up. “I’m about two seconds from eating my own arm and there is not enough alcohol to make this evening look up.” She reaches for her mojito and drains the glass without ever removing her lips from her straw.
Seems talk of sex around someone who obviously needs the annoyance banged out of her has Waverly teetering on the edge.
“We’d better feed Beaverly before she starts gnawing on the table.” Hayes smirks at Waverly, fueling the fire and smoke coming out of her ears.
Wes places his hand on his sister’s arm. “I’m sorry, Wave. You’re right. I think everyone can agree that we’re hungry, correct?” I nod as Wes encourages us to agree.
My eyes drift down to the menu once more to read the words, but I’m not processing them. I’m irritated. Who are they to say what Silas wants or doesn’t? I saw that gleam in his eyes. I saw the way he looked at me. And I know how much my body and mind wanted to ride him wildly tonight. And generally speaking, if I see something or someone I want, I get it.
“I don’t see a hunky Italian man on the menu anywhere here, Wes. I may not find anything to appease my appetite at this point.”
The table breaks out in laughter, but I’m serious, and that declaration became even more true later that evening in the club. Silas never showed up and even though I was determined to find someone else to focus my sexual energy on, no one made my clit light up like he did.
Silas De Luca broke my clit.
* * *Two nights later after having no success finding a man to satisfy my sexual appetite, Hayes suggested we go to a different club for our last night in Sin City. The thrill of Las Vegas nightlife helps ease the disappointment simmering low in my belly since the night I met Silas, but I’m still having trouble deleting images and feelings from my mind regarding him.
With a cocktail in my hand, I survey the crowd around me, waiting for the Bat Signal to illuminate between my legs as I watch men stride past our booth, some more blatantly lingering in my direction than others.
Nope, too short.
Ugh. That’s a brown paper bag situation right there.
Attractive, but no.
He looks nice, but nice isn’t getting my engines revving.
Suddenly the booth beneath me jolts, sending me lifting off the leather. “Jesus, Shayla! Warn a person!” I spin to see my best friend with glazed-over eyes and a shit eating grin on her face. Looks like someone’s three sheets to the wind.
“What are you doing? Why aren’t you dancing with Waverly and me?” Her voice is whiny and child-like, which only compliments the pout of her lips.
“My vagina is angry, Shayla.”
“What? Why?” She smooths her hair away from her face before reaching for a glass of water and chugging it eagerly.
“Because there is no man lighting up my clit tonight, and there hasn’t been since Thursday.” I huff and take another sip of my drink.
Shayla licks her lips and then grins. “You’re still thinking about Silas, aren’t you?” After Shayla sensed my disappointment when Silas never appeared the other night at Omnia, she drilled me for more information about what was going through my mind. It didn’t take much after several drinks to confess that I obviously found the man attractive, given my reaction at the restaurant. But now I can’t seem to move past the lingering thoughts about him, and that is quite abnormal for me.
“He broke me, Shayla. The man has cast a hex on my vagina and now no other man is doing it for me.”
Shayla snorts. “Your vagina is not broken, Chloe. You just… found a man attractive and can’t seem to shake him. It happens to us all at some point. Hell, look at me with Wes.” She shrugs while swaying slightly in her spot.
I point a finger at my chest. “But I don’t do that, Shayla. I don’t fixate on one man long enough to care. You know that. There are plenty of dicks in the sea. They got the saying wrong. It’s not fish, it’s dick, and there are plenty everywhere and I could have any one I wanted because I’m a woman and that’s my prerogative. Yet I can’t seem to get past the one I haven’t even seen yet!”
Shayla’s eyes widen as she glances over my shoulder. “Oh my God.”
“What?” I spin around to see what she’s staring at and the pitter patter of my heart has me bending on my knees in silent prayer.
As if God was listening to my rant and heard my cries, he made Silas De Luca magically appear just on the other side of our private booth. His casual stance and pearly white grin has my clit activating and preparing for takeoff.
The clit is lit. I repeat, the clit is lit. Commence the mission.
“Son of a bitch, my prayers have been answered,” I mumble as Shayla smacks me on the arm, pulling my attention back to her.
“Talk about serendipity. Now, refill your drink and get your flirt on so I don’t have to listen to you belly ache anymore,” she reprimands while stumbling as she stands.
“You act like you don’t love me and my belly aching.”
“You put up with mine, so I put up with yours. It’s our love language,” she retorts before walking toward Wes, who’s standing next to Silas.
“Damn right,” I shout after her before tossing back the rest of my drink and then standing, preparing to walk over and clench my sweet victory for the night. Silas may have escaped me two nights ago, but he won’t this time. That hot hunky Italian is all mine.
With a fluff of my natural curls and a boob adjustment, I stride across the space with my eyes focused on the prize, and I don’t miss the glimmer in his eyes when he sees me, followed up by the slow rise of the corners of his mouth.
“Hello, Silas,” I say in a velvety purr that even has my own libido stirring.
“Chloe. You look beautiful tonight.” His eyes dance up and down my body encased in a burgundy dress that hugs my curves and displays a tasteful amount of cleavage. I know I look good tonight and it seems Silas agrees.
“You look good enough to eat,” I fire back, eliciting a full bodied laugh from Wes and a soft chuckle from Silas.
“Are you having a good time?” he says, sidestepping my comment.
“It just got a hell of a lot better now that you’re here.”
He studies me, contemplating his next move. But I’m determined to make this night end the way I want it to, so I don’t give him much time to come up with a response.
“Care to dance?” I offer him my hand and watch his eyes lower to where my arm is outstretched.
“I’m not much of a dancer,” he counters, shifting slightly on his feet.
“The hell you aren’t, man,” Wes chimes in and then playfully shoves Silas toward me. His hand envelops mine as he catches his footing and then throws a glare over his shoulder at Wes, who’s gleaming from ear to ear as Shayla giggles in his arms. “Now go dance with Chloe before she really gets worked up.”
I smirk at Silas as he focuses back on me, tossing my head in the direction of the dance floor. “Come on. I’ll even do all the work.” I wink at him and then he’s close on my heels, his hand still in mine as we make our way through sweaty bodies moving to heavy dance beats.
When I find a spot I like, I twirl to face him and then drape my arms over his shoulders, shimmying my hips to the music as his hands grip me there and his body moves in time with mine.
“So how is Vegas treating you? Did you enjoy your dinner the other night at my restaurant?” He breaks the silence while penetrating me with his gaze. The feel of his hands on me, the heat of him coming through his shirt that my fingers are grazing is enough to spark the electricity burning between us even more.
“I’d give it an eight out of ten so far.”
“Only an eight?”
“Yeah. I mean, the food was top notch, and the wine suggested by the owner was one of the best I’ve ever tasted—but then the owner disappeared and I never got to finish that conversation.”
“Well, it’s a good thing he showed up tonight, isn’t it?” He narrows his eyes at me while the song changes and our bodies adjust to the new rhythm.
“Wes was right, you can dance.” My entire body hums with energy as Silas begins to control our movements. And I’m not usually one to submit. I’m more of the dominant in almost all aspects of my life because my life has groomed me to be that way—but allowing him to take control in this moment has my mind and body thrilled with this slight lack of control.
“He’s right about a lot. Always has been.”
“That’s right. You three have known each other for a long time, huh?” I remember Wes and Hayes filling in Shayla and me the other night about their connection to Silas.
“Since high school for me. Hayes and Wes grew up together from a much younger age. But once I came along, they couldn’t resist letting me into their bromance.”
“I find it hard to believe anyone could resist you, Silas De Luca.” I let his name roll off my tongue, which has Silas fixating on my mouth for a brief moment.
“So who are you, Chloe …?”
“Pierce,” I finish for him, assuming he wanted my last name.
“Chloe Pierce,” he repeats, spinning me around with a twirl of his arm and then returning me to the same position as before. And that spin—well, it knocked my body and my mind even more off-balance than I already was.
“Not much to say. I’ve known Shayla since we were kids as well. She is my best friend and I would take a bullet for her, even though I honestly hope I never have to cash in that best friend card. We actually live together in Santa Barbara where I run my own dog walking business.”
“Dog walking?” he asks, surprisingly.
“Yes. Dog walking. Don’t balk at it, or I’ll march off this dance floor right now, mister.”
He smirks and then tightens his grip on my waist. “I wasn’t balking. Tell me more, please.”
“Well, Santa Barbara is a very pet-friendly town, full of older people in retirement. A lot of people who live there also travel or work so much that they need someone to come in and check on their pets, take them for walks, etc. That’s where I come in. I’ve built quite the clientele actually,” I state proudly, surprising even myself with how much I want to impress him.
And I never care what anyone thinks of me.
“It takes drive to build something like that. It’s impressive, Chloe.”
“So are your restaurants, Silas,” I reply smoothly, lifting my fingers to drag my nails down the back of his neck, loving how tense and then melty he gets from my touch. “How did you manage to build a brand of that magnitude at such a young age?”
His lips purse as he studies me once again. “I’m not that young, Chloe, but the chain started with my grandfather and then expanded when my dad and he began working together. Things almost fell apart when …” His eyes flick off to the side of the room as his body tenses.
“When what?” I press before realizing that we’re having an extremely normal conversation in the middle of a dance floor in a club in Vegas.
Silas shakes his head and then stops moving all at once. “Never mind. I think I’m done dancing for tonight.”
“But the night has just begun!” I say a little too enthusiastically.
He sighs and then leads me off of the dance floor to a secluded corner, keeping his hand gently clasped around my upper arm. “Look, you seem like a nice woman, Chloe—a little crass, but beautiful and fiercely independent. However, I don’t do relationships …”
“Who said anything about a relationship?” I cut him off dramatically, my words oozing with desperation that doesn’t necessarily paint me in the best light, but I’m determined to get what I want. “I just want your dick for the night.” I size him up once again appreciatively. “And based on the size of you, I’d imagine your dick matches the massive parts I’m able to see.”
His mouth falls open in amused shock. “Well, I guess I can’t be offended by your honesty, but one-night-stands aren’t really my thing either.”
“Silas,” I say, running my hand up and over the planes of his chest, tensing as I feel the mountains of muscles concealed by the pressed white cotton. “When I tell you I’m not like other women, I’m speaking the truth. I won’t beg you to call me, you won’t get mysterious messages from me on your social media to just casually say hello, and I promise you, I will give you a night you won’t soon forget, sir.” I rise on my toes and lean in just enough to press my lips to the corner of his mouth, moving down to his jaw, and then dragging my tongue slowly along his stubble and the tan skin of his neck.
A groan escapes Silas’s lips as I feel his hand squeeze my hip. He’s losing the battle, the fight between following his rules or giving in and having a little fun. And my body is yearning for him to choose the Devil on his shoulder, the bad influence that convinces him to see what kind of promises I can deliver on.
“Chloe,” he groans before releasing his grip on me and stepping two steps back. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m going to have to respectfully decline.”
My jaw drops slightly, but I recover quickly, hiding my shock and disappointment before he notices. “You’re sure?”
“Yes, unfortunately. It was… lovely to speak with you again, and thank you for the dance.” With a nod of his head, he turns around and leaves me alone in a dark corner of the club to contemplate what just transpired.
He… he shot me down. Silas De Luca had a clear offer for sex—with me—and he denied it.
What the fuck just happened? And why does it feel like my clit is crying now?