Quentin smiled and turned back around.
Alyssa rolled her eyes.
“Anyway,” Q said, “like I was saying, bachelorhood is for me. So I figured that birds of feather flock together, right?”
Scribbling. “You tell me.”
This is like talking to myself.
“It beats talking to a woman that’s not really here,” Alyssa said, twirling around in her dress.
Quentin rolled his eyes but had to concede her point. “Well, I considered my business partners and cousins Xavier, Jeremy and Eamon a part of my flock. Well, maybe not Eamon so much—but definitely Xavier and Jeremy. They all loved women as much as I did. None of them wanted to settle down with just one, which actually made them the perfect partners in The Dollhouse.”
“What’s The Dollhouse?”
“Only the hottest gentlemen’s clubs in the country, of course I’m a little biased.” A smile eased across Quentin’s face as his chest expanded with pride. “We’re in Atlanta, Las Vegas and Los Angeles. But the big moneymaker is our side business called Bachelor Adventures—where we host the wildest bachelor parties ever. The women have their day, the men have their night. You know what I mean?”
Scribbling. “So you and your cousins provide a service for men to enjoy their last night of bachelorhood?”
“That was the plan.”
“Until?”
Q drew a deep breath. “Until love showed up. What else? Then they started to fall one by one. Take Eamon for example…”
Chapter 1
“Welcome to The Dollhouse, Las Vegas,” Eamon King shouted above the crowd, raising his glass to toast the raucous bachelor party as fifty or so guys entered the V.I.P. section of his exclusive Vegas nightclub. Most of them whooped and hollered, and fist-pumped over the loud, pulsing music—a clear sign that they were married men who’d planned to go buck wild on this rare night away from their wives. A few of their eyes were already bulging at the sexy-looking women who worked at The Dollhouse.
“Now, which one of you is Marcus Henderson?” Eamon asked, his gaze combing the crowd.
“Right here,” they shouted and then pushed a six-foot, pencil-thin nerdy-looking brother in black-rimmed glasses.
Eamon ignored his private thoughts about the guy looking like a stereotypical paper pusher and hooked one of his muscled arms around the man’s neck. “All right, Mr. Henderson,” he boasted. “As one of the owners of this establishment, I want to personally guarantee you that tonight will definitely be a night that you will never forget!”
“Whooo-hoooo!” Henderson’s party shouted.
“Last night of freedom,” Marcus joked shyly.
“Plenty of time for you to change your mind,” someone shouted from the crowd.
Although there was a smile on Marcus’s face, Eamon detected a note of uncertainty in his voice. He gave Henderson another casual glance and thought to himself that if this man had found a woman—any woman—to say yes, then maybe he’d better get on his knees, say his prayers and seal the deal as fast as he could.
“Ladies! Please come on up here,” Eamon shouted.
On cue, Shawn, Brittani and Cassie strolled into the V.I.P. room smiling from ear-to-ear in their metallic gold Daisy Dukes and matching bikini tops. In their hands each one carried a golden ice bucket with a bottle of Cristal.
All the men’s eyes grew even wider and their mouths sagged to the floor.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” the beauties greeted in sync.
“Oh sweet baby Jesus,” Marc mumbled.
Eamon reached over and nudged Marc’s chin so that he’d close his mouth before he started to drool. “Now gentlemen, these three ladies will be your hostesses for the evening. If there is anything that you need, your hostess will take care of you. But first…” Eamon walked to the back of the V.I.P. room and stepped onto the stage and grabbed the microphone lying on the lone chair next to a stripper pole. “I need the man of the evening to come on up here.”
The men clapped and shoved Marc forward.
It was clear that he wasn’t used to the spotlight as he seemed to tuck his head down and had trouble making eye contact as he made his way up to the stage.
Amused, Eamon shook his head and then swung his arm around Marc’s shoulder and directed him to face forward. “Now. We at The Dollhouse have something special for you, my man.”
One side of Marc’s lips curled upward as he asked in a quivering voice, “Really?”
“Ooooh yes. I have a special girl in mind for you. “He tossed him a wink and then signaled to the DJ. The music quickly transitioned into Li’l Wayne’s “Lollipop.” To the crowd Eamon said, “Gentlemen, won’t you welcome to the stage DELICIOUS!”
A gold-and-silver disco ball descended from the ceiling. The men gave enthusiastic barks and shouts as The Dollhouse’s number-one moneymaker, Delicious, stepped onto the stage, working her hips like a figure eight and rolling her chest so that the small tassels on the ends of her gold pasties spun like mini-helicopters.
The crowd went wild while Marc stood like a deer in headlights and Eamon exited the stage and handed off the mic to one of the hostesses. Delicious knew how to work a crowd and within seconds, she had them all eating out of the palm of her hand.
As Eamon worked his way to the back of the V.I.P. room, he spotted his brothers, Xavier and Jeremy, with their arms folded and leaning against the back wall. The three of them were similar in build and coloring: tall, milk-chocolate brown with solid, sculpted muscles. Of the three, Eamon sported a pencil-thin goatee, a slightly squarer jaw, with eyes that were slanted like Tyson Beckford’s. While Eamon and Xavier stood at an even six-four, Jeremy, the pip-squeak, came in at six-three and three quarters. It was hardly noticed by others, but it made for endless teasing by his older brothers.
They were all pretty laid-back. They were very close having grown up in a family that didn’t have a lot of money, but plenty of love. Their parents had taught them the value of hard work and didn’t accept any excuses. The three put themselves through college and then went into business together. They weren’t as rich as their cousins, the Hintons, but they each had a couple of million in the bank.
“What are you guys doing here?” Eamon asked, suspiciously.
“Damn. What? No hug or ‘how in the hell are you’?” Xavier shouted above the music, smiling.
Eamon lifted a brow. His brother was showing a little too much teeth with that smile. “I’ll hook you up at the next family reunion.” His gaze then shifted to Jeremy who was acting like he’d never seen Delicious perform before. Playing along, Eamon folded his arms and turned back toward the stage.
Marcus Henderson sat in the chair center stage, looking like he’d died and gone to heaven. His ebony goddess
