“All I ask, Lauren, is that you not embarrass me.”
When sexually emancipated MILF Lauren Gordon accompanies her husband to a convention in Las Vegas, she’s hoping for some R&R—ideally of the carnal variety. But Elliott’s running for president of NADA—the National Association of Divorce Lawyers—and he’s worried that his wife’s free-wheeling ways will undermine his chances. Reining in her frustration, Lauren promises to avoid any erotic interactions with conference attendees or hotel staff.
Fortunately she meets Annie O’Reilly, a redheaded Vegas native with luscious curves and few if any inhibitions. With Annie as her companion, Lauren becomes intimately acquainted with some outrageously wanton denizens of Sin City. Then her husband unfairly accuses her of breaking her promise and Lauren decides it’s time to go for broke.
Bringing together characters from Lisabet’s Vegas Babes and The Slut series, The Slut Does Vegas delivers heat, humor and a surprisingly happy ending.
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Excerpt:
“All I ask, Lauren, is that you not embarrass me.”
Her husband’s unexpected utterance grabbed Lauren’s attention. She’d been ogling the cute waiter who was circulating from table to table, topping up coffees. A few years older than her son Josh, the guy had a hundred-watt smile and a luscious butt.
“What?” People at nearby tables gave her strange looks. “What do you mean, Elliott?” she continued, reducing her volume. “Embarrass you in what way?”
“You know… with any of your extracurricular activities.” Elliott’s mouth pursed as though he’d eaten something sour. “It would look really bad if you got…” He lowered his voice to a near-whisper. “Um…involved with anyone from the conference.”
She glanced around the hotel restaurant at the other people finishing their breakfasts. You could tell which ones were the lawyers. They wore expensive suits and expressions of self-importance. “I doubt I’d be interested in any of the conference attendees,” she commented dryly.
“The hotel staff wouldn’t be much better.” Maybe he’d noticed the attention she’d been giving the server. “If anyone here finds out about our – arrangement, it could kill my chances for the Association presidency.”
“You really want to be president of the National Association of Divorce Attorneys?” She chuckled despite herself. Who’d be oblivious enough to name their organization NADA?
“It’s really important for my career,” he insisted, wiping his mouth and pushing his plate away. “And it means a lot to me personally. Plus the connections could bring in a lot more business.”
“I understand that you’d like the recognition, hon. And I know you deserve it.” She rested her hand on his for a moment. “But from what I can see, you’re already swamped with work.” She downed the last swallow of her grapefruit juice, then licked her lips. “That’s one of the reasons for my ‘extracurricular activities’, as you so delicately put it. Let’s face it, you don’t have the time to keep me satisfied.”
Her husband slumped in his chair, as if she’d punched him in the gut. “I know I haven’t been giving you the attention you deserve, baby,” he said softly. “And I’m okay with you getting what you need elsewhere, as we’ve agreed. But I need you to be discreet.”
“Do you think I’m so blatant about wanting sex?”
“Well, just look at the way you’re dressed, for starters.”
“What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed?” She’d thrown on some casual clothes to join him for breakfast: a dungaree skirt that reached to mid-thigh and a striped tee shirt. True, the denim hugged her curves and the scooped neckline showed off her generous cleavage, but that would be true of almost anything she wore.
“You look – well, you look a bit slutty.”
Lauren burst into laughter. “Hon, this is Las Vegas, Sin City, where even the nuns dress like hookers. Nobody is going to think this outfit is slutty.”
Alana Lorens, author 