Raising the Stakes: Risking It, #1

By Autumn Reed and Julia Clarke

If I've learned anything in my twenty-one years, it's how to play it safe. My rules are simple...

 

Don't lose sight of the prize in your last year of college.

Don't get distracted by the glitz and glamour of Las Vegas.

And don't fall for guys who make you question everything.

 

I've been doing so well, too...until my best friend drags me to a trendy Vegas nightclub to celebrate the beginning of winter break. I might be wearing my sexiest dress, but that doesn't explain why I've caught the attention of three men who are too rich, too arrogant, and too hot for their own good.

 

And they're not giving up.

 

I know Shane, Nicholas, and Cole are keeping secrets from me. The question is—why?

 

Blame it on my journalistic instincts, but I can't resist figuring out what they're up to. If I'm forced to go on a series of extravagant dates to find the answers I'm seeking, so be it. All in the name of research, right?

 

But I probably should have reminded myself not to get in too deep. If I'm not careful, I won't only break my rules—I'll risk my heart.

 

 

**Raising the Stakes is the first book in the Risking It trilogy, a reverse harem romance. It was previously published as a 35,000-word novella and was updated in October 2021 with 15,000 words of new content.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Autumn Reed
• Release date: Oct 19, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201426996

Autumn Reed

Autumn is a lifelong bookworm with a penchant for sarcasm. She loves cloudy days, fluffy dogs, and murdering succulents. When she isn't bringing daydreams to life on the page, she can be found behind the lens of a digital camera or binge-watching Veronica Mars. To read more about Autumn Reed, visit www.autumnreed.com.

Book preview

Chapter One

Are you sure this is the right place?

I stepped out of the cab and eyed the dimly lit street with trepidation, tugging my jacket closer to my body to keep out the cool December air. When Simone had talked me into a night out to celebrate conquering finals, I’d pictured a hip club on the Strip, not a dingy warehouse in Nowheresville.

Yes, worrywart. Come on.

She tugged on my arm and led me around the boring, rectangular building. I started grumbling, until we rounded the corner and I caught sight of the hordes of people lined up outside the club. And these weren’t just run-of-the-mill Vegas club-goers; these were the pretty people. Girls in metallic dresses and stilettos and young men who could have stepped off a runway . . . or a Chippendales stage.

Holy shit. All these people came way out here for a club? I noticed the sign displaying Loft25 in white neon lights, but it didn’t ring a bell.

God, Emma. Simone paused to give me an exasperated look followed by a toss of her long brown hair. You are totally clueless sometimes, you know that? This is the hottest club that’s opened in years. All the locals act like it’s this huge secret since it’s off the Strip, but it’s anything but. Loft25 has been blowing up social media since it opened two months ago. Actually, now that I think about it, you should publish an article about it.

A story on a popular new club in Vegas—not exactly the hard-hitting journalism I preferred to endorse, but it would probably get massive web hits. As assistant editor of the University of Nevada, Las Vegas paper, I had to be open-minded when it came to topics of interest to the average college student. Politics? Sometimes interesting. Hot new clubs? Always.

Simone, over here! a girl I recognized as Simone’s friend Jessica called from near the entrance. With her sleek, shoulder-length black hair and daring white dress, she looked even more gorgeous than the few other times I’d met her.

Jessica started chatting with one of the bouncers and pointed to the girl standing with her and then me and Simone. He gave us a drawn-out once-over, his eyes lingering on my legs, before waving us through. A chorus of groans reverberated from the long line outside, and I smiled in satisfaction. Good thing I kept this dress in the back of my closet for an emergency.

Between its dangerously low back, emphasized by thin straps crisscrossing up to my neck, and hemline only reaching mid-thigh, the crimson dress was undeniably slinkier than my usual attire. But I felt amazing in it. Daring, sexy, carefree. My ex would have hated it and insisted I change before stepping out the door of my apartment. In other words, just one more reason to love it.

We strode into an interior hallway, where a second bouncer ran our IDs through some type of machine, and I wondered how it worked. Was it merely for spotting fakes, or did it keep a record of patrons? Shaking my head to turn off my reporter brain, I followed the other girls into the club and did an honest-to-god double take.

Instead of the bland warehouse interior I’d expected, the space was surprisingly inviting. The exposed wood beams and black metal accents contrasted with the light gray, cement walls, giving the room the feel of an upscale, modern loft. I glanced toward the upper level, where guests overlooked the dance floor, some leaning against the metal railing as they drank and chatted. Others lounged in the VIP section, complete with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, rolling ladders, and actual books.

To our right, an incredibly long bar stretched from one end of the building to the other, the endless backlit shelves of alcohol neatly arranged. Along the opposite wall, stood two rows of high pedestal tables, where people gathered, drinks in hand. The dance floor was in the middle of everything, and while it was loud, as expected, at least the current song lacked the annoying strobe lights that were commonplace in other clubs I’d been to.

The most striking aspect of the interior was the massive wall of windows overlooking an outdoor oasis with strands of white globe lights, low-profile furniture, and a seemingly laid-back bar. Secluded from the noise and crush of bodies inside, it looked utterly appealing. I was tempted to head out there but knew my bestie would insist I dance with her first.

Emma, you remember Jessica? And this is her roommate, Danielle, Simone shouted once we’d grabbed drinks, including a round of shots, and found an open table.

Jessica leaned across the small table so I could hear her. You look amazing . . . I want that dress!

Isn’t it hot? Simone agreed, looking me over. And the sexy, tousled look is really working for you.

I instinctively reached up to smooth my blonde hair, the usually straight locks intentionally mussed. Thanks.

I loved your article on the debate between traditional and no-kill animal shelters, Jessica gushed. It was enlightening, even for me.

Simone had introduced me to Jessica a couple months before when I began researching the subject. Since Jessica volunteered at a local shelter, she’d helped me secure an interview with the director. Thank you. I wish I got to play with puppies for every story.

She laughed. I bet.

Are you still volunteering there?

Yep. I worked at a vet’s office over the summer and loved it, but I couldn’t handle that many hours during the school year. So, I decided to spend a few hours a week volunteering at the shelter instead. I get my animal fix and get to help out, win-win. Jessica drained her drink and grabbed Simone’s hand. Let’s dance. My time is limited tonight. I have an early flight tomorrow.

Going home? It was a silly question, considering most UNLV students had already left for winter break.

Jessica’s answering smile was blinding. I’m visiting my best friend in Santa Cruz. I’m so freaking excited. We’ve barely seen each other over the last few years.

That sounds fun.

And it did. I wished I could escape to a friend’s house instead of going back to Indiana to see my family. At least I was able to use the newspaper as an excuse for only visiting for a few days out of my month-long break. Although I could have easily worked from my parents’ house, they didn’t need to know that. I was already dreading my mother’s infuriating comments about moving home, getting married, and having babies.

Simone turned to me, one eyebrow raised. Ready to shake that booty?

Laughing, I took a sip of my Cosmo. Not until I finish this. Go on—I’ll meet you out there.

I watched the girls sashay onto the dance floor and admired the way they so easily let loose, especially Simone. Unlike me, she exuded sex appeal and confidence like it was second nature, her curvy hips swinging to the beat with ease. She had been begging me for months to come out with her. It wasn’t that I didn’t like to have fun, but it had been forever since I’d allowed myself to act like a carefree college student.

My ex-boyfriend, Matt, and I had been high school sweethearts, our relationship so cliché that I was almost embarrassed to own up to it. Not only were we voted homecoming king and queen, but we’d received the most likely to get married and have two-point-five kids award. Everything had been great until I’d decided to attend UNLV, something Matt—and my mother—had argued against vehemently, assuming I would attend Indiana University with him. But I’d ignored their protests, happy to get out of my small town and ready to accept my full-ride academic scholarship.

Once we were in college, Matt had become increasingly jealous, often accusing me of hooking up with other guys when I went out with friends. Eventually, I’d stopped going to parties and clubs altogether. It wasn’t worth the argument. Of course, when we had seen each other, he’d been the perfect boyfriend—always attentive and almost overly nice to my friends.

It all fell apart last summer when I’d told Matt I was staying in Vegas instead of returning to Indiana as usual. He’d been pissed at first but had quickly changed tactics and pleaded for me to come home, saying how much he missed me. After I’d still refused to budge, he’d made it clear that if I didn’t want him, there were plenty of girls who did.

It wasn’t an exaggeration. Matt was as good-looking as he was charming, and part of me had always wondered if he’d cheated on me. I didn’t have a good reason to doubt his devotion, but what sane girl wouldn’t question her long-distance, football-playing boyfriend’s loyalty?

Regardless of any suspected infidelity on his part, between his controlling nature and the long-coming realization that I wasn’t in love with him anymore—and hadn’t been for quite some time—I’d broken up with him. He hadn’t taken it well, and neither had my mother, another of the many reasons I wasn’t looking forward to spending Christmas with my parents.

I finished off my drink and peered into the sea of dancers, hoping I could find the girls without pushing my way through scores of handsy couples. I took a few steps in the direction I last saw them and was stopped just short of ramming into a chest covered in a fitted dress shirt.

Strong hands gripped my shoulders, something that should have felt invasive. But as my gaze wandered up to a clean-shaven jaw, followed by smirking lips and striking blue-gray eyes, all I felt was intrigued.

What’s your hurry?

The stranger’s smooth voice, paired with his touch on my bare shoulders, caused a zing of awareness to course through me. I wasn’t one to be swayed by a pretty face, but I found that I didn’t want to move away. I wanted to drown in those striking eyes that were busy soaking in every inch of me.

The song changed, effectively snapping me out of my haze, and I forced myself to shrug off his hands. My friends are waiting for me.

How about a dance first?

I don’t—

Let me stop you there, he said, interrupting further argument. It’s just a dance. I’m a nice guy. I promise to be respectful. Say yes.

His sudden grin was so magnetic, I found myself agreeing. One dance.

He grasped my hand and led me through the crowd until we were somewhere in the middle of it. Slowly, he pulled me toward him and wrapped his arms around my waist, making me feel delicate against his noticeably hard body.

Dipping his head so that we were cheek to cheek, he asked, What’s your name? The words blew hot against my ear, and I shivered.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and situated my mouth so that it was mere inches from his. Emma, I replied on a breath, unable to resist a knowing grin. Two could play at this game.

He chuckled. Pleasure meeting you, Emma. I’m Shane.

Shane, I repeated, testing it. I’d never met a Shane before, but I could already tell it suited him.

We stopped talking then, allowing our movements to say all that we needed to. As if commanded by his hands, my hips swayed to the music, the alcohol and beat humming through my body. He held me close, and I couldn’t help thinking that things with Matt had never been this electric.

I wanted to blame it on the fact that Shane was a stranger. But as his hands slid around to my back, their warmth seeping into my bare skin, I knew better. It was just him.

Between his effortlessly styled dark hair, expensive-looking clothes, and a face to stop traffic, he was the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome.

Dangerous.

Maybe not to my person but definitely to my restraint. I wasn’t here looking for a boyfriend. With only one semester of college ahead of me, I needed to focus on the future. And I sincerely doubted that a guy this hot was interested in anything more than a simple hookup, something I didn’t do.

When the song ended, I withdrew from Shane, but his hands remained firmly in place. Always in such a rush. Don’t you ever take things slowly? he asked seductively, wrapping a strand of my hair around his finger.

Don’t you ever take no for an answer? I responded in a sassy tone.

Not when I really want something. His intense gaze met mine.

Suddenly feeling bold, I leaned in and spoke a hairsbreadth from his mouth. Something or someone?

Before he could respond, I stepped out of his embrace and walked away, needing to put distance between us before I did something I might regret. That dance, relatively innocent as it was, got me revved up in a totally unexpected way. I almost wished I could be a one-night stand kind of girl, because Shane with the blue-gray eyes was hazardous to my libido.

When he called my name, I glanced over my shoulder and smiled, drinking in his undeniable hotness one last time. Then I disappeared into the crowd.

Chapter Two

Feeling a little too proud of myself for that dramatic exit, I waltzed up to the bar for another shot before scouring the room for Simone and the others. I found them on the other side of the dance floor, getting familiar with a group of guys. But as soon as my bestie spotted me, she broke away and began exaggeratedly shaking her ass.

Where have you been? she shouted.

I’ll tell you later.

The last thing I wanted to do was explain my run-in with a sexy stranger when I could barely hear myself think. It was significantly louder over here than where Shane and I had been standing—and moving and touching.

Simone nodded and pulled me into the group. It took me a few minutes, but once I began to relax, I had to admit that I was having fun. With the stress of finals behind me, this was the perfect time to let loose. I had no one to answer to or any deadlines on the immediate horizon. I could just be.

Why had I denied myself this freedom for so long? Matt and I had been over since summer. Now it was December, and I’d spent the entire fall semester being the perfect student with little to show for it.

When I thought I couldn’t possibly dance any more, I made my excuses to the girls and headed for glass doors leading to the patio, fighting off disappointment that Shane hadn’t reappeared to claim me for another dance. The moment I stepped outside, the crisp, evening air flooded my lungs and cooled my flushed skin. So. Much. Better.

As I made my way to the bar, I decided right then and there to replicate a