more. She wanted all of him.
Now.
A push and a tug and Nick was upright on the couch, and he helped settle her onto his lap with a lazy, appreciative smile. With her legs on either side of his strong thighs and her knees snugged up next to his hips, she pressed against the bulge in his pants and gasped as a bolt of heat shot though her.
It was easy to push his shirt up and over his head, baring sculpted bronze skin to her eager hands. The dusting of crisp black hair tickled her fingers as she explored the lines and planes of his chest, and she felt the muscles jump when she brushed her thumbs over his nipples.
She was shocking herself with her actions, but not Nick. His hungry look told her that much. Again she sent up a word of thanks for Las Vegas and men like Nick. Nick was unlike any of the men at home—they were too polished, too urbane, too domesticated. Nick’s rough edges excited her, made her feel as if she was dealing with something powerful and raw and untamed. It reached inside her, past the years of behaving herself, and released her.
More importantly, Nick seemed to like that part of her. Encourage it, even. It was a heady combination—the power and the freedom—and it frightened her a bit with its intensity.
Nick’s hands locked around her arms, pulling her down for another soul-stealing kiss. A moment later, she felt the straps at her shoulders give way. Then the zipper of her skirt. The fabric bunched under his hands as they made their way up her body with excruciating slowness. She lifted her arms and Nick pulled both items over her head, and she fought back a blush as his eyes moved appreciatively over her body.
His fingers brushed over the top of her lacy strapless bra, teasing her nipples and causing her thighs to clench. A quick twist of the clasp and it joined the rest of her clothes on the ground.
She hissed as Nick’s tongue snaked out to tease, then bit back a cry when he pulled her aching nipple into the moist heat of his mouth. His hands went to her waist, pressing down as he lifted his hips and pressed against her very needy core.
Oh, yesss.
A tug on his hair and Nick was kissing her again, his tongue sliding across hers in a way that made her insides melt and her breathing ragged. His hands cupped her face gently as she worked on his belt and slid his zipper down.
She caught his groan in her mouth as she palmed him, running her hand over the hard length of an impressive erection that made her shiver with anticipation. Nick’s eyes closed and he leaned back, his fingers digging into her thighs as she stroked him. Evie felt powerful, sexy, pleased she could make Nick feel even a part of that burning ache he stoked in her.
Nick suddenly surged forward, capturing her mouth in a savage kiss as he lifted her to the side easily with only one arm, using the other to slide her panties down her legs and off. That same dexterity had the rest of his clothes off in a blink, and he settled her back into her original position.
With a bravado she didn’t know she had, she managed to meet his eyes and hold the stare as he tickled his fingers along her inner thigh, teasing her before his thumb slipped between her damp folds and wrung a moan from her with barely a touch.
Nick cursed, and holding her in place, leaned forward and reached for the table. Confused, she turned her head in time to see him slide open a drawer. Condoms filled the small space.
They weren’t the first people to use this room for…She tried to swallow her shock. “Oh. Goodness.”
“These rooms are for private parties, too.”
Of course they are. Nick must think she was some kind of naive country girl. She tried to sound airy and sophisticated. “They really do think of everything here, don’t they?”
Nick’s smile caught her off guard. “Thank God they do.”
She couldn’t argue with that, and she was thankful Nick was coherent enough to remember the basics. Her brain had definitely checked out. Nick placed the condom on the cushion next to him and settled back into place.
In no rush, his hands began exploring her body again, teasing her nipples, sliding a strong finger inside her until her nails were digging into his biceps and she was gasping for breath.
An eternity later, she heard the beautiful sound of a condom packet being ripped open, and Nick was guiding her hips into position.
Evie couldn’t stifle her groan of pleasure as she sank slowly onto him, savoring each centimeter until they were completely locked together. Her thighs shook as she started to move, Nick’s hands helping her set the pace.
Sweet mercy, she was going to die, right here, from the sheer bliss of the feel of him in her. She let her forehead fall against his as the movement became more frantic, the pleasure sharper and more intense. She felt light-headed as the pressure built, radiating out until her entire body began to shake, and she threw her head back and screamed his name as she shattered into a thousand glittering pieces.
He’d never used one of his VIP lounges for sex before. He’d hosted a small gathering in this room only once: last year when they’d celebrated the purchase of the Starlight. He had good memories of that night, but tonight guaranteed he’d never look at this room the same way again. Every piece of furniture, the floor, even the long wall of windows, would now hold the image of Evie, naked and panting and crying out his name.
Evie lay back against the couch, her hair a tangle of curls cascading over the edge to nearly touch the carpet. The picture she created was more than enough to get his blood pumping again, although it shouldn’t be possible after he’d taken her so many times he’d lost count. But the band had long ago called it quits for the night, and the slowdown on the dance floor told him how late it was. He checked his watch to be sure.
He ran a hand over the leg Evie had draped across his lap, and she sighed contentedly. “Starlight closes at four. We should probably get dressed.”
Evie switched from sensual to shy in a heartbeat; the woman who’d clawed his back and screamed his name—repeatedly—couldn’t seem to meet his eyes now. A blush stained her cheeks as modesty returned about three hours too late, and she fumbled for her clothes.
“Um, okay…sure. Just give me a minute.”
Her face was redder than the desert sunset, and she practically ran for the attached bathroom, giving him a lovely view of her backside as she retreated.
He untangled his own clothes and pulled his shirt on over his head, surprised to find that the scent of Evie’s perfume clung faintly to it. The smell wasn’t a familiar one—he couldn’t place it. It was heady, yet subtle, exotic and unique.
Much like Evie.
She was tempting and seductive, yet there was a wholesome genuineness underneath. She seemed cautious to approach new things—even hesitant at times—but she had an adventurous streak that couldn’t be denied. Her honeyed Texas drawl wasn’t affected, but it gave way sometimes to something else, leading him to believe she wasn’t a true Dallas native.
Part of him thought she had to be from that Southern aristocracy he’d heard about; she had class, elegance and she could be unbelievably polite and well-mannered. At the same time, she lacked that air of superiority Old-Money people had: that belief they were somehow better than everyone else just because great-grandpa once owned half the town.
He
