Wilde Thing

Chapter 13

Steve watched as Liz paced restlessly in front of his desk while she explained the details of her meeting with Antonio less than an hour ago. She'd come straight to his office after her appointment, and while it appeared that everything had gone smoothly and as planned with Antonio, there was something else that had Liz on edge.

"If everything went so well, what's bothering you?" he asked, concerned.

She stopped and met his gaze, her lips pursed, and he knew whatever had her so agitated was finally about to be brought out into the open. "It's going to cost an extra thousand dollars for you to get into the party."

He certainly didn't expect that they'd get in for free, but it was obvious by the disconcerted look on Liz's face that she was devastated by yet another expense in her search for her self-centered cousin.

"That's not a problem," he said evenly. "I'll cover the expense."

Her chin lifted adamantly, and she crossed her arms over her chest. "You know I'll pay you back. Every last penny."

Oh, he believed her, not that he was concerned about when or how she would pay him back. That was the furthest thing from his mind when it came to her. "I'm not worried about payment, Liz."

The case might have started out with expenses for her to gradually reimburse, but he was fronting the fees for the party out of his own personal pocket because he cared for Liz and this was important to her. Which made it equally important to him, regardless of how he felt about the situation with Valerie, and Liz's involvement.

He stood, rounded his desk, and gathered Liz into his arms. She was stiff and tense at first, and he caressed a hand down her back, soothing her with his touch. He smiled when she uncrossed her arms and slipped them around his waist and leaned into him, finally accepting his physical and emotional support.

He wondered when the last time was that someone had taken care of Liz, or simply comforted her as he was doing. He'd bet it had been years, considering Liz's penchant for worrying about everyone else, and her misplaced need in trying to please her aunt and uncle and make up for her rocky, rebellious marriage to Travis. She was so afraid of losing the people who loved her that she went to the extreme to compensate, and that ingrained habit of hers wouldn't change until she accepted that she only had to answer to herself in life.

"Listen, the most important thing is that you were able to get us into the party," he said, and brushed his lips tenderly against her temple, inhaling her soft, feminine scent. "And when I call tonight, everything will go as we've planned. I'll agree to escort you to the party, you connect me over to Doreen to handle the details, and hopefully, by tomorrow night we'll get what we need from Trixie, so I can trace Rob and his whereabouts."

As if realizing how much she was leaning on him, Liz stepped out of his embrace. "I swear, it never seems to end when it comes to Valerie." Frustration vibrated through her tone. "I'm just getting my business back on its feet and Travis's debts paid off, and now this."

While Steve would cheerfully strangle her cousin for putting Liz through such hell, Liz herself needed to realize that Valerie was a grown woman, that the choices she made- right, wrong, or dangerous-were her own to make. And any resulting consequences were Valerie's to bear. No one else's. Just as Liz's choices were her own.

She'd let herself feel guilt where none was warranted, thereby feeding into Valerie's need for attention. So long as Liz did that, her cousin would continue to manipulate her emotions. And all Steve could do was show Liz that he'd be there for her, to make sure she knew how much he cared. He'd protect her to the best of his ability and do his damnedest to locate her cousin and end Liz's worry.

After that, any future they might have together was up to her.

"I have a special delivery for Liz Adams."

Liz looked up from the Irish cream latte she was making for a customer, and glanced at the young man standing on the other side of the counter. He was wearing a navy work shirt with a courier service embroidered on the pocket, verifying his claim as a delivery man. A clipboard was tucked beneath his arm, and he held a flat white box in one hand, secured with ribbon and topped with a huge red velvet bow, and a plastic garment bag in the other.

Startled and a whole lot confused, she handed her customer the drink and met the other man's gaze. "I'm Liz Adams."

"Great." He grinned, and shuffling the items in his hands, he managed to set the clipboard on the counter and produce a pen for her signature. "Sign on the bottom line, and these items are all yours."

She dried her damp hands on a terry towel and shook her head. "But I didn't order anything." At least not from Sensual Pleasures, the name of the boutique imprinted on the garment bag.

"Hey, I just deliver the stuff," the guy said with a shrug. "And if you're Liz Adams, then this delivery is yours, no matter who ordered it."

Feeling self-conscious with her employees and patrons looking on, Liz signed off on the packages and took them from the courier. She told Katie to finish up with the few customers still waiting in line, and that she'd be in her office if she needed extra help.

Once she was in the back room, she hung the vinyl garment bag from a peg on a metal storage shelf and set the lavishly decorated box on her desk. Catching sight of the small white envelope attached to the garment bag with her name on it, she plucked it off, withdrew the card inside, and read the note written in a bold, masculine print.

See you tonight. Love, Steve.

Liz's hand trembled, and her heart beat hard and fast in her chest as she stared at the valediction Steve had used. Not sincerely, not warmly, but love Steve.

The single word tugged on her emotions, made her yearn to embrace all the subtle changes in Steve she'd noticed the past few days, which were becoming increasingly difficult to ignore or dismiss with a pat excuse. There was no denying the tenderness and genuine affection in his gaze when he looked at her, and then there was the way he touched her that had nothing to do with sex, and everything to do with a gentleness and understanding she'd been without for too long.

Love. An emotion that was so wonderful yet so complicated and scary for all it implied.

She exhaled a shaky breath and refocused on the gifts that Steve had sent her, instead of the insistent ache in her chest. She hadn't opened anything yet, but she was fairly certain that her bad boy had gone shopping and purchased an outfit for her to wear tonight, to the Ultimate Fantasy party.

Last night, their phone conversation had gone without a hitch, as had inviting Steve to the exclusive party. According to Steve, the transaction had gone smoothly with Doreen, and Liz was set up for his escort and date. A company limousine would arrive to pick her up first at six tonight, then Steve, and take them both to the Ultimate Fantasy mansion together.

She hadn't seen or spoken to Steve since last night, when he'd gently told her to go home and get a good night's rest. She'd been disappointed that he wasn't going to come by her apartment, but knew it was for the best. At least for her. At the rate that things were progressing for the case, another day or two and her affair with Steve would be over, and she needed to get used to the lonely nights ahead. Again.

A knock on her open office door made her jump and jarred her out of her troubling thoughts. She turned around to find Mona sauntering into the room, her eyes alight with curiosity as she glanced from the box on her desk to the still unopened garment bag behind Liz.

"Hey, what's with the special delivery?" Mona asked unabashedly.

It figured that Mona had witnessed the courier's arrival and had shamelessly come over to snoop, Liz thought with amusement. "It's from Steve." Tucking the card back into the envelope, she slipped the private, intimate note into the top drawer of her desk. "Tonight's the big night."

Mona's gaze widened in understanding. "The two of you are going to one of the fantasy parties?"

"Yes." Liz gave her friend a brief rundown of the events of the past few days in terms of the case, and her finally inviting Steve to the private party. "I'm pretty sure Steve sent me over an outfit to wear for tonight."

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Mona said with an encouraging grin. "Let's see what kind of taste Steve has when it comes to dressing a woman."

"Yes, let's," Liz agreed, just as anxious to see what the garment bag hid.

Unzipping the front closure, she pushed the sides apart. She and Mona gasped in unison as she revealed a beautiful, dazzling red dress unlike anything she had ever owned before.

"Oh, wow," Liz murmured, and grinned, recalling Steve's preference to the color red on a woman, over classic black.

" 'Wow' is right. You have to try this on so I can see it on you," Mona insisted.

And Liz supposed she ought to make sure that the dress actually fit. "I'll be right back," she said, and took the outfit to the employee restroom located in the back of the storage area.

Minutes later, she was staring at her transformed reflection in the small mirror above the sink, which only allowed her to see to where the hemline of the dress ended, just above the knee. But it was enough to confirm that the little red dress did indeed fit, from the deep, V-halter neckline that shaped her breasts and left her entire back bare, to the flattering empire waist that hinted at her curves but didn't blatantly display them. The hemline was flared, and swirled around her hips and thighs when she walked or turned.

She'd planned to wear something from Valerie's closet but was secretly thrilled at what Steve had chosen for her. She'd never worn anything so decadent and sensual, never had any reason to, and couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so sexy and confident in an outfit. It was a novel sensation, one she couldn't help but like and enjoy despite the circumstances.

With one last look in the mirror, she headed back to her office, where Mona was anxiously awaiting her return.

A huge grin lit up her face when she saw Liz. "You look amazing, and I'm so impressed. Steve Wilde certainly has great taste."

Liz twirled around so Mona could see the outfit from all angles. "And apparently, a good eye for my size," she added with a light laugh, though it helped that the dress wasn't a form-fitting sheath but loose and flirty from the waist down. The only thing that was snug was the halter-top-style bodice, which displayed a fair amount of cleavage.

"He's obviously seen enough of you in the buff to make a fairly close judgment call on what would fit your shape." Mona waggled her brows teasingly. "Shall we take a look at what's in box number two?"

Liz slipped off the ribbon and bow, feeling giddy, like a young girl who was being spoiled with such lavish birthday presents. Except it wasn't her birthday, and that made this unexpected surprise, and Steve's attention, so much more special and memorable.

Tossing the box top aside, Liz parted the pale pink tissue paper and felt her body flash hot at the all-red, provocative ensemble she discovered. She fingered the edge of a satin-and-lace garter belt that came with nude silk stockings, and felt her body stir with desire when she caught sight of the sheer, barely there panties with convenient side ties-the only thing that held the scrap of fabric together. There was no bra, but the dress he'd bought for her didn't require one.

"Oh, my," Mona said, and lifted her gaze from the sexy lingerie to Liz. "Steve certainly went all out, didn't he?"

Liz could only nod, overwhelmed by Steve's generosity. "He even included a matching purse. The only thing missing to complete the outfit is a pair of red strappy shoes."

"Which screams for the two of us to go shopping this afternoon." Mona grinned. "I've got an extra employee at the bookstore who can handle things for a couple of hours; how about you?"

She owned an old pair of red leather pumps, but she refused to ruin the effect of the striking outfit Steve had sent her with a staid pair of shoes. "Yeah, I can wing it." Besides, she'd rather be out shopping than sitting here in her office worrying and growing increasingly nervous about tonight's party.

"And while we're out, let's get your hair and nails done, too," Mona suggested, her eyes bright with anticipation. "I'm guessing Steve spent a small fortune on everything, and you can't wear a head-turning dress like this and not look the part of a sexy siren."

Mona's comment was made innocently and out of pure excitement, but Liz felt a moment's hesitation at the realization of how much Steve had spent on her. For once, she ignored that sensible little voice in her head and refused to think about the cost of Steve's gift. This was one present she'd accept from him guilt-free, because she wanted so badly to look and be the part of a seductive, sophisticated woman who'd captured his interest.

Tomorrow the fairy tale would be over, but for tonight, she'd be his every fantasy.

Steve couldn't take his gaze off of the gorgeous, breathtaking woman sitting next to him in the backseat of the limousine as their chauffeur drove them to the Ultimate Fantasy mansion, located in an exclusive area of Lincoln Park.

She quite literally took his breath away.

When he'd chosen the red dress for Liz to wear, he'd imagined she would look stunning, but he was unprepared for the full effect of the dress, combined with artfully applied makeup that enhanced her green eyes yet didn't overwhelm her pretty features, along with the way she'd worn her hair. Her blond tresses were swept up into a soft, sensual style that showed off her neck and the line of her jaw and gave him access to plenty of bare flesh-from her shoulders all the way down to the base of her spine. Then there were those red, sexy strappy heels she was wearing that made her stocking-clad legs look impossibly long and slender.

But for as centerfold-seductive as she looked, it was the sweet, wholesome, down-to-earth woman beneath all the outer trappings who drew him the most, and always would. And as her gaze met his in the dimly lit interior in the backseat of the limo, he could tell she was nervous about what the night would bring.

He picked up her hand, those red, polished nails of hers turning him on, and sought to distract her with other things, like how taken he was with her. "You look absolutely amaz-ing."

A blush swept across her cheeks, matching the glossy shade of red she was wearing on her lips. "Thank you… for the compliment and everything else."

Grinning, he stroked his thumb along the pulse in her wrist. "You're welcome, for the compliment and everything else."

He winked at her, telling her without words that he knew exactly what "everything else" applied to: the outfit and lingerie he'd sent to her. Although the partition between them and the driver was raised, there was no telling if anyone was listening in on their conversation; therefore, they still needed to keep things low-key.

He splayed his palm on her knee and playfully fingered the hem of her dress. "Mind if I take a peek at everything else?" he asked shamelessly.

"Be my guest," she invited boldly.

He slowly, gradually pushed up the bright-red material, taking in the way the nude stockings made her legs shimmer and the lacy band at the top hugged her thighs. Lifting his gaze back to hers, he used his imagination as he traced the garter strap with his fingers, smiled as he touched her panties, and her breath quickened. He found the ties at the sides of her hips, and his groin tightened at the thought of how easy it would be to tug on those ties and remove that flimsy barrier between his fingers and her soft feminine flesh.

"Very, very nice," he murmured, and withdrew his hand from beneath her dress.

"Thank you." Her sultry voice was laced with the same desire shining in her eyes.

He stroked his fingers along her throat and down the deep, plunging V neck of her dress, watching with pleasure as her breasts quivered at the illicit caress, and her nipples peaked against the fabric. "For as incredible as you look, the dress is missing something, though."

She frowned at him. "I can't imagine what."

"Let me show you." Reaching into his coat pocket, he withdrew a flat, velvet-lined box and flipped open the top, revealing a delicate choker of sparkling diamonds shaped into connecting hearts, along with matching earrings.

She gasped in shock, and her wide eyes shot to his. She shook her head, the gesture as firm as her tone when she spoke. "Steve, no."

He'd anticipated her reaction, but he wasn't taking no for an answer. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, but I insist." Very casually he removed the necklace from the velvet lining and released the clasp. "If you're going to be mine tonight, I want you to look the part of a pampered escort."

Considering the charade they were playing, his request was simple enough, and it would be in bad taste for her to argue, and she knew it, too. But he could tell she wasn't happy about accepting yet another gift from him, even as she turned in her seat and allowed him to put the choker on for her.

It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision to buy her the extra accessories. When the woman at the boutique had suggested one of their inexpensive rhinestone necklace sets to compliment the dress, Steve decided that he wanted her to wear the real thing. She deserved the real thing. And he could easily afford it.

Once the necklace was secured, he let his fingers linger at the sensitive nape of her neck and kissed her warm, smooth shoulder. He felt her shiver, and she glanced over her shoulder at him, searching his face, his expression, which he hoped revealed exactly how he felt about her.

"This is too much," she protested in an aching whisper.

It wasn't nearly enough, not when he wanted to give her everything she desired, if only she'd let him into her heart. "Let me be the judge of that, okay?"

She swallowed hard and touched the necklace reverently, tracing the line of connecting diamond hearts with her fingers, her gaze never leaving his. He saw the love shimmering in the depths of her eyes, knew it was there even if she wasn't ready to admit to the emotion.

And for now, for tonight, that knowledge would have to be enough.

Liz kept her arm linked through Steve's and remained close to his side as they mingled in the casual, cocktail-party atmosphere, using him as an anchor as well as making sure that the other party girls knew that he was taken, by her. Many interested gazes connected with both her and Steve-silent, sexual inquiries that made it clear that swapping couples during the course of the night was more than welcome, as was enjoying multiple partners.

Liz shuddered at the thought, took another swallow of her wine to subdue the jitters in her stomach, and tightened her hold on Steve's arm. She wouldn't be sharing her guy with anyone, and they would be out of there just as soon as they gleaned the information they were after.

She'd also made up her mind that if this party produced no results as far as Valerie was concerned, then she was going to call her aunt and uncle and let them handle the situation, no matter how much it pained her to do so. She'd done all she could on her end, and she refused to drag out her cousin's absence any longer than the week she'd been gone.

"Are you doing okay?" Steve asked, apparently sensing her discomfort. "Because if you're feeling uneasy about any of this, we can leave."

She appreciated his concern and protective, sensitive nature, but she had to see this through. She drew a deep, fortifying breath and flashed him the kind of sensual smile an escort would bestow upon her client. "We've come this far; I'm not about to turn back now."

"Good girl. I'll get you out of here as soon as possible," he promised, and kissed her, long and slow and deep, staking his claim on her for anyone who cared to watch. When he finally let her up for air, he murmured huskily, "What do you say we go check out the rest of this swanky place?"

She managed a nod, set her empty wine glass on a passing tray, and followed Steve into the "fantasy" section of the stately residence, where other party girls and clients were viewing playrooms and signing up for the ones that appealed to them-for an extra fee. While Steve appeared intrigued at all the extras that were offered, and Liz was undeniably curious about the props, decorations, and different playrooms she caught sight of, she had no intentions of venturing into that forbidden side of The Ultimate Fantasy.

The mansion was huge and lavishly decorated, with five upper levels of rooms and two other levels that were below the main floor. Each playroom they passed or entered was a complete den of iniquity, decorated in themes that catered to carnal desires and sinful fantasies and touched on every fetish or kink imaginable. Voyeurism, domination, the dungeon, group sex, and the classic ménage à trois were among the most favored playrooms. There were floor-to-ceiling mirrors in most of the lounges, large, plush couches for lovers to enjoy, a free-for-all edible body painting event, and a sex-toy shop complete with all the latest sexual gadgets. In keeping with safe sex, there were bowls of condoms everywhere, and guests weren't shy about plucking up a handful as they passed.

She recognized a few of the operators she worked with, scantily clad in some of the most risqué outfits Liz had ever seen, making her feel overdressed in comparison. Some of those women were bold enough to flirt blatantly with Steve in front of her and let him know they were game for anything. More than a few times, Liz experienced a flash of jealousy and had to force herself to tamp down that green-eyed monster while Steve played along with their charade, flashing a charming smile and using their attention to his advantage to ask casually where they could find Trixie Lane.

They quickly learned that Trixie was a popular party girl, and very elusive.

As the evening progressed, the playrooms rapidly filled up with eager participants, and the atmosphere throughout the mansion changed from casual to hedonistic pleasure being the main objective, and there were many who didn't care where the sex took place. She and Steve remained in the bar area, with a large dance floor that was filled to capacity. The heavy, sensual beat of the music inspired a lot of bumping and grinding, and embraces that were as intimate as the dance of sex itself.

Drinks flowed freely, loosening inhibitions, and more than once Liz felt the pass of a hand over her bottom and along her thighs as the guests grew more aggressive despite the fact that she was clearly with Steve. The crush of bodies on the dance floor grew overwhelming, and when she told Steve that she needed fresh air, he didn't hesitate to take her out onto the adjoining balcony. Unfortunately, they weren't alone as Liz had hoped; other lovers apparently had exactly the same idea.

Steve leaned against the wrought-iron railing and pulled her to him so she stood between his thighs, their bellies and thighs aligned. He stroked his hands down her bare back, let his palms gently caress her bottom, and nuzzled her neck.

"You're completely wound up," he said, obviously feeling the tension thrumming through her. "Are you ready to go?"

Liz bit back a moan as Steve's warm, soft mouth opened on her throat. She didn't want to give up so soon, but they'd been at The Ultimate Fantasy for over two hours, and she was beginning to think their search for Trixie was going to end up being fruitless. She also felt extremely out of place among the couples who were growing increasingly more physical with one another. Just mere feet away on a lounge chair, two women and a man were going at it hot and heavy, clothes were being shed, and there was no doubt in Liz's mind how that threesome was going to end up.

"Lucky guy," Steve said, his tone warm with amusement as he, too, watched the erotic scene unfolding next to them.

One woman straddled the man's bare torso and leaned into him, offering her breast to his mouth, while the other party girl lowered the zipper on his pants, released his burgeoning shaft, and gave him a blow job.

Mutual moans of pleasure echoed out on the balcony, and Liz's breathing deepened and her skin felt flushed. Steve rolled his hips against hers, fitting his erection in the notch between her thighs, and Liz was shocked to realize that she was wet and highly aroused. It was like watching an X-rated movie, but live and in person.

She tried to look away, but Steve wouldn't let her.

"If they're doing it out here in front of everyone, there's nothing wrong with watching and letting it turn you on," he said, his hot breath teasing her ear just as his fingers teased the backs of her thighs, opening them wider so he could exert a more illicit pressure against her aching sex.

The trio was switching positions, with the man lying flat on his back. One woman sank down on his cock and rode him with abandon, while the other rode his mouth, which allowed the two party girls to pleasure each other as well.

Liz decided she'd seen more than enough, and just as she opened her mouth to tell Steve that she wanted to leave and finish their own twosome somewhere private and alone, they were interrupted.

"I hate to break, the mood, lovers," a husky feminine voice purred from behind Liz, "but I heard you were asking for Trixie Lane."

Steve's entire demeanor changed instinctively, shifting from amorous to aware in a heartbeat. He straightened and moved Liz so she was standing by his side instead of in front of him, though he still held her hand in his.

The gorgeous, voluptuous redhead wearing a nearly see-through black dress touched a hand to the swell of her breasts and smiled at Steve-a very practiced come-hither smile that no man, or woman, could mistake.

Whoever this woman was, she wanted Steve.

"And you are…?" Steve drawled pleasantly.

"The woman you're apparently looking for." Trixie ignored Liz and gave Steve an appreciative once-over, her eyes alight with interest. Apparently liking what she saw, she extended a more intimate invitation. "Why don't you come with me, alone, and we'll talk about what I can do for you."

A blatant solicitation if Liz ever heard one, from the one woman who could give them the information they so desperately needed.

With an artful, seductive toss of her cascading tresses, Trixie turned and walked back through the balcony's French doors, slender hips swaying, confident in knowing the effect she had on the opposite sex, since most were ogling her as she strolled away. She glanced one last time over her shoulder and crooked her finger at Steve, beckoning him to follow.

His jaw clenched, and the frustrated look he shot Liz told her that he was torn between staying and going. This was the lead they'd come here for, and while Liz couldn't bring herself to give him the verbal okay he seemed to be waiting for, they both knew what he had to do.

"Shit," he said, clearly unhappy about the turn of events. "I'll be right back." He strode after Trixie, pursuing her through the throng of people gathered inside the bar and dance area.

Liz followed at a discreet distance, watching from afar as Trixie headed up to the second floor, where the playrooms were located. She stopped at the top of the stairs and waited for Steve to join her. A sinful smile curved the other woman's lips when he arrived. Trixie leaned toward Steve, much too close for Liz's liking, said something in his ear, then sashayed down a hallway.

Liz's stomach knotted when Steve hesitated only a few seconds before following. Liz definitely did not want to know how Steve planned to extract the information he needed from Trixie Lane-or what the other woman might expect from him in return.

God, she needed a drink.

"You look like you could use a drink."

Startled by the comment that echoed her exact thoughts, Liz glanced up at the blond-haired, good-looking guy who'd issued the statement, and wondered if she looked as desperate and devastated as she felt.

Seeing no harm in accepting his offer, she summoned a smile and said, loud enough for him to hear over the music, "I'd love a glass of Chardonnay."

He returned with her drink minutes later, and she took a huge gulp of the liquid, then another.

"Thank you," she said, immediately feeling the warm, calming effects of the wine.

"You're welcome. The name's John. Care to dance?" He hooked a finger toward the crowded dance floor.

She was beginning to feel relaxed and tingly, and decided there was no harm in enjoying a fast song with John. It would certainly keep her mind off of whatever Steve and Trixie were doing upstairs. And it wasn't Steve she was worried about; it was Trixie Lane and her feminine wiles and how she chose to wield them that concerned her the most.

"Sure, why not?" She finished off her Chardonnay and let him pull her into the crush of gyrating bodies.

As she moved to the beat of the music, her body grew hot, her skin much too tight and sensitive. Her nipples tingled, and an insistent throbbing gathered low in her belly between her thighs, the pressure gradually building with every second that passed. She felt sexually charged, feverish, needy in a way she couldn't seem to control.

John smiled knowingly, and he was suddenly reaching for her, pulling her to him, his eyes heavy-lidded with lust as his hands began to roam over her curves. Lost m a sea of bodies, with her mind spinning and her nerves prickling with too many stimuli, she seemed helpless to resist him. Helpless to stop the urgent hunger building, building, building within her.

Confusion and a strong sense of foreboding mingled, making her heart beat fast in her chest. God, what was happening to her? Then the answer came to her in smaI1 degrees…her drink, she realized. Someone must have put something in her wine.

Another person aligned himself behind her, and it took her fog-induced mind longer than normal to register that she was deliberately sandwiched between two hard, undeniably aroused male bodies. The two men rubbed agai^nst her, grasping her hips, stroking up her thighs. A tongue touched her shoulder, and she shuddered in revulsion. She felt frantic and out of her element, her inhibitions slowly being stripped away by whatever she'd consumed.

"Let's take her up to one of the playrooms," she heard John say to the other man, and she shook her head and uttered the word, "No," but her small voice was lost in the loud music.

Then she was being tugged through the crowd of dancers. Apprehension and fear welled up in her when she realized what these two men intended. She tried to pull out of their grasp but knew she was no match for their strength, not with her mind and body feeling so hot, so lethargic, so hypersensitive.

They cleared the bar area and were brought up short by Steve, who was coming down the stairs from the upper level. Liz could have wept with relief… until she caught sight of the red-haired beauty who was standing by his side, an extremely smug and satisfied expression on her face. Vaguely Liz wondered what was worse-seeing Steve and Trixie together and imagining all the things they'd done together upstairs, or being groped by two strangers intent on slaking their own lust with her.

Steve's gaze narrowed on the two men flanking her, each of whom was holding one of her arms. "Where are you going with her?" he demanded.

"It's none of your business," John said, and started past him.

Steve planted a hand in the center of the man's chest, stopping him midstride. His smile was positively feral. "I'm making it my business, buddy," he said in a low, dangerous tone of voice that immediately loosened the man's grip on her arm. "I paid for the night with her, and unless she's consented to accompany the two of you, she's mine." His gaze shifted to Liz, and beyond the protective, possessive emotion, she detected his contrition for leaving her alone and so vulnerable to someone else's advance.

Liz shook her head wildly, which only made her dizzier. "No. No, I didn't consent to anything," she croaked, her mouth feeling as dry as dust.

"Find yourselves another playmate, boys," Steve said, and both John and the other man let her go.

The two men backed away, not happy with the turn of events but obviously unwilling to test Steve, either. Seconds later, they disappeared back into the bar area, most likely to find themselves another woman to enjoy.

Steve's gaze searched hers, silently asking if she was okay, but before he could verbally express his concern, Trixie stole away his attention.

"You were the easiest money I've made in a long time, sugar," Trixie murmured seductively, and caressed a hand down Steve's chest, all the way to the waistband of his slacks. "It was a pleasure doing business with you."

Liz glared at her, tamping down the impulse to claw the other woman's eyes out with her bright-red nails. Unfortunately, her furious mood was lost on Trixie, whose gaze remained on Steve.

The smile Trixie bestowed upon Steve was just as intimate as her touch. "If you and your date are interested in a threesome, come to me first and I'll show you both a good time," she said, then sauntered away and mingled her way back into the party atmosphere.

The emotions rippling through Liz ranged from indignation and jealousy to the more prominent sexual sensations still vibrating along her nerve endings. She tried to ignore the latter, even though her blood felt on fire, her sex aching for release, her nipples hard and peaked.

Despite her physical condition, she managed to say to him, "If that's what you're into, count me out."

"I'm a one-woman kind of man," he said, and shrugged. "I'm old-fashioned that way."

Swallowing hard, she took a step back, out of his reach, feeling raw and insecure and provoked. "Oh, really? So old-fashioned that you'd slip off with the redhead upstairs and leave your date behind?"

He lifted a brow at her cutting tone and uncalled-for remark, but she turned and walked away before he could reply. With her body buzzing and her head in no better shape, she had no idea where she was headed, but that didn't seem to matter when Steve curled his fingers around her upper arm and guided her into a lounge area next to the bar and dance floor.

The music from the bar drifted into the room, and the lighting from the fringed Tiffany lamps made the room dim and sensually shadowed. Everything was decorated in velvet: the heavy drapes, couches, chairs, pillows, and even the artwork on the wall.

"The Velvet Room," it was appropriately named. The couples around them, and what they were doing, ended up being a blur as Steve led her to a secluded corner of the room, turned her around, and pressed her up against the wall, which was textured with velvet wallpaper, too.

He flattened his hands on either side of her head, leaned close so she could see the heat in his eyes-and the frustration, as if he couldn't understand her reaction and was hurt that she'd doubt him. She opened her mouth to apologize, to tell him that whatever kind of drug she'd been slipped was making her irrational, as well as making her feel incredibly aroused and needy, but he cut her off before she could explain.

"What I just did upstairs with Trixie was all business," he said gruffly. Skimming his lips along her jaw, he pinned her hips to the wall with the slow grind of his and said into her ear, "I haven't so much as thought of another woman since I laid eyes on you. You give me everything I need sexually, and then some."

She closed her eyes and moaned, his words escalating her desire. The hard, long length of his shaft pressing against her mound increased her hunger to have him filling her full, stroking her, giving her the orgasm her body was beginning to scream for.

"Do you want to know what Trixie and I did in that room upstairs?"

She shook her head and slipped her hands to the waistband of his pants, her breath quickening at the thought of releasing him from the confines of his slacks and taking him in her hand, her mouth. "No, I don't want to know." She trusted him. She really, truly did. It was her state of mind that was playing tricks on her, making her imagine the worst. She felt as though she were on an emotional and physical roller coaster ride with no end in sight.

"I'm going to tell you anyway," he said, and lifted his head to stare into her eyes. The room was dark, but their gazes had no problem connecting. "I gave Trixie two hundred bucks, and all she gave me was Rob's last name and a bunch of other information that'll go a long way in tracking him and your cousin. Trixie was Rob's last lover, and she apparently knows him well."

Okay, she was eternally grateful for that assurance, and now that Steve had eased her insecurities, there was something more pressing she needed to attend to, no matter that there were other couples in the room with them. Most were too busy with their own pleasure to pay attention to anything else going on around them.

Reaching between their bodies, Liz unbuckled his belt, but before she could pull the tab of his zipper down, he stopped her.

He sucked in a startled breath. "Damn it, Liz, what are you doing?" he growled huskily.

She nipped at his jaw and cupped him in her palm through the fabric of his slacks, massaging the impressive length of him with her fingers. "Someone put something in my drink, and I'm burning up. I need you inside me. Here. Now."

He swore beneath his breath, his body tensing protectively, possessively, and she knew he was thinking about hunting down those two men and beating the shit out of them.

Right now, Liz had something else in mind for those wonderful hands of his. Catching his wrist, she slid his palm beneath the hem of her dress and determinedly guided his fingers upward, past the lacy band of her stockings. "Steve… touch me."

She groaned and trembled when he slipped two fingers beneath the edge of her panties and into the hot, wet folds of her pulsing sex and stroked her engorged flesh. She came immediately, biting her bottom lip as her release slammed through her in a pounding rush of sensation that nearly overwhelmed her with the pleasure of it.

But that one orgasm wasn't enough. Not when she could already feel a second one waiting in the wings, another wave of heat building, slowly cresting to a peak of desire.

"Steve, please," she begged.

He lifted his dark head and stared deep into her eyes as his fingers, wet from her, skimmed up to her hip and tugged on the side ties of her panties. "Please what?" he asked, his tone low and rough.

This particular fantasy had turned dark and forbidden, a naughty, shameless tryst that surprisingly turned her on, beyond the stimulant she'd been given. There was no reason to couch what she wanted and needed in a flowery request. Right now, she needed a hard, fast coupling for the pure sake of satisfaction.

"Fuck me," she whispered. A plea. A dare.

His restraint shattered, and instead of releasing the second tie on her panties, he ripped them off her hips, then shoved the scrap of fabric into his coat pocket. In a heartbeat, he released his shaft, plucked a foil packet from the bowl on the table next to them, and rolled the condom on.

Then he was back, curling his fingers under her bare bottom, pulling her forward, spreading her legs, and lifting her all in one smooth motion. Her thighs clamped against his hips, and he shoved forward, entering her in a long, hard thrust that impaled her to the hilt. The cry that escaped her throat was lost in the pulsating beat of the music drifting into the velvet room from the bar area.

With Steve standing in front of her, and with the dim lighting, all anyone could see was a couple in an erotic embrace, if they could see anything at all in the dark corner Steve had chosen. Anyone could imagine exactly what they were doing, but they were completely and decently covered-by her dress and the jacket he wore.

Which made the encounter that much more exciting.

She anchored her arms around his neck, locked her ankles against the small of his back, and felt the powerful muscles in his arms, along his shoulders, and in his buttocks Hex as he pumped into her. She welcomed this primal side to Steve, the way he could so easily lose control with her.

Burying her face in the curve of his neck, she inhaled his hot male scent. She bit his earlobe, dipped her tongue into his ear, and felt the clench of her inner muscles around his shaft as another orgasm beckoned.

"Oh, God," she rasped into his ear, poised on the brink of tumbling over yet another exquisite peak. "I'm going to come again."

"Yes." His breathing was hot and moist against her throat, labored; and with a hard, convulsive shudder, he let go and went over himself.

When the tempest was over, she sagged against him, felt him shift with her still in his arms, then gently lowered her feet back to the floor.

He met her gaze and tenderly brushed tendrils of hair off her cheek. "We got the information we came for, so let's get the hell out of here."

She couldn't agree with him more.