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craps table, where he lost a small fortune trying to teach her how to play, then watched her

happily lose a small fortune, too. All the while she sipped on an endless glass of wine and

proceeded to drive him crazy by easing against his body with more and more familiarity.

Toward the end, she got on a roll at the craps table and proceeded to win back her losses.

He, on the other hand, was in too deep to try to recoup. But everyone at the table got caught up in Jane’s gusto—and her cleavage—and cheered her on, raking in their winnings after every roll.

Every time she leaned over the table to toss the dice, she backed into him, tucking her

shapely rear against his cock, which seemed to be operating on a spring tonight. When his

arousal met her resistance, she pressed back harder, filling his head with images of pulling her skirt up and her panties down and taking her right there, heedless of the crowd. At this point, he probably wouldn’t last longer than a schoolboy anyway.

By the time her luck ran out, he was gritting his teeth against the lust pumping through his

body, and ready to punch the guys standing around giving him knowing glances.

“What now?” Jane asked, turning around and smiling up at him with the fervor and

fuzziness of a coed who’d had a little too much to drink.

He wet his lips. “What did you have in mind?”

She held up the cash she’d won. “Let’s go to a show.”

His erection shrank as he envisioned taking in a lounge act. “What kind of show?”

Jane walked over to a rack of brochures sitting against the wall and plucked one from its

slot, then walked back and handed it to him. “This kind of show.”

Perry glanced at the full color brochure and his eyes widened. “A male strip club?”

She lifted her hands. “I’ve never been to one.”

“Neither have I,” he said dryly.

“It sounds like fun.”

He begged to differ. When he’d told her he’d show her a good time, taking her to ogle

other naked men hadn’t been in his plans.

“Will you take me?” Jane asked, batting her lashes and reminding him that this weekend

was all about her needs, not his.

With resignation, Perry shrugged. “Sure.”

Chapter 12

When Perry had fantasized about Jane’s thighs pressing against his ears, he hadn’t

imagined she would be sitting on his shoulders, waving a ten dollar bill at a shirtless fireman dancing on stage and screaming, “Take it off!”

Gyrating to the pulsing music, the buff man waved his red hard hat at her, then in one

motion, ripped off his pants, revealing a thong with flames shooting up from the crotch. Perry rolled his eyes but the crowd near the stage went wild, Jane included, lurching forward with such momentum that he had to shift abruptly to keep them both from toppling.

He was pretty sure the woman had consumed more alcohol than her body had ever

processed before. He was doing his part to keep her on her feet—so to speak—by making her eat breadsticks and nachos to absorb the vodka in the green apple martinis she’d been tossing back.

After all, he had a vested interest in keeping her conscious. After nursing a hard-on for

most of the evening, he was hoping to spend the night in her bed.

But damn if it didn’t hurt his pride just a little to know that Fred the Fireman was priming

the pump.

“Take it all off!” she shouted, waving her fist in the air.

Fred strutted up and down the stage a few seconds longer to whip the crowd into a frenzy,

then stopped in front of Jane and pointed to a string on his thong for her to pull.

Perry frowned and straightened—that was a little bold, and he was sure Jane would refuse.

But to his amazement, she reached forward and plucked at the string, relieving the man of

the last scrap of fabric that separated the audience from his, uh, hose.

The crowd went wild, but Perry could only stare at the man’s penis with bewilderment. He

was getting paid to wag that beanie-weenie?

“Woo-hoo!” Jane yelled, squeezing Perry’s ears. “Shake that thang!”

He winced, holding on to her knees. After Cal the Construction worker, Jantzen the Jungle

guy, and Fred the Fireman, he wasn’t sure he could stand another session of a costumed dude

coming out on the runway and shaking his thang at a room full of women and gay men (present

company excluded) to some lame disco tune.

“About ready to call it a night?” he shouted up to Jane.

She leaned forward until her hair fell over his face, her upside down face nose to nose with

him. “Already?”

“‘Fraid so,” he said, straining to stay upright under her gymnastics. He crouched to lower

her close enough to the floor to dismount clumsily. When he stood, he rubbed his ringing ears, then hurried to tug down her skirt that was rucked up around her waist. She was too busy tossing dollar bills at naked Fred to notice. “Bye, Fred! Bye!”

Perry shepherded her outside and into a cab, then fell back against the seat, exhausted.

“Wasn’t that fun?” she asked, bouncing.

“Sure,” he said.

Jane frowned. “You didn’t like it?”

“Uh, watching men take off their clothes isn’t my favorite thing to do, Jane.”

“Be a sport. There were lots of other guys there.”

“News flash, dollface, they were gay.”

Her eyebrows flew up. “Really?”

“Really.”

She covered her mouth and laughed, then sobered. “Did you just call me dollface?”

“I did.” He picked up her hand. “I’m glad you had fun tonight.”

She giggled, a lilting sound that did funny things to his stomach. “The night’s not over,”

she said in a sing-songy voice.

Perry smiled and pulled her closer, then pushed his hands into her silky hair and curled his

fingers around her neck. How long had he wanted to do that?

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured before pulling her lips to his. He half expected her to

resist, but she didn’t, flicking her tongue out to taste him before opening her mouth to his. Then she went on the offensive, slashing her mouth over his and stabbing her tongue against his,

deepening the kiss with bites and moans. Before he realized what was happening, she twisted in the seat to straddle him.

Perry groaned—relief and anticipation to finally have her in his arms warred with the

knowledge that the cabbie was weaving in the street trying to get an eyeful. So even as Perry’s hands slid down to the warm bare skin exposed by her inadequate skirt, he wanted to shield her from the other man’s voyeuristic eyes.

And as much as he wanted to have sex with her right now—this instant, in fact—he

reminded himself that he’d followed Jane so she could spend the weekend with someone

different from the guys who would hump her in a cab.

“Whoa,” he said, pulling back and easing her off his lap while he still could.

“Did I do something wrong?” she asked.

“No,” he said quickly, pulling his hand down his face. “Please, hold that thought.” Then he

knocked on the Plexiglass divider to get the cabbie’s attention. “Hey, buddy, step on it, would you?” He kissed Jane again—this time more slowly and sweetly, then he put his arm around her

shoulder and held her against him, willing the taxi to take flight.

* * *

Jane’s head was spinning by the time they reached her hotel room door. She was still a

little woozy from the alcohol, but mostly from being with Perry all evening—the dinner, the

dancing, the gambling, then the strip club, and throughout, the underlying flirtation between them building…accumulating…mushrooming…

Her face burned when she thought of pressing her body against his arousal at every chance,

of wrapping her legs around his head to sit on his shoulders at the club, of straddling him in the taxi. Each encounter had set her on fire.

But it was when he had pulled her off his lap and tucked her head into his shoulder that

things had felt…wrong. Because in that moment she had realized that it would be too easy to fall for this surprising, sexy man. And now she was having second thoughts about that torrid affair, because she didn’t want to develop strings…

He helped her with the door key, reminding her of the morning after he’d said those things

about her, when she couldn’t see the lock because her eyes were scratchy and swollen from

crying and because she’d been wearing those stupid sunglasses. At that moment, she hadn’t

wanted him to be nice, hadn’t wanted him to apologize, because it was easier to think that he was a jerk than to think that he was human. Easier to dislike him than to…like him.

The door swung open into her suite, and even though the room was beautifully furnished

with sofa, chairs, tables, wardrobes, and electronics, her gaze was drawn to the king-size bed like a laser. Her pulse picked up and her chest itched from a sudden nerve rash. When he stepped up behind her and pulled her hair back to lower a kiss on her neck, she panicked.

“Perry,” she said, turning to face him.

The erotic look in his deep brown eyes, the sensual curve of his mouth almost stopped

her…the man was devastatingly handsome, and she had proof through her own walls that he was

a great lover. Being made love to by this man would no doubt be a physical revelation, but she needed to put some emotional distance between them in her head.

“I had a great time tonight,” she continued, “but maybe this is all happening too fast.”

He swallowed hard, then nodded and stepped back.

“I mean, we still have tomorrow,” she said quickly. “And…tomorrow night.”

Perry kept nodding. “Right.” He cleared his throat. “Tomorrow then.”

She stepped to the doorway. “Where are you staying?”

He pointed to the door next to hers. “Right here. A favor from the desk clerk.”

He gave her a crooked smile. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” she murmured, then slowly closed the door and leaned against it with a sigh.

It had been the most fun, exciting night of her life. Never in her wildest dreams had she

imagined spending the weekend with someone as handsome and sexy as Perry Brewer. She

walked into the bathroom, slipping off her sandals along the way. She paused in front of the

vanity mirror to remove her earrings, then stared at her unfamiliar reflection.

The stylists at the salon had worked miracles, coaxing a sexy beauty from the depths of a

plain Jane. The hair made the biggest difference, she conceded. Who knew she could carry off

the whitest platinum blond? And even though she’d tidied lots of brows herself, she wouldn’t

have believed that waxing and arching her own brows would have opened up her eyes so

dramatically and given her face an almost exotic expression.

And neither would she have believed that a simple sexy outfit would have uncovered her

figure, and given her the confidence to flirt. She pulled the silky fuchsia-colored blouse from the waistband of the mini-skirt and unbuttoned it, revealing the most decadent black lace bra she’d ever seen, much less owned.

She unzipped the skirt and stepped out of it, revealing the black edged hip-hugging pink

panties. She’d spent a week’s salary on the bra and panty set alone.

Such a shame that no one would see them.

She sighed and donned a short black robe, fastening the tie around her waist.

Then she padded back into the bedroom and glanced at the clock. 1:30 a.m. Ten minutes

ago she’d convinced herself she was ready to go to bed…alone. But now—

A noise caught her attention and she turned her head, then realized it had come from the

other side of the wall, from Perry’s room. He was still awake—was he restless? Regretting the fact that he’d followed her here? Laughing to himself that she hadn’t been able to back up her bold words about having a torrid affair?

Snatches of the sounds of his lovemaking that had penetrated her condo walls came back to

her…the woman shouting things, being driven out of control…But there had been no noises

from Perry—had his mouth been occupied?

She swallowed hard. The image of Perry’s head between her own legs tonight while she sat

on his shoulders at the club had been erotic enough. But the thought of his mouth at the juncture of her thighs sent moisture pooling there. No man had ever made love to her that way.

She picked up a drinking glass and held it to the wall, then put her ear to the end,

wondering if it conducted sound like she’d seen in the movies.

It did…some. She could hear him moving around, his footsteps, and a thud—him falling

into bed? The low murmur of conversation—the television, perhaps…or him talking on the

telephone? The vision of him sprawled on his bed, his long limbs bare and brown, made her

midsection tighten with desire. Was he a boxer man, or a briefs man? Or did he sleep in the

nude?

Jane lowered the glass, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She thought she’d be more

prepared to have sex with Perry by waiting another day, but what if the chemistry that they’d experienced today was gone tomorrow? Could she really expect it to get better than it had been tonight? After all, they were both ripe for each other now.

With her heart in her throat, she set down the glass and padded to her door.

Then before she could change her mind, she grabbed her room key, opened her door and

walked out into the hall to rap on Perry’s door.

A few seconds passed, then the door swung open, revealing Perry in hastily donned slacks,

considering they were zipped, but not buttoned. “Jane, is something wrong?”

Seeing his expanse of muscled chest reminded her of the first time she’d knocked on his

door, and old self-doubts threatened to tie her tongue. But hadn’t she come to Vegas to unleash her inner wild child? To do something…bad?

“I changed my mind,” she said, sounding stronger than she felt. “D-do you mind if I come

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