Kimberly Lang

What Happens in Vegas…


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nodded, and Nick headed back in her direction as the bartender set their drinks in front of her.

      “What was that about?” she asked, as Nick handed her a drink, took her other hand and picked up his own glass.

      “You’ll see.”

      They approached the stairs and the bouncer standing there looked rather ferocious from up close. Without saying anything, he reached behind him, unhooked a velvet rope and waved them past.

      The noise of the bar receded as they climbed the stairs to the second floor and walked down a dimly lit corridor past several closed doors. Nick finally stopped in front of one marked simply Six.

      The door swung open easily, and curious, Evie stepped inside. A large window covered one wall, giving an unobstructed view of the stage and dance floor from above, and two leather-covered sofas were arranged in front of it. It was a small, intimate room with low lighting.

      And privacy.

      Her heart skipped a beat and she moved to the window. “This is one of those VIP rooms, isn’t it?”

      Nick nodded as he closed the door behind him. Evie heard it snick into place, and the muscles in her thighs tightened.

      “It is—a small one, though. Usually they’re a bit bigger. This one is designed for small business meetings as opposed to parties.” The thick carpeting muffled his footsteps as he moved across the room toward her.

      “And we managed to get it how?” Forming words was very difficult, and she was pleased she wasn’t stuttering.

      “I know the bouncer minding the rope. Dave owes me a favor, and since this room wasn’t being used at the moment…”

      Wow. They’d been told to get a room and now they had one. Evangeline Harrison—the one who went to nice dinners at the Club and smiled her way through cocktail-party fundraisers—reeled in shock. The Evie she’d rediscovered tonight shivered at the possibilities.

      “That panel to your left controls the speakers—you’ll be able to hear the band once they start up again.”

       Who cared about the stupid band?

      “And that—” he pointed to what looked like a key fob to a luxury car on the table “—signals for a server. They won’t enter unless you call for them.”

      Nick was only an arm’s length away, and his intent was obvious. But he didn’t take the last step that would close the gap. She guessed he was leaving that up to her. Suddenly, she felt gauche and naive and unsure of herself. “Wow, they think of everything.”

      Her hands were starting to tremble from the proximity and the need to touch him, and her drink sloshed over the rim. Nick held out his hand, and she handed him the glass. He set it on the table and held his hand out again.

      There was a clear path to the door. She could push a button and have someone in here in just another minute.

      It was her choice.

      This time she placed her hand in his and welcomed the electricity that arced through her. One small step, and those strong arms closed around her, and the fire in her belly pulled the oxygen from her lungs. She required no encouragement at all to pull his head down to hers.

      That hunger she’d felt earlier roared back to life full force, causing her to sway dangerously on her feet, and Nick’s arms tightened, steadying her.

      One hot kiss melded into another as her greedy hands traced over the contours of his back, learning the musculature. Nick’s hands massaged the small of her back, sliding under the hem of her shirt to scorch her skin as his lips slid down her neck and his tongue dipped into the hollow behind her collarbone.

      How they covered the short distance to the couch, she didn’t know, but then Nick was easing her down and moving over her.

      Evie wanted to cry at the exquisite sensation of Nick’s body on hers, the heavy weight of him settling between her legs. The cool leather of the couch was such a contrast to the scorching heat of his skin. This was heaven; this was bliss and she wanted 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