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 against 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
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.'
