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Fearless
Anyone worth doing is worth doing in sexy shoes.
Thinking and plotting while surrounded by supportive friends was a hell of a lot more fun than standing alone, ready to launch the plan.
And while passing out at a guy’s feet could get a girl some welcome attention, Gia was pretty sure throwing up was nowhere to be found in the Girlz Guide to Seducing a Hottie. She pressed one hand against her churning stomach, wondering how long she had before she was the first of her friends to inspire a new don’t list.
Curling her toes into her sexy red leather Giuseppe Zanotti peeptoes, she forced her feet to stay still instead of hightailing it out of the nightclub.
Maybe this was a crazy idea. She wasn’t seductive like Jessa or wild like Sara and didn’t even have a fraction of Caryn’s confidence. Yet here she was, trying to pretend she was all that and a cherry on top.
A couple deep breaths got her past the hostess desk and to the entrance of The Bank Nightclub.
The rockin’ vibe of the place actually took the edge off her nerves. The idea of getting out there, moving to the beat, just losing herself in the lights and crowd, held tremendous appeal. Music pounded a hard, fast invitation. Lights flashed to the beat. Even filled with people, the nightclub was so well laid out it didn’t seem crowded. Instead it was inviting, fun and the perfect setting for her fantasy seduction.
She wanted to dance. She really did. But she couldn’t make her feet move.
“Hello, gorgeous,” drawled a friendly voice at her shoulder.
Well, that made her move. Gia damn near jumped out of her shoes. With a deep breath, she turned to brush the guy off, then pressed her lips together to keep from groaning aloud.
Holy crap. Mark Lane from Marketing.
Seriously?
She’d been here less than five minutes, and she was already busted.
Then she caught sight of her reflection in the mirrored wall behind Mark and blinked. That really was her?
Thanks to extensions and Feria, her hair was a flowing mass of titian waves instead of her usual chestnut swing. Brown contacts, a painful squeeze of her credit card at the MAC counter and the removal of her lip ring ensured she didn’t look anything like her usual techie self.
Her body, poured into a little black dress, the glittery fabric hugging curves made all the curvier by her Bombshell bra, had never looked this way at the Monday-morning meetings.
But was it a good enough disguise?
Did Mark recognize her? Other than a few casual comments at the lunch counter, they weren’t pals. But still…
If she could fool him, she promised herself, she’d be able to nail this fantasy. And then, she hoped, she’d get to nail Luke Monroe, too.
“Hi,” she greeted with a smile that was more a twitch of her lips than her usual full-on grin. She watched him carefully, as if he were a time bomb that could explode all over her life at any second.
Her fingers itched for the phone that wasn’t in her purse, wishing she could warn Caryn to be ready to spin some damage control. If Mark outed her, within minutes everyone at Tri-Solutions would be tweeting, texting and posting on Facebook. Soon the sad, humiliating tale of that time Gia Renyard pretended she had what it took to be a bombshell in Vegas would go viral. She’d be mocked and laughed at for years.
Panic slid down her throat with greasy fingers and fear crawled through her belly. Tiny white dots spun in front of her eyes until Gia realized she was holding her breath. She let it out in a huff, then forced her lips into a stiff, slightly painful smile. It wasn’t as though he’d caught her using Luke as a stripper’s pole.
“I’m Mark.” He offered his hand.
Her body almost hit the floor as tension poured away.
He didn’t know who she was.
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
“Are you local?” he asked. “Or are you just visiting?”
Like every other guy she’d ever known, instead of waiting for a response, he launched into a soliloquy about himself. Where he was from, why he was here, how cool the CES show had been.
Gia was too excited to care.
He really didn’t know who she was.
He didn’t recognize her.
She would have jumped up and down in delight, but there was a serious danger that her boobs would fly right out of their Bombshell bra. Which would probably make it harder to get rid of the guy.
Not that he was a creep. And he was good-looking. A little more metro than masculine, he gave a smile that was pure flirtation, and the interest in his eyes was genuine. But he wasn’t Luke.
And it was Luke she was here to do.
“Looking for a dance partner?” Mark said, tilting his head toward the dance floor, then after a second tilting it the other way toward the exit and giving his brows a wiggle.
Oh, cool. Because girls just loved tacky euphemisms. His smile was suggestive as he gave her another once-over. He ended the inspection with a wink, as if his approval were something she’d been standing there waiting to get.
Gia barely resisted rolling her eyes.
“Thanks, but I’m waiting for someone,” she finally said, keeping her words husky and low.
“A hot babe like you shouldn’t be waiting. You come dance with me, teach that guy not to take you for granted.”
“Sorry.” She softened the refusal with a smile but still shook her head.
With a look that assured her she didn’t know what she was missing and an easygoing shrug, Mark slipped around her and headed toward easier game.
She waited until he’d wrapped his arm around a leggy brunette before giving a quick happy dance. He’d totally fallen for her disguise. It was as if he’d flipped the switch. Suddenly, she wasn’t Gia with all the hang-ups and self-doubts. She was Giavanna, or Vanna, as the Girlz had dubbed her. Sexy, confident and ready for the wildest sexual adventure of her life.
Unfrozen now, her feet guided her to the bar.
Now to find her fantasy partner.
Her room was upstairs, in easy luring distance.
She’d bought every sex toy or teasing temptation she could think of.
She’d been waxed, polished and buffed to her body’s all-time best.
And now she’d passed the incognito test.
So this was it.
She was ready to make her weekend fantasy into a deliciously wicked reality.
All she needed was Luke.
Vegas was man-land on steroids.
Booze, babes and buffets. It didn’t get much better than this.
Beer in hand, Luke Monroe looked around The Bank, the hottest nightspot in the Bellagio. It was like a modern playground for the wild and horny. He was used to good-looking women, but here they had a sexy edge that screamed kinky good times with none of that “morning-after respect” drama.
“Dude, it’s like my dreams in Technicolor,” Matt Jones said as he sidled up to the bar, giving Luke a punch to the shoulder. “I don’t know what I want to do more. Hit the dance floor, find a babe and snag one of those VIP booths or head back to the craps table so I can win enough to pay for something immoral and illegal in a few states.”
“You know what I like about you? You don’t let that ugly face of yours get in the way of your sex life.” Luke grinned.
“Hey, I work hard to look this good. I owe it to the ladies to share what I’ve got going on, ya know.” Matt rubbed one finger over his carefully trimmed goatee, his teeth flashing against his dark skin. “Unlike you, who does jack but still has women throwing themselves in your path.”
Luke shrugged. Women had been throwing themselves at him since they were little girls wearing pigtails and he was more interested in collecting Pokémon cards than females. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate his luck with the ladies, but he wouldn’t mind having to prove himself and work for the attention once in a while. The male ego was a funny thing. Too much success and it started whispering sneaky things about luck, riding on a rep and unworthiness.
“You ready for the show tomorrow? Nervous about schmoozing with a hundred thousand or so people?”
“Nah. Tri-Solutions has a good product. It’s easy to talk up.” So easy he was getting bored. Which was why he was considering the offer from Kettlemens. Luke could handle a lot of things, but boredom wasn’t one of them.
“You take that job with Kettlemens and you’ll be traveling for a living.” Matt tossed back the last of his Jack and Coke, then shook his head in admiration. “Traveling across the country setting up digital systems in all their branches, training their trainers. That’d be the life.”
Hotel beds, jet lag and no time to spend his big fat raise.
Damn. Luke winced. What was wrong with him?
He had a sweet life.
He knew guys like Matt looked at him and figured he had it all. He was flying up the ladder to success three or four rungs at a time. He drove a BMW, owned a condo in the Presidio and, yeah, there was the luck with the ladies.
It was all easy.
Maybe too easy.
He was bored. Bored with his job, bored with himself. Hell, he was even bored with his sex life.
He didn’t want to leave Tri-Solutions or San Francisco. But the Kettlemens offer was looking better and better, if only for something different to do.
“Oh, baby.”
Ditching the downer thinking at Matt’s growl, Luke looked over his shoulder to see what the guy was staring at.
And damn near dropped his beer.
Oh, baby, indeed.
Now, there was something different.
She was gorgeous.
Long hair in a shade of red too vivid to be real slicked over her shoulders to bracket a glittering mini dress that barely concealed her ample curves. Legs so long they could wrap around his shoulders were sleek and slender, all the way down to a pair of red do-me heels that made him finally understand the whole deal with foot fetishes. Despite her sexy look, she didn’t have a hooker vibe. There was something sweet about her, like an angel dressed in devil’s duds. Luke ripped his gaze from her shoes, taking his time sliding back up over those gorgeous curves. He finally reached her face. It was just as enticing as the rest of the package.
Their eyes met.
He felt a zing that shot across the twenty feet separating them, through his body and straight south.
“So hot,” Matt murmured in appreciation.
“Smoking,” he agreed.
“And it looks like she’s got her sights set on you, friend.”
Since her eyes were roaming his body as though she’d like to strip it naked and see what he was made of, Luke didn’t bother denying the obvious.
He’d much rather help her accomplish that particular goal.
“You’re on your own,” he told his friend, starting to shift through the crowd toward the sexy redhead.
“Reel her in,” Matt called with a laugh, no doubt in his tone that Luke would do just that.
“Consider it done.”
It wasn’t ego talking. It was determination.
As if sensing his resolve, people cleared the path between Luke and the redhead without him having to nudge anyone out of his way. In less than ten seconds, he was close enough to see that her eyes were brown, her necklace was an infinity symbol and her lipstick had sparkles in it.
“Hello,” he greeted, surprised to see how delicate and petite she was close up. From across the room, she’d seemed larger-than-life. Like a beacon shining bright in the night sky, drawing him closer, pulling him in.
“Hi,” she returned, her voice a husky purr easily heard even over the loud club noise.
“I’m Luke.”
“Gi—Um, Vanna,” she offered, her words almost a stutter. She wrinkled her nose like a cute bunny, then shrugged and tried again. “I’m Vanna. Nice to meet you.”
“Do you come here often?”
Her big brown eyes rounded in surprise before she gave an uninhibited snort of laughter.
“Do you use lines like that often?” she returned.
“Hey, sometimes the classics are best,” he said with a grin.
“What other classics are you partial to?” she asked, sipping her martini.
“I’d try ‘Haven’t we met before?’ since there’s something hauntingly familiar about you, but if we’d met, I’m sure I’d remember.”
He wasn’t sure what caused the alarm in her eyes, but whatever it was quickly passed. So quick he thought maybe he’d imagined it.
“I’d hate to think I was forgettable,” she shot back, her smile teasing. “Or that that particular line actually works for you.”
Actually, lines were used on him a lot more often than he tossed them out. But he didn’t think his telling her that and sounding like a cocky ass was going to make the impression he was hoping for.
“Vanna, you’re a lot of things. Beautiful, sexy, intriguing. But forgettable doesn’t make the list,” he said, his tone flirtatious and his smile just this side of wicked.
Her eyes flashed. Luke’s smile dimmed. Was that hurt? Once again the look was gone too fast for him to be sure.
Curiouser and curiouser.
“Can I buy you a drink?” he offered.
She lifted one brow and then her hand to show off her glass. The same one she’d been holding all along.
So much for reeling her in. Luke grimaced, offering an apologetic shrug. “I’m usually smoother than this.”
“Yeah? What’s got you roughing it tonight?”
Her.
There was something intriguing, almost confusing, about her. She was familiar, but he’d swear he’d never seen her before. She dressed like a modern-day version of a ’40s bombshell movie star.
And she looked at him as if she wanted to suck Jell-O shots off his body, but she wasn’t making the typical moves.
Yeah. Totally intriguing.
“Maybe I’m having an off night,” he finally said in answer to her question. “Or maybe I’m not very good with women.”
She laughed hard, then bit her lip as if trying to hold back her amusement in case it offended him. She took a deep breath and, with her smile still wide, shook her head.
“No,” she said simply.
The music changed, slowing.
Perfect.
“Dance?”
She gave him a long, probing look at odds with her sexy persona. Then, as if she’d found whatever she was searching for, she set her drink on an empty table and took his hand.
Luke led her down the steps to the glossy floor, letting the crowd push them together as he took her into his arms, his hands sliding along her slender waist.
Her hands curled into his shoulders, her nails biting for just a second. Then she smoothed them higher to cup the sides of his neck.
Luke let the music and the noise of the crowd wash over them for a minute, focusing on their bodies. Their movements were perfectly in sync. As if she could sense his timing, match his rhythm.
He wanted her.
Desire wasn’t a new feeling. But desire this intense, bordering on craving…that was unfamiliar.
“So what brings you here?” he asked, needing a distraction from the demands his body was trying to make. Demands that’d have them both naked and putting on a floor show pretty damned soon.
“Here, where? To Vegas? To the Bellagio? Or to the club?” she clarified.
“All of the above.”
“Actually, I’m here to live out a little fantasy,” she spoke so quietly that her words were almost lost in the music.
“Yeah? What kind of fantasy?”
Her eyes were endless, with lush lashes so thick they were like a fringe and so much emotion in them that Luke felt as if he were drowning.
Emotion usually made him run. But whatever was going on with Vanna had him hooked.
She wet her lips, a quick swipe of her pink tongue over that glossy red.
Luke’s temperature spiked.
Horny as hell.
“Actually, my fantasy is of a sexual nature,” she told him, a flash of nerves in her big brown eyes before her gaze locked on his mouth.
The nerves, as much as the fact that her stare was like a caress over his lips, were a major turn-on.
“You don’t say. Is this a fantasy you’d care to share?”
“Maybe. With the right guy.”
“What’s it take to qualify?” Whatever it was, he’d do it.
“Imagination, boldness and the ability to follow directions top the list,” she said. Then, as if testing the strength of the passion between them, she shifted closer so her full breasts brushed his chest. “What do you think? Are you up for the job?”
His body hitting a flame hotter than he’d ever felt with clothes on, Luke grinned at the woman in his arms.
“Babe, I’m all yours,” he promised.
“You sure? Because I have a pretty specific outline of what I want.” Her words were light and teasing, and her eyes were hot and promising. But he could feel her fingers tremble against the back of his neck.
Luke’s hands swept down, cupping her hips so his fingers could curl along the sweet curve of her ass. He pulled her closer, bringing her body flush against his.
Her breath caught, doing amazing things to the glittery fabric of her bodice. The stare she gave him was part enticement, part hope. Luke wasn’t sure which was the bigger turn-on.
“I’m pretty good at implementing plans, as long as you’re open to a little initiative on my part,” he told her.
“Hmm, what kind of initiative?” A small smile played at the corners of her mouth and her eyes danced in delight.
Figuring he’d rather speak in actions than words, Luke leaned down. His eyes never left hers as he brushed his lips in a whisper-soft caress of her mouth.
“That kind, maybe,” he said when he straightened.
She stared, her eyes glazed with passion and her lower lip trembling just a little.
Then she gave a shaky breath and shook her head as if trying to clear it.
“I’m sorry. I can barely hear you in here,” she apologized, tilting her head toward one of the speakers surrounding the glassed-in dance floor.
“You want to go somewhere else?” he suggested. “We can talk.”
Her eyes were like smoke, hazed with desire and promise. Her lips curved, full and juicy, as if begging him to take a bite.
She gave a soft moan that he felt rather than heard. Then, untwining her fingers from the back of his neck, she slid her hands over his shoulders and down his chest, her nails scraping his nipples.
Going rock hard with just the flick of those fingers, Luke almost growled.
He didn’t have to hear her giggle to know she liked his reaction. The delighted look on her face said it all.
Then, giving him a wink and a tilt of her head toward the exit, she stepped away from his body. For a second, he wanted to pull her back. He wanted her closer. Tight against him.
She took a deep breath that did more amazing things to that dress, then slid her small hand into his and led him from the floor and out of the club.
Well, then.
Boredom definitely wasn’t an issue anymore.
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