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She saw the slight lift of Mike's chin, his nostrils flaring as Denver pushed into her so hard the couch scooted a few inches across the floor. She whimpered from the pleasure of it, but it was Mike giving her that enjoyment. Did he know that? Did he feel what she was going through, realize that she wanted him so much she could feel his cock inside her when another man was fucking her? Denver didn't exist for her anymore. The other people watching weren't there. There was only Mike and her, and the sweet pulsing of her pussy around the cock inside her.
“Harder,” she said through gritted teeth, asking for more even though she couldn't take more. But she wasn't asking Denver for it. “I need you,” she pleaded. Did Mike understand? “Please.” She was panting now, mindless, wanting only the orgasm that hovered just out of her reach. “I need to come.” She gripped the fabric of the sofa, tightening her fingers around the pillows. “Please make me come.”
And yet knowing how much she needed it, feeling Denver behind her, she held back, unwilling to give it to anyone else. Denver growled against her back, shuddering as he orgasmed, pumping hard against her. She cried out as he lifted her with a punishing final thrust, then collapsed against her.
As soon as it was over, people filed out, onto the next activity, the next sex party— whatever thrilled them. Mike stayed, though. Denver pulled away, turned her around and kissed her forehead. “You're an amazing woman, Grace.”
She blinked her eyes closed for a second, then smiled up at him.
“Thank you Denver. For .. . everything.”
He winked. “Anytime, baby.” He stepped out, stopping in the outer room to speak to Mike. He'd pushed the audio button first so Grace couldn't hear what they were saying. Mike nodded a few times and Denver squeezed his shoulder, then left.
That's when she realized she and Mike were alone, realized what she'd done, the signals she'd sent out to him. She hadn't come at the end with Denver because she felt guilty about having sex with him. Because Mike wasn't the one giving her the orgasm and she wanted it with him.
No. No, no, no. She would not do this, to him or to herself. What was wrong with her? Anger boiled up inside her. Anger and guilt. And she hated guilt. She was never guilty, especially about sex. That's what she'd run away from all those years ago, and she was not going through it again.
No goddamn man was going to make her feel this way.
She pulled on her clothes and stormed from the room.

EIGHT

For a few moments, Mike stood frozen, unable to move.
Whether it was the visual of watching Grace get nicked by Den that held him immobile, or Denver's words after that or the fierce expression of fear mixed with anger on Grace's face, he didn't know. All he knew was that he needed to sort this out before he went after her. And he
was
going after her. They were going to get this figured out one way or another, tonight. No more mixed signals. He read the confusion on her face. One minute she seemed indifferent, the next sending him “fuck me” signals, the next angry as hell. Then Den told him Grace was his for the taking, that she wasn't the least bit interested in screwing other guys. Yeah, right. Could have fooled him, since she'd just finished letting one of his best friends fuck her. Which was exactly what he'd said to Denver. He'd had to bite back the angry jealousy that had reared its ugly head. Hell he'd wanted to take a punch at Den, and that was completely out of character for him.
He never cared if Den fucked someone he knew. But he sure as hell had had an uptight moment when Grace told him she'd chosen Den. A moment he'd had to get past in a hurry. Grace didn't belong to him and he knew that. She could choose anyone she wanted to. Hell, it was part of her job to do those things. So he'd let it go. And the view had been incredible. He'd even told Den afterward that it looked like he'd done a fine job fucking Grace. She seemed to enjoy the hell out of the experience.
Den had narrowed his gaze and told him he hadn't wanted to punch the shit out of him in a long time, but he was damn close. That Mike needed to start paying attention, because Denver wasn't often wrong, and he'd been wrong about Grace. She wasn't just another pussy—she cared about Mike, but she was confused. Then Den had the goddamn nerve to tell him to go easy on her. Mike dragged his fingers through his hair, wondering if it had been such a good idea to come here tonight. Maybe he should have done what Grace wanted and stayed away. He didn't need this complication in his life. And he sure as hell didn't need to chase after a woman who clearly didn't want to be chased. His relationships with women before had been simple. They went out, they both had mutually satisfying sex with no attachments and no emotion, and then they went their separate ways. No sticky entanglements, no involvements, nothing.
Why was it so goddamn complex with Grace? And why didn't he just walk away when the going got tough? That's what he usually did. They had to wrap this up so neither one of them was confused or had the wrong idea. And he didn't like leaving things the way they'd left them—unfinished.
With his throbbing dick pressing insistently against his jeans, he stood, adjusted and headed through the doorway Grace had just exited. The hall led to her private elevator. He punched the intercom and waited.
“What?”
Her voice. Pretty damned irritated, too.
“Let me up.”

She hesitated. He heard a weary sigh. Then the elevator started whirring, making its way to his floor. He stepped in and in a few seconds he was standing in her living room again. She was at the wide windows overlooking the city, her back turned to him, a glass of brandy in her hand. She didn't even turn around when he walked toward her. “Did you enjoy the show tonight?” she asked.
“Sure. Who wouldn't have?”
He heard her soft laugh.
“But I'd have enjoyed it more if I'd been the one on the other side of the window instead of Denver.”
“I do what I want, when I want, with whomever I want.”
“Yes, I know.” He poured himself a drink and moved next to her. “Grace, I don't expect you to change your life for me. I would be ten times an asshole if I did that. You are who you are, and I admire you for everything you've done with Wild Nights. You have nothing to prove to me.”
She tilted her head toward him, then down. “I'm sorry about tonight. I felt I had something to prove. To you, to myself, maybe. I don't really know.” When she looked up at him again, she shook her head. “Being with you scared me.”
“Why?”
She slid down to the carpet, kicked off her shoes and stared out at the lights again. “You stayed the night. I've never let a man spend the night with me before. Having you wake up next to me . . . felt good.” “Ah.” He knew that feeling. This whole episode with Grace was a lesson in the bizarre for a man who'd never once cared about a woman before. “I'm having a few revelations myself.”
“You are?”
“Yeah.” He reached for a tendril of her hair, just liking the feel of soft silk between his fingers. “I fuck women, Grace. I don't have relationships. I don't form attachments. I don't care. With you . . . it feels different. Believe me, I wish it didn't. I've put more effort into . . . whatever the hell this is between us . . . in the past couple days than I have with any other woman before. Frankly, it scares the shit out of me. It would be a lot easier for me to walk away, to go back to my life and do what I do best, than to continue with this . . . with you.” “Why do you, then?”
He shrugged. “I like a challenge.”
“You just don't like being dumped.”
He laughed. “You bet your ass I don't like it.”
“I'll bet you've dumped a ton of women in your lifetime, haven't you?” She reached up on the table for the brandy and refilled their glasses.
“Too many. Though I was always honest. I never led a woman on.
I don't believe in that.”
She nodded. “Good for you. I don't believe in it, either. Upfront honesty is always the best way.”
“Then dump them.”
Her lips quirked. “Hell of a pair, aren't we?”
“Maybe that's why we're well matched. Neither of us have an expectation of falling in love, of forever. Whatever exists is for right now, and for whatever excites us at the moment.” And she did excite him. Admittedly, watching her come apart for Den, watching his friend sink his cock into her, and all the while her eyes were fixed on him... that had gotten his dick hard. Grace was a one-of-a-kind woman. And he wanted a little longer with her.
Hell no, he wasn't expecting forever. Grace wasn't a settling down kind of woman—he knew that. And God knows he wasn't. But he had a few more days before he had to go back to work. He couldn't think of anyone more fun or more exciting to spend that time with.
“I think I can handle right now,” she said, setting her glass on the floor next to the window. “I'm really good with right now.” He put his glass next to hers. “You didn't have an orgasm when Den fucked you.”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I wanted you to make me come.”
It didn't take telling him twice. He'd wanted that from the minute he'd seen her at the club tonight. “Lay back and lift your skirt.” With a hot smile she scooted back and leaned against the side of the couch, hiking her skirt up over her hips, the same way she'd done for Den. Only this time there was no hesitation, no frown on her face. She spread her legs and he rolled over on his stomach, crawling between her thighs. The sweet musky scent of her pussy drew him in like an irresistible lure, inviting him to taste, to touch. He pressed his fingers on the insides of her thighs, feeling her tremble at the first touch. He kissed along her thigh, absorbing her scent and the softness of her skin against his lips. At the first swipe of his tongue along her flesh, she tangled her fingers in his hair and lifted her hips, offering up her pussy to his mouth.
Oh yeah. He loved her eagerness, her need, the way she twisted underneath him and held tight to his hair as if she was afraid he was going to move away.
Not a chance, babe.
He wasn't going anywhere until she screamed and flooded his face with her come. That she saved this for him meant something, when she could have come with Den. He was going to make this good for her. He covered her clit and sex, sucking light and easy and mixing it up with a roll of his tongue around her clit, not touching it directly.
“Mike.” His name rushed out of her mouth out in a whispered
exhale, a pleading sound he found oh so sexy. He wanted to make her
do it again, so he kept up the movements of his tongue, his mouth
staying latched onto her cunt, refusing to let go. He wasn't going to give her a break, sliding two fingers inside her at the same time. Her pussy latched onto his fingers in a clenching grip, then squeezed and released, making him wish it was his dick inside her getting that treatment. She was wet and hot inside, getting wetter with every thrust of his fingers, every lick of his tongue against her clit. “Please,” she said, pulling at his hair with both hands now, tightening around his fingers. He closed his lips around the hard bud and sucked, taking her over the edge. She came with a gush of wetness against his fingers, pushing her sex against his face and shuddering as she cried out. “I'm coming! Oh yes, suck my clit!”
She was beautiful when she came. Uninhibited, reveling in her orgasm and completely wild. She rode the entire climax with unashamed abandon until her butt relaxed against the floor and she let out a breath of completion, releasing his hair and smiling down at him. “Thank you,” she said, her voice soft and low.
He stood, then held out his hand and pulled her to her feet.
“You're welcome.”
Her face was flushed, her lips parted and he had to have her mouth. He leaned in and kissed her and she didn't hesitate taking a taste of herself on his lips, licking at her own flavor before her tongue dove into his mouth and swept against his. He pulled her into a tight embrace, knowing there wasn't a chance in hell he'd be able to use the restraint he had the other night—he wanted her too much. His balls were in a knot after the show she'd put on with Den earlier. He felt like he'd been waiting forever to be inside her and control was already nonexistent. A quick glance around the room and he knew exactly what he wanted. He took her hand and led her toward her towering windows, the view of Las Vegas spectacular and bright. He pulled her in front of him and wrapped his arm around her. “You like looking out these windows, don't you?”
“Yes.”
He moved his hand along her ribcage, letting his palm rest just below her breasts. “I'll bet lots of guys have fucked you right here.” “I wouldn't say lots.”
“You like being on display?” He pulled the straps of her dress down, then the bodice, baring her breasts. He cupped them, using his thumbs to roll over her nipples, taking in her reaction to his touch. “Sometimes.” Her head fell against his chest, her breathing short and rapid.
His erection pressed hard against his jeans. He moved it against her ass, wanting her to know what she did to him. She reached between them and palmed him, rubbing her hand along his length. “That feels good.”
“I want you inside me, Mike.”
He smiled. He wanted that, too. More than he could tell her. But this play was too much fun to stop, her body too beautiful bathed in the lights to end it. “Soon. Touch your pussy for me.” She let out a little gasp—excitement, he hoped—and raised her dress, fingering her pussy.
“It's so wet,” she whispered. “You made me come hard.” “I'm going to make you come again. Next time it'll be all over my cock.”
She squeezed his cock and he wished he were naked. She had such soft hands. So different than when he touched himself. He liked her touching him.
Her nipples were hard little pebbles that he rolled between his fingers. He plucked them, testing her to see how hard she liked it. When he pinched lightly, she gasped, but arched against him, giving him more. He pulled them, elongating them, wanting to flip her around and cover the buds with his mouth, his teeth. But oh, he liked having her sweet, firm ass nestled against his crotch, so he was just going to have to suffer and satisfy himself with fondling her breasts.
Her hair was pinned up tonight, a silver clip holding it together. He removed it and let the raven waves cascade down her back, burying his nose in the fragrant softness, then sweeping the tendrils over her shoulder so he could have access to the nape of her neck. He kissed her, then nibbled, taking a soft bite. She shuddered and let out a low moan.
That was it. He couldn't take any more. With a harsh oath he unzipped his pants and pushed Grace forward. She planted her hands on the window glass and spread her legs. While he prepared for her, he took a step back and admired the picture she presented. Her legs spread wide, the dress pulled up over her hips, exposing her swollen pussy lips to his view, her small breasts dangling down just waiting for his hands.
She turned her head and shot him a look so filled with hunger and need that he wished he could take a picture of her posing just like that. He'd never seen a woman look so beautiful before. Cock in hand, he approached, smoothing his hand over her back, down over her hips and buttocks, giving her a light smack. “Yes,” she said. “Please.” He fit his cock between her legs, finding the warm, wet center, and drove home, this time not gentle, not taking his time, but plunging inside her with force, taking what he felt was his and making her accept it.
She did, crying out his name and pushing her ass back against him. She took it, all of him, and wanted more. That meant something to him. He growled and pulled her against him.
A raging beast had taken him over. He gripped her hips and reared back, only to power forward again, burying his cock deep inside her. She gripped him in a tight vise of supple, wet silk, the hottest rain imaginable pouring over his balls.
He reached between her legs and rubbed her clit as he pumped
inside her. “Come for me, Grace.” He pulled her ass against him,
tightening his hold around her with one hand while rubbing the hard bud with the other. “Come on my cock.”
With every stroke he felt the walls closing in around him. He pulled partway out, then in, keeping his strokes shallow, gliding along her G-spot, wanting her to explode around him. “Do it. I want to feel your pussy squeezing me.”
“Oh God, Mike,” she whimpered, then let go, rocking back against him as the waves of her climax crashed over them both. He went with her, pushing into her with a final deep thrust and staying there, wrapping both arms around her and holding her as he emptied over and over again. With a final shudder, he pulled out and turned Grace around, kissing her and pushing her hair away from her face so he could see her eyes. Purple, luminous, like the dark sky outside. So incredibly beautiful with her lips parted as she caught her breath. She laid her head against his chest and wrapped her arms around his back. He might just be content to hold her like this . . . He'd almost thought “forever,” but a word like that wasn't in Mike Nottingham's vocabulary.
So maybe just all night. He'd be content to hold her like this all night long.