They quickly learned that Trixie was a popular party girl, and very elusive.

As the evening progressed, the playrooms rapidly filled up with eager participants, and the atmosphere throughout the mansion changed from casual to hedonistic pleasure being the main objective, and there were many who didn't care where the sex took place. She and Steve remained in the bar area, with a large dance floor that was filled to capacity. The heavy, sensual beat of the music inspired a lot of bumping and grinding, and embraces that were as intimate as the dance of sex itself.

Drinks flowed freely, loosening inhibitions, and more than once Liz felt the pass of a hand over her bottom and along her thighs as the guests grew more aggressive despite the fact that she was clearly with Steve. The crush of bodies on the dance floor grew overwhelming, and when she told Steve that she needed fresh air, he didn't hesitate to take her out onto the adjoining balcony. Unfortunately, they weren't alone as Liz had hoped; other lovers apparently had exactly the same idea.

Steve leaned against the wrought-iron railing and pulled her to him so she stood between his thighs, their bellies and thighs aligned. He stroked his hands down her bare back, let his palms gently caress her bottom, and nuzzled her neck.

"You're completely wound up," he said, obviously feeling the tension thrumming through her. "Are you ready to go?"

Liz bit back a moan as Steve's warm, soft mouth opened on her throat. She didn't want to give up so soon, but they'd been at The Ultimate Fantasy for over two hours, and she was beginning to think their search for Trixie was going to end up being fruitless. She also felt extremely out of place among the couples who were growing increasingly more physical with one another. Just mere feet away on a lounge chair, two women and a man were going at it hot and heavy, clothes were being shed, and there was no doubt in Liz's mind how that threesome was going to end up.

"Lucky guy," Steve said, his tone warm with amusement as he, too, watched the erotic scene unfolding next to them.

One woman straddled the man's bare torso and leaned into him, offering her breast to his mouth, while the other party girl lowered the zipper on his pants, released his burgeoning shaft, and gave him a blow job.

Mutual moans of pleasure echoed out on the balcony, and Liz's breathing deepened and her skin felt flushed. Steve rolled his hips against hers, fitting his erection in the notch between her thighs, and Liz was shocked to realize that she was wet and highly aroused. It was like watching an X-rated movie, but live and in person.

She tried to look away, but Steve wouldn't let her.

"If they're doing it out here in front of everyone, there's nothing wrong with watching and letting it turn you on," he said, his hot breath teasing her ear just as his fingers teased the backs of her thighs, opening them wider so he could exert a more illicit pressure against her aching sex.

The trio was switching positions, with the man lying flat on his back. One woman sank down on his cock and rode him with abandon, while the other rode his mouth, which allowed the two party girls to pleasure each other as well.

Liz decided she'd seen more than enough, and just as she opened her mouth to tell Steve that she wanted to leave and finish their own twosome somewhere private and alone, they were interrupted.

"I hate to break, the mood, lovers," a husky feminine voice purred from behind Liz, "but I heard you were asking for Trixie Lane."

Steve's entire demeanor changed instinctively, shifting from amorous to aware in a heartbeat. He straightened and moved Liz so she was standing by his side instead of in front of him, though he still held her hand in his.

The gorgeous, voluptuous redhead wearing a nearly see-through black dress touched a hand to the swell of her breasts and smiled at Steve-a very practiced come-hither smile that no man, or woman, could mistake.

Whoever this woman was, she wanted Steve.

"And you are…?" Steve drawled pleasantly.

"The woman you're apparently looking for." Trixie ignored Liz and gave Steve an appreciative once-over, her eyes alight with interest. Apparently liking what she saw, she extended a more intimate invitation. "Why don't you come with me, alone, and we'll talk about what I can do for you."

A blatant solicitation if Liz ever heard one, from the one woman who could give them the information they so desperately needed.

With an artful, seductive toss of her cascading tresses, Trixie turned and walked back through the balcony's French doors, slender hips swaying, confident in knowing the effect she had on the opposite sex, since most were ogling her as she strolled away. She glanced one last time over her shoulder and crooked her finger at Steve, beckoning him to follow.

His jaw clenched, and the frustrated look he shot Liz told her that he was torn between staying and going. This was the lead they'd come here for, and while Liz couldn't bring herself to give him the verbal okay he seemed to be waiting for, they both knew what he had to do.

"Shit," he said, clearly unhappy about the turn of events. "I'll be right back." He strode after Trixie, pursuing her through the throng of people gathered inside the bar and dance area.

Liz followed at a discreet distance, watching from afar as Trixie headed up to the second floor, where the playrooms were located. She stopped at the top of the stairs and waited for Steve to join her. A sinful smile curved the other woman's lips when he arrived. Trixie leaned toward Steve, much too close for Liz's liking, said something in his ear, then sashayed down a hallway.

Liz's stomach knotted when Steve hesitated only a few seconds before following. Liz definitely did not want to know how Steve planned to extract the information he needed from Trixie Lane-or what the other woman might expect from him in return.

God, she needed a drink.

"You look like you could use a drink."

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.