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 upstairs and leave your date behind?"

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."

Okay, she was eternally grateful for that assurance, and now that Steve had eased her insecurities, there was something more pressing she needed to attend to, no matter that there were other couples in the room with them. Most were too busy with their own pleasure to pay attention to anything else going on around them.

Reaching between their bodies, Liz unbuckled his belt, but before she could pull the tab of his zipper down, he stopped her.

He sucked in a startled breath. "Damn it, Liz, what are you doing?" he growled huskily.

She nipped at his jaw and cupped him in her palm through the fabric of his slacks, massaging the impressive length of him with her fingers. "Someone put something in my drink, and I'm burning up. I need you inside me. Here. Now."

He swore beneath his breath, his body tensing protectively, possessively, and she knew he was thinking about hunting down those two men and beating the shit out of them.

Right now, Liz had something else in mind for those wonderful hands of his. Catching his wrist, she slid his palm beneath the hem of her dress and determinedly guided his fingers upward, past the lacy band of her stockings. "Steve… touch me."

She groaned and trembled when he slipped two fingers beneath the edge of her panties and into the hot, wet folds of her pulsing sex and stroked her engorged flesh. She came immediately, biting her bottom lip as her release slammed through her in a pounding rush of sensation that nearly overwhelmed her with the pleasure of it.

But that one orgasm wasn't enough. Not when she could already feel a second one waiting in the wings, another wave of heat building, slowly cresting to a peak of desire.

"Steve, please," she begged.

He lifted his dark head and stared deep into her eyes as his fingers, wet from her, skimmed up to her hip and tugged on the side ties of her panties. "Please what?" he asked, his tone low and rough.

This particular fantasy had turned dark and forbidden, a naughty, shameless tryst that surprisingly turned her on, beyond the stimulant she'd been given. There was no reason to couch what she wanted and needed in a flowery request. Right now, she needed a hard, fast coupling for the pure sake of satisfaction.

"Fuck me," she whispered. A plea. A dare.

His restraint shattered, and instead of releasing the second tie on her panties, he ripped them off her hips, then shoved the scrap of fabric into his coat pocket. In a heartbeat, he released his shaft, plucked a foil packet from the bowl on the table next to them, and rolled the condom on.

Then he was back, curling his fingers under her bare bottom, pulling her forward, spreading her legs, and lifting her all in one smooth motion. Her thighs clamped against his hips, and he shoved forward, entering her in a long, hard thrust that impaled her to the hilt. The cry that escaped her throat was lost in the pulsating beat of the music drifting into the velvet room from the bar area.

With Steve standing in front of her, and with the dim lighting, all anyone could see was a couple in an erotic embrace, if they could see anything at all in the dark corner Steve had chosen. Anyone could imagine exactly what they were doing, but they were completely and decently covered-by her dress and the jacket he wore.

Which made the encounter that much more exciting.

She anchored her arms around his neck, locked her ankles against the small of his back, and felt the powerful muscles in his arms, along his shoulders, and in his buttocks Hex as he pumped into her. She welcomed this primal side to Steve, the way he could so easily lose control with her.

Burying her face in the curve of his neck, she inhaled his hot male scent. She bit his earlobe, dipped her tongue into his ear, and felt the clench of her inner muscles around his shaft as another orgasm beckoned.

"Oh, God," she rasped into his ear, poised on the brink of tumbling over yet another exquisite peak. "I'm going to come again."

"Yes." His breathing was hot and moist against her throat, labored; and with a hard, convulsive shudder, he let go and went over himself.

When the tempest was over, she sagged against him, felt him shift with her still in his arms, then gently lowered her feet back to the floor.

He met her gaze and tenderly brushed tendrils of hair off her cheek. "We got the information we came for, so let's get the hell out of here."

She couldn't agree with him more.

Chapter 14

They took a cab home instead of using the company limousine, and as soon as they were inside Steve's place and made their way up to his bedroom, Liz was worked up all over again. She couldn't seem to get enough of him-a fantasy in and of itself, despite how furious Steve was at whoever had given her a sexual stimulant. But now all he could do was give her more of what she needed, and in the private haven of his bedroom, without an audience, he could do just that.