by Weber, Tawny
But pretty damned great wasn’t pretty damned wild.
Every one of the other women in this room had a wild side. They had each had at least one sexual encounter like the ones in those erotica books.
According to gossip, Luke Monroe’s sex life was wilder than all three of her friends’. Combined. He wouldn’t go for boring.
“Gia?” Jessa prompted from her perch on the huge lime-green pillow chair. “Why haven’t you gone for it?”
“Tri-Solutions’ familiarity policy, probably,” Caryn guessed. “They have rules against intercompany dating. They figure it causes too much drama in the workplace.”
Gia nodded, adding, “Sure, almost everyone ignores it. But even if management doesn’t crack down, gossip does major damage. You know how that goes.”
Nobody could deny it. They all knew women who’d been fired or been made so miserable over work affairs that they’d quit.
“What about the rumor that Luke’s being courted by that financial company as a permanent system consultant? The new position starts in two weeks. If he takes that job, he’s moving to the East Coast.”
Gia grimaced. That reason, more than anything else, was probably the core of why she’d finally confessed her fantasy. Her crush was about to slip right out of her reach.
“Great, you answered my question before I could ask, again,” Jessa said with a frown, as though they were cheating her. Then her face brightened. “But, really, it’s not the company policy that’s the issue—it’s timing. Once he leaves town, he takes the chances of your fantasy coming true with him. So you need to make this happen in the next two weeks.”
“Which brings us to the final question,” Sara said, setting aside her glass and leaning forward in preparation for getting to the down and dirty. “What’s it going to take to make this happen for you? What do you need to go for it?”
A miracle?
Hiring a street gangster to kidnap Luke and leave him tied to her bed?
A hell of a lot more vodka.
“Las Vegas,” Caryn yelled out, clapping her hands together as if she’d just won a prize.
Gia exchanged baffled looks with the other women before arching a questioning brow. “What about Vegas?”
“Luke’s attending the CES convention in Vegas next weekend to work the Tri-Solutions booth and schmooze with potential clients.”
“You want me to go to Vegas and seduce him?” Gia asked faintly. She’d rather crawl under her couch and hide. Talk about double intimidation. Vegas was the land of strippers, showgirls and pay-by-the-hour kink. Oh, yeah, she’d really stand out there.
“It’s perfect,” Caryn insisted. “You can have your fantasy, with your fantasy guy, and not jeopardize your job. Or your ego if anything goes wrong.”
“Are you throwing in fat-free chocolate and calorie-less whipped cream?”
“I don’t have to. All you need is a makeover.”
Two sets of jaws dropped right along with her own. Gia was glad to see the other women were just as baffled as she was.
“Since when did makeover and orgasms go hand in hand?”
“How will a facial and haircut get her fantasy sex?”
“I don’t look good enough to get a guy like Luke Monroe?”
“Don’t be silly. You’re gorgeous. But those silly rules mean you can’t haul the guy into the company supply closet and ride him like a wild stallion. So you need a cover. A fake persona. You can make yourself into the woman you are in your fantasies, and he won’t have a clue the woman blowing his, um, mind is someone he works with.”
“Oh, I like this,” Sara said, all but rubbing her hands together. “It’s easier to get into the role if you’re in costume. The makeover not only protects your identity, it lets you shed your inhibitions. You can do anything you want, because you’ll be someone else.”
Anything?
Excitement flamed in Gia’s belly. Suddenly it seemed as if blurting out her secret had been a good thing.
Nerves warred with the excitement, and doubts screamed warnings in her head. But the vision of being tied to a bed and having whipped cream licked off her body by a very naked, very aroused, very worshipful Luke Monroe made those easy to ignore.
Well, that vision and the second chocolatini.
“I could do it. I really could,” she said, pressing her fingers to her lips to try and hold back her excitement. “And, really, where better than Sin City to go wild.”
Other than right here, in her mind, where she couldn’t be rejected or make an idiot of herself. Or worse, find out she wasn’t fantasy-sex material.
“There’s no way we can pull all of this off before next weekend, though. Can we?” She didn’t know if she wanted them to say no way or that it was a slam dunk.
But when the women started tossing around makeover ideas, everything from temporary hair color to extensions to wardrobe options, Gia couldn’t stop grinning.
This was like her birthday, Christmas and a naughty-toy party all rolled into one. But she was going to be blowing something a lot bigger than a candle.
Chapter Two
Girlz Guide Words of Wisdom…
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.
“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.