lot to do with why they'd become and stayed such good friends. The only other person he trusted with his secrets was his best friend and partner, Seth Jacobs. “Present that card at the club entrance and you're in,” Denver said. “Your name is already on the list.”
Mike traced the raised lettering on the invitation with his fingertip.
“I take it they know you well there?”
Den laughed. “I never miss a chance to visit Wild Nights whenever I'm in Vegas. Grace runs a very classy show. And the menu is as varied as your imagination.” “Grace?”
“Figured you'd zero in on that. Grace Wylde is the owner of Wild Nights.” Den spelled her last name.
“Ah. Intriguing.”
“Intriguing doesn't begin to describe her. Gorgeous, mysterious, keeps to herself a bit yet always makes you feel at home. And she's sexy as hell. I've never known a woman so comfortable in her own sexual skin.”
“Really.” And she owned a club like Wild Nights? A man's dream come true. Den leaned back in the chair and shook his head. “Don't even think about it. She's completely untouchable.”
“Happily married or with someone?”
Den laughed. “Not even close.”
“Then she's not completely untouchable, Den. You and I both know that.” They'd shared enough women over the years, women who at first look seemed like ice queens, but in the bedroom melted all over them.
“This one is. Many have tried. All have failed.”
“I can't wait to meet her.” Failure wasn't in Mike's vocabulary. There wasn't a woman he'd set his mind to having that he hadn't succeeded in seducing. The conference he'd come to Las Vegas to attend had ended and he'd already made plans to take an extra week off. Wild Nights sounded like a perfect start to his vacation. A place to relax, unwind and see a little bit of the Vegas wild life. And he was intrigued by Grace Wylde. He never could resist a challenge. He was ready for some action. He'd been good during the conference. Maybe at Wild Nights he'd find a spark, something to alleviate the restlessness that seemed to be a part of his everyday life. Because no matter what he did, no matter who he was with or what sexual games he played, he was never satisfied. He'd been with some amazing women, and he'd played every game in the book. If it existed sexually, he'd done it. He was always searching for the next big thrill, trying to top the last sexual conquest with something even better. But now it had just become a game—an endless stream of women in and out of his life. Women who couldn't stand up to his challenges, although plenty had tried. He'd long ago stopped thinking of himself as a pervert or some kind of extremist. He was just looking for satisfaction. So far, he hadn't found it. He'd just about decided it didn't exist, that sexual fulfillment would always lay beyond his grasp. Oh, he got off all right. He had good sex. Sometimes great sex. But he always felt like it lacked . . . something.
And he hadn't been able to figure out what that “something” was. “Mike,” Den said, capturing his attention again. “There will be plenty of others to play with at Wild Nights. You won't even get a shot at Grace. Don't even think about it.”
But he was thinking about it. He hadn't even met her yet and she was already his target for tonight.
Look out Grace Wylde. If there was one thing that got him hot, it was a challenge. No matter how many nights the doors opened to
Wild Nights, Grace Wylde still got a thrill as if it were the very first time. Every night was opening night. Each time had to be absolutely perfect.
She surveyed the club, watched her staff behind the bar shine the glassware and inventory the alcohol. Her gaze drifted across the room to the dance floor where the DJ was preparing tonight's mix. He looked up, his headphones on, head bobbing up and down to whatever song played in his ears while he simultaneously did a light check. He grinned and gave her the thumbs-up sign. She smiled back at him and moved
Mike traced the raised lettering on the invitation with his fingertip.
“I take it they know you well there?”
Den laughed. “I never miss a chance to visit Wild Nights whenever I'm in Vegas. Grace runs a very classy show. And the menu is as varied as your imagination.” “Grace?”
“Figured you'd zero in on that. Grace Wylde is the owner of Wild Nights.” Den spelled her last name.
“Ah. Intriguing.”
“Intriguing doesn't begin to describe her. Gorgeous, mysterious, keeps to herself a bit yet always makes you feel at home. And she's sexy as hell. I've never known a woman so comfortable in her own sexual skin.”
“Really.” And she owned a club like Wild Nights? A man's dream come true. Den leaned back in the chair and shook his head. “Don't even think about it. She's completely untouchable.”
“Happily married or with someone?”
Den laughed. “Not even close.”
“Then she's not completely untouchable, Den. You and I both know that.” They'd shared enough women over the years, women who at first look seemed like ice queens, but in the bedroom melted all over them.
“This one is. Many have tried. All have failed.”
“I can't wait to meet her.” Failure wasn't in Mike's vocabulary. There wasn't a woman he'd set his mind to having that he hadn't succeeded in seducing. The conference he'd come to Las Vegas to attend had ended and he'd already made plans to take an extra week off. Wild Nights sounded like a perfect start to his vacation. A place to relax, unwind and see a little bit of the Vegas wild life. And he was intrigued by Grace Wylde. He never could resist a challenge. He was ready for some action. He'd been good during the conference. Maybe at Wild Nights he'd find a spark, something to alleviate the restlessness that seemed to be a part of his everyday life. Because no matter what he did, no matter who he was with or what sexual games he played, he was never satisfied. He'd been with some amazing women, and he'd played every game in the book. If it existed sexually, he'd done it. He was always searching for the next big thrill, trying to top the last sexual conquest with something even better. But now it had just become a game—an endless stream of women in and out of his life. Women who couldn't stand up to his challenges, although plenty had tried. He'd long ago stopped thinking of himself as a pervert or some kind of extremist. He was just looking for satisfaction. So far, he hadn't found it. He'd just about decided it didn't exist, that sexual fulfillment would always lay beyond his grasp. Oh, he got off all right. He had good sex. Sometimes great sex. But he always felt like it lacked . . . something.
And he hadn't been able to figure out what that “something” was. “Mike,” Den said, capturing his attention again. “There will be plenty of others to play with at Wild Nights. You won't even get a shot at Grace. Don't even think about it.”
But he was thinking about it. He hadn't even met her yet and she was already his target for tonight.
Look out Grace Wylde. If there was one thing that got him hot, it was a challenge. No matter how many nights the doors opened to
Wild Nights, Grace Wylde still got a thrill as if it were the very first time. Every night was opening night. Each time had to be absolutely perfect.
She surveyed the club, watched her staff behind the bar shine the glassware and inventory the alcohol. Her gaze drifted across the room to the dance floor where the DJ was preparing tonight's mix. He looked up, his headphones on, head bobbing up and down to whatever song played in his ears while he simultaneously did a light check. He grinned and gave her the thumbs-up sign. She smiled back at him and moved
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