Her hands tore at his belt, getting it undone along with the button and zipper of his trousers, freeing his cock as it spilled hot and ready into her grasp.

He let go of her long enough to roll on the condom he’d readied while he waited for her outside.

“Lift your leg over my hip and put my cock into your pussy,” he whispered into her ear and she whimpered with barely leashed desire.

An athletic thigh wrapped around his waist as she braced her back and guided him to her gate. Easing her body down, she took him into herself, slowly, so slowly.

Too slowly—he needed her right then.

Moving his hands to her waist, he flexed his hips upward and thrust into her to the hilt, filling her completely.

Fucking into her body, he found her ear again. “Anyone could walk in at any moment, Dahlia. Don’t make a sound. Or…would you like that, baby? If the bartender saw us, saw your pretty pussy bared with my cock deep inside it? Do you think he’d be hard afterward? Would he imagine you as he slid a fist around his cock later tonight? I bet he does anyway, after watching you onstage. I know I do.”

A strangled moan muffled in her throat as he smiled against her earlobe. His woman had an exhibitionistic streak—that much he knew from watching her onstage—but the idea of being caught really did it for her, too. He felt the heated silk of her honey as it nearly scalded his balls.

It made him want to push her boundaries to see just what else she liked. God knew he liked that the idea of being walked in on made her pussy cream. Loved the thrill of turning her on. He’d just done it because he could not last another moment without fucking her after seeing that last set. But now that he knew another thing that flipped her switch, he planned to keep it up.

“Finger your pussy for me, Dahlia. You know how much I love to feel you come around my cock.” He loved to watch her, to feel her make herself come for him. The contractions of her inner muscles usually pushed him right over the edge after her.

A soft sigh came from her as she moved her hand between them. He ground himself into her, adding to the friction she gave herself. Her breath gasped in his ear. He knew it wouldn’t be much longer for her and within moments her breathing hitched and a soft cry came from her as she began to come. With mindless pleasure buffeting him, he continued to hammer her body with his own.

In the darkness of the hallway he found his own pleasure as stars lit his eyelids and her name whispered from his lips. He set her down gently and kissed her. “You’re so amazing,” he murmured into her ear, loving the way his compliment made her lean into him a moment.

When she let him in that little bit, opening her heart as well as her body, it touched him deeply. True, they had amazing sexual chemistry and she was scorching hot in bed, but in some ways, she hesitated to fully embrace the whole of her sexuality.

As he’d gotten to know her over the past months, watched her react to things, learned her triggers and some of her vulnerabilities, Nash believed a big part of it was other people’s perceptions of her because of how she looked.

She seemed to struggle with her own power as an amazingly sensual and beautiful woman. That vulnerability was what enabled him to stay with her, push her to let him in. He didn’t walk away from her when she was prickly and difficult because she was worth staying for. The woman beneath her armor appealed to him on every level.

It should have frightened him, freaked him out. He’d always run from feeling deeply, kept himself with women he supposed he felt weren’t worthy of him. And he guessed that didn’t say much of what he thought he was worth, either. Instead, Dahlia Baker made him put in the time and effort because she was worth it and so was he.

Smiling, he turned back to her after he checked to make sure the outer hallway was clear.

* * *

Dahlia set herself to rights, smoothing her dress back down and finger-combing her hair as he gave a quick look to be sure no one was outside.

Her hands shook, her knees were rubbery. Nash Emery had just given her what was undoubtedly the hottest five minutes of her life. That bit about being caught had taken her by surprise, but his naughty words in her ear painting that vision had seared straight to her core.

He had a way of exposing her deepest desires and fantasies that was terribly alluring. But also frightening. Letting someone know her that well made her feel stripped. Stripped of pretense. Stripped of defenses. Naked and open. She’d have to let go of the way she’d believed things were, and that was a risk.

Blowing out her anxiety, she exited the room quickly when he gave her the all clear and they headed out the side door of the club and they walked through the casino.

Halfway out, Nash turned to her, pulling her body tightly against his own. She didn’t fail to notice the woman who’d just come out of The Dollhouse giving them a dirty look. Or Nash’s response, a raised eyebrow before giving his attention back to Dahlia.

Lara Warner. Dahlia tried to push the memories back, the memories of those six months she had worked for Bill Warner back when she’d been an undergrad. First, he’d been so helpful, mentoring her. But then he’d started to come on to her. It had been subtle at first, and because Dahlia had trusted him, she’d let it go further than it should have. She hadn’t done anything with him but she ignored it too long. The last straw was when he’d backed her into a corner in his office and stuck his hand up her skirt.

The ugly things he’d said to her after she’d shoved him away and told him off still rang in her ears from time to time. Those things had made it difficult to get another office job after that. Lara Warner had been only too gleeful to blame her husband’s behavior on Dahlia.

And since The Dollhouse was a magnet for the rich and fabulous, women like Lara Warner haunted it and Dahlia had been unable to avoid her.

No matter how smart, no matter how professional she was, people always took one look at her tits and decided she was a whore. But she wouldn’t let assholes like Warner and his ex-wife stop her from achieving her dreams.

Shoving those thoughts away, she turned her attention back to Nash, tracing a finger over his bottom lip. Her pussy flooded when he sucked her fingertip into his mouth, closing his eyes a moment.

“Mmm. Tastes like your pussy,” he murmured, and she shivered.

He kissed her hard and fast before asking if she minded him playing a few hands of blackjack. Shaking her head, they walked hand in hand to the door that led to the high-roller tables.

Standing behind him at the blackjack table, she looked on as he won five thousand dollars in the first two hands. Not even blinking as he won more than she made in two months. The anxiety at their differences clawed at her gut.

She also didn’t miss the looks the other women sent Nash’s way. It didn’t bother her so much when the waitresses did it but when it was the other patrons, women from his social circle, she felt uncomfortable, out of her element. Reminded that hers was a short-term position, she felt alternately invisible and like a pretty accessory.

Dahlia hated the sick dread in her gut at the thought of it being over between them. Of perhaps being his sexy showgirl to slum with for a while. Of her feelings for him being stronger than his for her. Could she be that carefree woman who laughed and kissed both his cheeks as he moved on? Dahlia wasn’t sure she had the strength.

He turned and spoke to the woman beside him, both of them laughing. The diamonds in her ears cost two years’ tuition. Dahlia stood, utterly unable to move. She was so out of her element it wasn’t funny. What the hell had she been thinking? This man wasn’t for her. Years’ worth of derision and being perceived as nothing more than a pretty opportunist came to rest in her head, hanging heavy in her stomach.