Nash excused himself to walk her to the door. Dahlia moved to the windows, amazed at the view. The mountains stood in the distance, but most of the Strip lay below and to the east.

She felt him approach and leaned into his body when he wrapped his arms around her, melting at his touch. “Dinner will arrive in a few minutes. Is Indian all right?”

“Yes, wonderful. This is some view.”

“It is, isn’t it? Wait until it’s fully dark. The lights are so beautiful.” His hands slid up under the hem of her shirt, palms smoothing over her bare skin. “You’re so warm.”

“Mmm.”

“Sweatshirt off. Hands on the window. Spread your feet.”

Her eyes slid closed for a moment as she obeyed, the glass cool against her palms.

One-handed, he peeled the cups of her bra back, baring her breasts to his touch, rolling and tugging her nipples. Dahlia opened her eyes to catch the mirrored view in the window of his hand moving down her stomach and beneath the waistband of her yoga pants. She’d considered changing into something fancier, but she was glad she hadn’t as clever fingers burrowed into her panties and delved into her pussy.

“You’re so beautiful reflected there, Dahlia.”

Her eyes flicked up, catching his gaze in the window.

What a picture she made! Leaned back into him, one of his hands doing naughty things to her nipple, the other in her pants. No one had ever made her look or feel the way he did. She wasn’t afraid of her sexuality with him. He made her love that side of herself.

“I’m going to make you come. Just a quick one before dinner. And then we’ll take our time. Give it to me, Dahlia.”

“Work for it, Nash,” she gasped as his rhythm against her clit sped up.

A dark chuckle was her reward, hot against her ear and neck. “Tough talk for a woman standing in front of my living room windows with my hand down her pants. Your pussy is hot and juicy in my palm. Do you wonder who can see you?”

Her eyes moved from his to the city below. As her orgasm built, she did indeed wonder. Was there a man in his hotel room with binoculars? Did he see how wanton she was, writhing, rolling her hips against Nash’s hand?

“Dahlia Baker has a kink in her laces.” His voice was teasing and she wanted to laugh but instead gasped as she began to come, fingers pressing against the glass, eyes locked with his again.

Some moments later he put her bra back in place and pulled his hand out of her pants. Reaching up, he drew a fingertip over her bottom lip and spun her, kissing her mouth.

Her taste mixed with his, dizzying her. As always, the dark edge of his sexuality turned her on. Her entire being sparked with electricity. Nash Emery made her feel so alive.

The doorbell sounded and he pulled back with a sigh. “Dinner is here.”

Over dinner he asked her about the interview, and she gave him some details.

“I hope it doesn’t scare you when I tell you I love the idea of you getting a job here in Vegas. I like you here.”

She wasn’t necessarily scared, but she was touched and thrilled because she liked being there with him, too. Damn, when had she fallen from attracted to him to really heavily into him? Trying to push that from her mind, she also told him she thought she’d be heading to Liberty for a few days at Christmas.

“I’ll be going home, too. William and I leave here on Christmas Eve. I’ll be back on the tenth. I’m going to New York right after New Year’s and then to London.

“I hate being gone so long. Hell, I wish you could come with me to London. It’s really pretty in the winter. I get the feeling I’m going to have trouble sleeping. I like you in my bed. Or me in yours.”

Two weeks would be the longest they’d been apart since they’d started dating. Dahlia realized just thinking in those terms meant Nash had begun to mean a lot to her. She also didn’t miss that he omitted wishing he could take her home for Christmas and wondered what that was all about.

“I like waking up with you, too. And I’ll miss you. But it’s important to be with family at the holidays. I’m sure your mother misses you during the year. It’s not much to ask that you give the woman who birthed you a week of your life once a year.” There, she said it. Told him she’d miss him—and she would.

He laughed. “You should be her press person. She has no problem saying any of that herself, though. My mother isn’t afraid to use guilt. You know William is closing the club. He could have left it for his manager to run, but he’s a control freak that way.” He put his fork down and leaned over to kiss her temple. “I’ll miss you, too.”

They finished eating and then moved to his couch to watch the purpled sky fade into darkness, snuggled up together.

“I want to muss you up. But I’ll want to even more when you get offstage, so I’ll save it until tonight.”

Turning, she moved to straddle his lap. “Are you on a mussing-Dahlia-up diet or something? Is there an only-one-mussing-up-per-day rule? If so, you totally broke it about fourteen times so far.”

His eyes darkened and she found herself on her back on the carpet looking up into his face.

“You’re playing with fire, Dahlia. I want you every moment of the day. It’s an entirely new experience for me.”

“Is there something you haven’t told me about yourself, Nash? I just assumed that with two women attached to you like remora at all times, you liked girls.”

He laughed and ground his cock into her. “Remora.” He rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t that bad. But I much prefer this one sultry dancer on my arm.”

“Lest you think I’m fishing for compliments, I want to say I’m at a loss for words when you say that stuff. I don’t know what you mean.”

He kissed her softly and pulled back enough to look into her eyes. “I’ve never been one for exclusivity. But I assume we have that and I’d like it to stay that way.”

“And this counts when you’re in London or L.A. or wherever else?”

“You have plans for a new man while I’m away?”

She socked him in the arm playfully. “I mean you. I’m too busy when you’re away to get caught up in an intense affair. I save it all for you.”

Knowing how she was, knowing her fears and weaknesses about her place in his life, this admission from her knocked him out.

“God, you’re amazing, Dahlia.” He rained dozens of tiny kisses all over her face, needing to be sweet and gentle with her for the moment. He ached to spread her out and love every inch of her body, slowly and surely. But she had to be onstage in three hours and he wanted more time than that.

“I am?” Her voice was breathless. “Because I don’t have a few other dudes stashed away when you leave town?”

He stood quickly and pulled her up with him. “Come on. Let’s go for a drive. You’ve got three hours. Remember that comment about muscle cars and their hoods? Shall we take the ’Vette?”

She nodded eagerly and stood.

But when they got to the car, she gasped. “I want to fall to my knees in reverence,” she whispered, approaching the ’54. Candy-apple red, whitewall tires, gleaming chrome. “This is just hot, Nash.”

His face lit up as he grinned at her response. “I feel like I’m in church every time I see it. You ready to take that ride, Dahlia?”

“Lots of room to get to your cock as you’re driving.”

“God, the perfect woman.” He sighed happily and pulled keys from his pocket.

He pulled the top off and let her in, liking the way she looked there in the passenger seat a whole hell of a lot.

Once off the Strip they headed out of town toward the lake. The roads weren’t too crowded and the evening air was nice and warm, even for early December.

“Now, I think I’ve got a debt to pay.”

Nash heard her seat belt unbuckle and groaned as her hands moved to his pants, opening the button and zipper, reaching in to grab his cock. The flutter of brightly colored silk caught in his peripheral vision as she took off her scarf, freeing her hair to the breeze. She turned sideways and leaned over, swirling her tongue around the head of his cock.