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Las Vegas, NV

Eleven years later

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Max took his second bow of the night. The audience was on their feet, clapping and whistling, impressed by the show’s final trick, which he and his brother recently invented.

Glancing stage left, he saw Rhys standing in the wings, grinning. Of course, his grin probably had less to do with the crowd’s reaction than it did the woman standing next to him. Melina, Rhys’s wife, was beautiful, but six months pregnant with twins? She glowed with vitality, blushing when Rhys bent to whisper something in her ear. Max had never seen his brother happier.

When the curtain came down, Max strode toward them, laughing when Melina threw her arms around him.

“That was an amazing set, Max. Brilliant.”

He pulled back and flicked her nose, and his affection for Melina—whom he and Rhys had known since she was fourteen and they were sixteen—swelled inside his chest. Back then she’d already been in love with Rhys. Max had known it. Rhys had known it. Hell, everyone had known it. When Melina turned sixteen, Rhys had finally decided to ask her out but Max messed things up by kissing her. It had been a shitty thing to do, one motivated by jealousy, and because of his rash behavior they’d all paid a heavy price. Rhys and Melina essentially stopped speaking to one another, and Max often sensed his brother’s resentment towards him. Luckily, last year, Max had the chance to make things right. By forcing Melina and Rhys into a sexually charged situation, he’d gotten them to confess their true feelings. Soon afterward, they’d figured out how to meld their different lifestyles, which is how they’d all wound up in Vegas. Now Rhys managed the act and continued to invent tricks while Max took the stage solo.

Max looked around but didn’t see Melina’s best friends, who were visiting her from California. “Where are Lucy and Grace?”

Lucy’s name rolled off his tongue with ease. Grace’s not so much. It never did. Something about the woman got to him, even when she was just a voice on the phone.

Melina’s eyes flickered slightly. “They said to tell you they loved the show. Lucy had a Skype date with Jericho, and Grace decided to head back with her. She has a lot on her mind. A few things she needs to work out.”

Well, that was certainly vague. And intriguing.

Lucy was a redheaded spitfire with a smart mouth but a kind heart. She also had a penchant for dating younger men, brooding artists with lots of passion but little stability. Her new guy, Jericho, was hitting it big in California’s Napa Valley and had an art opening tonight.

Grace was quieter than Lucy. Not shy exactly, but definitely more restrained, with a hint of a southern drawl and a propensity for idioms that called to mind hot sultry nights and smooth bourbon. She had an irreverent kind of humor that sometimes sneaked up on him, but on the few occasions he saw her, Max felt the wall she put up between herself and others. Each time, he was tempted to climb it. Partially because he was curious, and wanted to appease that curiosity. Mostly because she was so damn beautiful. The combination revved him up. Made him think of all the ways he could rattle her. Challenged him to explore just how long it would take to melt her reserve and have her clawing at his back, clenching around his cock, and screaming his name as she came.

Imagining her spread and under him had become a small obsession, one he sometimes had difficulty hiding.

The last thing he needed was to jeopardize his relationship with his brother and Melina by screwing one of Melina’s best friends. Grace wasn’t like him or the women he dated, out for some fun while it lasted. Besides, she wasn’t impressed by Max’s sex appeal or his notoriety. Hell, she barely seemed to notice him at all.

Still, she was Melina’s friend so…

“Anything I can help Grace with?” he asked.

Max could swear Melina blushed before she shrugged. “I’ll let her know you offered but she probably just needs a good night’s sleep.”

He was feeling tired himself. So tired, he wanted to go home, shower and sleep for three days straight. But he had a date. A big one. One that might reverse a shaky situation that was casting a pallor on his family’s happiness.

Despite tonight’s enthusiastic applause, the theater had only been half-full. Their show had been spectacularly successful since they’d moved to Vegas last year, but sales had plummeted the past few months thanks to their new competition—a dance and acrobatic revue—that had opened in the casino next door. Jeremy Pritchard bought the building with the theatre six months ago. Like the owner before him, he now got a cut of the proceeds from every show in addition to rent. Two weeks ago, he’d threatened not to renew their lease unless they brought sales back up dramatically. They’d upped their promotion budget and marketing efforts, but so far it hadn’t paid off.

Now they only had another month until their lease was up. While having to find a new venue for their show wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, it could generate weeks of missed performances, lost income and unnecessary stress for his family and crew. His parents, who were about to leave for a brief second honeymoon in Hawaii, would feel compelled to cancel or cut it short. Most importantly, Max refused to allow anything to mar Rhys and Melina’s pregnancy, which was going well but was still high-risk due to her small stature and the fact she was having twins.

“Did Jeremy show?” Max asked.

“I sure did,” Jeremy called from behind them.

They all turned.

Jeremy was of average height with a stocky build. He had graying light brown hair and a mustache. His ruddy complexion would bring to mind Santa if you didn’t know the guy was a blow-hard and a schemer.

He slapped both Max and Rhys on the shoulder. “Great show tonight, guys.” He nodded at Melina. “You’re looking beautiful as ever.”

Melina smiled politely. “Thank you.”

He looked at Rhys. “Great applause, Dalton, but still not a packed house. For your sakes, I hope that changes soon. Goodnight,” he said before walking away.

Melina glared at him. “I do not like that man.”

“With the exception of the casino owners, not many do,” Max said. “Rumor is he’s got a gambling problem and has mortgaged this place to the hilt.”

Rhys sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s too bad we didn’t get a say on who bought the building.”

Max’s already considerable anger at Jeremy flared as he turned to his brother. “I don’t want either one of you worrying about Jeremy or the lease.” Rhys opened his mouth to reply, but Max interrupted before he could. “I’ve got it under control. Concentrate on getting ready for the babies. Now, I’m off to Lodi’s. You two heading home?”

Lodi’s was one of Vegas’s hottest new bars. The owner, Rick Lodi, was a huge fan of the act and referred a lot of customers their way. Max often stopped by the bar for drinks after the show, which usually led to a late night with a sexy vacationer or showgirl. Tonight, however, he was going to be focused on Elizabeth Parker, his ex-girlfriend and current Hollywood “It” girl who, for her own reasons, had suggested exploiting both her celebrity status and Max’s reputation as a playboy to bring buzz to Max and his show.

Rhys pulled Melina closer to his side. “Yep. Ladybug here’s been yawning all night so I want to tuck her in.”

She gazed up at him, her eyes filled with love and adoration.

That, Max thought. That’s why he’d kissed her all those years ago. Because he’d wanted a woman to gaze at him the way Melina had always gazed at his brother.

It’s what he’d wanted from Nancy Morrison.

It’s what part of him still wanted.

But as always, he squashed that part of himself down.

He had a good life, with only the occasional blip, like the one Jeremy was causing by threatening not to renew their lease. Hopefully that was something he could rectify. As for wanting what Rhys had with Melina? Why mess things up by dreaming of things he couldn’t have? He simply wasn’t the kind of man women wanted to settle down and have kids with, but hey, that had its perks, too. If he sometimes forgot that, more women were always there to remind him.

So off to Lodi’s he went. Within minutes, Elise, a gorgeous brunette he’d dated a few times, clung to his side and made it clear she’d be down for more of what they’d shared. He chatted with her while he waited for Elizabeth, and the paparazzi that would inevitably be following her.

The more time that passed, however, the more he found himself thinking of a different woman altogether.

Melina’s friend, Grace.

What problems were stressing her out?

And why had Melina blushed when Max had offered to help?

Max Dalton was an orgasm waiting to happen.

According to rumors, the famous magician, who just happened to be Grace Sinclair’s best friend’s brother-in-law, delivered the goods every single time.

The question was could she convince him to work his magic on her.

Grace sneaked another peek at Max’s reflection in the mirror hanging behind the bar at Lodi’s. She’d been watching him for more than an hour, feeling green around the gills whenever she thought of approaching him.

She caught the bartender’s eye. “Can I get another lemon drop please?”

A minute later, the bartender set the drink down on the counter. “Here you go, sweetie.” She tucked her bleached blond hair behind her ear to reveal a tattooed chain of roses covering her neck. “Get you anything else?”

“This is good for now, thank you.” Closing her eyes, she tossed back her drink, then slapped the glass onto the bar with a loud thunk. She always counseled students at the university to aim high when it came to their career goals. Why shouldn’t that rule apply to her? And why shouldn’t they apply to an orgasm? She was almost thirty and, thanks to Logan Cooper, she was dealing with an ugly sexual misconduct charge at work. More importantly, while she was thrilled that Melina’s dreams of love and family were coming true, she also couldn’t deny she was jealous.

She didn’t like feeling jealous of anyone, particularly her friends but she was determined to deal with her issues in as practical a manner as possible. This entailed acknowledging her jealousy, dissecting it and making a plan.

Of course she was jealous of Melina, who was now building a life with the man of her dreams, and that included the imminent arrival of their babies. But Melina hadn’t gotten where she was without taking risks, and Grace had to admit she’d gotten far too comfortable with her safe life in California. She’d put everything into her job and hadn’t dated in months, convinced if a man couldn’t satisfy her in bed and was just going to leave her eventually because of that, what was the point? Now her career had been hijacked and she had extended periods of time with nothing to do but contemplate her failures. If she didn’t want to spend the rest of her life alone, she needed to do something about it. Like Melina, she needed to take some risks.

The first thing to address was her inability to orgasm with a man. That particular problem had dominated her life and her actions for so long, however, that this was the final hurrah. She was willing to give it one more shot, but if it didn’t happen this time, she was moving on to more important things. That’s why she’d finally decided to recruit Max Dalton for the task.

She’d secretly crushed on him from the moment she’d first talked to him on the phone more than a year ago. More importantly, while he might be a tomcat, Melina trusted him completely. As such, so did Grace. She trusted him to be discreet. She trusted him to be kind. And she trusted him to give her what she needed in the end.

Turning slightly on her stool, she scoped him out. As usual, he wasn’t alone. The brunette he was talking to was the antithesis of Grace, who was slender and blond with pale skin. Grace dressed to flatter her body but still exuded magnolia blossom more than vamp. The brunette was beyond overt, with hair down to her waist and a voluptuous body poured into a tight midnight blue dress. It showed off her ample breasts and mile-long legs to their best advantage. She looked confident in her sexuality, as did Max, who was grinning broadly—although his smile seemed to dim a little when the woman ran her finger down his arm.

When Grace imagined it was her touching him, a current of desire zipped through her chest and settled low in her tummy. Good Lord, he did it for her, but who didn’t he do it for?

He dressed formally when he was performing on stage. Now that the show was over, he’d lost the jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his button-down shirt, exposing the corded length of his forearms. Even with most of his body covered, it was apparent he was strong, with broad shoulders, hard thighs and a sexy ass. He moved with confidence and, despite his sandy brown hair and sparkling green eyes, he exuded a tall, dark and handsome vibe.

Experienced and more than capable of giving a woman exactly what she needed in bed—and then some.

Last year, Melina had even asked Max for sex lessons. Granted, he and Melina had been friends for years, and Max had only pretended to agree as a ploy to finally get Melina and Rhys together. While Max and Melina hadn’t had sex at the appointed time (the same couldn’t be said for Melina and Rhys), Grace would bet he’d had sex with someone that night. Sex for Max was like breathing was for most people. Natural. Comfortable. Bountiful.

She faced the bar again. As she did, the fabric of her blouse rubbed against her nipple piercings. The friction caused by the dainty gold hoops with tiny silver balls exacerbated the tight achiness she already felt staring at Max. The piercings, including the one between her legs, had been one of her more desperate attempts to feel sensual and maximize her sexual pleasure. They turned men on plenty. As for the pleasure they’d given her, the piercings actually lived up to their promise. Manipulating them brought her to orgasm much faster when she was masturbating. When she was with a man, however? Great for ratcheting up her arousal but just like everything else she’d ever tried, useless when it came time to bringing it all home.

She turned back to look at Max.

He was finally alone. Now was her chance. But still she hesitated.

That’s what came with being a little too self-aware.

What made her hesitate was fear of rejection, yes. But more than that, it was the knowledge that while she was here to ask Max for an orgasm, that was the least of what she really wanted from him. In her heart of hearts, she knew asking him to get her off was just an excuse to get closer to the man who had steadily begun to fascinate her more and more. And that man wasn’t the one with the playboy reputation or the electric charisma on stage. It was the man she’d gotten glimpses of over the past year. The one who was so affectionate with Melina. The one who pumped his fist in the air when Melina and Rhys walked down the aisle as man and wife, and danced with his mother at that same wedding, then boogied with the crowd to “YMCA.” The man whose gaze she sometimes felt on her and wondered if perhaps… just maybe… he was as attracted to her as she was to him.

He was the man she wanted to get to know better, but she knew it was dangerous to think that way. No matter how many layers he seemed to have, Max was the quintessential playboy. He wasn’t going to magically transform into a monogamous family man who fell hopelessly in love with her simply because she had sex with him. If she was going to do this, she was going to have to do it knowing the most she would get out of the experience was release, not happily ever after.

She could do that, right?

Finally, when she was able to answer that question in the affirmative, she braced herself to stand. Just then, someone sat on the stool next to her and touched her arm. It was the brunette.

“So you decided to go for it?” The woman didn’t even try to flag down the bartender. She just looked at Grace, a definite challenge in her eyes.

“Excuse me?” Grace asked, even though she knew exactly what the woman was referring to. Who she was referring to. Good Lord, had she been that obvious? Stalking Max like he was some kind of prey?

The brunette smiled. “Don’t worry. He hasn’t noticed you.”

Right. Gloves off, Grace thought, as her spine stiffened.

“Chill out. I didn’t mean it that way. You’re gorgeous and Max does like variety. He’s obviously done with me. I just want to make sure you know what you’ll be getting into, that’s all.”

Hmm. Still on guard, Grace remained quiet. The brunette was going to have her say, so what was the point? Besides, Grace always did have too much curiosity for her own good.

“See, Max only has one speed. Fast and furious. He’s really good at showing a woman a good time. Multiple times. All night long, if you get what I mean.”

A rock would get her meaning and the woman’s words were making her regret coming. Which was undoubtedly what the other woman wanted. Max might be done with her, but she was obviously not done with him. Her next words confirmed it.

“You seem a little… delicate… for what Max dishes out. I’d think twice about taking him on. But even if you can handle him, don’t expect it to last long. It never does with Max. Just thought I’d do my duty for the sisterhood and let you know.”

Mentally, Grace told the woman what she thought of her advice in southern terms: Opinions are like assholes, some are just louder and smellier than others. What she actually said was, “Well, bless your heart,” while deliberately exaggerating her southern drawl. “You must think I don’t have the sense God gave a goose to be making a play for Max. Good thing I’ve always relied on the kindness of strangers.” Her tone was sugary sweet, but as she held the woman’s gaze, it was apparent they understood each other. The brunette had warned Grace off. Grace wasn’t about to give the other woman the satisfaction of listening.

After the woman left, it took Grace a couple of minutes to gather her courage again. The fantasy of Max doing her—hard and fast and furious, all night long—was both a temptation and a deterrent. If things went as usual for her, he’d spend the whole night not getting what he normally did out of a woman. But…

She took a deep breath and spun her stool in Max’s direction yet again.

Instead of catching his eye, she caught him staring at the ceiling. The energy he’d had while talking with the brunette earlier had seeped out of him. Unsmiling, he tilted back his head and seemed to let out an audible sigh. His facial muscles relaxed and he appeared to be relieved. Grateful to finally have a moment alone.

It was yet another layer to add to the others she’d already witnessed.

Max Dalton might very well be a celebrity and a player, and a man who could give a woman multiple orgasms, but at that moment he was just a man craving some peace and quiet, something he obviously didn’t get enough of.

Who was she to intrude?

He glanced over and met her eyes. Surprise flickered across his face—he knew she was in town visiting Melina but he was probably wondering why she was here alone—just before he lifted his chin, his facial muscles tightening. She saw the tension come over him and she heard his thoughts loud and clear.

What now? What the fuck does someone else want from me now?

Grace’s belly heaved to and fro.

Her cheeks heated and she shot him a small smile before spinning around. Her crush aside, she didn’t know the real Max Dalton. She’d only met him a few times. Melina asking him a favor was one thing, but her? She’d been viewing him as some kind of sexual object, expecting him to do her an insanely intimate favor just because he happened to like sex in general. The brunette’s words proved there were some who viewed Max as a means to an end, and she was no better.

“Hey.”

She glanced up at the bartender.

“Were you waiting to talk to Max? He’s alone now, but that’s not going to last. If you want a shot at him—”

She nearly winced. How much of her conversation with the brunette had the bartender overheard? Shaking her head, she smiled slightly. “He looks tired so I don’t want to disturb him. I’ll chat with him some other time.”

“You sure? Because he’s actually coming this way.”

“What?” She glanced over her shoulder and stiffened. Max Dalton was indeed headed straight for her.

Damn, damn, damn. What was she going to do now?

Her heart pounded, pushing her into panic mode. Jumping to her feet, she searched her bag for her wallet, then dropped a few bills on the counter.

Suddenly, a redhead with boobs spilling out of her strapless sequined top grabbed Max’s arm. He glanced at Grace, his jaw tightening and his eyes reflecting impatience as the woman blocked him.

Grace used that opportunity to escape. Holding her purse tightly against her, she wove through the crowded nightclub, feeling Max’s gaze on the back of her neck.

“Grace!”

She stumbled slightly when she thought she heard Max call her name but didn’t stop. Finally, she pushed out the door, her heels clicking along the crowded Vegas sidewalk. Her heart pounded wildly as tears burned behind her eyes but she blinked them back.

Then strong fingers gently clasped her arm and she swung around. With a feeling of dread, Grace looked up and met Max’s gaze.

“What the hell, Grace? Why are you running from me?”

She gulped. The feel of his hands gripping her arms—gently, but firmly—made her shiver. She pasted a smile on her face. “Oh, hi Max. I’m not running, Sugar. It was just time for me to leave.”

He let her go and crossed his arms over his chest. “Uh-huh. And you didn’t hear me calling you?”

“You called me?” she asked, eyes wide, her tone obviously forced. Lord, she was such a horrible liar.

Slower than molasses going uphill in January, his gaze traveled down her body, taking in her outfit. A rose-colored halter, black skinny jeans and heels. Definitely club worthy and sexier than anything he’d ever seen her wear. When his eyes finally met hers again, she couldn’t help but gasp.

His expression was hot. Scorching. And unless she was mistaken, he looked like he wanted, really needed, what the brunette had said he was very good at providing. Fast and furious sex with a woman all night long. Sex with her.

Before she could stop herself, her gaze traveled to the front of his pants where sure enough…

The evidence of his obvious desire ignited her own.

She’d come here for a reason and now she had her opening.

The question was whether she was going to reach out and take it.

The answer was a resounding no.

She couldn’t.

Couldn’t endure being in Max’s arms only to have him witness her inability to do what so many other women seemed to do so easily. Besides, although he’d checked her out and seemed to like what he saw, it was probably just reflex. She was dressed up. He was on the prowl. More importantly, she’d actually been running from him. His hunter instincts had kicked in was all.

She started to back away. “I’m sorry, Max, but I have to go. It was good seeing you again.”

“Damn it, wait.”

At the commanding tone in his voice, she instinctively stopped. She held her breath as he walked toward her. That breath whooshed out of her lungs when Max lifted a hand and cupped the side of her neck. She gasped at how delicious his touch felt, how it was both tender and inescapable, and his eyes darkened to a deep burnished jade.

“What’s going on, baby? Why are you here?”

The way he stared at her, intense and deep, coupled with the way he called her baby, almost made her knees buckle. They certainly quivered, as did that tender spot between her legs. Heat washed over her then exploded when he skimmed his thumb across the line of her jaw. The way he was looking at her… as if he saw something in her that others didn’t, as if he liked what he saw and wanted to spend some time exploring it and hoped that’s what she wanted too… made a foolish hope start to bloom.

“Grace,” he said. “Answer me.”

“I—” She licked her lips, noting how his gaze dropped to her mouth as she did so. “I came to ask you…”

When she paused again, he leaned closer, until she could feel his breaths on her mouth, like tender air kisses teasing her with all that could come next. “Grace, I know you’re having a problem with something. You don’t know me well, but I think you know I’ll help you if I can. So tell me. What did you come to ask me?”

She took a deep breath and wondered if she was really going to say it, right here on the street. But the way he was looking at her, the way he was touching her… she wanted more of that. She wanted it too much.

Her gaze flitted away from his. “Max, I can’t…”

He raised his other hand so he was cupping both sides of her neck now. It made her feel boxed in. Trapped.

And she never wanted him to let her go.

Instinctively, she gripped both his wrists.

“Grace. What did you want to ask me?”

“You’re being far too bold, Max. I’m not going to—”

“What did you want to ask me, Grace?”

“Will you please stop—”

“Dammit, just tell me.”

“I want you to give me an orgasm!”

They both gasped.

Oh God, she’d actually blurted it out.

Max looked shell-shocked. But she had to admit, he didn’t exactly look turned off by the idea.

His expression softened, if softening and burning could happen simultaneously, and he moved even closer, covering the throbbing pulse at her neck with his thumb. “Baby—”

“Max.”

They both jerked at the sound of someone calling his name.

Grace looked over Max’s shoulder at the gorgeous blonde gliding toward them while a bevvy of what appeared to be reporters trailed after her. A few people on the street stopped. Stared. Pointed.

Max cursed under his breath, stepped back, dropped his hands, and turned away from her. Grace felt the loss of his touch like a slap. He cursed again and said over his shoulder, “I’m sorry, Grace. I have to—” His words cut off as the blonde threw her arms around him and kissed him. Grace felt like she’d been run over by a train. Twice. Mortification flooded through her flattened remains and her skin turned as cold as a cast iron outhouse on Christmas day.

Oh God. Oh God.

She’d just said she wanted him to give her an orgasm and he was obviously dating this gorgeous woman.

Oh God.

Camera flashes went off.

Paralyzed, Grace waited for Max to pull away and acknowledge her. Waited for his attempt to ease the embarrassment and humiliation he had to know she was feeling.

Instead, he wrapped his arms around the blonde and kissed her back. Passionately.

The crowd hooted and hollered, and more camera flashes went off.

Finally, the couple pulled apart. The blonde buried her face in his neck, now seeming embarrassed by the attention she garnered. Max darted Grace a quick glance, a slightly strained smile on his face. But then he turned back to the blonde, shielding her even as he maneuvered her through the reporters hurling questions at them and towards Club Lodi.

Even after they disappeared into the crowd, Grace stood there for several minutes. People on the street bumped her as they passed. Abruptly, she began to laugh.

It was either that or cry. And she’d already made a big enough fool of herself. Despite what she’d tried to convince herself, she’d obviously still harbored hope that there was more to Max Dalton than met the eye. That he could give her more than sex.

That she could give him something special in return.

That he could at least be a decent human being.

All it had taken to get her there was him coming after her, calling her baby, and asking her what she’d wanted and she’d virtually stripped herself naked in front of him.

At which time he’d kissed another woman and left.

She was such a fool.

Without looking back, she walked away, checked Operation Orgasm off her mental list, and forced herself to contemplate what came next.