May 7, 2013
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Grace Wilde owns a swingers club—but rarely indulges in the fun. It takes a newcomer like Mike Nottingham to sway her. Pure country. All animal. And up for a good time. But can two people who thrive on independence find a compromise between absolute sexual freedom and total commitment?
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Mike Nottingham cocked a brow at the gold foil lined envelope sliding across the table. He glanced up at his friend Denver McKenzie. “What’s this?”
Denver slashed a wicked smile and tipped his glass of scotch in a toast. “A gift. You look tense.”
“Understatement.” Every muscle in his body was wound tight. Getting away from work for four days had helped. The conference here in Las Vegas had been worth attending and he’d learned a lot. But what he’d really been looking forward to was the vacation he so desperately needed. He glanced down at the envelope. “You got me a present.”
“I don’t suppose there’s a bottle of Jack Daniels in there.”
Den snorted. “You can get one of those yourself. What’s in that envelope you can’t.”
“So what’s in here?”
“Exclusive club. Invitation only.”
Intrigued, Mike opened the envelope and pulled out the single embossed card, read it and glanced up at Denver. “Wild Nights?”
“Right up your alley. I figured since you had some time to kill while you’re here, you’d want some fun. You’re not really the showgirl or BunnyRanch type. I thought you might want something a little more out of the ordinary, and definitely private.”
Den knew him well. Friends since their college days and through veterinary school, he and Denver went way back. Den knew Mike’s predilection for the wild life. Even the name of the club fit Mike’s personality. He did his job as a veterinarian in Oklahoma. He made nice with his customers and he loved his animals. But at night and on his own time, he liked to cut loose, especially sexually. So did Den. Which had a 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.”
“Figured you’d zero in on that. Grace Wylde is the owner of Wild Nights.” Den spelled her last name.
“Intriguing doesn’t begin to describe her. Gorgeous, mysterious, keeps a bit to herself 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 on.
Every table was clean and polished, not a single speck of dirt could be found on the parquet floors. Beyond the bar and dance floor were double doors leading to the private rooms. She greeted everyone, the staff relaxed and joking around, waving at her as she walked by.
It seemed the only nervous one was her. Then again she had the most to lose. Wild Nights was her baby—had been for the past four years. It was incredibly successful, but she kept waiting for failure to occur, for no one to walk through those doors when the bouncers opened them. So far that hadn’t happened. Lines of the uninvited waited outside, hoping against hope they’d have a chance to get in. But Grace was very particular about her clientele, catering to her clients but also careful about protecting her staff. She invited the best of the best, only those who could be trusted. She wanted people to enjoy her club, but she wanted it understood that her people must be kept safe. She loved her staff and if any one of them was ever hurt, she’d never forgive herself.
Wild Nights was a place of fun. For her patrons, her staff and for her. Her clients paid a high price for that privilege, her staff was compensated extremely well to work here, and no one loitering outside was permitted entrance without an invitation and their name on the club list. No exceptions. Ever. And even those invited in were quickly escorted out the door if they didn’t follow the rules. No second chances. The club ran smoothly because of her rules.
And she was proud to say that once in, no one wanted to get the boot. What they found inside Wild Nights was something they couldn’t get anywhere else. Sexual freedom. No rules, no restrictions, only pleasure. If it was mutually consensual, it happened here.
Making her way back to the front entrance, she nodded at the bouncers who flicked open the deadbolts at the door and walked outside, ready to let in the regulars and the select few newcomers who possessed a coveted invitation and a place on tonight’s list.
The games were about to begin.
Grace palmed her stomach, mentally calming the jitters and pasting on her best smile of greeting. People began to pour in. Some she knew because they came every night, some she recognized as regulars who showed up when their schedules allowed it, and others held invitations in hand signaling their first trip to Wild Nights. Those were the ones she’d make a concerted effort to cater to tonight.
Some were men and women who came alone, and others were couples. She never asked the reasons people frequented Wild Nights. Everyone had their own individual desires, tastes and reasons for doing what they did. And those reasons were as personal as her own desires—she wouldn’t dream of infringing on anyone’s privacy.
Tonight there were five first timers—two men, one woman and a couple. She already knew their names and had read their short bios. One of her staff would escort them to the drawing room where she’d greet them, introduce herself and give them a brief orientation. Then they’d be free to enjoy the club and all its amenities. She hoped they liked what they saw and came back again. And again. Repeat business was very good for the club.
Once everyone was inside and Grace had said her quick hellos to the regulars, she headed toward the drawing room, breezing through the open doorway. One of the attendants closed it behind her. A quick glance sized up the newcomers. A very nervous couple in their early thirties swinging for the first time, one rich corporate exec who enjoyed being dominated, a female out for adventure—newly divorced and extremely pissed off at her philandering ex-husband, and a dark, enigmatic man who caught her eye right away.
He slanted a gaze her way and smiled. His bio was unremarkable, and he came recommended by one of her best customers, Denver McKenzie. But what was his story? Mystery—she liked that in a man.
“Good evening everyone. My name is Grace Wylde and I’m the owner of Wild Nights. I’m very happy you decided to join us and hope you find something to your liking at the club.”
One of the waitresses brought cocktails and handed them out. Grace took the glass of brandy Selena handed her. “Thank you, Selena.”
Grace settled into one of the single upholstered chairs set in a circle in the drawing room, took a swallow of brandy, then began.
“Wild Nights caters to anything and everything you could possibly desire, sexually, as long as it’s mutually consensual. Nothing is prohibited, as long as it’s legal. We do not tolerate drug use, pedophilia or bestiality, or use of nonconsensual force. If any of my staff is abused in any way, you will be promptly escorted from the premises and held outside until the police arrive. Please know that I will press charges for assault on behalf of any of my staff members who are harmed. This is not a house of prostitution. No one is paid for their services. My staff like sexual pleasures and if they consent to have sex with you, then you are free to join them. You can also enjoy sex with any of the other guests at the club who agree to it. Safe sex is practiced and is a must—no exceptions. Condoms can be found in every room.
“There are many rooms and scenarios set up for your enjoyment, from straight sex to gay and lesbian, as well as fetishes, bondage and discipline, pain and torture, voyeurism and exhibitionism, menage, oral and anal sex, masturbation—any one of a multitude of sexual pleasures await you.
“If you have any questions or concerns, my staff are set up throughout the club to assist you. You will see them wearing the appropriate Wild Nights shirts. There are video monitors set up in every room. Everything you do is watched. If you have a problem with that you are free to leave, but there is no corner, nook, cranny, closet, bathroom or room in this club that is not seen on video. This is for your protection as well as the safety of the staff.”
She finished her spiel and took a sip of brandy, letting what she’d said soak in before continuing. “Does anyone have questions?”
“What’s your favorite room?”
That from the tall, enigmatic man. Every night there was at least one like him who targeted her specifically. She could script it perfectly. As soon as she finished her speech he’d linger, hit on her, so confident in his own sexual prowess he’d expect her to select him as her partner for the evening. Granted, he was gorgeous. Well built, exuding sex appeal through midnight blue eyes that screamed sensuality.
But she chose her partners with care and she was never indiscriminate. This one had a lot to learn. She offered a half smile in response. “That, Mike, is my secret.”
He arched a brow, cracked a smile and nodded.
“Any other questions?”
No one spoke up. “Then enjoy your evening.”
As everyone stood to leave, she waited for him to approach, already prepared to let him down easy. She’d given her speech a thousand times before. She knew how to preserve a man’s ego.
But he surprised her, linking his arms with the single woman, whispering something in her ear that caused her to tilt her head back and laugh. Without even a backward glance in Grace’s direction, Mike Nottingham strolled from the room.
Grace was an expert at reading people, especially men. And she was never, ever incorrect. Her instincts were always right on. But she’d guessed wrong about Mike Nottingham.
Intriguing. Definitely intriguing.
Mike barely tuned into the redhead on his arm, blathering on about her ex husband’s infidelities and how she was going to show him who could be wild and sexually crazy.
His mind, his entire body, was tuned into Grace Wylde.
Grace. Yeah, the name fit. She walked with it, talked with it—hell, she exuded it. He’d never seen a more beautiful woman. And he’d definitely been with his share of gorgeous ladies. But not one with raven hair and eyes the color of wild violets. Not one tall, slender, without the big tits and curvy body of a centerfold, but more like a ballerina. Small breasts, long legs, slim hips. She took his breath away, and it had been a damn long time since any woman had been able to do that.
His cock hardened just looking at her. She spoke of elegance, refined beauty, with a smoldering passion underneath just waiting to be uncovered.
And she was ready to blow him off in a millisecond. He’d sensed that when he’d asked her about her favorite room. He was no dumbass—he’d been playing this game far too long. The telltale smile gave her away. A woman like her must be hit on every night, and probably more than once. There wasn’t a line she hadn’t heard or had a snappy comeback for.
Time for retreat and reconnaissance. Time to just watch and figure out how to approach without her throwing an obstacle in his way. Because he wanted more than just to fuck her. He liked hearing the sound of her voice. He wanted to know the hows and whys of her involvement with Wild Nights. She was intriguing.
And Mike hadn’t been intrigued in—
He wasn’t sure he’d ever been intrigued by a woman. This was a first.