Vaughn led her across the terrace toward the main bar, where the two men with whom he’d walked in earlier were having drinks. The taller man with brown hair nudged the blond one with glasses as she and Vaughn approached.

Vaughn stopped in front of them, giving them each a stern look. “Don’t make me regret this.”

The taller man laughed. “Who? Us?”

Vaughn made the introductions. “Sidney Sinclair, this is Cade Morgan and—”

The blond man jumped in. “Seth Huxley, Vaughn’s partner.” He shook her hand.

Cade was quick to follow. “It’s nice to meet you, Sidney. Vaughn has told us”—he paused, glancing over Sidney’s head at Vaughn—“nothing. Nothing at all about you. Who are you, again? Yeah, I don’t think she’s going to buy that one, Roberts.”

“You’ll have to excuse us if we seem a little excited,” Huxley explained to her. “Vaughn doesn’t introduce us to a lot of women.” He thought about that. “Or any, really.”

Vaughn clapped his hands. “Okay . . . clearly, some people have been drinking and getting loopy while I’ve been gone.” He turned to Sidney. “Ignore them. They don’t get out much. Sad, really.” He leaned down, speaking in a low tone only she could hear. “And before you ask, they’re both taken so, no, I can’t set you up with them.”

She snapped her fingers. “Damn.”

“Just so I know: if I buy you a drink, is that likely to increase or decrease the sassiness?”

“Oh, increase, for sure.”

“Good.” His voice was low and flirty in her ear. “I look forward to it.”

Delicious sparks of heat curled low in her stomach.

He flagged down the bartender and ordered them both drinks. While chatting with his friends, she learned that Cade had just gotten engaged. The vibe among them quickly took on a celebratory tone, heightened by the fact that tonight, apparently, was one of the rare nights that Vaughn and Huxley were unarmed, having left their guns at home—per FBI policy—since they’d known they would be drinking. Then Trish joined them, and this seemed to be even more of a cause for celebration, and suddenly they were all toasting to girls’ nights out, and moms’ nights out, and special agents’ nights out, and the drinks really started flowing.

Somewhere along the way, Sidney felt Vaughn’s hand brush against hers, and then he ran his thumb lightly over her fingers and drew teasing circles against her palm. Feeling a little warm, she stepped away from the group and headed off to the restrooms, all private, unisex rooms. She found one that was unoccupied and was just opening the door when she felt Vaughn’s hand grab hers, tugging her the rest of the way inside.

He locked the door and instantly was on her, pinning her against the wall as his mouth hungrily claimed hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he settled against her, the hard ridge of his erection pressing between her legs.

“Are you drunk?” he asked, his voice thick with desire.

A little, yes, and so was he. “I feel good.” When his hand found the slit of her dress and slid up her bare thigh, she moaned. “Keep going.”

He slid his hand into her lace underwear and cupped her. “You’re wet, Sidney. What have you been thinking about?”

She curled her hands around the lapels of his jacket and gave him a hot, open-mouth kiss in answer.

When he pulled back, his eyes burned into hers. “I’m taking you home tonight.”

“What about your seven-day rule?”

His answer was low and gritty.

“It’s after midnight. You’re mine now.”

 • • •

IN SIDNEY’S BEDROOM, Vaughn watched as she slowly unzipped her dress and let it fall to the floor. She stood before him in her black lace bra, underwear, and heels. He had no doubt that many men at that bar tonight had fantasized about this very image, and now she was all his.

“Lie down on the bed,” he said. He was definitely feeling the effects of the alcohol, and he could tell that she was, too. But her eyes still had that saucy, confident gleam that always seemed to be challenging him.

She lay on top of the bed and crossed one high-heeled leg over the other. She gave him a coy look, as if to say she was waiting.

He took off his jacket, uncuffed the buttons on his sleeves, and walked around to the foot of the bed. He grabbed her by the ankles and pulled her toward him, then leaned down to take her mouth in a slow, deep kiss. When he pulled back, he guided her up to a sitting position and knelt between her legs.

“After I take these off,” he said, hooking his fingers into her lacy underwear and sliding them down, “you’re going to spread your legs. Then you’ll put your hands on your knees and hold yourself open for me.”

“Will I now?” she asked.

“You will if you want what comes next.”

Her eyes flashed, but she did what he asked.

His c**k began to throb at the sight of her on the bed, legs spread and naked except for her bra and heels. “You are the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Vaughn,” she said in a husky voice. “Touch me.”

He was all too happy to comply. He slid his hands underneath her ass and tilted her hips upward, then gave her a long, teasing lick between her legs.

She moaned, her hands tangling in his hair. He took her hands and put them back on her knees. “Keep yourself spread for me. Show me how much you want my mouth on you.”