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passing several girls getting ready for an upcoming show.
    “Good show, Ang.” Heather, a petite blonde who’d been working at the club for several years now, called. She was on next.
    “Thanks Heather. Good luck.” Angela waved as she hurried past and collapsed moments later into the chair at her dressing table. Her hands shook as she pulled the folded twenty from its spot in her g-string and opened it. The card was the same as the last two, his business contact. Flipping it over, she found neatly scrawled on the back: Golden Chalice. 815.
    The Golden Chalice was one of the hotels on the strip. He’d given her his room number.
    She slumped back against the chair and closed her eyes. It was a blatant invitation, but one that left the decision up to her. The question was, what did she want?
    ****
    Angela clutched her hands together, a potent mixture of excitement and nerves winding through her, leaving her fidgeting like a small child as the elevator crept upward. It stopped at three different floors to let off passengers. She had to stifle a groan after each one. The ride seemed to take forever.
    When her shift at the Diamond ended fifteen minutes ago, she hadn’t been aware of where she was headed. She hadn’t made the conscious decision until she found herself in the Golden Chalice’s lobby, staring at her reflection in the golden mirrored doors as she waited for the elevator. She’d never done anything this bold in her life. The excitement of that pulsed through her body. She leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes, visions of Alex forming in her mind. She could almost feel the velvet of his skin, could almost taste the flavor of his tongue.
    The elevator lurched to stop, and Angela opened her eyes in time to see the doors ding open. The hotel name and emblem—a golden goblet, its bowl wide and tulip shaped, the stem flaring out from the base—adorned the wall across from her, beneath which stood the number eight.
    She swallowed hard and stepped out into the quiet hallway. The red carpeting silenced her steps as she followed the gold lettered signs to where Alex’s room stood at the end of the hall. She stared at the black metal numbers adorning the door, lifted her hand, then paused. Panic set her pulse pounding. What if he recognized her? Would it put an end to their night? Would he still want her?
    Part of her wanted him to know it was her, yearned to know what he’d say. Part of her was terrified of exactly that.
    She closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip, trying to summon her courage. Visions of him filled her mind. She felt again the touch of his lips as he’d kissed her the night before. Remembered in full, vivid detail the sheer power of the passion in that kiss. Then opened her eyes and knocked on the door.
    No turning back now.
    The door swung open to reveal Alex, and her breath caught in her throat. She bit her lip, unable to resist soaking in the sight of him. He wore the same clothes he’d had on when he’d left the club, a pair of khaki slacks and a light blue button down shirt, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows.
    He looked delicious. The shirt hugged the contours of his body, shifting as he moved, hinting at the solid muscle that lurked beneath.
    One hand on the door, he tucked the other in his pocket. “You came.”
    His voice was a low rumble of pleasure that lit up her insides. Even the tips of her fingers pulsed with the excitement that fizzled through her body. The truth hit her, pooled low in her belly, hot, sensuous, and undeniable. She wanted this, wanted him . Whatever uncertainty she’d felt in the elevator flitted away.
    “Yes.” The word left her mouth on a breathy exhalation.
    He stepped back, pulling the door open wider. “Come in.”
    Her body brushed his as she stepped across the threshold, an electric jolt coursing between them in that one simple touch. She stopped two steps into the room and turned to him. Tension rose thick and palpable, something