For five months now, she’d had her sights set on Taylor. The first time she’d seen him behind the bar in Nightlife, she knew she had to have him. He was dark and intimidating, his skin nicely tanned to the color of coffee with cream, the black eyes glittering so intensely…well…he lit her up inside with his rough-boy good looks. But he wasn’t the typical bartender type. He looked more like a bouncer. Not only in the way he was built—huge and muscular—but in the way he constantly scanned the crowd, his gaze always moving, always severe. Except when he looked at her. His eyes seemed to lock onto her every so often, burning her skin with intensity.

Nikki hadn’t hurried even with Taylor. She hadn't spoken to him until a month after she'd first seen him when she entered Nightlife again. She had never been into the club scene, even once a month was a lot for her, but with him behind the bar it gave her a reason to go. They managed to talk a bit when the band was taking breaks and the music came down to a level where you could speak without yelling. She knew he had a weakness for pineapple. While they talked he’d spike a piece with a toothpick from a bowl he kept on the bar to use for tropical drinks and pop it into his mouth, holding it there, savoring it before he chewed. Nikki wanted to taste that mouth of his, sample the sweetness of the pineapple, warm from his heat.

She’d told him about that last boyfriend she’d had. Boy was the operative word. Craig definitely was no man. He hadn’t lasted long, not with her appetites. When it came to sex, she tended to let herself go. Craig had thought she was too wicked. He just didn’t know what felt good. But Nikki would bet that Taylor did.