As they pulled into town, Reeve turned into an empty shopping center parking lot, thinking it was a damn good thing that he’d been able to keep them on the road with her hand sliding over his crotch. Her exploration of his body had surprised him a little. Especially when she’d lingered above his hard-on the way she had.

Now, as he brought the bike to a stop and killed the engine, he wasn’t sure if he would be driving her home or not. Good God, he hoped she wanted the same thing he did.

She made to let go of him as soon as the motor quieted, but he quickly lowered his forearms to rest above hers, trapping her to him. He leaned back a little and turned his head as far as he could. Her cheek was still plastered to his back, and man it felt good to have her this close.

He cleared his throat before he spoke. “Where can I take you? And please say my place.”

“I was thinking about that,” she said, squeezing him harder. He could feel her against the entire length of his back, and it was driving him insane. Letting go of her arms, he lowered his hand and let his fingers glide up and down her shin. Her skin was incredibly smooth, but bumps rose under his fingers as he touched her. What he wouldn’t do to get into that control-top underwear. The thought made him grin. He should have known a woman would have secrets under a dress that tight.

“And what have you decided?” he asked.

He’d had a few women on his bike, but not many. It usually made sense to follow them back to their place. But nothing about this woman fell into line with the status quo. Years of living in a combat zone, training under excruciating circumstances, and living with his mother had sharpened Reeve’s intuition. And despite her earlier comment about casual sex, he would bet money this was something new for her. Knew that she was battling inside between her baser desires and her common sense.

He had to convince her that it just made damn good sense to let herself live a little. Something told him if their bodies broke this amazing contact some sort of spell would be broken, so, using his feet for leverage, he shifted on the seat a little, turning his torso to the side so he could see her better.

Their eyes met, and he took in the rosiness of her cheeks, craziness of her hair, and the now tangled dick headband bobbing on her head. Somehow, she managed to look adorably ridiculous and sexy as hell all at the same time.

“You know we’re not done with each other, Whip,” he said, lifting his right hand to stroke her jaw with the back of his knuckles. Her eyelids fluttered, and she leaned into his touch just the slightest bit. She probably hadn’t even realized she’d done it. “Come home with me. I’ll make sure you won’t regret it.”

Her eyes focused on his for a long moment before dipping down to his lips. And that was all it took. Reaching back to cup her head, Reeve pulled her lips against his. The angle was all wrong, him half turned, her leaning over his shoulder. But that didn’t make it any less amazing, especially when she reached up with her right hand and gripped the back of his neck, holding him to her.

The kiss was messy and poorly executed, but it didn’t matter. He opened his mouth over hers and the second he felt her tongue he was confident her answer would be yes. He’d make her say it, of course, but if her words didn’t match the tone of her kiss, she was lying to herself.

“What’s it gonna be? Can I have you?” he asked between small pecks. She gave the sweetest little whimper in response as he sucked her bottom lip into his mouth.

She pulled back just long enough to mutter against his lips. “Yes. Please, yes.”

This time it was his turn to groan and he pulled harder on the back of her head, not wanting to lose his connection to her hot mouth. After a moment his back was ready to cramp, so he managed to release her and quickly turned to face the front, started up the bike again, and headed for his place—which, thankfully, was only five minutes away.

Once they pulled into his driveway he opened the garage and parked the bike inside before making short work of reaching for her hand to help her. They hadn’t said a word to each other since her breathy Please, yes, and he was starting to feel a little wary about her silence. He led her back outside and up to the front door of his place.

As soon as he turned the key in the dead bolt, he pushed open the door and pulled her inside. The familiar panic of having someone new in his house fell over him, but he managed to shut down the internal dialogue so he could instead back her into the wall and lean against her. “You still want this, right?”

To help her relax he slid his hands up her hips, dipping into her waist and along the sides of her breasts—all without touching her inappropriately. Suggestively, sure, but nothing more.

She nodded, licking her lips. “Yes I do. I just . . . can I have a moment? Do you have a restroom?”

Reeve smiled. “You’re in luck. I do have a restroom.”

He was grateful when she laughed quietly, her body noticeably relaxing. She was nervous. That didn’t mean she was going to change her mind. If she did, he would honor that. Absolutely, no doubt. But damn, he wanted her bad and he was willing to be persuasive, which was why he responded by leaning in and kissing her deeply.

His hands went into her hair, his pelvis pressed into hers. Her mouth didn’t hesitate to respond in kind, nipping and biting back at him before opening up and letting him in deep. Finally he was done reminding her why this was a good idea and took a few steps away from her. He angled his head toward the hall on the other side of the room. “Down and to the right.”

“O . . . okay. Thank you.”

He flipped on a lamp and watched her walk through his living room, her tight-as-hell dress shifting over her rather perfect ass.

He heard the bathroom sink come on and made his way to the kitchen, unsure what to do with himself. Should he get them a drink? He stood in the refrigerator door for a long moment, thinking. Beer? Wine? Water? Shit, he had no idea, but he wanted her to be comfortable. Well taken care of. For some reason, as much as he knew this was a one-night stand, he wanted it to be special. Memorable at the very least.

He closed the fridge and stood in the small galley thinking for a long moment. Then he heard the bathroom door creak open, followed by the sound of her heels clunking on his wood floor.

“Reeve?” she called out. The sound of his name on her lips was amazing.

“In here,” he said. When she entered the kitchen, he was relieved to see her smile. She’d removed the headband—which was a shame, as he’d become a little fond of it. “Can I get you a drink? I’ve got beer and wine. Coke?”

“Actually, just some water would be nice.”

He nodded and then grabbed a bottle from the fridge and handed it to her. He went ahead and got one for himself and watched as she took a drink. Damn, maybe he shouldn’t have come in here and broken the mood. She set her water down on the counter and, acting on instinct, he stepped right into her personal space, twining her fingers with his own and lowering his head to inhale her. Without having to be instructed she let her head loll to the side, giving him access to her neck. She let out a deep sigh as he took advantage, his mouth latching onto the taut skin just below her ear.

“I’m glad you’re here.” He spoke in between licks. “The minute I saw you, I wanted this. Wanted to get my hands on you. My mouth.”

Her only response was a hum deep in her throat, and he worked his way across her jaw and up to her lips. He pulled back just long enough to mutter, “Did you enjoy being on the bike?”

The feel of her smile against his mouth answered his question. He placed small kisses on her full bottom lip.

“I did. It was wonderful.”

“I’m glad. I found it pretty enjoyable also.”

She laughed, the sound low, throaty, and a little wicked. It was such a turn-on he couldn’t help taking her mouth in a full kiss just then. Thankfully she returned it with as much excitement as he gave.

“I’d be happy to lay you out on the counter. But you might enjoy a bed a lot more,” he suggested, wanting to get her permission every step of the way.

“Yes.” Her breathy answer blew against his cheek, sending nerves zinging down his torso and settling between his legs. He had a feeling this woman had no idea what she was doing to him. He was dying to show her.

Reeve continued kissing her while he backed her out of the kitchen and through the living room toward the hallway. He was surprised but pleased when she slid her hands under his shirt as she’d done on the bike.

“God, I love it when you touch me like that.”

“Then touch me back,” she said.

Oh hell yes. He could only pray that she would continue to be vocal about what she wanted. He loved that in a woman because as far as he was concerned the more talking in bed, the better. Well . . . as long as it was composed mostly of words not appropriate in polite conversation.

He obeyed her command, reaching around her arms to the zipper between her shoulder blades, fumbling with it as they continued to kiss. Just as they made it to the bedroom door he’d gotten the zipper down as far as the top of her ass, and she pulled away long enough to push the material over her breasts. Thankfully he’d left a lamp on in here earlier.

“Daaamn, look at you.” His words were clumsy and inadequate to describe the sight in front of him. She’d had no bra on under the skintight dress, and her full breasts could not have been more perfect if he’d dreamed them up. Full, round, and firm, with rock-hard nipples.

He palmed one in each hand, squeezing gently, and went back to her mouth because kissing her was so good he felt like he could do it all night. Her lips were soft and ripe, the taste of her so sweet it was like getting drunk on expensive champagne. Not that he’d ever had any, but he knew it would be just like this.

The back of her legs hit the bed, and Reeve let his hands slip down her torso and work her dress the rest of the way off her body while she stood before him. He went down on his knees as he tugged it over her hips, taking her in as he went. Her stomach was firm but her body still had plenty of curves to get lost in. Then he realized she’d lost the granny panties in the bathroom. He slid the dress down a little more, happy to find that she’d in fact lost all her panties in the bathroom. He groaned and looked up to meet her eyes.

“Figured I might as well be ready for you.” She gave him the sexiest little smile and laid her hands on his shoulders to steady herself.

“Holy shit, yes. I want you ready. Wet and ready.” His mouth went to her navel and he placed openmouthed kisses down the center of her soft stomach, breathing in the scent of her skin. He loved the way she shivered, her stomach muscles clenching at every touch of his lips.

The dress continued its journey over her hips, and when she was fully exposed to him, he couldn’t help running his nose up the length of her, inhaling her scent.

The sound of her breath hitching and the shifting of her legs together let him know that she was close to losing herself. Right now it felt as if he’d never wanted anything more in his entire life than to hear this woman come apart.

He gently tapped her calf and she knew what he wanted, lifting her left foot so he could pull the dress off completely.

And then she stood completely naked in front of him.

Looking up at her once more, Reeve licked his lips as their eyes met. “Lie down, Whip. I’m going to lick every inch of you.”

* * *

This was a million, billion, trillion times better than reading a sexy book. There was no comparison. In fact, she wasn’t sure how never experiencing this ever again was going to work for her. She was going to be addicted to this feeling, and when she considered the fact that it was already this good and they were still just getting started, it made her dizzy. There was absolutely no doubt in her mind that she’d made the right decision coming here tonight. She deserved this.

Emily did as Reeve instructed and sat down on. He stood up to hover over her as she used her arms to pull herself onto the mattress of his perfectly made bed. Lying back, she rested her head on the pillow, trying not to get lost in the lingering scent of Reeve that floated up around her. It was the sexiest, manliest smell, and she wanted to turn over and roll in it like catnip.

Instead she did something better: She watched as he reached over his shoulder, grabbed ahold of his shirt, and pulled it over his head. Emily had to bite the tip of her tongue to keep from making a sound. Torsos like the naked one standing above her were usually only found on television or in movies, but this one was oh so real. She could see the hint of a sexy tattoo curling around the edge of his back. For a second she was tempted to ask him to turn around so she could inspect it, but decided anything that halted the removal of his clothing was a bad idea.

His pecs were well defined, and he was hairy. Not overly, just perfectly so. Manly so, across his chest and down the center of his stomach where it trailed underneath his jeans. She’d felt him there earlier, but seeing it was a dream come true. Things like this did not happen to Emily. Ever. Which was exactly why it was so right. Necessary.

He continued to undress, stripping out of his jeans, and finally pulling off his boxer briefs without a bit of hesitation. He didn’t give her much time to admire his endowments—although she could tell he’d been blessed, or in this case, she had—before he was settling onto the bed and pushing her legs apart. Another night, with a different man, she might have taken a moment to protest or been embarrassed at being spread open and bared like this, but he hadn’t given her a chance to be squeamish and that made it even more erotic. She had obviously chosen the right man to fulfill the lust-filled fantasy she’d been developing over the past few months.

To be taken.

Skin met skin as his pelvis, stomach, and then chest touched her own. His mouth came down on hers once again, and she gave herself up, immediately opening to him. Kissing Reeve was a near-religious experience, and better than full-on sex she’d had with other men, which meant either he was amazing at it or her previous lovers were subpar. Both were accurate, she was certain.

The sounds of their making out made her even hotter, the wet sucking, licking, and small moans that came from each of them. She’d never noticed how erotic the sound of kissing was, but good Lord it was turning her on even more than she already was.

“You feel so good beneath me.” His hand plowed into her hair and gripped her head. He tilted his lower body in order to grind himself against her, and it was the most delicious sensation she’d ever known. His forehead dropped down onto hers. “It makes me want to do really nasty things to you, Whip.”

“Do them. Please. That’s what I want.”

“Is it? Because as much as I want to spread your legs and take you hard, I also have this urge to take my sweet time with you.”

She felt frantic. “Take as much time as you want. But don’t be sweet. I want . . .” She swallowed hard, wondering if she could come out and say what she really wanted. In for a pound, she decided. No point in being shy when you were splayed naked underneath a strange man that you’d never see again.

Oh God, she was splayed naked underneath a strange man.

And it was wonderful.

“Tell me what you want.” Reeve continued to rock his pelvis into hers, making clear thought nearly impossible. But she did know the answer, without question.

“I want you to be . . . dirty.”

He grinned down at her. “Do you? And what exactly qualifies as dirty for you?”

Oh God, he was going to make her spell it out? This was supposed to be his specialty.

“You want me to say nasty things in your ear?” he asked.

Her eyes fluttered shut, loving the sound of his voice. She nodded.

“Or do you want me to fuck you long and hard?”

“Yes, both,” she cried, breathless.

“Huh. I could do that. But is this going to be all about you? What if I’m in the mood to treat you like you’re fragile and sweet? Are you just using me to get you off, Sarah?”

Emily opened her eyes, almost fearful of what she’d find because although she figured he meant to be playful, there was a slight edge to his words. But thankfully when she looked he’d already begun to make his way back down her body, his lips trailing a path of sensation over her bare skin. When the heat of his mouth enveloped a nipple, her back came off the bed and she let out a gasp. His tongue laved at her repeatedly and then his teeth clamped down, giving a gentle tug. He moved to the opposite breast, giving it the same attention.

“You didn’t answer me,” he said, his breath warm against her stomach as he made his way down to exactly where she wanted him. His warm breath sent a chill over her wet folds. It was excruciatingly wonderful. “Are you using me to get you off? Because I can do that. I just want to know what you need.”

Emily nodded. “Yes, get me off. Please.”

With that he dipped his head and ran his flattened tongue up the entire length of her, long and slow. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she gripped the sheets tight in her palms.

He wasn’t gentle or sweet. His hands were firm and bruising on her inner thighs, pushing them back while his thumbs held her open for his mouth.

“Oh . . .” she gasped, nearly unable to breathe as he went at her with his lips, tongue, teeth.

“Grab my head, Sarah,” he said. His voice was muffled and she could feel his lips move against her skin. “If this is about you, you’d better show me how you want me.”

Letting go of her vise-grip on the sheets, she did as he said, threading her fingers through his hair to grip his head. He let out a low moan and began to lick at her again, his tongue pumping in and out of her. “You like that?”

“Mmmhmmm.” Her answer came out on a moan.

His tongue moved higher, his strokes firmer as they flicked over her. “Or do you like it here? Like this?”

Sucking in a shaky breath, Emily tilted her head to look down at him, and the sight nearly made her insane. She would grow old fantasizing about this image, her red fingernails tangled in his dark hair, her thighs spread wide for him. As if he knew she was watching, he looked up and their eyes met.

“Put my mouth where you want me.”

She couldn’t resist him right then. God, he was so damn handsome, so ready and eager to please her. He leaned down and nudged her with his nose one more time before she cupped his cheek. “I want you inside me, Reeve.”

“And I want you to come on my face.”

“Get up here,” she whispered. “Please.”

Within seconds he’d grabbed a condom from beside him, put it on, and was on top of her, lips crashing down onto hers. His entire mouth was slick and wet, and he kissed her lips the same way he had down below. Ruthlessly, without sweetness or finesse. It was a plundering of her mouth and it was the best and most erotic thing she’d ever experienced.

Pulling his head up, he looked into her eyes long enough for her to flush, and then she had to look away from their intensity. This was dirty sex, and there was no place in it for emotional intimacy.

His mouth came down on hers once more and he murmured against her lips. “You ready, Whip?”

She nodded, wanting nothing more, and then he entered her in one deep thrust. His low groan vibrated against her cheek, and she nearly died from the pleasure, because his body was made like no man she’d ever been with. The width of his shoulders, the weight of his hard chest pushing her down, and the tautness of his ass where she held on for dear life.

“Shit, you’re . . . so tight . . . warm,” he whispered against her lips. Their eyes met again, and although she wanted to look away, she couldn’t. Two long and slow strokes in and out of her body. Between the look on his face, and the gentleness of his movements, she was beginning to feel . . . too much.

“Damn, you feel so good.”

That was it. She needed to put some shields up quick, bring this coupling back to fantasyland where it belonged. Pushing her embarrassment aside, she forced her needs out of her mouth.

“Please give it to me hard.” His increased pace, and the way his hands gripped her hair, let her know that he liked her whispered comment. That emboldened her, and it was so arousing to know that she could affect this man with words. “You feel so big. So deep. Please . . .”

She heard her own whimpering voice, lust-filled and desperate, but she didn’t care. He muttered something that sounded like “slow down” but her body was incensed. She was so close to release.

“Harder, Reeve. Fuck my pussy hard.” Oh God . . . she’d said that out loud . . . and it felt . . . freeing.

“Holy . . . goddamn.” His groan was nearly animal as he picked up the pace of his thrusts. And then Emily felt him give the slightest jerk. “Shit . . . Oh, ffffuuuuccck . . .”

The tone of his words was pure frustration mixed with ecstasy and then just like that he was suddenly slowing down. Reeve’s forehead rested against her, his breath puffing against her lips in warm bursts. What the hell had happened?

“Did you just . . .”

“Yes! Damn it,” he bit out. Followed with a sigh and a curse. “What do you expect when you start throwing out words like big and . . . pussy?”

Emily couldn’t help herself. She let out a strangled laugh. Not because this was funny. But because it was so damn typical. Not even five minutes ago, she was primed and ready to go off with the next stroke of his tongue. Now reality came crashing down.

“This isn’t funny, Whip.” His voice was muffled because he’d smashed his face into her neck.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. Um . . . do you mind?” Tapping the side of his butt, she signaled for him to get off her.

He obeyed, rolling to one side. He quickly dealt with the condom and then turned back to her, holding her captive with one large arm. “We’re not done here.” His hand trailed down her torso, fingertips tracing the line of her waist down to her hip. “I’m not done until you are.”

“Your flaccid member begs to defer,” Emily said, frustrated. The stunned look on his face made her suddenly feel like the ultimate bitch and she quickly covered her hand with his. “Reeve, I’m sorry. It’s fine. Really.”

“No, it’s not fine.” He brushed her hand away easily and found her center and stroked her gently. “You’re not leaving my bed unsatisfied and that’s all there is to it. Look at me.”

They went quiet, the mood in the room shifting. There would be no naughty words coming from her lips now. And she definitely could not look into his eyes. It was bad enough that he was placing soft kisses on her neck just below her ear.

“Tell me your name,” he whispered. His fingers found just the right tempo on her clit, and Emily pointed her toes.

She shook her head in response to his question, her eyelids closed tight. Her right hand went grasping for something to grab onto and encountered his inner thigh. She squeezed the muscle there and he shifted his legs to lock her hand between his strong limbs. The move felt possessive and oddly intimate, especially with the back of her arm pressed against his dick.

“Come for me . . .” he whispered.

Things had changed. They were no longer engaging in carnal, wicked sex. He’d let her down and he knew it. His response was to instantly make it up to her. That in and of itself was a complete turn-on. This was all about him pleasing her, and it was too much.

“Oh God . . . Reeve.”

“That’s it, babe. Let go. Let go and look at me.”

For the briefest moment, she turned her head toward him and their eyes met. He was tilted up, resting on his elbow, watching her with the most intent, heated expression. And she still couldn’t go there, so she turned away as her body went over the edge.

She’d come here tonight looking for something she’d never experienced before and never again would. And that’s exactly what had happened.

* * *

Emily walked across the tarmac of the Manhattan Regional Airport, wind whipping through her skirt around her legs. Her pilot, Dave, greeted her with a smile as she ascended the small staircase into the plane.

“That wind is insane,” she said, pulling a hair from her lipstick. “Will we have any trouble?”

Dave gave her a long look and she replied with a wink. She’d been flying with the now silver-haired man since she was a little girl. In fact, there were few people she trusted more.

When Emily inherited the title of CEO of LAM Theaters—short for Little Apple Moviehouse—she’d immediately considered selling the small jet. Such a frivolous expense had seemed like an obvious place to cut costs. But her grandfather’s attorney—and her only true adviser at the time—had urged her to hold out for a bit. That, mixed with her sentimentality toward the aircraft and Dave, had given her pause.

She could still remember summers with her grandfather after her mother had married the general and they’d moved to the East Coast. He’d either stop and get her, or send Dave to pick her up. The scent of the leather, the soothing sound of Dave’s voice, and just the pure relief of knowing she was going back home to Manhattan had been enough to make everything better.

Keeping the jet had proven a wise decision, and it was especially convenient for days like today, when Emily could invite Amanda and her mother, Pam, to tag along so they could pick up Amanda’s wedding dress at the bridal shop in downtown Kansas City. As for her, she had a meeting with some of her general managers about the rolling out of a new marketing campaign for the summer.

If her grandfather had still been alive he might tell her that she was too hands-on in running the company he’d gifted her in his will. In many cases, he might have been correct, but Emily had absolutely no doubt that her approach was the only reason she’d been successful in taking the struggling theater company and turning into a small but mighty force in the industry.

George Phillips had been old-school. At one time his beliefs and tactics had built a small midwestern empire comprising 112 theaters in eleven states. It had afforded him a gorgeous home in Manhattan, Kansas, where the company was headquartered, a vacation home in Galveston, Texas, and the small private jet she was sitting on. It had even fed and put Emily in an apartment through her years at Stanford. But he’d failed to see that the industry was changing in the new millennium. While other theater companies were adding on reclining chairs, restaurants, and 3-D viewings, he was holding on to the small-town feel of his theaters. Unfortunately, those small-town folks were willing to drive to the major cities to experience a movie on a massive screen while they drank a handcrafted draft beer with their nachos. Digital streaming hadn’t helped, either.

She’d tried talking to him about it repeatedly, and although he’d given her the benefit of listening, he’d been adamant. While she’d respected the genius he was and the businessman he’d once been, she’d had no qualms about bringing LAM Theaters up to scratch the minute she took over.

Fresh out of college, she’d gotten a job in the marketing department of a regional convenience store chain in Sacramento. Quickly she’d worked her way to the head position, effectively helping them turn their business right-side up with her campaigns and ideas.

When she’d moved back to Manhattan to take over her grandfather’s theater company, she’d set out to do the same thing only on a bigger scale. And it had been even more exciting and fulfilling because it was her family’s business.

Her overhaul had started with restructuring: She’d closed over twenty moviehouses that no longer made sense and invested in the ones that served multiple communities. Over the past four years she’d rebranded, hired a new marketing team, installed new seats and screens, and revamped the menu. LAM Theaters had become her life, and she was proud of the fact that she’d turned it back into a highly profitable company. If only her grandfather were here to see it.

Sitting down in her seat, Emily pulled out her phone and read the text that had just buzzed through. It was Amanda. We’re parking! Don’t leave us!

Emily smiled as she typed back a reply. I own this plane, remember? We take off when I say so.

Ten minutes later Emily heard her friend’s voice as she made her way toward the small stepladder outside the door. Always the gentleman, Dave went down the steps to help the women.

“Mom, hurry, but watch your step,” Amanda said. “We don’t want any bruises or casts in the wedding photos.”

Emily walked to the doorway in time to see Dave board with a bright floral bag. She laughed and held out her hands. “Here, I’ll take this.”

He handed off the bag and passed her on his way to the small cockpit. “We good to go once they’re on board, Ms. Phillips?”

“Yes. Thank you, Dave.” She’d invited him to call her Emily for the past six years, but he never did. Not even Miss Emily, like he used to. But she admired Dave’s devotion to tradition.

Emily smiled and held out her arms to Amanda, who was buzzing with excitement.

“Look at this. Mother, do you see this?” Amanda asked as she hugged Emily.

“I do, sweetie.”

Amanda pulled back. “I still can’t believe my best friend owns a private jet. And it’s about time I get to ride in it. We should have flown this baby to Vegas for my bachelorette party.”

Emily shook her head. “I’m sure Dave would have loved that. And this isn’t such a big deal. Many companies have planes.”

“Yeah, except my best friend owns this company. Where do I sit?”

There were four main seats and one small side chair. Emily held an arm out. “Whichever one you choose.”

“It’s lovely in here. Leather seats and everything,” Pam, Amanda’s mother, said as she looked around. “A bit cramped, though. Hope I don’t get a touch of claustrophobia.”

“It’s definitely not like the planes you’re used to, that is true.” Emily smiled.

“Is there no toilet?” Pam asked, her face panicked.

Emily motioned to the small seat by the door. “It’s more of an emergency-only kind of setup.”

Pam’s look of uncertainty remained.

“It’s only a twenty-minute flight, Pam,” Emily assured her. “But if you need to run into the airport we will certainly wait for you.”

“Maybe I should at least try. I had a Diet Coke on the way here.”

“Be careful on that ladder, Mom.” Amanda rolled her eyes and Emily sat down in the seat across from her.

“So, have you called him?” Amanda asked. No context was required because Amanda had texted or called Emily with the same question at least twice a day for the past four days. The fact that this was the first time they were having the conversation face-to-face wasn’t going to change Emily’s response.

“No, I have not called him, and I have no intention of doing so, either.”

Amanda shook her head. “You may not intend to, but you want to. I know it.”

“No I don’t. The guy served his purpose. I’m over it. Done. Finished.”

“I still can’t believe you walked home alone. You know you should have called me. With that dress and those heels, you’re lucky you didn’t get picked up for solicitation.”

“Well, since I wasn’t soliciting there wasn’t a chance of that.”

“You could have been mugged or raped.”

“No, it’s Manhattan, Kansas. Even the frat boys are passed out by four thirty in the morning. Besides, he lived less than fifteen minutes from my house.” Emily would never admit it, but she had been a little freaked out when she’d sneaked out of Reeve’s house and trekked home at the crack of dawn. Talk about walk of shame.

“Did you take a photo of him before you sneaked out of his place?”

“What? No! It would have been creepy to take a photo of him sleeping. Plus, I was too busy frantically dressing in silence.”

“Hm. Then I guess you’re not interested in the photo I took of him at the bar.”

“What? When?”

Amanda laughed. “Gotcha! I can see the excitement on your face, lady. Don’t try to tell me you don’t think about calling this guy.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “So did you take a photo or not?”

“Of course I did. You were about to leave with a strange man with big muscles who you clearly didn’t trust enough to tell your name. I definitely needed a way to identify him in a lineup.” Clearly Amanda needed to cut back on her television viewing.

“It was never about trust, Manda. You know I would never have left with someone had I not felt I could trust him.”

“Okay, so you wanted anonymous sex. Fine. I get it. You deserve an escape from your awful, demanding, life.” Amanda’s voice was thick with sarcasm as she raised a hand up to envelop Emily’s expensive suit and private jet. But Emily knew her friend well enough to catch the teasing tone. “Seriously, though, you do deserve it. But I just want more for you than a one-night stand.”

“I used to want that, too.” Feeling twitchy, Emily got up and retrieved a couple of bottles of water from a small refrigerator behind the seats. She passed one to Amanda. “But so far it has been my experience that men can’t handle my job. They always start off thinking it’s great. Then inevitably they start butting in. Asking questions, giving advice. I don’t need a man looking over my shoulder, thinking he knows best.”

“You know some of that is just part of being a couple. I know Devon and I don’t have nearly as big a job as this, but we talk things over all the time. Share work troubles, ask each other for advice.”

Emily shrugged. “Maybe it’s just the men I’ve been dating.”

“Or maybe you don’t like giving up control. You know that asking for help with something is not a sign of weakness.”

“Of course I know that.”

Amanda lifted one perfectly groomed eyebrow but kept quiet as her mother boarded the plane once again.

“It’s a good thing I did that.” Pam was breathless from her rushed trip into the little regional airport. “I might have been using the emergency toilet seat.”

They all laughed as they got seat-belted in. Within five minutes Dave was taxiing them down the runway and into the sky. Emily leaned her head back and closed her eyes. As often as she flew, and as smooth a pilot as Dave was, she never liked takeoffs or landings. She squeezed her armrest and breathed deeply until she felt the small plane begin to level out.

Then she remembered what her friend had said not ten minutes before. Emily’s eyes flew open and landed on Amanda, who was staring out the window at the farm-dotted plains below.

“Manda, dear,” Emily said sweetly.

“Huh.” Amanda didn’t take her eyes off the view.

“You were going to send me that link you wanted to show me. Remember?” Emily certainly wasn’t going to revisit the conversation about Reeve and the One-Night Stand in front of Pam. She adored Pam, who had in many ways been a second mother to her, but there were some things even a grown woman didn’t want to discuss with her best friend’s mom and casual sexcapades was one of them. Although she had a feeling Pam would love every minute of the conversation.

“Huh? What link was I supposed to send you?” Amanda looked confused. Emily gave her a look and nodded at her phone. “Ah, oh yes. The one you were dying to see again.”

With a cocky grin Amanda poked at the buttons on her phone, and within seconds Emily’s phone buzzed. Holding her breath, she opened the text, and her heart nearly stopped.

Despite what a busy week it had been at LAM, she’d thought of little besides this man. The way he’d kissed her, the scent of his sheets, and the feel of his leather jacket hugging her body. And although the sex hadn’t gone quite as planned, it had still shot to the top of her list for best sex ever. She wasn’t sure what that said about her experience but she didn’t care.

The truth was, she did want to see him again. His number had been burning a hole in her phone. She’d pulled up the text she’d sent to Amanda with his number and address several times. She had all his information. And now she had a reminder of how sexy his face was. Amanda had obviously sneaked it while she was standing at the table giving him the third degree. He was looking over at Emily, a sly grin on his face. His profile was so masculine, so handsome. She should delete it from her phone because the best thing she could do was forget that night. They’d had their fun and it was over.

Hesitating for a long moment, her fingers hovering over the screen, Emily finally pushed the little trash can icon and approved the deletion of the hottest thing that had ever happened to her.