The phone rang, snapping Bex’s attention away from her computer screen. “Hi, Ruth, what’s up?”

“Your photographer is here, hon,” answered the X Enterprises receptionist.

“Can you show him to the studio? I’ll meet him there.”

Bex straightened her computer keyboard and shuffled her design notebook into the corner of her desk. The surface of the desk was covered in a rainbow of colored pencils, pens, and even watercolor paints, not to mention electronic components and empty product molds. She’d also tacked a bundle of Pantone chips to her pinboard to ensure she found just the right color for each project. No sense in making a couple’s vibrator in a girly shade of pink. No sense in a white anal plug either. Ha.

When Bex looked at her materials, she saw potential. Flesh out a mold in silicone, and you’d have a toy that could help someone live a more pleasure-filled life. Over the years, X Enterprises had received plenty of customer fan mail about her toys from people who’d had their first orgasms or finally allowed themselves to enjoy safe sex after living through traumatic experiences. She’d also heard from people proud to take charge in their own lives and from couples who’d been brought closer together by the act of play. If getting to enjoy her own sex life was a byproduct, well, that was a perk of the job. Even more awesome than a 401k and paid time off. Or, close.

Bex strode down the hall toward the photography studio, passing a display case that held a handful of her top-selling vibrators and dildos. While X Enterprises usually advertised their products with 3D renderings, the company also hired photographers often enough to dedicate a whole room to the activity. Something about real life made images pop, and every now and then you’d want a model to pose with a product. Adding a person to the mix could give your customers a sense of perspective and scale.

She slipped into the photography studio and stopped short.

Holy shit.

Her hookup was here.

Gabriel Marx—the Gabriel Marx of the mind-blowing orgasms and overly-skilled fingers—stood with a camera slung around his neck and a light meter in hand, bent over a hot-pink vibrator. He was so focused on adjusting his camera settings that he didn’t notice her, and she whirled to leave the room.

This was not happening right now. It was one thing to have a one-night stand when you could keep your dignity about it. It was another thing entirely to have your one-night stand show up at your place of employment to photograph a sex toy you’d designed.

Oh god.

Footsteps rang at her back. “Bex, where are you going?” Emma asked.

Gabe looked up at the sound of Emma’s voice, and Bex froze in the doorway, caught between the two of them.

The blood drained from her face. “I was just…” Bex tried again, gasping a little. Didn’t Emma see? “There must be some mistake.”

Emma peered over Bex’s shoulder, her perfectly-groomed eyebrows rising as she spotted Gabe. “Oh hey, didn’t recognize you without the club lights,” she called to him.

If he was shocked, he hid it well. “Surprise,” he said. “Small world.” His body stayed alert but relaxed, and he didn’t seem to feel the need to run from the room. Bex, on the other hand…

Emma’s body still blocked Bex’s exit, and Bex twisted to escape past her.

“No way.” Emma caught her wrist and lowered her voice so only Bex could hear. “There’s no mistake.” Then she shoved her all the way into the room. Some friend.

Across the room, Gabe stared at Bex with an amused smile on his face.

She lifted a hand. “So, hey. What are you doing here?” He raised his camera and smirked. “Right.” She nodded. “You’re a photographer.”

“The top product photographer in Las Vegas,” Emma said. “Avery thought he’d be perfect for the job.”

God, this was awkward. Should she pretend she wasn’t intimately acquainted with Gabe’s cock? Pretend she didn’t know what it felt like to come to pieces around him? Or should she just woman up and shake his hand and act like it was normal for her one-night stand to show up in broad daylight wearing a button-down shirt that she kind of, sort of, wanted to rip off of him?

“Everything okay in here?” Jeremy Glass, X Enterprises’ CEO, poked his head into the room. He was in town for a few days, and there was nothing like seeing her boss to kick Bex back in action. Jeremy was one of the judges of the upcoming design competition. She needed to hold it together in front of him and prove she deserved to win.

She unclenched her hands and nodded. “Just getting started.” Jeremy ducked back out of the room, and Bex’s shoulders relaxed.

“So I know what I’m doing here,” Gabe said as the door swung shut behind Jeremy. “But what are you two doing here?”

Bex blushed, but Emma smiled. She was having way too much fun with this. “Well, I’m here to fill in for Avery in PR and make sure you have all the products you need. And Bex is here because, well, that pretty little number in your hand is her invention. And since all these toys are hers, she’s going to help you find their best angles.”

Gabe’s eyes danced, and his mouth twitched like he was fighting a smile. “Is that so?”

“Yep,” Emma continued. “Since it looks like you’ve got everything you need, I’m going to head back to my desk. Bex can help you if you need anything else.”

Emma flounced toward the exit, her blond waves bouncing. It was a shame she was so pretty. Bex was going to kill her anyway.

Emma turned in the doorway before she left and mouthed, “You’ve got this,” at Bex. Which, of course, she didn’t.

A thousand butterflies lifted inside her stomach the moment she was alone with Gabe.

“You told me you were a product designer,” he said quietly. He zipped a finger up and down his camera strap. Maybe he was nervous, after all.

Bex lifted a shoulder. “I am. Adult products.”

His look of amusement made her squirm. “Fancy that. I wouldn’t have thought you had much experience with sex toys with the way you got off so easily the other night.”

She winced. Did he have to remind her? “Yeah, well, that night was an exception. And anyway, toys aren’t just there to solve problems. They can also help you enhance the great sex you’re already having.”

He grinned, bringing out that damn dimple.

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t look so proud. Anyway, all you’re doing is reminding me of why I don’t tell people about my job.”

“What do you mean?”

She waved her hands at him. “That look on your face. The second I tell people I’m a sex toy designer, what do you think they think of me?”

“That you’re awesome.”

She shook her head. “Or that I’m a slut. People try to take advantage of me or turn me into a fantasy instead of a human.”

But Gabe wasn’t looking at her like that. He studied her like she was a puzzle to unlock, something fascinating and consuming. His face was kind, and for the first time in a while, she wanted to be known. God, she was such a sucker for a nice smile, and he had the full-face kind, with eyes that crinkled around the edges. And those dimples.

Dammit.

“Okay, fair point.” Gabe raised his hands. “And no judgment from me. So should we do this?”

Do what? Kiss? Fuck? Spar?

“I mean the shoot,” Gabe said.

Right. The damn shoot.

Okay, fine. She could do this. Deep breaths.

“Yeah,” she said. “You can start with the vibrator on the table, and get a few images. We’ll go from there.”

“Sure thing.”

Bex arranged herself on a desk chair and watched as Gabe worked. He’d brought in a whole array of fancy lights to the studio, and he controlled them with ease. He bent over the vibrator, a compact version that now seemed slim and underwhelming compared to the perfection of his own manhood. Her face heated. Dammit. It was so hard to think straight around him.

“Why don’t we take a few pictures of you holding the vibrator?”

She jerked up her head. A smile curved across Gabe’s lips, and amusement winked in his eyes.

Her cheeks burned. “Oh, no, that’s fine. We can just do standalone shots for now.”

The lady doth protest too much, methinks.

Of course Shakespeare would pop into her head at a moment like this. Hamlet, Act III, Scene II. Her brain was a repository for useless facts.

“We could really use a hand model. And, look, your nails match the toy.”

What was he trying to do here? Bex glanced down at her nails and huffed out a breath. Every week she painted her nails a new color. Sitting on her couch and watching trashy TV while they dried was like cheap therapy. She admitted a particular affection for Real Housewives reruns, letting the reality show and nail polish fumes blast her brain cells.

Now she cursed herself for her polish habit and for her celebratory idea of pairing today’s polish with the toy: Orgasm Pink. If she hadn’t gone into the sex toy industry, it would have been fun to name nail polish colors.

Bex forced a smile and looked up at Gabe. His eyes were already fixed on hers, and it made her pause, her stomach bottoming out.

“Okay, fine. Just show me what to do.” She walked across the room and lifted the toy. It was a pretty one.

Gabe stepped forward, moving with the same confident ease he’d displayed in the bedroom, and the air sucked right out of her. It was too late to run, but being this close to him was dangerous.

“Here.” He brushed his fingers over hers and molded her hand to the toy. Bex squirmed, burning under his touch. She fought the urge to lean into him, into the rich scent of his cologne. Why did he have to smell so good?

Gabe stepped back, lifting the camera to his eye, and she was almost disappointed. He snapped a few photographs, asking her to arrange her hands in different positions as he worked. “I’ve gotta say, Bex, this was a nice surprise.”

“My sex toys?”

He laughed. “All of it.” He lowered the camera and met her eye. “Ready for one last one?” When she nodded, he said, “Say ‘sex toy.’”

He raised the lens and snapped a picture of her laugh.

Emma knocked on the doorframe of the studio and stuck her head inside. “Things almost wrapped up in here?”

Bex glanced up with a ten-inch dildo in her hand and a smile on her face. For the last hour she’d acted as Gabe’s hand model, and though her fingernails didn’t match any vibrators after that first one, he didn’t seem to mind. The more time she spent with him, the less she wanted to run away. She still wanted to kill Emma, though.

Bex raised an eyebrow at Gabe, and he nodded. “Should be just about done.” He snapped a final image and smiled at her. “You can return your magic sex toys to wherever they came from.”

“Thanks.” Bex folded her stupid hands behind her back, resisting the urge to touch him. How was it already five o’clock?

Gabe slipped the camera strap over his head, then settled the camera into his bag and secured it in place. She glanced around the room and frowned. “Can I help you pack anything up? Emma’s going to put away the toys.”

He smiled at her like he knew the offer was a white flag. “Yeah, that would be great.” He showed her how to break down the light stands, and she folded together their legs to make them easier to carry.

They worked, side by side, Gabe’s shoulder so close to hers she could feel the heat of his body. “So, Bex.” She turned, and their noses were an inch apart. Again. The last time this had happened, she’d wound up naked and so well-fucked she couldn’t think straight. “Can I treat you to dinner as a thank you?” His low voice made her stomach tremble, and her pulse kicked up.

Bex stumbled backward and almost crashed into a camera bag. She was going to make some bad decisions the longer she hung around him. “That’s really sweet of you. But I had plans to go out with Emma.”

Gabe turned to look over his shoulder, and she shot a pointed glance at Emma, who’d finished carting off the vibrators. Come on, Emma. Take the hint.

Emma’s face flashed a mischievous look for a hair of a second. “Actually, I’m starting to feel a little out of sorts.” She frowned. “You know. Sick.”

Motherfucker.

Emma sealed the deal by faking a cough.

Bex was going to kill her twice. First for leaving her alone with Gabe, and then for bailing on her again. Emma may have loved to play matchmaker with the rest of her friends, but it wasn’t going to work with Bex. Especially not with Gabe. That’s not where this was going.

But the man turned back to her, hopeful and—dammit—endearing. “What do you say? Going to let me feed you?”

She liked him. She liked that he was good with his body, that he made her laugh, and that when she started getting all dorky about technology he kept looking at her like she was gorgeous.

Shit.

Bex sighed. “Okay, fine. But to warn you, I’m not one of those girls who doesn’t eat.”

Gabe looked so delighted. “I like a woman with an appetite.”

She rolled her eyes. “Good,” she said. “Then let’s go.”