As the elevator rose to Jason’s penthouse, a steady thump of base grew louder. I should have declined the invite, should have stayed at home with Hannah for the night. But I didn’t. The promise of seeing Willis was too much, even though I knew in the end, I’d wind up hurting him beyond repair. Because that was who I was. He was the good guy. I was the villain in disguise.

The elevator opened, and I walked into Jason’s small foyer. Men’s voices rose from the living room with the obscenely large TV, and the delicious scent of hot wings filled the air. I followed the noise and the smells to find several men lounging on Jason’s sofa, talking and watching athletes compete in the combine.

Willis rose from a chair near the floor-to-ceiling windows. “Hi.” He walked over to me, meeting me at the island in the kitchen that was filled with all the staple foods of the finest frat houses—wings, ranch and blue cheese sauce, chips, dips, pretzels, and beer.

I grabbed a paper plate and looked up at Willis. It slipped from my fingers.

“What the hell happened to you?”

He knelt and grabbed my plate. “Allergic reaction.”

“You look like you somehow found a stash of poison ivy in this concrete jungle and rolled around in it.”

He ran his fingers along his neck. “Yeah.”

Jason strode up. “I see you’ve touched base with our disfigured friend here.”

“It’s not that bad.” Willis shook his head.

“Yeah.” Jason snorted. “I mean, lots of women are into handsome faces and Freddy Krueger necks.”

“Whoa.” I laughed. “Shots fired.”

Willis shrugged. “All I heard was that Jason thinks I’m handsome.”

“Yeah man.” Jason nodded. “If I swung that way, you’d def be my power bottom this evening.”

Willis scoffed. “Bottom?”

“Yeah. I’m obviously the top.” Jason popped a pretzel into his mouth, crunching with a smile.

Willis crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m the top.”

“I don’t think so. I mean, I feel like you’d want to be the top, sure. But then you’d see that I was the better top.”

“No way. I would top the hell out of you.”

“That would never happen. I don’t have a submissive bone in my body.”

“If I were the top, you’d have a dominant bone in your body. Heh.” Jason elbowed Willis. “But don’t worry, I’d do a solid reach-around for you.”

“No you wouldn’t, because I’m the top.”

I’d been listening, my eyes traveling from one man to the next as if I were watching a tennis match. “I can’t believe you two are arguing about a hypothetical gay relationship and who would be the hypothetical top.”

“He started it.” Willis shrugged.

“But I’d finish it.” Jason leaned closer to me, his eyes mischievous. “In his butt, because I’d be the top.”

“This is likely the most bizarre conversation between two straight men I’ve ever witnessed.” I loaded my plate with wings and blue cheese dip.

“Hey, I’m secure in my straightness.” Jason grabbed another pretzel.

“Me too.” Willis took a chicken wing, stuck the whole thing in his mouth, and pulled it out clean. “My masculinity is intact.”

“I can see that.” I grabbed a chicken wing and did the same thing, only the bones remaining once I pulled it from my lips.

“Damn, now that’s a real woman.” Jason grinned and clapped Willis on the back before returning to the guys in the living area.

I had to admit, the idea of the two of them together was enough to light any woman’s panties on fire.

A toilet flushed in the small hall behind the kitchen. Water ran, and then Elias strode out.

His eyes lit up when he saw me. “Hey, Scarlet. Is Hannah here?”

“Sorry, she stayed in tonight.” I demolished another hot wing as Willis stared. When he licked his lips, I dipped my finger in the blue cheese and sucked it off my fingertip.

He turned his hips toward the island cabinets, hiding what I knew was a thick erection with a perfect head.

“Oh, well.” Elias’s disappointment verged on cute.

A guy like him would be perfect for Hannah, but she wasn’t ready for a relationship. Not until Pauly was paid, and by that time, neither Willis nor Elias would want anything to do with us.

The thought put a damper on my mood. I told myself for the hundredth time that I was doing the right thing, that saving Hannah was more important than anything else. But as I looked in Willis’s guileless eyes, I began to question myself. I grabbed a bright red wing from the spiciest batch and ate it, the burn a painful reminder that the stakes were high, far higher than even Hannah knew. A little pain—okay, a lot of pain—would be required to save us from Pauly.

Elias wandered off toward the big screen as I hopped onto one of the stools at the counter, staking my claim on the food. Willis sat next to me and double-dipped chips into the dip on my plate.

“But really”—I said around a mouthful of chips—“what did you do to your neck?”

“I used a Strawberry Feels bath bomb.”

I swallowed the mass of fried potato goodness. “I didn’t know we had that in common.”

“What?” He grabbed another hot wing. “Bath bombs?”

“Nope, allergic to the feels.”

“That’s not true.” He smiled. “I rather like feels.”

“Yeah?”

“Especially when they involve feeling you…” He leaned close to my ear. “Naked.”

Goosebumps rose along my shoulder. “Careful, you don’t want to overmix the metaphor.”

“I’d say it’s more of an idiom, but tomayto, tomahto.” He grabbed two beers from the tubs full of ice, opened one, and handed it to me.

“I guess you won’t be calling me tonight.” I took a swig, the IPA filling and almost sweet.

“No.” He popped his bottle open and drank. “I intend to do a live action re-creation of all the stories I’ve told you.”

I smiled and scooped up some onion dip. “What about my onion breath?” I chewed and swallowed.

“I’ll survive it. Besides, your mouth is for dessert. The main course is more of a delicacy. Pink and best served hot.”

Holyyyyyy. I pressed my thighs together to quell the tingle in my clit.

He noticed the movement and grinned. “Don’t worry. We can leave early.”

“You’re pretty sure of yourself for a guy covered in boils.” I talked a big game, but damn, the promise of his mouth on me again had me wishing for some privacy.

“Like I told Jason, I’m a top.” He tilted my chin up and kissed me. His lips were firm, but his touch remained soft, teasing. Pulling back, he said, “And they’re not boils. Gross.”

“Hey, Willis!” Elias called from the living room.

“What?” he yelled back, but didn’t take his eye off me.

“Jason’s interested in the Shitake Shocker.”

The men walked over as Elias described the toy’s functionality with what could only be described as schoolboy glee.

“That’s great.” Willis handed me a paper towel. “But Scarlet’s got an early morning tomorrow. I’m going to make sure she gets home safely.”

I whipped my head around. “Wha—”

“That’s my boy.” Jason grinned, all good looks and perfect teeth.

“No, she just has to get up—”

“Since when?” I shot Willis a glare and downed another chicken wing.

“Oh, don’t be silly. You need your rest. A thorough, deep sleep.”

I stopped mid-chew and weighed my need for calories versus my need for Willis’s mouth.

The chicken wing slipped from my fingers.

Jason waved his hand. “No explanation needed, you two.” He scooted around the counter and pulled out a plastic container, which he then loaded to the brim with food. “Let me fix you a to-go plate.”

“You ready for your big night tomorrow?” Elias double-dipped a chip.

Willis nodded. “Just one more party, and then my book—” He glanced at Jason. “I mean Scarlet’s book, will come out and—if all goes to plan—it’ll be a bestseller, and then tons of offers for another book and an even better website will be next.”

Elias clapped Willis on the back. “I’m proud of you, man.”

“Me too.” Jason pressed the lid onto the food, though it took a good bit of his strength to close the overstuffed container. “You two make a great advice-giving pair.”

Hello, Guilt? It’s me Scarlet. “Thanks.” I took the food and rose. “Sorry to eat and run.”

“Not a problem.” Jason gave me a hug, then turned me around toward Willis. “You two have fun.”

In the elevator, I scooted to the side, the ridiculously large container of food held firmly in my grip.

When the doors closed, Willis pressed close to me.

“I should go home.” My words came out sounding perfectly rational. Smart, even. But my eyes must have said something different, because Willis grabbed a fistful of my hair and crushed his mouth to mine.

I wrapped my arms around his waist and held onto the food container behind his back. (I was horny, not crazy. No way the chicken wings were going to hit the floor on my watch.) His tongue seemed to know what mine liked without so much as a “are those astronaut pants, because your ass is out of this world.” And I didn’t mind one bit.

He slanted over me, owning me with the hand tangled in my hair and the other sliding down to my ass. Had I been thinking about going home? Foolishness.

The elevator doors opened, but he didn’t stop kissing me. Only when they’d almost slid closed again did he move back and hold them for me. In a daze from his intoxicating lips, I walked past and into the lobby of the swank apartment building. A doorman—this one dressed far more formally than the one at Willis’s apartment—greeted us, then stepped outside to hail a cab at Willis’s instruction.

“I can’t wait to get you alone.” His low voice sent a tremor through me.

“What about your neck?”

“I’m more interested in your neck.” He leaned down and nipped at the side of my throat.

“What happened to the timid nerd I met a few weeks ago?”

He grinned down at me. “I think you know that when these come off”—he pulled his glasses away—“then anything is possible.” His hand squeezing my ass emphasized his words.

My mouth dropped open. A ringer. That’s what Willis had been from day one. In common con parlance, a ringer was someone who seemed inept or perhaps bumbling at a certain task. For example, perhaps I challenge you to a game of cards. I lose the first six hands, and you begin feeling confident that you will continue beating me, so you bet more money. When I finally turn the tables on you and win hand after hand—cleaning you out in the process—only then would you realize that you’d been conned by a ringer.

But Willis wasn’t a card cheat. His talents lay elsewhere. He’d conned me into thinking he was a mild nerd. Was he a nerd? Yes. Was he mild? The slap on my ass as we hurried into the waiting cab answered that question with a loud, stinging “no.”

* * *

My shirt fell to the floor the moment we made it into his apartment. His followed as we kissed and groped our way to his bedroom. After ten minutes of full-on making out in the back of the cab, Willis had made filthy promises to me all the way until we reached his front door. I wanted him to make good on them, especially the one that involved “eating your pussy until you pass out or beg me to stop.”

Once we’d stripped, he pushed me down on the bed, dropped to his knees, and yanked me toward him. When his hot mouth made contact, I arched and closed my thighs around his head from the intense, sudden sensation.

“Mmmmm.” He burrowed his tongue between my folds and slid his hands under my ass. With steady pressure, he forced me to open my legs, to give him free rein.

I let my legs fall open, and he fastened his lips to my clit, sucking and tonguing it slowly, languidly. Over and over he slid his mouth down to my entrance, then back to my clit. He drew me to the edge, but never pushed hard enough for me to fall into the delicious waters below.

“You’re torturing me.” I covered my face with my hands.

He laughed against me, the vibration drawing a moan from my lungs.

“You want to come?” His eyes held mine.

“Yes.”

“Beg me.”

The challenge in his eyes ignited my own competitive demon. I let my head fall back on the bed.

“Okay then.” He returned to his infernal work, so slow and painstaking, but so damn good. “I can do this all night.”

After a few more minutes of the perfect torture, I was writhing and grabbing the sheets. Whenever I tried to move my hips to get more friction, he pinned me to the bed and continued his leisurely destruction of my last shred of sanity.

I’m not proud of it, but I broke. I had to.

“Willis?”

“Hmm?” He dipped lower and pressed his tongue inside me.

“Please?”

“I’m going to need better than that.”

“You wicked, sadistic, son of a bitch!”

I could feel his smile against me, the crinkle next to his eyes a sign of his amusement.

“Just a little more”—he flicked the tip of his tongue across the sensitive nub, making my legs shake—“and I’ll let you come. Beg.”

“This is just a stupid power game.” I barely got the words out on a pant.

“Give me what I want, and I’ll give you what you need.” He gripped my hips and increased the pressure of his tongue, giving me a glimpse of what he could do if I would just play his game.

I didn’t just break. I shattered. “Willis, please let me come. Please.” I thrust my hips up. “Please.”

“That’s it.” He dove down, his tongue flying across my clit with a speed that turned my brain to mush.

“Willis!” I arched my back and came hard, the crest of the wave breaking over me as I rode it like a champion surfer. Each wave of pleasure was like another expanse of water unfurling before me like a red carpet. I followed the orgasm down until my body stilled while my heart beat furiously against my ribs.

When I went limp, Willis didn’t stop, only slowed to his unhurried pace once again. I tried to close my legs, to hide my over-sensitive flesh from him, but he placed his big palms flat on my thighs and kept me open.

“I…can’t…again.”

“You can.” He slipped two fingers inside me, igniting a new set of nerve endings.

I moaned and pushed myself down onto his fingers. “I need you.”

“Yeah?” He added another finger, stretching me.

“I want your cock inside me.”

“Not yet.” He sucked my clit, and my thighs twitched.

It felt so good, but I wanted him—all of him. “You said if I begged—”

He groaned. “If you beg for my cock…” He returned to licking me before finishing his sentence.

In and out, his fingers pulsed, driving me mad with need for him.

“Please, Willis. Fuck me. Please.”

“But I’m eating.” His eyes twinkled as he rested his cheek on my thigh and darted his tongue to my folds.

“Jesus. Please, please, please, Willis.”

He sighed and rose, his thick cock wobbling. My mouth watered, and my pussy clenched.

I spread wide for him and beckoned him with my hands. “Please.”

He settled on top of me and sucked a nipple into his mouth. I whined and rubbed my pussy along his shaft.

“Please.” I’d said the word more in ten minutes than I had in my whole life.

“You need it?” He met my eyes, his lips hovering above mine.

“Yes.”

He pressed inside me slowly, giving me a moment to adjust. Pulling back, he eased all the way home, our bodies knitted together as he stole my breath again with a searing kiss. Slow and steady, he thrusted again and again.

“I need to see you.” He rolled over onto his back, perching me on his cock. “Show me.”

I settled my knees next to his hips and rose, then dropped down onto him. His groan told me he liked it, so I did it again, then put my hands in my hair, pulling it off my sweaty shoulders.

“Fucking hell.” He reached up and palmed my tits as I rode.

My tempo increased as he pinched my nipples. His body was flexed tight beneath me, corded muscle straining across his chest.

He wrapped his palm around my neck and pulled me down to him. “I want you to ride me until you come.”

“Easy,” I breathed and began grinding my clit against him.

When he kissed me this time, it was rough, hard, and just right. I rode him, using his cock to get myself off. He grabbed my hips so hard that I knew I’d have fingertip bruises in the morning. I didn’t care.

Close to the edge again, my movements grew jerky. I bit his lip as I came, and he pistoned up inside me, wringing every last drop of pleasure out of me.

His jaw tense, he gritted out, “I’m going to come.”

I moved off his cock at the last second. Thick spurts of come landed on his stomach as I stroked him, and his face twisted and then relaxed in the purest form of bliss. God, he was a beautiful man. More than that, a beautiful soul.

The thought of breaking him sobered me far too quickly, and I rose. “I’ll get you some tissues.”

“Thanks.” He leaned over and started opening his nightstand. “I may have some in here.”

I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror for a long moment, questioning who I was and what the hell I was doing.

Then I noticed the open box of “all-natural” tampons on the back of the toilet. And next to the box sat an action figure of some military alien guy with two tampons glued to his back. I picked it up and stared at it.

“What the hell?”

Willis, one hand full of tissues, appeared behind me. “Oh.” He tossed the tissues into the wastebasket and took the action figure from me. “This, um.” He laughed and toyed with the hanging strings. “This guy is Commander Reptilian’s second in command. First Lieutenant ScaleyThorn. I always thought he’d be cool if he had a jet pack kind of like Star Lord’s. And then I got these tampons, so it made sense for me to—”

“Glue feminine hygiene products to an alien?” I gave him the wide-eyed “what the fuck?” look.

He shrugged. “Yeah. I mean, they need to be painted, of course. I have model paint for that. The jet packs”—he tapped the cotton tip—“will be silver, and the strings will be orange. Fire coming out, you know?”

“How can the man who just gave me two amazing, mind-blowing orgasms be the same man who glues tampons to action figures?” Chagrin with a dash of disbelief flavored my tone.

He grabbed me from behind and kissed a line down my shoulder as I laughed.

His eyes sparkled as they met mine in the mirror. “Just lucky I guess.”

Everything that I’d worked to make hard and cold inside me softened under his touch and the warmth in his eyes. He was beautiful inside and out, and in this moment, I was his. What was more, I wanted to be his.

“Stay the night.” He took my hand and drew me back to his bed.

“I should go.”

“I know.” He dropped onto his bed and pulled me down with him, snuggling me against his chest. “You keep telling me that you should put distance between us, but I won’t let you.” He yanked the comforter over us and kept one arm wrapped around me. “Getting rid of me isn’t an option.”

I wanted to believe him, but it was foolish. Once he found out what sort of person I really was, he wouldn’t feel the same. I sighed.

“Hey.” He grabbed my chin and pulled my face to his. “What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“Not nothing.” He pulled me up his body until we were nose to nose. “Tell me.”

Honesty forced its way to my surface. “I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

I blinked away sudden tears. “That this can’t last.”

“Why can’t it?”

“Because we’re so different.” I buried my face in his neck.

“Opposites attract, right?” He surged his hips toward me, his cock already at half-mast.

I smiled, but couldn’t trust myself to respond.

“Listen.” He smoothed a hand down my back. “I’m the king of overthinking things. So let me handle that part. You just keep being you. That’s all I want.”

“But you don’t know me.”

“I’ve heard that from you before. But I’m pretty sure I know you, the real one beneath the bluster and sass. The one who loves her sister, the one who enjoys helping others with sometimes-good advice—”

I huffed a laugh against his throat. “I’m not as good as you make out.”

“You are a good person.”

I’m not.

“Don’t shake your head.”

“I didn’t.”

“You did.” He kissed my hair. “I promise you’re a good person. And since you’re my namesake—well, my dick’s namesake—you should give my opinion extra weight.”

I stopped fighting him and fell into the lovely fantasy where I was a good person, one who deserved Willis’s affection and maybe, one day, his love.

His arms held me tight as I drifted off to deep, pleasant sleep devoid of my usual demons.