When I wake up late on Saturday morning, my heart is pounding from a sex dream-nightmare I had.

In the dream, I’m in the future, ten dates from now with Damien. We’re finally about to go all the way again. Turns out, the upstairs attic of the apartment is a mysterious room—and he finally wants to show me what’s inside.

Impatient, we make out against the door. I feel his hard body against mine, and slide my hand over his length, begging him to tell me what is behind the door.

He stares at me with glittery, dark eyes, and finally relents, pulling out the key.

I’m filled with curiosity, wondering what’s behind Damien’s door. A secret sex dungeon? A trophy room?

I’m so turned on in the dream, I want nothing more then to be with him. And I know, I just know, that room is the place we’re meant to be together.

He opens the door, but there’s nothing inside. “I don’t understand,” I say.

My stomach churns—something isn’t right.

Just then, Nick appears in the room with a big, malevolent smile on his face.

“What? You thought you and Damien could actually *be* something?” he laughs evilly. “Honey, you don’t get to be something with a one night stand. Damien knows all your secrets. And you're not forgiven.”

I take a few deep breaths, so thankful it was only a dream, vivid as the experience was.

I check my clock, and it’s almost eleven.

Damien’s picking me up at two for our first date—and he refused to tell me where we would go. All he told me was “dress comfortably.”

I have no idea what to make of that. Are we going hiking? Just going for a walk or something? Is a “work out” date a thing?

I swallow, and my pulse quickens as I think about how hot it was having his body pressed up against mine on the stage. Not to mention in the private room. I wanted so badly to go all the way with him again, to melt to his touch and let him take me away to pleasure island—but now Amelia has me second guessing everything with this damn “Curse of the one night stand” theory.

I’m impressed at Damien’s ability to read me. Sure, my body wanted him so badly in the champagne room, but on some subconscious level I wasn’t ready to escalate again so quickly. I need time to process what all of this means.

As I’m getting ready, my phone buzzes, and my stomach feels queasy just like in my dream when I see who it is.

Nick: Hey what are you up to today?

Krista: Please stop texting me

Nick: If you didn’t want me to text you, you would block my number

Frustrated, I squeeze my phone.

Krista: I didn’t think I need to take it to the blocking level, but I just might

Nick: Just tell me what you’re up to. I want to hang out

I let out a frustrated breath, flashing back to the main problem of our relationship—Nick’s selfishness. It was always “I want to do this,” not, “This will make you happy.”

Not that I expect a man to make me happy twenty-four seven. But Nick’s nonchalant, last second attitude continuously rubbed me the wrong way. Perturbed, I do something I maybe shouldn’t do. But I do it anyway. I tell him what I’m up to.

Krista: I can’t do anything anyway. I have a date today

I see the three little dots come up, disappear, and then come up again for at least a minute. Finally his text comes through.

Nick: its with that plumber isn’t it?

Immediately, I regret telling him about my date.

Krista: Doesn’t matter. I just want to be one hundred percent honest with you

Nick: what do you think, I’m some kind of idiot? I might not be the smartest guy, but I saw the way you touched him. I know he wasn’t your plumber

Krista: Please leave me alone, Nick. I’m not having this conversation

Nick: Damien Davenport. He’s your landlord

Krista: Just stop

Nick: What, you don’t think I’m smart? You don’t think I can use Google?

Krista: I’m going to have to block you

Nick: I wouldn’t do that if I were you

My insides quiver, and I can feel my anxiety going through the roof. Fuck this.

I turn my phone off, toss it onto the counter, and get ready for my date with Damien.

I take care of some things around the house, and get dressed, settling on jeans, boots with a low heel that I’ll be able to move around in, and a grey scoop neck.

Right at two I hear a knock on my door.

“Hey Miss. It’s me, the plumber. I heard you’ve got a leak. Mind if I come in and take a look at it?” I giggle and shake my head. It’s Damien, but he’s changed his voice so it’s a little bit lower, but it’s still obviously him.

“Oh, sorry,” I say, smiling. “My landlord takes care of all of my needs.”

Damien clears his throat. “Oh does he now? *All* of your needs?”

I open up the door to a smiling Damien with giant aviator sunglasses, pressing his tattooed arm into the doorframe.

“Well, we’ve actually made an agreement not to have all of those needs taken care of for ten dates, while we get to know each other.”

He cocks his head and runs a hand through his hair. “Sounds like a suspicious guy. What kind of man would be able to wait ten dates?”

I shrug, and before I can react, Damien crosses over into my apartment, grabs hold of me and plants a big, firm kiss on my lips, biting my lower lip as he lets go.

I let out a big exhale, relief pouring out of me. There’s something about Damien’s aura that makes me feel safe, even more so when I’m wrapped up in his arms and lips.

“We should go,” he growls, a little suddenly, still holding my hand. “You ready?”

“Why the impatience all of the sudden?” I taunt. “You’re not going to check my leaky faucet?” I furrow my brow, then walk over to my sink, my black boots clomping on the ground.

I bend over into my sink, leaning down like I’m examining something really closely.

Damien walks slowly over to me, and I can hear his breath behind me.

I giggle as he grabs hold of my hips and spins me around. My heart pounds as I face him, my ass leaning back into the sink.

“Look,” he says with a cocky grin. “I want to get to know the you behind this pretty face. But if you’re wiggling that sexy ass in front of me, you’re not playing very nice.”

“What if I don’t want to play nice?” I ask.

He runs a hand through my hair and licks his lips. “Try it and see what happens.”

I grab his head and kiss him one more time on the lips. I’m about to lose my self-control, so I slip out from underneath him and head out the door.

“Yeah, we should go,” I say, my voice cracking.

“Let’s go.” He glances at my phone on the kitchen island before he shuts the door. “No phone?”

I shrug. “Why would I need it? You can keep me entertained can’t you?”

“Okay,” he says with a shrug, and I feel a little guilty he doesn’t know the real reason I don’t want my phone: I’m afraid Nick might text me and I want to feel free of him.

No phone = freedom.

I’m also a little creeped out by the fact that he knew Damien’s last name.

I didn’t even know Damien’s last name.

* * *

“Come on, tell me where we’re going,” I say.

“We’re almost there,” he says, turning the wheel of his truck to get us off the highway. A minute later, we pull up to a corner parking lot with a huge yellow and black sign.

“Midwestern Gun Range,” I say as he puts the engine into park. The building looks like a giant warehouse. “Well this should be interesting.”

“I know. You learn a lot about someone by how they handle a weapon. You ever been to a gun range before?”

I shake my head. “I grew up just west of Detriot, and my parents were totally against having weapons. We had a dog, though.”

He nods. “Where I grew up on the south side of Chicago, violence was unfortunately all too common.”

“So you had a gun growing up?”

“Nope,” he says as he opens up the back of his truck and grab a black box. “I didn’t get this bad boy until I was in the military. That’s when I started getting into guns.”

I nod, and he leads the way to the front door of the indoor gun range. “Into...guns?”

He shrugs. “You know. That and some other stuff.”

“What other kind of *stuff* did you get into?” I ask as he holds the door open for me.

In my mind’s eye I picture Damien out on the dance floor at Midnight Ride strutting his stuff in just his briefs.

His moves were just too damn good for him to be an amateur, and I need to find out what all that was about.

Inconveniently, the clerk inside interrupts us right as Damien turns to me to answer.

“Hey how are you guys finding everything?” he asks with a big beaming smile, uber friendly.

“Good, my man,” Damien says. “Just need some ammo.”

* * *

Damien buys several rounds, and we head into the indoor shooting facility. I hear a few people shooting.

We take a booth, and he sets the ammo down along with the black box.

“I’m excited to finally see what you’re working with,” I say.

“You got a pretty good idea on the first night,” he winks.

I furrow my brow. “I mean...your gun?”

He smacks himself in the head. “Oh, duh. I was thinking...never mind what I was thinking.”

I laugh as he opens the box. “You men and your dirty minds.”

He shrugs. “Your fault.”

“My fault?”

“Yeah,” he says as he pulls out a pistol. “You’re over here bending over sinks and making all these borderline dirty comments.”

My lips turn pouty, and I cock my head. “We’re barely started with the first of ten dates, and you’re already having a hard time not focusing on sex.”

He swallows. “Then let’s drop it. Let’s talk about guns instead.”

I nod. He takes my hand and puts the gun in my palm. “It’s heavy,” I say.

He winks.

“Don’t even think about turning that into a dirty joke,” I giggle.

He puts his hands up. “I wasn’t going to say anything!”

“Well you look like you had something on the tip of your tongue.”

Taking a deep breath. “I’m not even gonna say it. So here’s a quick lesson. This is a SigSauer P226, chambered in nine millimeter.

I hold the thing carefully.

“Is it on?”

“No. The safety is on, and it’s unloaded.”

“Oh.”

“Let’s do a dry run.”

I make a cringy face. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

He smirks. “Can you not think about sex for one second, Krista?”

“Alright, alright. Show me.”

He hands me my eyegear, and I put the large plastic glasses over my face.

“Always point the gun down or downrange, and treat it as if it were loaded. Don’t put your finger on the trigger until you’re ready to fire.

Stepping behind me, he puts his arms over mine and holds my hands, helping me steady the gun as I point it down range at the target.

My heart beats hard, and I’m not sure why I’m suddenly anxious. Is it the fact that I feel Damien’s hips pressing into me? Or that this is my first time handling a weapon?

“In movies,” he says, and I can feel the vibrations of his chest through my back, “They always do that dumb shit where they shoot a pistol with one hand. In reality, the blowback is much harder.”

“Okay.”

“Hold your arms straight out, aim at the target, and when you’re ready, flip the safety.”

He flips the safety on the side of the gun. “On, off. On, off. You ready?”

“I want to watch you do it by yourself first.”

He smiles. “Seriously? You walked right into that one.”

I throw my head back in laughter. “I swear I didn’t even realize it.”

“Yeah sure. You have a secretly dirty mind, don’t you?” he says as he takes the gun from me.

His phone buzzes, making a loud sound on the wood shelf where he placed it, right next to the wooden box.

I jump at the noise, and Damien shoots me a weird look.

“You okay?”

I swallow, because just the phone buzzing makes me think of Nick and how I left my phone at home so I wouldn’t worry about him.

“Fine.” I clear my throat, obviously flustered. I take a deep breath, and my mind flashes to something Nick and I did years ago.

Something I’d like to forget ever actually happened.

“Just show me,” I say, snapping myself out of my funk.

His dark brown eyes linger on me just a beat too long, and I know he can sense I’m off.

Still, he grabs the ammo and loads the pistol. I grab my eargear, so does he, and he fires away, one shot after another in quick, methodical succession.

I can’t lie, watching Damien’s muscled forearms as he focuses on the target and nails it every time is a huge turn on. I bite my lip and a pleasant, warm feeling washes over me. This is more than arousal. I have a deep appreciation for this man who signed up and spent years of his life as a Marine.

Or maybe it’s just that sexy smile with a backwards baseball cap.

I don’t even know anymore.

But I do know my panties are melting off as I stand there watching him.

After he’s done, he pulls his ear gear off, then brings the paper target toward us. All of his shots are in the bullseye except for one that’s in the outer ring.

“What happened there?” I ask, pointing.

He shrugs, grinning, and touches a hand to his chest. “Nothing.”

“Bullshit. You just missed one?”

“For one shot, I wasn’t there.”

“What do you mean you weren’t there?”

He takes a breath, and stares at me. “I wasn’t there mentally.” He reaches a hand down to my hips, grabs me, and pulls me into him, lowering his voice to a growl, and whispering into my ear. “I was back at your apartment at the beginning of this date with you bent over the sink. I was grabbing a tussle of your hair and kissing your neck, watching the goosebumbs form on your body. It was extremely distracting.”

“Oh,” I mouth. “I see.”

He nibbles at my ear, teasing me ever so slightly before he pulls back. “Your turn,” he says, handing me the gun.

He shows me out to load the ammo, so I put it in, one bullet at a time. I learn that nine millimeter is the diameter of the bullet.

As I’m about to fire, I steady my arms, holding them straight out. I switch the safety off, focus on the target and shoot.

It’s loud, but the blowback isn’t as much as I expect. Adrenaline surges through me as I fire bullet after bullet into the practice target. Finally, I pull the trigger and nothing comes out.

I turn slowly back toward him, aware of the big goofy grin on my face, my eyes wide.

“You like it, don’t you?” he says loudly.

I nod, silent as he cranks the target in. He takes it off the clothespin and gives an approving look.

“Really. This is your first time ever?” he asks.

“Yes. never touched a gun before in my life.”

“Wow. Impressive. Well you, my girl, are what they call a natural.”

“I didn’t get all bullseyes like you though.”

He pulls a dime out of his pocket and puts it over all of my shots.

“See that? That’s consistency. More important than bullseyes. This might sound weird, but you were shooting like you were inspired. What were you thinking about when you were shooting?”

My palms sweat, and I shrug. “I don’t know. Just the target,” I lie.

“Huh,” he says. “Well whatever it was. Keep it up.”

I put the gun down, and a powerful surge of emotion washes over me.

I squeeze my body in between Damien’s arms. Reciprocating, he runs a hand down my back, lands it on my ass, and pulls my whole body into him as he kisses me against the booth wall.

After a minute, we come up for air, both of our chests heaving.

“You look sexy with a gun, Sweetheart.”

“You do too. This is going to be hard, going ten dates with no sex.”

He smirks. “Yeah. It is going to be...tough.”