Even from across the bar, she’s incredible.

The black skinny jeans hugging the curve of her ass, the kitten heels giving her a little extra height, the lacy black halter top that gives me an amazing view of the curve of her shoulders and arc to her collarbone—the ensemble works for her like you wouldn’t believe.

Her body is perfection, lithe with delicate curves, and her face knocks me out: big expressive blue eyes that track my every motion as I navigate the crowd, full lips that part slightly when she notices me watching her as closely as she’s watching me.

But what I see is nothing compared to what I feel standing a foot and a half away from her, leaning in close to be heard over the din of the bar.

An assured confidence radiates off of her, but there’s a hint of uncertainty there, too, that I find irresistible.

The only thing that saves me from turning into a quivering mess of nerves in front of her is the years and years of practice I’ve had in the public eye. I silently thank my asshole father for insisting that we get lots of experience in front of crowds, because my heart is racing a million miles an hour looking at her, but I don’t let my anxiety show on my face.

“Hey,” I say, looking down into her wide eyes. Standing this close, I can see that they’re a startling shade of blue, a rich blue that reminds me of deep water. “You’re Jessica0607?” Her username on the dating app was startlingly innocuous for the most gorgeous woman on the planet.

“Yeah,” she answers, an easy smile forming on her face. “It’s not the most creative name, but it works for the Internet.” She swallows and then bites at her lower lip before continuing, leaning toward me so that she can speak into my ear. “You’re AlecToday?”

It’s not until it comes out of her mouth that I realize what a stupid username it is, but what else can I do but play it cool? I laugh like it doesn’t matter, because in the face of this incredible beauty, almost nothing else does.

“That’s me. But you can call me Alec.”

“Jessica.”

Her eyes are locked on mine. There’s a slight hitch in her breath. Exhilaration zings through my entire body, from my spine to my fingertips, and I know instantly that there’s something different about her.

Whether that’s good or bad remains to be seen.

It’s time to get to know here a little more.

Maybe a lot more.

“Well, Jessica,” I say, and her lips quirk in a smile like she’s hearing me speak for the first time. “Can I start by buying you a drink?”

“Start?” she says, a sly grin lighting up her face. “You can start with that. But I hope our night ends with something a little more exciting.”

My breath catches in my throat, and my cock jumps to attention from the way the word “exciting” rolls off her tongue.

* * *

It only takes a single drink for both of us to settle in, but during that time, the sparks that flew between us when I was walking across the bar toward her have accelerated into an inferno. I’m happy to let it burn me alive.

It starts when she lingers next to my ear and says the word “exciting” like she’s devouring a hard candy made from possibility and lust. Her hot breath on my neck has my cock twitching blatantly inside the cage of my jeans.

Then, Jessica banishes any uncertainty she was feeling by taking control of the situation. That’s a new experience for me. I can’t say I hate it.

When she leans away, she looks back up into my eyes and seems to make a decision. “Let’s keep it to first names, okay?”

It’s not a question. “Agreed.” Perfect, I think. She’ll never know my true identity, and I can move on in the morning. A little voice in the back of my mind disagrees with this pact, but I shove it aside. Now that Jessica is so close to me—and even hotter than her profile picture suggested, which was pretty hot—I want her lips on mine.

I want her body on mine.

I want….

We’re crammed close together by the bar crowd, and I feel the electricity crackling between us as she sips the cocktail I bought her—something sweet I didn’t catch the name of—and answers each of my questions with enough information to leave me tantalized and wanting her even more.

“Is this your favorite bar?” I ask, taking the opportunity to slip my arm around her waist. She doesn’t resist my advance and instead smiles up at me.

“Now it is.”

“What was it before?”

“What’s it matter, Mystery Man?”

“I want to know all about you.”

“There are better ways to do that.”

“Like what?”

She turns in my arm and steps an inch closer.

“There are lots of ways to get to know a person. It doesn’t need to be in a bar.”

“No? Where’s your favorite place to get to know someone?” Her smile is the embodiment of sheer seduction, even though she’s making sure we’ll never truly get to know each other by limiting her answers to my questions.

“My bedroom,” she says, her voice low and husky.

“And what do you do there to get to know someone new?” Holy Jesus, do I ever want this woman, this vixen, this queen.

“Compare Netflix queues.”

We both burst out laughing. She is so stunning that when she stops laughing, I lean down, cup her face in my hands, and cover her mouth with mine, tasting the sweetness of her drink on her lips and her raging desire on her tongue.

Our kiss is electric. She moans into my mouth, pressing her body against mine, and I taste her one more time before breaking away. Her hand grips my wrist tightly, as if I might disappear unless she holds me in place, as I fumble for my wallet, pull out a pile of bills, and toss them onto the bar. Then I’m leading her out of the bar by the hand as fast as we can go.

* * *

It’s five minutes to my apartment, and I kiss her so hard and furiously in the cab that by the time we’re in the elevator on the way up to my floor, we’re both panting. Her cheeks are flushed from the drink and the kissing, and I need to be balls deep in her an hour ago.

I can’t get the key to work in the door and she rocks on her heels, her arms wrapped around me from behind. Finally the door swings open and I turn, gathering her into me, sweeping us both inside and slamming the door shut behind us with my foot.

Then we’re tearing at each other’s clothes, leaving a trail of shirts and jeans and shoes all the way to my bedroom. When we reach my bed and the back of her knees meets the mattress, I guide her down so she’s laying on her back on my plush comforter with my full weight on top of her. I drag my tongue across her collarbone, pausing to pay homage to her breasts, and then down toward the flat expanse of her stomach. My tongue dives into her pink, dripping slit, and I devour her as she writhes wildly against the white comforter, urgent gasps escaping from her throat as she clutches at the bedclothes, her frame trembling in violent spasms as she comes in my mouth.

While she’s still quivering, shaking, and crying out incoherently, I push myself up and straddle over her middle, lining myself up between her legs. I’m so possessed by raw lust that I can’t even think straight, so it’s a miracle that I remember to grab and roll on a condom from the bedside table before I’m thrusting into her, burying myself to the hilt in one stroke, and she’s clenching around me, her tight walls massaging my cock. She feels good.

I drive the pace, faster, harder, and she takes it all, meeting me every time with a rise of her hips, drawing me in, drawing me deep, until at last I explode inside of her, ramming my release into her core.

The strength of my orgasm is so powerful it makes my head spin. For several minutes afterward I lay beside her, my face flush against her neck, breathing in lungfuls of her light, clean scent.

The peaceful moment ends when she rocks her hips against me, inviting me to go another round.

I rise to the occasion. With enthusiasm.