Veronica

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I didn’t care that the steak was too well done. Or that the fourth glass of wine would give me a headache. I didn’t even care that there wasn’t enough light in his house. I was floating.

Dinner was over and it was getting late. I made noises to go, but he stopped me.

“Hang on. Show me what you like,” he’d said before getting up and returning with a laptop.

“What I like?” You.

“Where do I get lights?”

“Oh. Um. I don’t know. Goodwill?”

“Here.” He typed faster than anyone I’d ever seen and brought up a page of super-fancy lighting fixtures and lamps.

“You want me to pick? I can’t—”

“How many does this room need?”

I swiveled in my chair. “Maybe a couple?”

“Okay. Select your top five.”

“These are like three grand, Zach. That’s too—”

“It’s fine.”

I paused, waiting for him to elaborate. When he didn’t, I shoved back a little twinge of disquiet and did as he asked. I was floating so high on this guy, who’d brought me to orgasm with one hand and then wouldn’t let me reciprocate. He was superhuman. He was perfect. And he wanted to spend money to make his house more hospitable? Who was I to complain?

But then my curiosity never did stay down for too long. “Tell me more about this Horde thing.”

Something shifted in the air.

“It’s just a nickname.”

“Those people the other day were awestruck by you.”

“I have no idea why.”

“Really?” He was stiff, maybe a little flushed, but nothing else that I could put my finger on.

“Huh. Weird.”

He did a funny little laugh. “Yeah, weird.”

We kissed again at his door, just to prove that none of this was a fluke. It hadn’t been the first time and it wasn’t tonight.

He pressed me to the wall and held me there while his hands swept over me, stroking me, learning me, memorizing me. Every nerve in my body was zinging with his touch.

“I’ve got to go,” I slurred.

“Yeah. Sorry.” He stepped back, ran a hand through his dark, unruly hair and nodded. “I’m addicted.”

That squished things up in my belly. This was trouble. Way beyond anything I’d experienced before.

I was at the edge of the porch when he stopped me. “You don’t have a car here, do you?”

“No.”

“How’re you getting home?”

I shrugged. “Bus.”

“Hell, no. I’m getting you a car.” He was already fiddling with his watch thingy.

“Oh. No, that’s okay. I don’t need—”

“It’s late. Car’ll be here in two minutes.”

“I can pay for it, then.” I didn’t like him getting all those lamps for me and then shelling out for my ride home. It wasn’t my style to let the guy pay for everything.

“Too late.”

I sighed. “Look, Zach. If we went on a date, I’d pay for half, okay? That’s the type of person I am. I don’t like to—”

“It’s not about me being a domineering asshole. This is about me giving a girl a ride home.”

A girl. Wow. That felt…

“A girl I’d very much like to see again. Trying to make a good impression.” He smiled, tilted his head and did that dimple thing that was driving me wild. “So she’ll come back.”

And there it went… All the excitement, right back to my belly, while my chest fluttered like crazy. This guy… I sucked in a shuddery breath and turned at the sound of a car pulling up the drive.

“Okay. Thank you, Zach Hubler.” For dinner, the ride, the help with my campaign. Not to mention the orgasm.

“Thank you, Veronica Cruz.”

I had to run back up to where he was standing in the doorway to plant a kiss on his lips because, good lord, they were kissable. His hand was right there, at the nape of my neck, holding me still while he sipped at me. I had to pull away or I’d never leave.

“Okay.” I stepped back. “Gotta go.”

“Yeah. Take care, Veronica.”

“You too. Zach.” I nodded, feeling like an idiot. “Okay. I’m going.”

“Night.”

“Night.”

As fast as I could, I ran down the steps, through the yard and to the waiting car.

We’d just turned out of his driveway when I got a text.

You home yet?

I’m in New Mexico.

That was fast.

You’re the one who’s fast, Hubler.

I regretted my words as soon as I sent them Those three dots came up, went away, came up again. Finally, a text came through.

Is that okay?

Okay? Was he kidding? I had an amazing time tonight, Zach.

Me, too.

I was staring at the phone when it rang, making me start and nearly drop it. Was it him?

The caller ID read: O’Neal Jones.

My heart sank at the sight of my friend’s name instead of his, but I picked up with a smile.

“Hey.”

“How am I the one calling you after three days without an answer?”

“Oh. Right.”

“Right? That’s it? What the what with the hot guy from the text?” As usual, O’Neal was clearly ready for details. I’d give them to her usually, but I was so raw from tonight, the excitement so new, the whole thing so fresh in my mind and my skin, I wasn’t ready to share it with anyone.

“Yeah.”

She was quiet for a second, which was very unlike her.

“Yeah? Are you being serious with me right now, V?”

“He’s good.”

“Zach Hubler. Who is he and how did you meet him?”

“I met him canvassing. And as far as who…” I swallowed, because there was something there I wasn’t sure about yet. “He’s a guy. Younger.”

“How young?”

“Early twenties.”

She fake-gasped. “Cradle robber.”

Oh gosh. I knew she was kidding, but maybe I shouldn’t get involved with someone a few years younger. “Is it really that bad?”

“Seriously, V. How many younger guys have I shagged?”

“Um. Too many to guess. But you are O’Neal Jones, Queen of stringless sex.”

“Ew. I know what you just meant by that, but it sounds kinda gross.” She let out a disgusted little laugh. “Anyway, I’m all for this situation. Tell me more.”

I cleared my throat. “He’s kind of a shut-in, I guess. He lives over on the edge of town in a big house in the woods. He made me dinner. We talked…”

“Uh huh. I’m looking him up right now.”

“No! No, I will not let you stalk him.”

The mad clicking in the background stopped abruptly.

“Why not?”

I didn’t know. Was it because he was too good to be true? Or maybe because I preferred to shove my head in the sand rather than let O’Neal burst my bubble. I wasn’t ready to ruin it. Whatever it was.

Softly, I appealed to the sweet side that O’Neal hid way down deep, behind the bluster and ballsiness she’d needed to get where she was in life. “Let me enjoy this, O’Neal, okay? Let me like him for him, without all the external bullshit. Just…let me get to know him, not whoever he is online.”

She harrumphed, but there was no animosity in it. By the time I hung up, the car had pulled up in front of my place. I walked up the three flights to my tiny place, then ripped off my clothes and threw them in a pile in the corner before falling into bed with a smile on my face.

My phone buzzed and I grabbed it.

I put a rush on those lamps. They’ll be here tomorrow.

Is that an invitation?

Yes.

I shut my eyes and worked hard to remember the feel of him against me, his fingers inside of me, his hot breath on my skin. That look on his face after I came, of pure male satisfaction. Just thinking about it got my body worked up. And then I remembered: I’d met him just three times. He was a stranger, practically. And he’d had his fingers in me.

I covered my face with one hand. I let a near-stranger fingerbang me on his back porch.

This all had the makings of a very bad idea—having an affair with an unknown in the midst of a campaign? Doing sexy stuff outside, where anyone could snap pictures? Trusting a man who clearly had something to hide?

Bad idea.

But none of that stopped me from wanting more.