Come with me.” Sincerity glows in Heat Flare’s Caribbean blue eyes as he extends his hand toward Maxie. “Just for tonight.”

She hesitates, torn between her desire to go with him, to experience everything he promised, and the responsibilities that keep her tied to the ground.

“I don’t know,” she wavers. Her entire life, she’d always done the right thing. She’d gone to school, gotten a good job, and struck up a relationship of sorts with the local superhero whom everyone loved. “It doesn’t seem like a good idea.”

“Sometimes you can’t tell what is and isn’t a good idea until you’ve made the leap,” Heat Flare says, his deep voice sounding more seductive than ever before. “Now, come with me.”

Maxie chews her lip. Now that she is thinking about it, what has being a good girl, a responsible girl, gotten her? She has a job that, if she was honest, makes her miserable. Somehow, she managed to attract the attention of a psychobitch supervillain who wanted to freeze the world, and she broke up with Dillion weeks ago, something that seemed to upset her more than it did him.

“Okay,” she said.

Heat Flare lifts a brow. “Okay, what?”

“Okay,” Maxie repeats. “I want to go with you.”

My heart’s pounding so hard, I’m surprised the other couples on the dance floor can’t hear it. Blood roars in my ears and I feel just a little lightheaded as I stare up at Ryan.

At least I don’t have to wonder whether or not that kiss was real, or if it was just for the sake of our fake relationship. The erection pressing into my body is proof that the kiss turned Ryan on as much as it did me.

He releases his grip on my hair and lowers his hand. I tremble as he uses his thumb to outline my lower, kiss-swollen lip.

His eyes grow darker, the beautiful blue nearly disappearing, swallowed up by the black pupils. The look in his eyes and the way he’s standing reminds me of a large cat, smooth and predatory as it stalks toward its prey, which in this case is me.

My pulse beats a frantic tattoo against the side of my jaw while my nails bite into the tender flesh on my palms. A tiny droplet of sweat trickles down my spine as I watch his every move.

“Are you sure you want to leave?” His voice triggers a sexual rush that has me pressing my thighs together.

Since arriving here, I’ve tongued his thumb, participated in a public kiss that was so hot I’m surprised I didn’t spontaneously combust, and told him I wanted to leave with him. Do I have to hire a sky writer to get my point across?

I reach up and slip a hand around the back of his skull and tug him down close to me. “Yes,” I whisper in his ear, pairing my word with a light nip to his earlobe that makes him jerk and swear under his breath.

I don’t know if it’s my confirmation or the kiss, but Ryan doesn’t ask me again. He grabs my hand and takes long, purposeful strides off the dance floor and to the door that leads to the lobby entrance.

Giggling, I follow behind him.

We almost manage to make a clean break of it, but with less than six feet between us and the door, Suzie’s strident voice calls out. “What are the two of you up to? I hope you’re not trying to sneak out of here early... The party’s barely even begun.”

She says the words lightly, like she’s just joking with friends, but her eyes are angry. She stomps toward us, Eli following in her wake.

Ryan pulls me up against his hard, hot body and turns to face her.

“Lucy isn’t feeling well,” he tells Suzie without so much as a flicker of hesitation.

“Really?” Suzie’s brows climb towards her bottle blond hairline. “She looked just fine when she was dancing with Christian and you.” She directs the comment at Ryan. I might as well be a speck of dust for all the attention she gives me.

“She got a headache,” Ryan smoothly says. “It came on suddenly. Probably a brain freeze brought on by some ice cream I gave her, so she’s going to lie down for a little while. If she starts feeling better she can come back and help you celebrate your nuptials.”

For the first time since she’s approached, Suzie’s eyes flash to me. “You know, Lucy. You’re being really selfish. Here it is, the most important day of my life, and instead of being happy for me, the only thing you can do is flaunt your movie star boyfriend. It’s disgusting.”

Everyone, including Eli, stares at her, startled not so much by her outburst, but by her truly vile tone.

“Honey, maybe you need a little air.” Eli grasps her elbow and tries to tug her away from me and Ryan.

I start edging toward the door, desperate to get away from Suzie and an entire room of wedding guests who have turned to stare at me.

Ryan takes two big steps forward so he’s standing nose to nose with Suzie.

“How dare you?” He overenunciates each word. “People are supposed to change after high school, normally for the better, but not you. You were a self-centered cow while we were in school. Now you’re a full-on bitch.”

Suzie gasps and straightens. She opens her mouth and takes a deep breath, but Ryan keeps talking before she utters a single word.

“Everywhere I turn, people are telling me what a great job Lucy has done planning this wedding. I got a front row seat to watching you make unreasonable demands on her time, and then abuse her when things aren’t going exactly the way you want them to. I know that she’s paid for some of the things you’ve wanted, because you couldn’t be bothered. And how did you reward her? By inviting her to the wedding she worked months to plan? No – she and I had to crash it. And now you’re screaming at her when really you should be down on your knees in front of her, thanking her for all her hard work.”

Suzie’s mouth opens and closes several times, but no words come out. She bears a striking resemblance to a recently caught trout gasping on the bottom of a canoe.

Ryan turns his attention to Eli. “Congrats, man, on your marriage and good luck.” His gaze flicks to Suzie and then back to Eli. “I think you’re going to need it.”

He reaches down and picks up my hand, threading his fingers through mine before turning on his heel and leading me out of the ballroom and into the hotel lobby. Tension rolls off him in waves as we stroll to the elevator bank at the far side of the cavernous room.

Ryan jabs at the call button on the wall beside the elevator doors impatiently and mutters something under his breath before turning to me.

I’ve never seen the expression currently grazing his face before. His face is set in grim, almost determined lines. His eyes seem bluer than ever before and the unbanked fiery passion burning in them has me stepping back, suddenly unsure about my decision to follow him.

Maybe, just maybe, I’m about to bite off more than I can chew. He might be more, have more expectations, than I’m ready for.

The thought freezes me in place. Until meeting Ryan, the idea of engaging in a sexual relationship with anyone was so far out of the realm of possibility, I hadn’t really considered what I should do, what I should say in this particular situation.

I hadn’t thought about how to handle the situation, to plan what I should do, what I should say.

Should I tell him the truth, that I’m not even close to as experienced as he thinks I am? That I’ve never, ever done something like this before?

It’s not like he’ll figure it out on his own. I’m not some Regency era Miss who has never felt a man’s hands or explored my own sexuality. My liberal use of my rabbit vibrator over the past few years, including last night, means that there’s no physical evidence indicating just how innocent I am.

But, still, is this something a partner should know beforehand? But what if he’s so turned off by the news that he leaves me here? The elevator doors glide open. Ryan places a hand on the small of my back, guiding me inside the small space.

Nerves coil in my belly, the tension chasing away some of the lust that has fueled me since Ryan kissed me on the dance floor.

I press a hand to my forehead and wish I hadn’t sucked down that last spiked root beer. The bourbon makes forming a logical thought pattern difficult.

“Hey.” Sensing my hesitation, Ryan shifts away from the control panel and moves in close to me. His arms sweep around me in a hug that somehow manages to be both comforting and hot. He presses his lips to my hair. “You don’t have to do this. You can tell me no. We can go back to the reception.”

He thinks the confusion that must be plastered all over my face is because I don’t know whether or not I should go up to his room, if I should take a step that would take our ‘fling’ and turn it into … something different.

I have no doubts about that. Right here, right now, I want him more badly than I’ve ever wanted anything else. I’m just not completely sure how to handle this particular step.

Desperate to make him understand that I have no doubts about leaving the reception with him, I rest my hand against Ryan's chest. His body heat burns through his thin dress shirt, practically scorching my palm, which curves around the wall of solid muscle. My fingers spread, sliding over the sculpted expanse, exploring it as my thoughts jump track.

Way too much time has passed since I last touched a man's body. I’ve forgotten how good it can feel. Now that I’m remembering, my insecurities, my self-doubts melt away until all I can think about his Ryan and where this moment is leading.

My hands glide up and down the wide expanse, loving the feel of the hard muscles beneath the material.

Growling low in his throat, Ryan’s hands land on my hips. He moves in close to me, using his body to crowd me back against the wall. The safety rail presses into my spine but I don’t care as his mouth finds mine.

The tip of his tongue outlines the seam formed by my lips and I sigh, allowing him to deepen the kiss. My fingers spear into his hair and I thrust my pelvis against him, grinding against his erection while our tongues spar, duel, and explore.

His fingers dig into my waist, clutching so tightly at my pretty dress, I’m surprised it doesn’t tear. Whimpering, I squirm against him, desperate to relieve the pressure building inside of me before I explode.

Moaning, I tighten my grip on his hair, deepening the kiss as I lose myself in sensations. I’ve never felt this way before. Never imagined it was even possible to feel like this.

Ryan loosens his grip. For a brief, horrifying second, I’m afraid he’s going to pull away. I moan a protest against his mouth. Instead of releasing me, his hands start a slow, southern slide, working their way over the curve of my ass and sinking lower, brushing over the back of my thighs.

Something sways against my knees. It’s my skirt, slowly creeping upward as Ryan bunches the material in his large hands until he holds the hem. He slides his hands beneath the full skirt, running them up along my thighs.

My knees turn to liquid as his hands massage my ass cheeks through my silk panties.

Gasping for breath, I turn my attention to his neck, nibbling and kissing at the tightly corded tendon that runs from his shoulder to his nape.

The jolt of the elevator coming to halt barely registers, but the outraged gasp as the doors slide open does.

I open my eyes and look over Ryan’s broad shoulder, wincing against the bright light streaming in from the hallway. An elderly woman in a neon green track suit leans against a walker. An even older man wearing a battered WWII veteran ball cap and holding a small bag stands beside her.

Ryan turns his head to peer over his shoulder. Swearing incoherently beneath his breath, he slips his hands out from beneath my skirt, grabs my waist, and quickly reverses our positions so that I’m between him and the older couple.

His erection presses against my bottom, nestling in the exact same spot his right hand had been a second before.

Eyeing us, the elderly couple shuffle into the elevator with us. The man studies the control panel, searching for the floor they want as the woman takes up a position on the opposite side and studies me.

I bite my lip in a desperate attempt to contain my nervous laughter as I wait for the inevitable lecture about how young people these days have no morals, or a comment about the fact that neither of us is wearing a wedding band, or a reminder that there are children staying in this hotel who may have been waiting to get in the elevator, children we would have corrupted with our bad behavior.

The elderly woman’s fingernails rap against her walker’s grip as she continues to study us, taking in the fact that Ryan has started rotating his hips, gently grinding against me, even as he uses me as a shield to hide his arousal from the couple.

My fingernails bite into my palms as I fight the urge to lean back and press myself more firmly against Ryan’s movements. I swallow and say a silent to prayer to whatever deity happens to be listening, begging them to let this elevator ride end soon, because if it doesn’t, I’m liable to turn around and do things with Ryan that will give this couple a joint heart attack and most likely get both Ryan and me arrested.

Finally, the elevator stops. Ryan glances at the number above the door and nudges me forward. “This is our stop,” his dark velvet voice whispers in my ear.

He keeps me planted firmly in front of him as we step into the hallway. The elderly woman’s eyes follow us.

“You know, Henry,” I hear her say as the doors slide shut behind us. “It’s been awhile since we’ve dabbled in elevator hanky-panky. What do you say we teach these youngsters how it’s supposed to be done?”