Stifling. Tall ceiling, ample room and yet, I can’t breathe. Yanking at the tux’s collar, I try to rid my mind of the memories. They cut me to the core as if it all happened yesterday, suffocating me. Painful images do that.

I so don’t want to be here!

Every year it’s the same hell. I should stop this. Dad doesn’t give a fuck about me. All he wants is a perfect picture with a caption like, ‘Loving husband carries on Iris Santucci’s legacy’ or some shit like that. Anything to garner more votes. Well, he’ll have to do without the happy family snapshot. I’ve busted my ass off cutting all ties connecting me to the Santucci’s. I won’t budge, no matter how low he stoops.

That goes for the rest of the family, for that matter. When Uncle Stephan’s gaze holds mine across the room and he sashays through the crowd, I glance around for the nearest exit. A rotund guest blocks Stephan’s way. My cue to escape to the deck.

A stunning sunset greets me. Few things compare to this beauty. Its calming effect eases my tense shoulders. Approaching the glass railing, I watch the purples and oranges of a cloudless Los Angeles summer sky, millions of lights twinkling in the distance. Breathtaking. Mom handpicked this hilltop for the headquarters of her foundation because of this view. West Hollywood beneath the wraparound deck and Santa Monica in the distance.

Disturbing images of her on the hospital bed flood my mind. It doesn’t feel like fifteen years. Fifteen minutes, tops. Resting my forearms on the railing, I hang my head and close my eyes. Breathe. Just breathe. I’ll stick around for another half hour, then I’m out of here. Usually, I succeed in pretending that losing my mom at fourteen didn’t affect me. At her foundation’s annual fundraiser, I barely make it through the night.

“Shit!”

The hissing whisper is followed by the sound of shattered glass far below. It’s too dark to make out who’s standing at the left end of the deck. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” a throaty, female voice replies, not quite convincingly.

“Hiding, huh?”

I stop a couple of feet away and she turns around. I’m hit with the most stunning pair of brown eyes I’ve ever seen. Large, bright and set on a face that’s close to perfection. Heart-shaped, classic features with high cheeks, luscious lips and a cute turned-up nose. Slim, slightly muscular body that her black lacy dress reveals tantalizing bits of, just enough to entice. Physical beauty by itself doesn’t appeal to me. I’m more attracted to intelligence and character, which accounts for my dry spell of late. Focusing on my career I’ve neglected my love life. I can’t remember the last time I had sex. Dude, don’t go there.

She seems uncomfortable with my ogling her, so I drop my gaze, plagued by the illicit images storming my mind. I offer an apologetic smile. “So rude of me to stare. Sorry. Nick O’Halloran.”

I use my mom’s maiden name, the way I introduce myself since I moved to Philly.

“Angie Bianchi.”

God help me, she’s got a sexy dimple on her right cheek when she smiles. “Who are you hiding from?”

“I didn’t say I was.”

“Didn’t say you weren’t,” leaning against the railing, I return her grin with a mischievous one. I may have been out of commission for a while, but I recognize flirting. And little Miss Perfection here is flirting with me.

“Touché.”

Yep. Flirting. I’m game. “Fair enough. How about a guessing game?”

“Game on. What’s the prize?”

“We get to know each other better.”

“Assuming I want to know you better, right?”

Her smile falters and I think I know why. Angie’s hiding something just like I am. Not to worry. Although our attraction is sizzling hot, I’m not looking for commitment.

“Guilty as charged,” I lean closer, invading her personal space and whisper as if conspiring. “I promise we’ll talk about topics you’re comfortable with.”

She exhales loudly, feigning boredom. “Fine, I guess. If you insist.”

“I insist.”

“I’ll go first,” her breathy whisper grips me by the balls. “You looked so sad before I dropped my glass,” she hesitates when I raise an eyebrow. “What? I was watching you, okay?”

“Not complaining, sweetie.”

“Wipe the smug smile off. You looked familiar. I was trying to place you.”

“Yeah, let’s go with that.”

“It’s the truth!”

“I live in Philly and I’m guessing you’re local.” when she nods I complete. “Highly unlikely we’ve met before.”

“Good point. Don’t change the subject, though. Why were you sad?”

“The Iris Santucci Foundation fosters stem cell research aiming to cure Lou Gehrig’s disease. I’ve heard them say they’re optimistic to make a significant breakthrough soon. My mom had Lou Gehrig’s. She passed away and I was thinking this research could’ve helped.”

“So sorry to hear that.”

“Enough of this downer stuff,” I smile into her eyes and she holds my stare with confidence. “Why did you drop the glass? Not drunk, are you?”

“No! I mean. I drank, but I’m fine. I got clumsy.” Her smile is radiant as she steps closer.

I reach out and twist the tip of her long hair around my finger. She runs the tip of her tongue over her bottom lip and my blood boils. “That’s a relief. I don’t take advantage of drunk women.”

Tipping her face up, Angie rests a hand on my chest, another on my nape. She spears her fingers through my hair, bringing my head down until our lips almost touch. Sweet torture.

I frame her face, thumbing her lower lip. As she inhales, my cock twitches in response. When she parts her teeth, I watch in awe as her tongue circles my digit before she sucks it into her mouth. My turn to sigh. As Angie’s tongue swirls around my thumb, I graze the side of her neck until I find a sensitive spot behind her ear. She moans when I nibble at it and her hand travels from my chest to my butt, squeezing me.

“God, that’s hot,” I whisper into her ear.

I grab her soft butt cheeks and crush her curves against my body as I cover her lips. She invades my mouth and I suck at her tongue, pinning her against the glass railing. I moan inside her lips when my cock stabs her lower body. Maybe I’m going too fast. That’s when her arms snake around my waist, pulling me closer. Guess she’s fine with this speed.

Splaying my hands on her hips, I anchor her against me as I deepen our kiss. My palm caresses the underside of her breast while my fingers tweak the hard nipple over the thin material of her dress. She moans and thrusts her breasts up.

When we come up for air, her tongue finds my ear. “This corner is tucked away and all, but I wouldn’t want to be caught with my hand in your pants.”

The idea of her giving me a hand job makes me harder, but I’d rather sink my dick in her sassy mouth. I trace her lips with my index finger and they curl up as if she’s reading my mind. “Who said anything about hands? I’m done with this party anyway. We should take this conversation to my place down the street. Actually, John Cartwright’s place. He lets me stay there while he’s in Wales shooting an episode of Doctor Who.”

My childhood friend is one of the few ties I’ve kept to my former life, because he saved me from myself after mom passed.

Angie laces her fingers through mine and pulls me across the deck. As we cross the threshold, I pull her back against my chest and steer us through the sea of people.

“Nick!” I ignore Stephan’s bawl and don’t look around me in case my old man happens to be sneering my way. He can go up in flames for all I care.

Reaching the street, I let out a long breath I didn’t notice I was holding. The fresh night air cools my blood down and I tuck Angie beside me, running my hand over her arm. “Did you leave your coat inside?”

“I didn’t bring one.”

“Oh, the chilly breeze isn’t causing the goosebumps then?”

“That too, silly.”

I don’t remember the last time I felt so at ease with someone I barely knew. Or when a woman made me feel like laughing so hard. Our chuckles echo in the deserted street as I punch in the security code. John’s little rascal jumps on our legs as we step inside the house.

“Ah, she’s precious,” Angie crouches to greet the Norfolk terrier.

“Penny’s the worst watchdog ever.”

“C’mon, Nick. Look at her face,” Angie smooches the top of the dog’s head. “She’s too cute to watch anything.”

“I want to say sexist, but not sure the term applies to dogs.”

Angie snaps her head up, murder written all over her gorgeous face, but breaks into a smile when she realizes I’m teasing her. Slowly unfolding herself, Angie locks her eyes with mine, lips curled up, a naughty expression on her face. I like Naughty Angie.

“You’re calling me a misogynist?”

Her low, husky voice entices me as she gets in my face. “Never, gorgeous,” I throw my hands up and wait for her next move. Angie raises a perfect eyebrow and steps closer. I cradle her face, thumbing her cheeks. Leaning in, I whisper, “I like to think I know how to treat a woman.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

I’m a sucker for a challenge. Her hands squeeze mine as I run my tongue over her full lips. I nibble the corner, then sink my teeth into her lower lip without breaking the soft skin. Her wild heartbeats under my fingertips on the side of her neck encourage me. I swallow her moans as my tongue invades her mouth. Sweet and erotic, our mouths fuse together. Tongues swirl around each other.

Erratic breathing and groans fill the air as we get rid of each other’s clothes, leaving a trail behind us. We reach the guest room and I kick the door closed, swirling around to pin Angie against it. I hold her wrists over her head with one hand and let my gaze move over this gorgeous woman in blatant admiration. As I had guessed, she wasn’t wearing a bra under the dress. Now, all she’s got left on is a skimpy pair of black lacy panties and silk stockings held in place by matching garters. I run a finger from the top of her nose down her lips, chin and neck. My nail grazes the soft skin between her perfect breasts, down her flat belly and stops at the waistline of her panties, my eyes following the movement. I can’t see her face yet, but her breathing tells me she’s enjoying this as much as I am. I pinch an elastic strap between my fingers and snap it. Light enough for a reaction without causing pain. Her intake of air is followed by a low sigh, almost a moan.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No.”

“Didn’t think so. Do you enjoy pain?”

“No,” more convincing this time.

“Good. Me neither.”

I move a finger along the stocking’s elastic band to her inner thigh. One thumb caresses the soft skin between her stocking and panties, while the other thumb caresses her wrist. I drag my gaze up her body until it reaches her face. Her rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes make my temperature skyrocket. I bring my lips to hers, not quite kissing, just a feathery touch as my thumbnail pokes at the wet patch of silk between her legs. I palm her sex, then lightly scrape my nails against her core, over her panties. A new wave of juices warm my fingertips. Angie closes her eyes, leaning her head against the door, “Oh, God, that feels so good.”

I nibble at her shoulder, up her neck, as I push the panties to the side, invading her hot core with two fingers. Muffling her whimper, I take her mouth, sucking at her lips. I memorize all the spots that make her squirm or sigh when my fingers touch her trembling flesh. When I let go of Angie’s wrists, her fingers pull at my hair as I cup her breasts, sucking the nipples until they harden under my tongue. I grip them between my teeth, flicking at them and making her moan. I bring her to the verge of release then withdraw. Angie’s eyelids creep up and she knits her eyebrows.

“I want you, gorgeous, but I’m not an up-against-the-door kind of guy,” I nod towards the king-size bed. “We’ve got the whole night to ourselves.”

“I like the way you think.”

When Angie sits on the bed, I kneel between her thighs. A wicked glance up into her eyes and she gets my intention, so she props herself up on her forearms, smiling down at me. A sinful grin. Hooking my fingers on the fragile waistband of her panties, I drag them down her body and legs, inch by inch, while I caress her skin with my stare, goosebumps in the wake of my fingers. Panties on the floor, I lift her foot, rest it on my shoulder and drag my mouth up her leg and inner thigh. As I approach her sex, Angie’s breathing hitches and when I nibble at the soft skin beside her entrance, she’s downright panting. So am I.

“Relax,” I speak into her core, making her folds vibrate. It’s a beautiful sight, but I don’t want to waste another second. I letch at her sex, sucking at it like the starving man I’ve become, my groans mixing with hers as her thighs tremble under my fingers. My cock demands release, but my focus is on Angie’s pleasure. Lapping at her juices and suckling at her clit, I take her over the edge and she shouts as her inner walls clench and unclench around my mouth. Changing from sucking to kissing, I wait for her tremors to subside, then resume flicking her hard nib with the tip of my tongue.

“Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God!”

I like the way she sounds as I insert two fingers inside her drenched sex, kissing my way up to her mouth. Reaching out, I open the drawer in the night stand to get a condom. She rips it from my fingers and has me suited in two seconds flat. “I like the way you think.”

In the blink of an eye, Angie maneuvers herself to be on top, straddling me between her strong thighs. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

She pins my hands above my head as she impales herself on my cock, the angle making me fill her tight channel to the brim. She uses her knees for support and moves her perfect body up and down, riding me until we’re both out of breath and on the brink of an explosive orgasm.

Not enough for me, though. “Lean down. I need to kiss you.”

When she does, she releases my hands. I grab her face and sit up on the bed, collecting her body in a tight embrace. Her legs cross behind my back and I thrust my hips up as she moves down and we explode at the same time. Our mouths fuse as her inner muscles milk my cock of all I’ve got. I cover her eyes and cheeks with light kisses as our ragged breathing slows down.

“That was fun. How long until you’re good to go again?” My dick, still buried inside her warmth, twitches in reply before I have a chance to utter a word. “I like the way your cock thinks.”

“That makes two of us. I’ll get rid of the condom, first.”

I return from the bathroom to find Angie kneeling in the middle of the bed, wearing the most wicked smile, holding a red silk scarf. Twisting the ends around her wrists, she winks. “Wanna play?”

And play we do. All night long.

* * *

I wake up before 6 a.m. Angie’s not in bed. A nagging sensation tightens my chest as I look inside the bathroom before running naked around John’s humungous house, calling out her name and feeling stupid for it. Angie’s nowhere to be found.

“What the fuck?”

I should be glad, right? I’m going back to Philly in a couple of days, not looking for a relationship. I’ve just had the best night of sex ever, no strings attached. Why do I feel like shit? I’ve never had a one-night stand before, that’s why. I’m not the kind of guy who sleeps with a woman, then disappears on her. And that’s exactly what Angie just did - left without a word. It sucks.

If I wanted to find her, I could contact my father’s assistant and ask for Angie’s information. She had to be in the guest list to attend the fundraiser. Problem with this is that Angie doesn’t want me to find her. Blow to the ego aside, I’ll suck it up and move on. Go back to Penn and concentrate on that tenure track position. Yeah, sex was good – hell, it was mind blowing. Still, I should focus on what I can accomplish. Work my ass off to secure my career’s future. In doing so, I’ll take my mind off the way Angie moaned when I tweaked her nipples or how her legs tightened around my waist as I unloaded my cock deep inside her.

I will forget her.

Eventually.

* * *

The program chair turned a normally stressful first day of class into hell having me fill in for Dr. Richards. Coming face-to-face with Angie Bianchi as I walk into the room just made matters worse. What the fuck is she doing here?