Prologue

Robyn bit down on her thumbnail as the sexy man came nearer. They’d been making eyes at each other from across the bar for a half hour. He was pure muscle and mischief, with dark hair and darker eyes. He nursed a beer; she’d downed three cosmopolitans.

 

Every once in a while, a bad day at work would send her to the bar. Working with abandoned and abused kids had that effect on her. Sometimes the sadness seeped in more than the success. But usually after a consolation night at the bar, she went home drunk and alone, still sad but just a little numb.

 

Tonight promised something out of the norm. Maybe a chance not to go home so sad, at least.

 

He sidled up next to her. Their ribs pressed against the wooden bar top. He smelled like cedar and smoke.

 

“You look lonely over here.” He sent her a look that made her panties damp as he wet his bottom lip. It wasn’t every day a broad-shouldered hunk sauntered her way. Most days, she felt frumpy and boring. Social worker. Thirty-something. Jaded by the system. She had stopped looking for hookups long ago, more because she was embarrassed by what she had to offer. Usually, she just wanted to collapse on the couch in an oversized sweater.

 

“Maybe I am. Maybe I’m not.” She spun her cocktail glass around in a slow circle. “Hopefully you aren’t the type of guy who makes me wish I was alone.”

 

The sexy stranger blinked, his eyes widening a little. “Well, that sounds like a challenge to me.”

 

She bit back a grin. Alcohol sizzled inside her, but it was nothing compared to the way this man’s attention made her feel. She was just buzzed enough to say fuck it, and not let her insecurities get in the way.

 

“If you’re willing to compete,” she said, “then the challenge is yours.”

 

He raised his glass; they clinked their drinks together. And then they were spiraling inward, conversation leading to innuendos, laughter leading to smirks. Robyn didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the guy. And with so much enjoyment, it didn’t matter. She needed this.

 

They barreled through two more drinks together. When the time came to order a third, Robyn touched his wrist. Her skin sparked where they touched.

 

“I shouldn’t have any more.” She hoped she wasn’t slurring. “Why don’t we go somewhere else?”

 

His chocolate eyes, tinged with amber, told her his answer before he even said it. “I could be convinced. What did you have in mind?”

 

She slid her hand over his knee. His gaze fell to her fingers, pale against denim. The corners of his lips turned up. “Let me get the tab, and I’ll meet you outside.”

 

Robyn used the bathroom, the world throbbing lightly, and grinned the whole way out the bar. She watched Mystery Man in Leather lean over the bar, pay for the drinks, smiling over his shoulder at her like they’d known each other for years.

 

Outside, the spring Ohio air was a chilly caress. Daffodils had begun to open earlier that week.

 

The door to the bar swung open, music and conversation reaching her before the door clanged shut. She tilted her head back to look at her sexy bar companion, somehow different in the muted tones of night.

 

“What’s your name?”

 

A slow smile overtook his face. He reached out to cup her face, dragging a thumb over her jawline. “Avon. You?”

 

“Robyn.”

 

And then she fell into him, like he was a pool of water in the middle of a desert. Parched and seeking, desperate to feel the relief of a pressure she hadn’t even realized was building. He cupped her face with both hands, his lip grazing hers, the smell of cedar and smoke filling her. His tongue pressed into her mouth. The noises escaping her were animalistic and hungry. They stumbled backward, kisses bleeding into more kisses, until the heat between her legs was too intense to ignore.

 

She hooked him by the belt loops, their pelvises crashing together. “Let’s go to my car.”

 

He swept her up into his arms, her giggles mixed with directions until they reached her dingy white sedan. She struggled to open the back door while locked in his arms, but finally, the door opened. Avon nearly tossed her inside, and soon it was a flurry of quick hands and grunts, tearing at clothes and hot breath.

 

Before she knew it, she was naked from the waist down. Avon pressed between her legs, the heat of his cock sinking into her.

 

This wasn’t how it normally went. She didn’t usually do things like this. But as Avon sunk into her, she clung to the sturdy trunk of his neck, all thoughts dissolving into a loud hum of ecstasy. The car moved every time he drilled into her. The windows fogged up embarrassingly fast.

 

They peaked together, her name on his tongue so sexy it almost made her come twice.

 

She slid her pants on slowly, delicately, around the bulky frame of his body. “Wanna go back to my place?”

 

He sent her a grin, but it wavered. “You shouldn’t drive.”

 

“Let’s take your car.”

 

“I brought my bike.” His words hung heavy in the air, feeling like a quiet no. Her heart sunk and the silence hung thick.

 

“If you don’t want—”

 

“Give me your address.” He stuck out his forearm. “Write it down, so I don’t forget.”

 

She bit her bottom lip, rummaging through the center console for a pen. She scrawled the address on his forearm, her entire body still tingling. Avon leaned in, planted a warm kiss on her lips.

 

“You better take a cab home. Don’t drive.” He finished buckling his belt. “I gotta go check on something, and I’ll be over in a half hour.”

 

She nodded, watching as he stepped out of the car. She mourned the loss of his warmth, but reminded herself she’d be able to feel it again, once he came to her house.

 

He kissed her one last time before he left, boots scuffing on asphalt. The motorcycle roared as he sped away. Robyn called for a rideshare with her app, waiting on pins and needles for the ride back to her place.

 

All she could feel and imagine was Avon’s rough kisses on her lips. The way he’d drilled into her, sensual and relentless. Their night wasn’t over. She wanted it to never be over.

 

Back at her apartment, she cleaned up as quickly as she could. Hiding dirty clothes, gathering all the used dishes in the sink, straightening pillows on the couch. It was small, but it was hers. Maybe Avon would like it. Maybe he’d become a regular fixture.

 

She laughed to herself as she flitted around the apartment, skin prickling as she waited for his arrival. Here she was, googly-eyed over a man she’d just fucked in the back seat of her car. A stranger.

 

But this stranger had been something special. That was for sure.

 

A half hour went by. Forty-five minutes. Frowning, she sunk onto the couch, watching the digital clock on her cable box tell a damning reality.

 

The last time she looked at the clock, over an hour had gone by.

 

And then she fell asleep.