Heat Flare’s blue eyes sparkle in the sunlight and he grins, showing off a pair of adorable dimples. “Just can’t get enough of me, can you?”

Maxie grinds her teeth together and does her best to not think about just how stunningly handsome he is, or how well his outfit shows off his truly amazing physique. She loves Dillion; he’s the only man she should be noticing right now.

So why did the slightest touch from Heat Flare make her nerve endings sizzle? And why couldn’t she stop thinking about that last kiss and wondering when he’d kiss her again?

“Ugh.” I transfer it from my mattress to my bedside table and flop down.

I decided to work on my book in an attempt to deal with some of the restlessness that made it impossible for me to relax. I’d thought that writing a nice romantic love scene for Maxie and Dillion would be the perfect way to put Ryan Jakes out of my mind, but Heat Flare and Maxie’s surprise and apparently relentless attraction to him is making that impossible.

As much as I like the idea of creating a love triangle with Maxie, Dillion, and Heat Flare, I meant it to be a mild sub-plot. Another challenge for the fictional lovers to overcome.

So why is it that the only scenes I want to write are the ones that involve the super sexy superhero Ryan Jakes inspired?

I stare at the picture of the smiling young man that I keep on my dresser. Lance Brooks. My one true love. He’s been gone for more than three years now.

Like Ryan is the inspiration for Heat Flare, the character of Dillion is one hundred percent Lance. Creating Dillion was something I did in a desperate attempt to hold onto my memories of Lance which, lately, have been starting to fade.

I won’t let that happen. In addition to promising to love him and only him forever, I also swore I’d never forget him.

And that is exactly what it feels like is happening.

What’s worse is that instead of Dillion’s hands on my body, of Dillion’s mouth kissing me, Dillion’s voice whispering in my ear, my imagination keeps replacing him with Ryan, and that scares me to death.

Nothing good can come from taking my fake fling with Ryan to another level. Like Margo said, he’s way out of my league. Once he’s gotten what he wants from me, he’ll move on, and eventually that will include hooking up with a woman who’s perfectly suited for his fast and glamorous lifestyle.

And, since he didn’t want to come in, didn’t even kiss me good night while we were standing in the driveway, he’s clearly not really interested in me.

I punch my pillow in a futile attempt to make it more comfortable.

I can’t stop thinking about that last kiss we shared.

It’s like Ryan’s taste and feel have worked their way directly into my blood stream, infecting it, making me crave just one more, even as I know that one more will never be enough. I’ve never felt this way before and I don’t like it.

The next time I see Ryan, I’m either going to kill him for triggering this weird obsession – or jump him.

I shut off the light and close my eyes, willing sleep to come, but of course it doesn’t. I’m too keyed up.

With no conscious thought on my part, my hand moves to my bedside table and slides open the single drawer. My fingers grope around in the space until I find my rabbit and tug it from its hiding place at the back of the drawer.

Just holding the electronic device is enough for me to break out in a sweat. My fingers stroke its length, but I don’t activate it.

Logically, I know there’s no shame in pleasuring myself, that it’s actually perfectly natural, but each time I find myself using the toy, I can’t stop feeling ashamed, like using it somehow means I’m being disloyal to Lance. I can’t shake the feeling that his memory should be enough to keep me warm and satisfied.

I try taking comfort in the fact that on the times when I can’t resist using the device to relieve tension, I picture Lance’s face.

But not now. Despite my best efforts, even though I’m lying just a few feet from his photo, Lance isn’t the one my mind focuses on. The only guy I can think about is Ryan.

I imagine Ryan stalking closer, a predatory gleam in his eye as he climbs onto the bed, my mattress dipping beneath his weight, rolling me closer. He lowers himself over me, his arms and legs tangling with mine as his mouth captures mine in a soul baring kiss. I reach for his belt, undoing the buckle before shoving his pants down his powerful thighs, freeing his cock as his magic hands slide up and down my body, discovering sensual places I didn’t even realize existed until this very second. I arch my spine, thrusting against him as his cock finds and breaches my entrance.

Unbearable liquid heat pools at my core as I activate my rabbit and slide it between my thighs before giving free rein to my imagination.