Heat lanced down my throat. An inflamed concoction of spicy cinnamon, rubbing alcohol, and literal fire.

"Shots, shots!" Sophia had said.

I wished she hadn't.

I hated chugging. I hated clubbing. Shots were a mandatory thing in our crew, and since we were celebrating my upcoming temp gig, and Sophia's new job at a fancy modeling agency, I wouldn't pass this up.

"Shots, shots!" I'd echoed, cringing as I allowed the foul liquid past my lips.

"Eden, come on!" Nico rushed me into finishing my shot so I'd join him and the others on the dance-floor.

Dancing was another mandatory part of this outing.

I swerved away from the neon countertop to gauge the view. No one was really dancing; instead they raised their phones to capture their antics for social media.

They were the New York City elite—the mid-twenty, thirty-something hotties with money.

"Eden, seriously!" Sophia's sharp voice echoed into my ears.

I winced. If I didn't make it to the dance-floor before her favorite song was over, she wouldn't let me live it down.

I grabbed my mojito for a sip of liquid courage; a gulp of mint would do the trick.

I spotted Sophia's lithe frame from afar, her dark skin reflecting the flashy pinks and greens of the overhead lights. Next to her, Nico ogled a man who'd been grinding his ass appealingly.

I gritted my teeth and pushed away from the counter at last.

Then I smacked right into a pillar; no, not a pillar, a person.

I let out a grunt, but fixed my face into a smile, ready to admit it was my fault—

Oh, wow, she's...something else.

The woman I'd crashed into stood before me, clutching her half-spilled drink, dark eyes ablaze with rage.

"Excuse you," she said.

A few drops of her pink-tinted beverage had released all over her shiny satin shirt, staining the edges where they dipped between her voluminous breasts. She was tall; two, three inches more than me, and I was a measly five foot four.

You little bug, you fucked up my outfit, she was probably thinking.

My lips trembled as I took in her smart beige pantsuit, tight around her thick thighs. The material stopped just above her ankles, exposing tanned legs, and a pair of matching stilettos—where a few more splashes of her drink had landed.

"Oh, shit." I bit my lip as her eyes narrowed on me. "I was definitely not paying attention. I would have noticed someone like...you."

She had a short crop cut of black hair, with angled bangs covering one side of her face, highlighting her high cheekbones and heart-shaped lips. Her long sleeves were rolled up, exposing cryptic tattoos on her arms, and dark-nailed fingers wrapped around her martini glass.

She was stunning. A classy broad with a classy suit that I'd ruined, and expensive shoes that would cost a fortune to clean. She was like a businesswoman out of a stressful meeting, who'd come across an assistant who'd ordered the wrong coffee.

"Clearly," she said. Her scowl was intimidating, yet incredibly sexy. She was pissed, but there was something about that anger that turned me on. "It's not like I'm invisible."

One of her sculpted brows arched as she studied me, waiting for me to lather her in profuse apologies, or to prostrate myself at her feet.

She looked like the type of woman who'd have me tossed from this place with a snap of her manicured fingers, and wouldn't even bat a lash. Like she owned the club.

"No, you're not, for sure," I said. Was she the boss here? Could she throw me out? "Don't move. I'll grab you something to wipe that up."

She grabbed my wrist. "But you're not invisible, either."

I anticipated a glare that would make me melt. She'd ask me if I knew who she was, and who the hell I thought I was.

But she didn't glare at me. Her eyes softened, and her lips curled into what might only be described as a sultry smile.

"Hi," she said, her textured voice freezing me in place, unable to free myself from her grip. A whiff of what she was drinking—something spicy and meady—blew into my nostrils.

"Hi," I replied, sucking my lips in, then remembering the red lipstick I'd worn and how easily it came off. "Um, I really am super sorry about, uh," I gestured at her shirt, "all that. If you let me go I can grab some napkins—"

"Don't bother," she said, bringing her half-empty cup to her mouth, taking a languorous sip. "I'll buy a new one. Prada owes me, anyway. So I'd rather not let you out of my sight, you little vixen. Where have you been all night?"

Prada?

My jaw collapsed as she tugged me closer to the bar. There, we weren't near the speakers, so we could hear ourselves talk.

A lavishly dressed, intoxicatingly sexy woman had approached me? Flirted with me? It'd been months since I'd come out as pansexual, but I'd yet to feel comfortable enough engaging a woman and taking it to the next level.

How hadn't I seen her until now? I'd been so focused on figuring out how to pay for my tab, and how to avoid dancing, when I could have been flirting with her.

"So, tell me," she said, those deliriously dark eyes zoned in on me. "Where have you been, hm?"

This woman was too fucking hot for me to remember how to speak. "Here and there," I said, shrugging one shoulder flirtatiously—or so I hoped.

She was drawn to my bare shoulder before refocusing on my eyes. "You're a vision."

I wore high-waisted black jeans, an off-the-shoulder lace-top that accentuated my moderate breasts, and a sparkling necklace dripping down into my décolleté. Thank you, Sophia. "I rammed into you, and you spilled your drink, and I—"

A low growl escaped her mouth. I'd been watching her lips a bit too intently and captured the sound, and it shuddered through me.

"Rammed, oh, I like that word." She pressed a hand to her chest. "You're forgiven for that, sweetheart. As for the spill...don't worry about it." She downed her current cocktail, then set the glass on a nearby table.

She angled back, taking in every inch of me, her tongue passing slowly over her lips. Like I was a delectable pastry behind a glass cover.

Well, she was a goddess, and I could only be flattered by her attention.

If I'd been so bold, I'd have ogled her from her gorgeous black curls to the tips of her perfectly polished shoes. I'd have taken note of her tempting curves and her large boobs filling out her luxurious shirt.

Heat flooded within me the longer she looked at me.

"This might be too forward," she said, pulling me nearer, a mere inch of space between us. "But would you like to go? Leave this place and...get some air?"

I did want to leave with her—this was the opportunity of a lifetime! My first official night with a woman like this? A specimen of excellence and delicious sexiness?

But I'd promised Sophia a few dances. I never broke promises.

"I...I can't," I muttered, tucking a few golden blonde tresses behind my ears.

My hair stuck to my neck, my cheeks overheated. Either the alcohol was catching up to me, or this woman was affecting me deeply. She had a strong presence, a straightforward but grouchy demeanor, and the hottest, most sophisticated sensuality I'd ever seen.

"Oh." She slouched. "Oh, wait, no—" She winced. "I'm so sorry, you don't...you're not into women, are you?"

"Oh, I am." I grinned. "I most definitely am. But it's that I...I came with friends, and I promised that I'd dance—"

"Dance?" The corners of her lips slid into a sly smile. "I can arrange that."

Her hand wrapped around my wrist again. She yanked me to the dancefloor, near where Sophia and Nico gawked at me.

She placed her hands on my waist and undulated her body from one side to the other. She swayed to the rhythm, and moved me in time with her, as if teaching me the steps.

I twisted with her, enjoying her soft touch. She slid her fingers between mine, pulling me into her arms, her body warm and enticing. She twirled me, and pressed my back to her front, grinding on me as she clutched my hips. Something small and hard jammed into my upper spine, but I couldn't tell what it was.

When she spun me around, I realized I'd felt her nipples, firm and erect, showing through her satin top. She was so aroused that I could see through her, picture the plump perfection beneath the fabric.

Oh, fuck.

My crew was invested in my dance with this tempting stranger. They knew I'd yet to explore all the new options afforded me as pansexual; and now they saw me in a heated dance with this woman who'd gotten me hot and bothered.

"Sexy," mouthed Sophia.

"Rich," said Nico.

The stranger's hand snuck around to my front, over my stomach. She guided me closer, shoving herself into my ass. Thrusting so close that I felt her skin against mine, the heat of her body liquefying me.

When her face nestled into my curls, her nose tickling along my neck, her lips placing delicate kisses along my goosebumped flesh, I knew.

I'd had enough alcohol—now I craved this, craved her, and wanted to get out of there.

I gyrated in her arms, facing her. "Hey."

"Enjoying yourself?" Another whiff of her tangy aroma came at me.

I got on my tiptoes and spoke into her ear. "Does your offer still stand?"

"Yeah?" She pulled back and rubbed her tongue over her teeth. "You're interested?" Her mouth moved to my ear. "Just to be clear, I'm trying to fuck you."

Desire swelled in my gut. "Yes," I managed, trying not to get tongue-tied. "I want that too."

Her lips crashed into mine within seconds, and I knew I'd made the right decision. A one-night-stand with a hot, confident, strong woman was all I'd needed.

"Let's go," she said, her voice raspy with yearning. "I just moved into my place, so there are boxes everywhere...do you mind if we get a room downstairs, instead?"

I was woozy. The kiss left me unstable. Did the alcohol affect my coordination, or was it her lips engulfing mine?

She was everything I'd fantasized over, and so much more.

I said bye to Sophia and Nico and followed this intoxicating woman out of the club.

In the elevator, she secured me against the mirrored walls and glued her mouth to mine. Her lips were sticky and sweet and intoxicating.

I wished I could flip us around, get her against the wall, to see us reflected in the mirrors to further turn myself on. There was something about watching that got me going.

The doors opened too soon, allowing us into the lobby. This woman was somehow able to not only secure us a room, but a suite. She didn't even have to coax the check-in clerk—one flash of her black AMEX granted her everything she wanted.

After another session of tongue-twirling in the elevator, we stumbled into a suite the size of my studio. She could afford this without batting an eyelash? What did she do for a living to be able to spring this together?

I drank in her delicious body as she closed the door behind us, slipped off her shoes, and paraded into the living space. Her curves were so perfect, I couldn't wait to get my hands on them.

As I removed my heels, the sexy stranger made her way through the main room with the swiftness of a panther, taking me with her. In the bedroom, I fumbled around for the light switch, but she pressed my hand to the wall, stopping me.

"No lights," she whispered, her breath blowing along my jaw, down my neck.

"Why?" Why wouldn't this mythical beauty want me to see every angle of her as we fucked? I craved her. "I just want to—"

"No lights. Keep it simple. You," her lips trailed over mine, "are the kind of girl I could fall for, and that can't happen. So, no lights."

I, too, wanted a no-nonsense, uncomplicated one-night-stand. And that smoldering look she'd given me after our kiss in the club...yeah, I could have fallen for her too. In a heartbeat.

But I had no intention of opening my heart. I wanted sex, pure and simple—and so did she.

There were minimal lights to filter in through the window and distract us. Enough to gauge her outline, to decipher a button from a zipper. To hide my nerves as I attempted to make her come, with no clue what I was doing.

I didn't push any further on the light issue.

Her lips were on mine again in an instant. When her tongue crept in, she had a flavor of salt with a dash of spice. My mouth tingled.

Her hand wandered as her tongue picked up the pace, making me dizzy with desire. Fingers tiptoed down my back, my waist, then rested on my jeans' buttons. She undid the first, then the second, and pulled the zipper down.

She didn't tug my pants off, but she did sweep her finger over my underwear, reaching between the wet crease that already pooled with my arousal for her.

"Oh, my," she said, as her fingers rubbed over my sensitive spot. "I can feel you over the fabric. Looks like someone is pretty eager for me to fuck her."

I moaned, tilting my hips forward to push her finger harder against me. It was primal; that urge grew, and my body started to take over, bringing me to places my mind normally wouldn't go.

She smirked, then let out a sexy laugh as she smoothed my underwear aside. She snuck over my labia, stroking each lip slowly, avoiding the damp center.

I arched my spine, demanding.

Finally, she plunged her fingers into my crease. A satisfied rumble slipped from her as she met with my desire.

My jeans were tight, but not enough to stop her from locating my clit and circling it in measured motions, while nibbling at my earlobe. "You're going to come fast for me, aren't you?"

I was so caught up in this high of being touched by this incredible woman, I couldn't answer. A groan broke from my mouth.

She smiled as she licked my ear, her breaths hot and harsh over my delicate skin. My legs jiggled and I was thankful I'd taken off my heels; I'd have lost my balance in seconds.

"Tell me, sweetheart," she whispered into my ear, making me shudder. The intensity rose as she journeyed to my clit, as if it were flashing neon lights at her to guide the way.

Would I be able to find her erogenous zones, to please her as she pleased me? I'd expected us to be drunkenly clumsy, but she knew what she was doing. She knew how to—

"Oh fuck," I said, as her finger sped up, propelling me into pleasure that would soon spill me over the brink.

"Mmm."

I was so close that I almost asked her to slow down. I greedily wanted more of her touching me. The way she expertly teased my center, nudged the sensitive spots into obeying her every command, I didn't want this to ever end.

But it was no use; the more I tried to hold back, the faster she flicked. Her rhythm was so speedy I couldn't keep up. My nipples hardened, chafing against my lace bra, and my pulse accelerated.

My eyes rolled back, legs tightening. Bracing.

"Fuuuuck." My pleasure exploded out, my clit pulsating in satisfaction.

She extracted her finger, chewing on her lip. I braced for her to stuff that finger into her mouth, to taste me; but instead, she brought her finger to my lips. She pried her way in, swirling the tip around my tongue. Making me taste myself.

I was...delicious. Tart and sweet; a flavor that woke me, made me ready for her all over again.

"How fucking good do you taste, hm? Enjoy that, you naughty girl." She ripped her finger out and set it into her mouth, her breath hitching as she savored me. "Fuck, yes, you're heaven, baby. I can't wait to get my mouth on you. Savor that perfect pussy of yours, and come while you come."

Maybe I should have had a few more shots before we left. Stayed a little longer. Danced a little more.

Or maybe this was the best way to celebrate; it was my night, and why shouldn't I have sex with an amazing, hot woman as a treat to myself? Why shouldn't I—

Quit your doubting, Eden Meyer, and fuck this woman to reward yourself. You deserve it.