Rhys didn't have a clue why he chased after the woman. Maybe it was the look on his friends' faces. Like somehow, if he didn't, he'd be admitting they were right about his choice in women. Or the strange feeling he'd gotten when she locked eyes. Whatever the reason, he rushed through the door into the parking lot like a high school boy after his first crush. And before he could stop himself, he called out to her. When she didn't acknowledge him, he hollered louder.

Intending to tell her it was nothing personal. Explain his no-pickup rule, and thank her for the drink, he hoped to let her down easy. But she turned to face him, brown eyes wide, hands and head kinetic, dark curls flying in every direction, sensuous lips forming words faster than he could listen. Then he felt it. A little skip in his pulse. It only lasted a second, but long enough to get his attention.

Whatever it was, it vanished, and he focused on her again. She was trying to brush him off in some type of reverse psychology. Who was this woman? In a few minutes, he found out more about her than most women on a first date. She had mother issues. Broken up with her girlfriend. From out of town and looking for a good time.

And when he held her hand, there it was again. That missed beat. Longer this time as if the physical contact intensified the symptom. Her hand, small and warm, trembled. He believed her story. This was a woman who didn't pick up one night stands in bars, or, he wagered, any other place.

He pulled her closer, and she stiffened, so he relaxed his grip. Hell, rules were made to be broken, so he asked her to buy him another drink. Not the best come-on line, and he wasn't sure she'd go for it.

She hesitated and drew a shallow breath. "See, I was right. I've shamed you into saying that. I should go back to my..."

Rhys yanked her closer and crushed his mouth down on hers. At first, she went rigid, then clutched his shirt to pull him tighter against her. He hung on to the kiss, and the heart blip became a full-blown arrhythmia. By the time their lips parted, she'd gone limp. He kept his hands around her waist for fear she might collapse onto the pavement.

She struggled for breath, and he pulled her tighter. He'd hold her all night if she wanted him to. "Did that feel like guilt or obligation?"

Head lolled back and eyes half-closed, she uttered, "Uh-uh."

"I didn't think so. Can you stand without me holding you?"

"Oh. Umm, yeah, maybe. I wasn't expecting that."

He released her and grinned wider. "Me neither. Now, let's get back inside. I want to see this band. I'm Rhys Wakefield."

"A-," she caught herself. "Elia Green."

The concert was an interlude for what Rhys had planned, and after that mind-blowing kiss, he knew she was on board. No need to hurry. A room waited right across the street, and they had all night. If it was breakup revenge she wanted, he was happy to oblige. Either the woman who left her hadn't been taking care of business, or it'd been a while because the way she kissed screamed more.

Weeks since his last, it was time to end the self-imposed celibacy. Not usually his type, Elia was the exception. Earlier in the parking lot, he liked having her in his arms. All curves, angles, and full rounded breasts that looked and felt natural.

He couldn't recall the last time a woman affected him this way. Maybe never. Oh, he'd experienced lust plenty of times, but never palpitations.

He held open the door, and she walked in ahead of him, fiddling with her hair. The band had already taken the stage and was in the middle of their newest single. He nodded toward his friends, then ushered Elia to the dance floor. He slipped both hands around her waist. She hooked her thumb in his belt loop, then rested her other hand on his chest and did the strangest thing. She circled one of his shirt buttons with her finger. Around and around, over and over, slow and steady, and his heart lost its rhythm again. About the time regular cadence returned, she worked the button in and out of its hole. He tried to pay attention to the words of the song, but that button action was driving him crazy.

The song ended, and he found an empty table in the back corner against the wall. He pulled a chair out, and she sat, then he leaned down to her ear. "You want a drink?"

"No, thanks."

"Sure?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Be right back." He made his way to the bar, placed his order, then turned to his friends. "What? Y'all don't have anything to say?"

Jethro raised his brows.

Brandon and Devon grinned.

The bartender delivered the beer, and Rhys took a long pull. "This is a first."

"I can't wait to tell Val and Ace." Jethro pulled out his phone.

"Don't get too excited. It's a one-night stand."

"It might turn into more, depending on how much you like her."

"Not possible. She's just in town for the weekend."

Devon turned to look at her again. "Hell, she's not your variety. More mine. Want me to take over for you?"

Rhys spun on his heel and spoke over his shoulder. "Turns out, she may be my type."

Arryn couldn't take her eyes off Rhys. Even now, there were parts of her still quivering. Some very private parts. The scene beneath the neon was the last thing she expected and admitted he took her breath away. She thought for sure he'd judge her unstable, and she had been when his hot lips landed on hers. She'd damn near dissolved into a puddle of molten flesh.

And those arms, big and strong, held her so tight that escape was impossible, not that she wanted to. Clutching his shirt, to bring him closer, she never wanted the contact to end. This kind of passion had long since died with Gianna. How could that be? Why stay in a relationship with someone if it felt as bland as oatmeal? Well, not tonight. Nope. She planned to release her inner Elia and set the world on fire. If not the world, at least room 118 at the LaQuinta.

For the next two hours, Arryn got to know Rhys better and decided this couldn't be a mistake. This was fate because she liked everything about him.

He had a close-knit family, an older brother, and a twin sister. He wasn't weirded out or pervy about her revealing that she was bi, and told her that his sister was happily married with two kids with a lovely lady named Val. It barely crossed her mind that his story of his sister's marriage was everything she'd previously envisioned with Gianna.

Like Devon, he also worked at Rolland Media, and Arryn wondered why Darcy had not included Rhys in her suggestions. Maybe she wasn't sure if he was single or not, but Rhys assured Arryn he was. He spoke a little about the possible takeover of his company and how he rarely went to bars.

When they started across the street, he didn't speak, and neither did she. She figured he had the same thing on his mind. Horizontal Hoedown. What else was left? Conversation? They'd spent the last two hours talking. Besides, she'd practically spelled it out in the parking lot. She didn't understand what the protocol was for jumping into bed with a guy she'd just met. She counted on him to make the first move. The unexpected lip-lock proved he was way more experienced at this sort of thing, even if he didn't pick up women in bars.

By the time they got to the elevator, her nerves were strung tight, and all her lady-bits tingled again. She rummaged in her purse for the key card. When she finally laid fingers on it and pulled it out, she dropped it.

Rhys chuckled and picked it up. At the door, he swiped it and turned the handle. She stepped inside first, with him right behind. He didn't wait for her to get rid of her purse. He clasped her bicep, spun her around into his arms, and took her mouth. She grabbed at him, and he pulled her into his groin, which proved he was more than ready.

He broke the kiss and whispered into her mouth. "I've been waiting to get my hands on you all night."

Just as eager as he, she worked his belt buckle.

He kissed her again, this time moving a hand to her breast, and the pressure felt so good, she groaned with pleasure.

From his belt, she went right to the button on his jeans.

He moved his mouth to her ear. "You and buttons, drive me insane."

Not sure she'd heard him, she pulled back a little. "What?"

"You fiddled with my shirt button while we danced, and I struggled not to let this happen."

He moved her palm south, and she gasped. He was big. Bigger than the last guy she was with before Gianna. Damn, she wished she could tell him. The thought brought a smile to her lips, then she slid the zipper down and ran her hand inside. Elia had retaken control because Arryn would never be so bold with a stranger.

A low growl came from deep in his throat, and he unzipped her dress. Her breasts tightened and heaved in response. She removed her hand from his pants, hooked a thumb in a belt loop on each side, and pulled them down. Unable to stop herself, she stepped back and eyed him. "Nice."

That got a laugh from him, and her face went hot. "I'm sorry." What was she thinking? Her cheeks flamed, and she leaned her head against his chest.

He tipped her chin up and smiled down at her. "Don't apologize. I appreciate the compliment."

She squeezed her eyes tight. That must have come from Elia because Arryn had never praised a man's penis in her life.

Rhys continued easing the zipper down the track until it gaped open, allowing her to slide the thin straps down her shoulders. He stooped and pressed his lips in the valley of lace, and Arryn whimpered. She didn't wait for his next move, she reached around, unhooked her bra, and let it fall loose.

Taking full advantage, he moved a few inches back and slid the straps off her arms, cupped her breasts, and covered one peaked nipple with his mouth.

The slow pull of his lips sent Arryn close to the edge. She must have lost consciousness for a few seconds because now her dress was on the floor and her panties were down to her thighs. His proficiency amazed her.

She stepped out of her shoes and let the bikinis fall to the carpet, thankful she'd bought new underwear. Now it was his turn to lean away and take a look. She ducked her head, but he lifted her face again. "You're beautiful."

She lowered her head. "Not really, but thanks."

"Hey, look at me."

The sincerity in his voice made her want to cry. She'd thought she could go through with this, but she couldn't. She'd not expected to like him so much. He probably had a condom, and she'd let him use it. Tomorrow they'd go their separate ways, and he'd never know what a horrible person she was.

"Didn't what' s-her-name ever tell you how beautiful you are?"

Unmanageable Elia must have sensed Arryn's discomfort because she took over with her crazy act again. "You don't have to say that. Clearly, we're going to—you know."

He placed his hand to her mouth. "Your clothes are on the floor, and my pants are around my ankles, so yeah, we are unless you change your mind, but that's not why I said it."

No, she couldn't use him. She'd live with the lies she'd already told, but there would be no attempt to make a baby with him. She didn't even know why she conceived such a harebrained idea in the first place. The sheer lack of morality alone...

He toed out of his boots, kicked his jeans off, then picked them up and removed his wallet.

Even in the pale light, she saw him grimace.

He stepped back. "Shit. I don't have a condom."

"What?"

He inhaled a quick breath. "I don't usually hook up with women in bars."

Her mind raced. Okay. She'd use hers. All she had to do was take one from the bottom of the box, and it'd be fine. "I have one." She nodded toward her suitcase.

"I'll get it," he said, already moving toward the bag. "Where is it?"

Arryn swallowed hard, and her heart slammed against her ribs. No turning back now. "Side pocket."

He opened the box, dumped the contents on top of the clothes, and picked up a foil square.

Her head spun. Three bad. Nine good. What percent is that? Three will go into twelve four times. Twenty-five percent. Only a twenty-five percent chance he got a faulty condom. Not great odds. But not terrible. Oh, God.

[[MATURE THEMES AHEAD]]

Clasping Arryn's hand, he tugged her toward the bed. She threw back the covers and slid across the sheet. Rhys crawled in, pulled her close, and kissed her again, then ran his hand between her legs and stroked her.

Statistics said she had a twenty-five percent chance of getting pregnant with a first try. Twenty-five percent. Twenty-five percent. Oh fuck, that feels good. Those stats had to only apply to unprotected sex, right? They were using a condom, so that had to be at least high nineties in terms of protection.

She shivered at his touch, and a knot formed in her chest. She liked him more than anyone she'd met in a long time. He brought out something in her. Desire. Carnal feelings buried long ago and replaced with compromise. She'd given up passion for a chance at security.

He rolled on top of her, and his erection pressed against her thighs.

She should stop him. She placed her hand on his chest and gave a slight push. "Wait."

He lifted above her. "What?"

"I'm sorry." Her voice cracked, and tears streamed from the corners of her eyes. "I can't do this. You're a nice guy. A really nice person and I like you. It's wrong to use you this way."

He rolled to his side, propped on an elbow, and wiped her tears with his thumb. "I get it. The lawyer woman did you wrong, and this is a grudge fuck. I'm alright with it." He leaned in and kissed her. Not one of passion but understanding. "Let me help you forget that even if it's just for tonight."

If she deducted the twenty-five percent chance with the condoms from twenty-five percent odds she had with a first time that left zero percent. Great odds.

Maybe that wasn't exact math. Hell, perhaps it wasn't math at all. At this point, she didn't know. Math was overrated. He could have slow swimmers, even if the condom had been faulty.

Then he kissed her again, this time with so much heat, she couldn't think straight. "Tell me what you want," he murmured.

You. This. I don't know. She opened her mouth to tell him as much but stopped. Because tonight she wasn't Arryn. Tonight, she was Elia, and Elia knew what she wanted. "I want your mouth on me."

She yelped in surprise when he grasped her waist and lifted her until her knees were on opposite sides of his shoulders.

"Yeah? Tell me what you want me to do." His fingers ghosted up her sides.

The position is so intimate, and she felt so exposed and naked above him.

"I want you to make me come with your tongue."

He grinned rakishly, slipping a finger through her folds, and pressed down on her clit. She gasped and rocked toward his face. "That what you want, Elia? My mouth on your sweet pussy?"

She nodded above him.

He tsked. "Say it, Elia."

"I want it," she whined. "So bad."

His fingers gripped her hips tight enough to bruise. "I'll give it to you, baby." He guided her down and pressed his lips to her slit, turning her gasp into a needy moan when his tongue flicked her clit.

Arryn was wound so tight she could feel an orgasm fastly approaching already. He captured her clit between his lips and worried it with his tongue until her legs shook. His arm wrapped around her waist, keeping her steady. His right hand slipped over her clit when his tongue starts to fuck into her, moaning as he tasted her heady arousal.

For several minutes, all she could do was shake above him as she tried to calm her breathing. She twitched and whimpered with every pass of his tongue.

"You're so, so close. Let go for me, baby," His arm tightened around her waist, bringing her closer against his mouth. She rewarded him with a broken moan as she grinded down on his face, grabbing a fistful of his hair to hold against her.

Right when the first waves of her orgasm started to course through her, he groaned and started up a relentless pace against her clit that had her gasping and pulling on his hair as the added vibrations sent her just over the edge. And then, with an arching of her back and a strangled cry, her world was white.

She finally released his hair from her iron grip and smoothed her hands down his arms, coaxing him to relax his grip on her.

She collapsed back onto the bed, her heart beating wildly as dots sparkled her vision. Riding his face like that, seeing the hunger in his eyes... well, that was going into the vault for future spank-bank sessions. He probably ruined her for everyone else, and they hadn't even had real sex yet.

He wasted no time, fumbling for the condom he left on the nightstand. He placed it between his teeth and ripped it open, removed the contents, and rolled it on. She eyed the foil, but couldn't tell. Okay, so maybe he hadn't grabbed a faulty one.

He pulled her on top to straddle him and turned up the heat by licking one nipple, then the other, teeth nipping at that sensitive skin.

He slid hard into her. Clinging to him, he rocked her. She leaned forward and kissed him, her lips so hot she thought they might scorch. Her body opened to him, welcoming him like a piece of herself she'd been missing without even realizing it. He moved in and out with long, controlled strokes, gauging her expressions of how each angle affected her. He clutched her hips and maneuvered her until the friction caused every nerve in her body to catch fire. They moved in a practice rhythm as if their bodies had somehow synced.

He pulled his lips away. "Forgotten her yet?"

Heaving for breath, a slow burn started deep in her belly and raced downward. "Who?"

He whispered a laugh. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

His controlled strokes grew more savage and less precise. Someone nearby was making a lot of noise. Distantly, she realized it was her; she was losing track of what was around her, of coherent thought. It was as if he was fucking all rationality out of her. He pounded harder and faster, like he was going to go through the bed. Her body responded, the building force consuming her and setting her on fire and still demanding more. She longed for completion and urged him on, bringing up her hips to meet his and clenching her muscles around him.

He gasped, feeling her grow tighter, and now his eyes burned with a passion that was nearly primal. "Let me see you come again," he gasped out. "Come for me, Elia."

Her vision blurred, and the pressure found its destination, plunging her over the edge of that dizzying ecstasy. She cried out loudly, and her voice felt raw as if it had grown hoarse.

She shuddered with sweet release, and he came into her. No sound came out as his lips parted, but he closed his eyes and held himself inside her after a final hard thrust, shaking with pleasure. She fell forward onto his chest and struggled for air.

Trailing his fingers up and down her spine, she wanted him again. What was happening to her? Molded together, she should push herself off, but he didn't seem to be in any hurry, and he felt so good beneath her, she wished to stay that way forever. She ran her tongue across his lips, and he moaned. When she moved to his throat, his Adam's apple bobbed against the kiss. She rocked against him, and to her amazement, he swelled inside her again.

"Oh, baby." His words strained.

He might be in pain, but he made no attempt to stop her. She thrust easily at first, then harder.

He cupped her hips and brought her tighter. Deeper. And when another orgasm released, her body convulsed, and she didn't recognize the sound that shrieked from her mouth. He didn't ejaculate or climax, and she didn't care. At least Elia didn't. Multiple orgasms. Back to back. That had never happened before. Ever.

This time she was almost too weak to move. She should be ashamed. She'd practically assaulted the man. What now? Should she thank him for the extra effort? Apologize?

[[MATURE THEMES OVER]]

"Damn. You went from almost backing out to overkill."

She raised up and stared at him. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what got into me."

He gave her a lopsided grin. "I did. Twice." Then he broke into a full laugh, shaking the bed so hard, she bounced off him.

"You must think I'm some kind of nympho, and I'm not. I'm so opposite of that. Usually."

"I'm not complaining." He removed the condom and dropped it in the wastebasket by the bed.

She started to say something else, but he beat her to it. "Can I stay?"

She faced him. "Really?"

"Yeah. And not because you just tried to kill me. I like you, too."

Her heart pounded in her ears. He wants to stay. Although his request made her happy, it also caused guilt to rise again. He was the sweetest, kindest, sexiest man she'd ever met, and he liked her. She didn't want him to leave. "Okay."

He looped his arm around her neck and pulled her close. They lay there for a long time without speaking, and she thought he'd gone to sleep, but when she moved, he pulled her tighter.

"I'm going to jump in the shower," she said.

He propped an arm behind his head. "That means I have to let you go?"

"Afraid so."

She went to her suitcase, shoved the condoms back into the box, got the other items she needed, and stepped into the bathroom. Once inside, she shuffled through the foil packages. Shit. So much for twenty-five percent. Two compromised packets remained. He'd used a faulty one. She dropped them into the trash can and covered them with wadded toilet paper. Her stomach churned. She sat down on the commode, put her face in her hands, and cried.

Kneeling by the tub, she turned the spigot, stepped in, and let the warm water rush across her skin. She needed something to wash the guilt away. Why did he have to be so wonderful? Why did he have to be so damn good in bed? Why couldn't he have been a jerk?

Thirty minutes later, after drying her hair, she walked to the edge of the bed, and from his expression, the black lace gown had been a good investment.

He ran his fingers along the plunging neckline. "Is this new?"

"Yes."

"Pretty." He scooted over for her to crawl in next to him, and when she did, he gathered her in his arms. "God, you feel good."

She released a long breath against his neck. "You're the sweetest man I've ever met."

"I was hoping for a manlier compliment."

She snorted. "You're also the sexiest. Is that better?"

Ba tum tsssss.

*fans self*

This turned out into a really long chapter, sorry about that.

TEASER: "Did you get shot?"