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  Her friend held up the phone and tapped in a reservation time. “All done. Don’t you love these new apps?”

  Skye growled. “One drink. But I’m warning you. I’m not going to be any fun, no matter how awesome the bar is.” Kari had tried to drag her downtown for months. At least she would make her friend happy even if she was feeling miserable.

  “Got it. One drink. Meet me there at eight. I have a new dress I’m going to wear. What about you?” Kari peered over the monstrous desk that took up most of the space in Skye’s office.

  “Um, what’s wrong with this?” She glanced down at her black suit. It was her power suit. The one that was supposed to scream ‘I am a competent, intelligent, kick-ass advertising executive’. Today, it had failed miserably.

  “Nothing. I love that suit on you. But I thought you might want to go home and change.” Kari picked up her purse and waited by the door.

  Skye shrugged her shoulders. “Nah. I might as well pull together all of the files for Greg now so I don’t have to do on Monday morning. I’ll just wipe this account out of my office before I meet you. I don’t want to be reminded Monday that I lost it.”

  She scrunched her nose. It still hadn’t sunk in what had happened this afternoon. She was positive she was going to run point on the San Diego tourism ad campaign. It had been her project for six months, and today it had been ripped from her hands.

  “I’m just glad you agreed to go. I’ll see you at eight.” Kari waved good-bye to her friend before turning for the elevators.

  “I’ll be there.” Skye returned to the task of organizing the files and figuring out how she could hand over all this hard work. Disappointment didn’t even begin to describe the void that had suddenly opened in her chest.

  “What can I get you? Are you alone?” The waiter placed a cocktail napkin in front of Skye. Now that she had actually made it to the bar, she started to regret not changing out of her suit. Sure, it was chic but compared to the cute club clothes surrounding her it looked stuffy. Although, that was the problem, wasn’t it? She was stuffy.

  “Can I take a look at your wine list?” She smiled nervously. Kari should have beaten her here. It took longer to box up the tourism reports than she thought. She checked her phone again but there was nothing from her co-worker. She decided to give her ten more minutes before calling.

  The waiter returned with a leather-bound list. “Here you go.” He scornfully glanced at the empty seat across from her.

  She ignored what he was insinuating. She had not been stood up. “Thanks. I’ll take the California Moscato.” She pointed to one in the middle of the page. Fifteen dollars for one glass of wine seemed outrageous, but that was part of San Diego living.

  Skye had been in the city three years. After she graduated from college, she interned in Chicago for a year before landing her current job. She knew she was young, but she had spent three full years pouring her energy into this position. It didn’t take long to realize she wouldn’t move up the corporate ladder if she didn’t start knocking away at some of the rungs. Advertising was exciting, but cutthroat. Today was a prime example.

  The waiter placed the chilled glass in front of her. “Is your date a no show?” He smirked.

  “No—she’s my—” There was no point in explaining the situation. “No.”

  He walked away as she reached for her phone. Kari had officially surpassed the safe time to be late. Skye dialed her number.

  “Kari? Are you ok?”

  “Oh, Skye. I feel terrible.” There was a muffled sound.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I think it was the sushi we ordered at lunch. I have a terrible stomach something. I’m so sorry—hold on—” Skye thought she might have heard retching. She cringed.

  “Don’t worry about me. Do you want me to bring you something?” She tried to think of what was good in these situations. Saltines and gingerale perhaps.

  “No. No. You should stay away. It’s not pretty. I’ll call you in the morning.”

  “Ok. But if you need anything—”

  “Got it. Bye.” Kari hung up.

  Skye looked at the phone in her hand. She had a full glass of wine and was sitting in the middle of the bar alone. Great. Friday night couldn’t get any better. The void that started this afternoon in the conference room when she was sitting in front of all her peers spread through her chest. She wished she could stomp on it, punch it, or just kick it up Greg’s pompous ass.

  “I guess your date didn’t show after all.” The smug waiter was back. What was wrong with this server?

  Before Skye could think of a witty retort, a man slid into the seat across from her.

  “No, her date is here.” He smiled, flashing white teeth, flanked by edible lips.

  Flustered she looked at him. Where did this guy come from? “Uh—yep. He’s here.”

  The waiter, looking annoyed, moved on to the next table.

  “Thanks.” She looked across the table puzzled. “He’s been on me about that empty seat since I got here, but you didn’t have to do that.”

  “Sure I did. Can’t let a beautiful woman sit alone in a bar and get harassed by a waiter.” He smiled again, and she stopped herself from licking her lips.

  “Well, thanks again. You don’t have to stay. I appreciate it.” She sipped the wine, glad that she had ordered it.

  “Since I’m here, why don’t we share a round?” He raised his eyebrows. “Unless you really do have a date and I’ve crashed your evening.”

  There was something undeniably sexy about his confidence. It wasn’t just his face or his body. Today had been the worst, most horrible, shitty day in the history of her days in San Diego. So if suddenly a hot guy with blue eyes wanted to have a drink with her, she was going to do it. She needed some way to forget the hell she had been through. Skye threw out all of her rules.

  “Ok. What can I order for you?” She turned to look for the surly waiter.

  “Oh no, sweetheart I’ll get it. I can get this round.”

  “What? You have a problem with a woman buying you a drink?” She challenged.

  He raised his hands. “No. Buy away. I like it.” He cracked a smile.

  The waiter returned. “He’ll have a…” Skye offered, wondering what his drink of choice would be.

  “Bourbon and coke,” the fake date answered.

  “Alright.” The waiter disappeared.

  “You start with the hard stuff.” Skye studied him. He was wearing charcoal pants and a light blue shirt rolled up to his elbows. He was fit and tan, but the close haircut was throwing her off. She skimmed through a list of possible scenarios: attorney—no, real estate—no, probably in pharmaceutical sales—yes, that seemed likely.

  “Well, I just got back from a trip. And it is Friday night.” He winked at her and she felt the color rise in her cheeks.

  The realization hit her that she didn’t know when the last time she had been on a date was. Of course, this didn’t count as a date. This was some random guy who sat down with her at a bar—not a date. It probably wouldn’t last longer than it would take for her to finish this glass of wine.

  “So you travel for work?” The moscato tasted sweet.

  He laughed and leaned back in his chair. “You could say that.”

  She set a heated gaze on him. “Are you playing the mysterious card?” With her new embrace of reckless Skye, she liked not knowing much about him. It was thrilling just sitting and sharing a drink with a hot stranger.

  “Depends on how much you want to know.” He eyed the waiter as he dropped the bourbon and coke on the table. “Thanks, man.” He kicked the glass back. Maybe he was being reckless tonight too.

  “Why don’t you make up something?” she suggested.

  He tilted his head. “Ahh, ok.” He paused. “How about this? I’m a doctor in town to work on a groundbreaking case. I’m about to save hundreds of lives, maybe thousands. But I’m only in town for the weekend.”

  “So, the health
of the world rests in your hands?”

  “Uh-huh.” He finished the drink and rested it on the table.

  “I have to say I’ve never had drinks with a famous, important doctor.” She grinned over her glass.

  “What about you? What’s with the suit?” He nodded toward the lapel on her jacket.

  Skye pursed her lips. This was her chance. She could be anyone she wanted to be. She didn’t have to be an ad executive, working tireless days to compete for accounts. She could be someone hot and sexy, someone that could make any man putty in her hands just for the night.

  The idea popped in her head. “I’m a librarian in town for a literacy conference.”

  He coughed. “A librarian who wears a sexy black suit to the bar?”

  She blushed. Ok, maybe librarian wasn’t the best choice, but she had a vision of piling her dark hair in a bun and letting him pull the pencil holding it in place until it fell around her shoulders. She shook the image from her head. She didn’t even know this guy.

  “I get the feeling you’re enjoying this.” She looked at her empty glass. Stuffy Skye would pay for her wine, walk out of the bar, and never look back. She would head to her apartment and start strategizing on how she could get the account back from Greg. But tonight, with the sudden appearance of this stranger, she was Reckless Skye and she held up her hand to order another glass. This must be what sexy librarians do.

  “Can I get the next round?” He smiled.

  She relaxed in the seat. “Sure.”

  Two drinks later the room felt a little fuzzy, and her mysterious and spontaneous date for the night grew increasingly more appetizing. He had moved his chair next to hers after the last round.

  “What do you say we get out of here?” he whispered in her ear. He let his finger inch up her thigh.

  The words shot chills through her. She nodded knowing all night she had been pulled toward him like a magnet. The answer was going to be yes from the minute he sat down. She grabbed her purse while he paid the rest of the tab. It was pointless to argue about who should pay for drinks when she was getting ready to let him undress her.

  He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and ushered her toward the door. Skye knew where this was headed, and it was exactly what she wanted. She wanted him to do things to her in the dark that would make her forget her name, her job, and her awful day. She wanted to scream and breathe and feel him against her. There was no doubt in her mind she wanted all of those things. For once she didn’t want to feel in control. She wanted him to drive the void right out of her.

  “Where?” She turned toward him on the sidewalk, the gas lights flickering over his shoulder.

  “What about your place?” he asked.

  She nodded again. If he wanted to take her behind the bar and throw her against the brick wall, she would probably be ok with that. Everything about this felt forbidden, dangerous, and wrong, but she couldn’t stop. She wanted him.

  “Well, since I’m in town for the conference I have the keys to my friend’s apartment. It’s only a few blocks away.” She liked carrying out the librarian charade a little longer. It felt liberating.

  He smiled, brushing the hair from her neck. Her knees almost gave way. Three glasses of wine with a flirty touch, and she was a goner.

  “Sounds perfect.”

  She grabbed him by the hand and tugged for him to follow her. She didn’t want to lose her nerve. She needed to get laid in the worst way.

  The keys dropped to the floor as she tried to pull out the right one. “Dammit,” she cursed under her breath.

  Finally, she found the right one and jiggled the key in the lock before shoving the door open. For once, she was glad she spent all her time in the office. Her apartment was immaculate. Not a dish in the sink or a magazine left open. It was as if no one lived in the turn-key place. She blushed knowing this guy didn’t give a damn about her décor, as long as she didn’t have chintzy china on the walls and pictures of cats knitting he probably wasn’t going anywhere.

  She debated offering him something to drink, but he snaked his arms around her waist and his mouth was hot on her neck. He peeled the jacket from her arms, tossing it on the floor. She tried not to worry about the hundreds of wrinkles forming in the silk. Reckless girls didn’t worry about insignificant details.

  “I like the librarian look. Just wish you had some glasses.” He growled. “I’ve always had a librarian fantasy.”

  She gasped as he spun her against his chest. All night they had flirted and told funny stories about their fake identities just to get to this moment. The moment when they could dive into the attraction that had held them at the table for hours. She had gotten lost in his pale blue eyes at first glance. Now she was ready for her body to give in to the rest of him. She wanted to dive in head first more than anything.

  Her hands searched for the buttons on his shirt and flicked them to the side. The lights from the courtyard below glowed through the blinds, and Skye marveled at his arms and his chest. Dangling around his neck was a necklace with two tags. She felt them between her fingers and searched his eyes for answers. Tonight wasn’t supposed to be about answers she reminded herself. It was supposed to be about getting lost. She pulled the tags over his head and tossed them on the floor, letting her fingertips graze the space on the chest where they used to be.

  This guy was unreal, and suddenly she felt very self-conscious. But something in the look he cast her made her shake those insecurities. He wanted her. He wanted librarian, mysterious, reckless Skye. And that’s who he was going to get.

  She moaned as his mouth took hers, and she tasted the combination of bourbon and wine on his tongue. He held her face with one hand while the other pulled the camisole from her skirt and worked its way along her stomach, trailing the soft skin until he reached her bra.

  She reached behind her back to unclasp it for him. He pulled the cami over her head and with it the bra. She realized it was the only sexy thing she was wearing, but it didn’t matter anymore as it landed on the floor.

  Her head rocked back as he kissed along her throat and his tongue made a line straight to her breast. He rolled a nipple between his fingers before his mouth covered it with heat and lightning strikes of sensation. The place between her legs began to respond with a pulse that was driving her wild.

  “Damn, I want to take you right here.” He nodded toward the couch.

  “Do it.” She breathed.

  He yanked on the zipper to her skirt and it fell to the floor in a puddle. She stepped to the side, kicking it out of the way. She lay against the cushions, her body on fire with anticipation. This was a first. She had never had a one-night stand. She strictly adhered to dating for a solid month before sex. It was the golden rule she never broke, but right now that seemed like the most absurd rule ever created. Why wasn’t she doing this all the time, she thought as he hooked his thumbs on the edge of her panties and stripped them off her skin, leaving her naked on the couch. Reckless felt good. Reckless felt empowering.

  She watched as he unbuckled his pants and chucked them on the floor. The only thing separating them now was a pair of black boxer briefs. She tugged on the waistband, ready for what was inside.

  He kissed her deep and hard. Instinctively she wrapped her arms and legs around him, willing him to press into her.

  “Hold on.” He shifted on top of her and reached for the floor. She heard him rustle through his pockets. She laid there, her legs locked against his waist, her chest heaving, the fire in her core burning for him. “Dammit,” he mumbled.

  “What’s wrong?” She didn’t want to unwind from him, but she released his waist as he sat back on his heels.

  “This is awkward.” He ran his fingers over the top of his hair. “Do you have any condoms?”

  Sudden panic and full-on embarrassment ran through her. Condoms? If she had them did that say she had sex all the time and therefore kept an ample supply in close proximity? Or if she didn’t, did it say she was a lonely spinster
who never had sex because she was a total workaholic? Since she couldn’t bullshit her way out of her desperate spinster status, she sat back on the couch, her palms pressed against her forehead.

  “No. I don’t.”

  “Shit.” He breathed heavily. “Sorry, I thought I had one.”

  The shadows from the blinds, slashed across his face. “So, you usually keep them with you for medical emergency trips?” she asked.

  He chuckled. “Yeah, something like that.” He turned toward her. “I guess sex is out, but that doesn’t mean everything else is.” He grinned as he pulled her under him.

  “Wh—what are you doing?” She wiggled under him, not sure what was happening. Without a condom, she assumed her hormones would have to go back in check. It was a disappointing thought.

  “There are other ways we can make each other feel good.” He smiled as his head dipped toward her breasts, and his tongue began a slow delicious torture that had Skye writhing under him.

  “Oh,” she sighed. “Ok. Keep. Doing. That.” Everything that came from her mouth was breathy.

  His hand slipped between her legs and parted her so he was touching her where she hadn’t been touched in forever. She tried to bring her knees together, but it felt good the way he stroked and moved his fingers inside her until she was rocking her hips toward him faster. She didn’t care how it made her look or that she was going to ask for more. Being with a total stranger stripped away inhibitions that usually kept her on the safe and quiet side of her sensuality. She’d never see this guy again.

  “Don’t stop,” she begged. “Please.”

  “You like it?” he whispered in her neck.

  “More, give me more,” she pleaded. She gripped on to him with her life as she thrust against his hand. “I want it.”

  Was almost-sex with a stranger supposed to feel this incredible? She didn’t know, she just wanted to take it. He could kiss her, lick her, touch her anyway he wanted if it felt like this. She felt her core tighten and pulse as he moved against her. Why weren’t there any damn condoms? She held on as long as she could, but he was skilled and she was no match for his fingers. At first it was a slow wave that shook her until finally she was trembling and panting underneath him from massive waves of electric heat.