Somehow, she was the one who caught his attention. She’d been drinking; these events always made her nervous and uncomfortable, so by the time she ran into him she was loose and downright flirty. There were two lines for the bar, and he was to her right. She tried not to stare, truly she did. Not only was he stunning, he was being lauded as one of the best literary minds of a generation, and the idea that she was within arm’s reach of such genius made her giddy.

And there was the skin, that luscious forearm peeking out from his rolled-up sleeve.

And so she’d touched him. Stroked the fine, lightly furred skin of his arm. She didn’t understand the impetus, but she’d done it. He’d smiled down at her, widely, the imperfect front teeth charming, and offered to buy her a drink.

At that point, Sutton was a foregone conclusion.

Later, they were both drunk, pleasantly so. They left the party and went to the elevator. She thought her heart would burst from her chest waiting for the doors to slide open. She knew exactly what was about to happen. The last little bit of rational thought she possessed screamed, Don’t! But the naughty party girl in her, the one she’d so carefully excised when she’d gotten out of college, massaged her skin, slid down between her thighs, and said, You know you want him.

Then they were inside the elevator. The doors whisked closed. There were mirrors. They were alone.

“Here’s my key,” Ethan had said, rubbing up against her like an itchy cat. “Come to my room in ten minutes.”

“Why can’t I come now?” Too much Scotch was making her bold, so bold. “What are you going to be doing for all that time?”

“Trust me,” he’d whispered in her ear, licking her earlobe, sending delicious shivers down her spine. “Ten minutes.”

Trust me. Two words better off never spoken among strangers.

She’d gone to her room, brushed her teeth, her hair, put on deodorant. Glanced in the mirror, ran a finger under her eyes so the mascara wouldn’t run. Took off her panties.

The party-girl lust was making her act completely out of character, and the excitement of it was overwhelming. She couldn’t wait ten minutes, stalked the hall until her watch said it had been eight, knocked lightly. He’d opened the door and swept her inside with a laugh.

“I just wanted to see how good you were at following instructions,” he’d said, and kissed her, long and deep. The sex had been better than anything she’d ever experienced. He looked like he’d be amazing in bed; he lived up to his promise. Those hands. Those long, gorgeous hands.