“No.” I shake my head. “Stand up. And pull your dress off nice and slow. For me.”

I step back to watch, shifting the flashlight to face her. She’s on display, standing like a vision from my dreams. Listening to my commands, the way I like. And, just like that, her dress falls. Perfectly shaped breasts. Flat, defined stomach.

“Now, come suck my dick before I fuck you.”

“Yo, dude. Earth to Slade. Those drinks are sitting on the bar, man.” Mike gestures to the shot glasses sitting before me.

I take them off, holding two in each hand, and pass them out, completely ignoring the bartender, who is expectantly staring at me.

Lauren. It’s her.

Walking away from her group of friends, she raises her head. I dart my eyes, figuring out where she’s headed while trying not to lose sight of her in the crowd. She has table service, which means she isn’t coming to the bar for a drink. Finally, I see the word RESTROOM in pink neon letters on the opposite end of the club.

Her shoulders are tight as she presses through dancing bodies. The Lauren I met at the wedding was fun-loving and constantly smiling.

I distinctly remember us talking about anything and everything, joking around as the sun came up while she sat in my arms in my truck’s bed. I told her about growing up in Virginia, and she asked me a million and one questions about what it was like to be the captain of the football team in a small town. I asked her about living in a big city and if upper-class private school was as cutthroat as they said. We talked about work and our dreams. She was unsatisfied with her current career, and I told her I was looking forward to handling more at Milestone and expanding my security business. Damn, did we laugh together. I ribbed her about her uptown-girl status but knew that she was totally different than the picture she painted to the world. Actually, she amazed me with how funny and smart she was. It was … unexpected.

She made it clear that she was looking for long-term, not that I would have been opposed to that option once upon a time. Hell, after she left, I wanted to call her. We were opposites, but there was something real between us. A connection that went beyond attraction.

After the Lilly fiasco, a relationship with a woman can only be temporary. At least, until I regain control of my psyche. Lilly and I spoke after that horrible night. Luckily, she had a father who’d served. She urged me to seek help, and we managed to part on decent terms. As of today, anything more than a one-night stand isn’t in the cards. It can’t be.

Between memories of war and keeping my day-to-day life maintained and focused, there’s no room for anything more than a quick fuck, followed by a drop-off. But tonight and for this particular woman? There are plenty of hours for fun.