Oh, Naughty Night!. Leslie Kelly

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      “I’ve surprised you again?”

      Nodding slowly, she admitted, “Just a bit.”

      “Sorry. I’ve been out of the country too long. I’ve lost my manners and forgotten how this game’s supposed to be played.”

      “Are we playing a game?”

      “Oh, yeah.”

      He breathed deeply to inhale the scent of her hair, and lightly, oh, so lightly, kissed her temple, just above the edge of the mask.

      She managed to stay upright at this first-ever kiss between them, even though worlds rocked and tides changed and planets skipped out of orbit at the brush of his lips on her skin.

      Every instinct she owned was telling her that this wasn’t Chaz, that he’d been replaced by a doppelgänger who didn’t hate her, who saw her as the sensual woman she’d become and not the mean-spirited kid he’d once known. What other explanation was there? A dream?

       This is really happening, isn’t it?

      “What kind of game?” she finally asked.

      Another brush of soft lips on her pulse point, then he inhaled deeply, as if imprinting her scent on his memory. “The kind that ends with us in bed.”

      “Holy shit.”

      He laughed. “Shocked you that time, huh?”

      “Oh, hell yes.”

      “Sorry. It’s just been a long while since I’ve been with anyone. A long time since I’ve wanted to, to be perfectly honest. And the minute I saw that smile, I just...wanted you.”

      How on earth could this sexy, forthright, demanding guy have been born out of the shy, nerdy boy she’d known?

      “I know it’s quick, and it’s crazy. I don’t usually do this. Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever moved so fast with a woman in my life. But the truth is, I want to take you out of here and have sex with you like the sun’s not gonna come up tomorrow.”

      Whoa.

      This time, she couldn’t keep her feet steady. Her ankle twisted and she stumbled in the attractive-but-miserably-uncomfortable high heels. If he hadn’t had his arms wrapped around her, she would have fallen right at his feet.

      “Okay, point taken. I’m going too fast,” he said as he held her tightly against him, so she could feel every rope of muscle, each ounce of masculinity. Including a ridge in his pants that said he was not in any way, shape, or form a boy. He was all, total, 100 percent powerful man.

      “Fast? You could be in a car commercial about going from zero to one-twenty in ten seconds flat.”

      “Sorry,” he said with an I’m-not-really-sorry shrug. “Let’s back up, play this the normal way, with introductions. I’m not mysterious like the guitarist. My name’s Chaz. What’s yours?”

      Gasping, she stumbled over her own feet again. Chaz tightened his grip on her hips, preventing her weak, suddenly trembling legs from giving out on her. Her head spun, her thoughts pinging around like a ball in a pinball machine until the reality settled in and became something she believed.

      Son of a bitch.

      “My...my name?”

      “Yeah. You have one, don’t you?”

      She nodded, her brain still scrambling.

      He didn’t recognize her. Chaz Browning had no idea who she was. That’s why he could make those suggestive comments to her—he had no clue he’d been making them to the girl he’d grown up with!

      The truth of it settled in, and she went over the past several minutes in her mind. He’d seen her, noting the costume, and of course the mask that covered two-thirds of her face. But he hadn’t recognized her, Lulu, the bane of his childhood.

      Actually, it did make sense. It was stupid of her to think he would have recognized her at a glance, across a crowded bar, after nine years. He’d remember her as a kid, and right now she was wearing a very sexy costume, and her hair was red and curly. Why on earth would he have known her?

      She should have realized that. In her own defense, she could only say she hadn’t been thinking clearly, she’d been too affected by the grown-up version of the boy she’d known. She was still affected by him, in fact, and growing more so by the minute.

      “How potent are those red drinks?” he asked, laughter in his voice. “If they induce amnesia, they should come with a warning label.”

      “Pretty potent.”

      She smiled weakly as the truth of the situation continued to settle in to all the most adventurous parts of her brain. A world of possibilities opened up like a long road at the start of an exciting journey. She was a stranger to him. Just a sexy stranger, a hot woman Chaz Browning was trying to pick up.

      And, although an hour ago she’d never have dreamed it possible, she was seriously considering letting him.

      “Umm...let’s hold off on the name thing for a while.”

      His eyes widened as if he thought she was kidding. When he realized she wasn’t, he shrugged. “If you say so.”

      She did say so, because she was still trying to figure things out. Things like how much she wanted him. Whether she could have him.

      Despite the obstacles—their careers, her bratty past that had to have left him hating her, their siblings’ angry relationship, their parents’ lifelong friendship, and all the stolen candy bars and broken tailbones history that said they could never make a relationship work—she found herself wanting him more than she’d ever wanted a man in her life.

      Her curiosity ate at her, of course, and the attraction had been instantaneous. But it was more than that. She had known him as a child, and she greatly wanted to know him as a man. Would the sparks they’d shot off each other throughout their lives transition into a different kind of heat altogether?

      Just once, for one wild night, could she have him? Take him, be with him, get the longing and the ache out of her system and then go back to being his friend/enemy without hurting anyone or letting things get complicated? Was that possible?

      Catwoman and Batman managed it.

      Sure. Nemeses to lovers worked sometimes, if only in the short run. Maybe it wasn’t smart, but it was at least possible.

      It also sounded very exciting.

      There was just one problem. It had to be in the short run. There was no way they could have any kind of future, not with all the baggage and the family issues. Besides, he was an internationally traveling reporter—and she intended to stay right here and change the world in other ways.

      Meaning if something happened between them, it had to be a one-shot deal. Something with no drama, no angsting, no questions even.

      Which meant Chaz could never know the truth.

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