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again. He lets go and pulls out his phone, typing a password and handing it to me, watching me with eyes that seem the most intelligent eyes I’ve ever seen. “Meyers, type your phone number down for me?”
    I add it under Hottest Piece of Ass I’ve Ever Had.
    The barest hint of a smile pulls at the corners of his lips, enough to give me flutters. “Nice.”
    He writes something on his keypad and my phone vibrates with a new text.
And accurate.
    I smile, and he looks at me, wearing that super-sexy almost smile.
    And suddenly I cannot explain—and am not sure have ever felt—the kind of happiness I feel right now.
    He drives me home in my own car, and when we reach my building, he rides the elevator up with me, walks me to my door, and brushes a kiss on my forehead as he rubs the pad of his thumbs over the corners of my eyes and whispers, “I’ll be in touch soon.”
    When I slide my shaking, deliciously fucked body into my bed with about an hour to go to dawn, I can’t sleep. I play with names for his profile on my phone. Sex fiend. Sex machine. Sex god. Playboy god. I settle on Greyson and whisper, “Greyson,” the name rolling off my tongue like velvet.
    I squeeze my eyes shut and feel like convulsing all over my bed. I text Brooke, Pandora, and Kyle, in a group.
Me: I just met someone. Guys I just met SOMEONE. Not a douche! He actually brought me home and all the way up to my door. AAAAA!!! Fuck you, guys, if anyone ruins my day tomorrow, I’m having your heads!
Kyle: You’ll be too busy giving head to your new man to think about mine.
Pandora: Dude. Are you on ecstasy?
Brooke: WHAT? Tell me everything!!!

THREE
----

HER
    Greyson
    I flip my vibrating phone open as soon as I’m out of the building. “You might be wondering why you’re tied to a bathroom stall with this particular number on your cell phone screen,” I murmur into the receiver. “Well, you were about to do something that was going to cost you your dick. You were about to touch something you have no right touching, get it ? You have a debt to pay. You have three days. Ticktock ticktock.” I hang up and smash the phone to the ground. Then I grab my other phone and dial Derek.
    “Come get me.” I shoot off the address, then walk a couple of blocks and dispose of the phone before glancing up at the building I just left her in.
    When Derek pulls over in a dark SUV, I jump in and open the glove compartment. I pull out my ticket, fake ID included. “Drive this to the warehouse. Stay put. Number twenty-four will be making a payment soon. How’s your wife?”
    “Good. You get some work done?”
    “When don’t I,” I say.
    Melanie. I’d seen her before. Been watching her from afar.She’s the sort of girl you want to fuck, but I never knew how badly until I saw she was going to pick up one of my clients at that bar. By god, I knocked that man unconscious without even getting the payment. I just wanted him down because he sure as fuck wasn’t leaving with her. Nobody will.
    I stroke my phone with my gloved hand and resist the urge to text her something. Anything. I’ve seen this woman go through men like I use phones. I’ve seen her leaving hotel rooms looking like a hot, blazing mess. I’ve seen her coming out looking perfect. I’ve seen her laugh, cry, I’ve seen her face in the women I’ve fucked, and I’ve even seen her in my dreams and when I wake up. What this woman wants is something I can’t give. But I’m pulled, twisted, knotted, used, and useless when I look at her.
    I like watching her twirl and toss her hair, flirt around, cross her legs, curl her lips, look at her nails.
    I like the way she hunts for her next man; I liked watching because somewhere, deep down, I knew I’d have enough, and her hunt would be over the day I decided to let her know I intended to be that man.
    FUCK HER PRINCE CHARMING.
    She’s getting me.
    I’m halfway done. Twenty-four more names, and then Zero can be nothing. I shouldn’t have touched