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PROLOGUE
YEARS AGO
DAMIEN
The brightest billboard in Times Square is flashing empty promises for a “new and improved” sleeping pill that has failed me hundreds of times before.
A suited businessman kisses a half-naked woman seconds before he jumps into an ocean of feathers and surrenders to "endless slumber.”
Years ago, I would’ve been intrigued enough to order a monthly dose, but I’ve finally learned my lesson. I’ve tried every formula on the market—Ambien, Temazepam, anything that ends in “lam”—and my suffering remains the same.
I can drift into momentary daydreams and shut my eyes for an hour at a time, but I haven’t experienced a whole night’s sleep inyears. The hypnotists and research doctors have declared me “a hopeless case” and “a high-functioning insomniac” doomed to live this way forever.
Since I’ve given up fighting those facts, I work all night and in the shadows, bending and stretching every written rule before it breaks.
Tonight is no exception.
Turning off my car’s headlights, I tap my screen to ensure I’m on track for my next client.
Miss Warren
Are we still on for tonight?
Of course. I’m finishing up some last-minute things for work first.
Miss Warren
Okay. You can come inside (no pun intended) whenever you get here. I left the door open. :-)
When I’m sure I have everything I need, I head into the building and take the elevator to apartment 33B.
An oversized wheelchair and a set of crutches guard the closet doors. Brochures from physical therapists hang from colored thumbtacks.
Miss Warren, a stunning redhead, suddenly steps in front of me and smiles. Her silk black robe is hanging wide open, revealing a silver bra and matching panties.
“Since you’re a professor,” she says, stepping closer, “I have an important question.”
“I’m listening.”
“Have you ever read a romance novel?”
“Not yet.”
“Well in the one I’m reading now, there’s a part where the hero picks up the heroine and fucks her against the wall,” she says. “I want to try that tonight.”
“I thought you were recovering from leg surgery.”
“Why would you ever think that?”
I point at the wheelchair and crutches. “An easy assumption.”
“Oh, that…” She shakes her head. “No, those things aren’t mine.”
“Hmmm.” I push her against the wall, sliding a hand down her thighs. “So, your legs aren’t hurting at all?”
“Not at this moment.”
“And you’re not in any pain?” I whisper against her lips.
