“What happens at Comic-Con, stays at Comic-Con.”

Jenny Nguyen repeated the mantra to herself before she adjusted the push-up bra that made her size A breasts look like overflowing C cups. One small pat smoothed her long green wig into place. The Sailor Pluto costume was a little on the immature side, but it was still adult enough to serve her purposes. She snatched the three condoms off the bathroom counter and tucked them under her bra strap before her courage faltered.

It was the last night of the San Diego Comic-Con, and she had only one mission. She was going to go outside her comfort zone. For once in her life, she was not going to be the good girl everyone expected her to be.

She was going to get laid.

Jenny grabbed the silver and garnet staff that completed her costume and ventured out of her hotel room. After enduring the cold, sterile process of artificial insemination ten days ago, she was determined to reclaim her femininity one way or another.

And hot, sweaty sex with a good-looking stranger seemed like just the thing to do it.

The hallway and elevator were empty as she made her way down to the lobby bar. Some of the crowds had thinned, many already on their way home after five days of utter geekdom. A majority of those who lingered were still in costume. She grinned. This was probably one of the few places where she could go out in full cosplay and not be considered a freak.

She scanned the crowd on the way to the bar. Like most cons, there was an overabundance of geeks and dorks she could probably have a great time talking to over a drink, but none of them got her blood pumping. Her limited sexual experience had been disappointing at best. The couple of men she’d dated back in college were about as adept in the bedroom as C3PO. No, tonight, she needed a real man. One who wouldn’t blink when she suggested they hook up. One who would kiss her until she had no problem shedding her clothes and hopping into bed. One who would make her feel like a desirable woman.

But first, she needed to work up the nerve to voice that request.

She settled onto an empty bar stool and ordered a soda, wishing it was a shot of tequila instead. There was still a small chance she wasn’t pregnant, but not small enough for her risk drinking. She owed her brother that.

As she sipped through the tiny bar straw, she watched the room from under the veil of her false eyelashes. There was a table of Trekkies nearby with one possible candidate. The group of Jedi knights were having too much fun with their fake light sabers to notice her, but a table full of teenage hobbits just outside the bar had no problem ogling her bare legs and overflowing cleavage. A flush stole onto her cheeks when they loudly started placing bets on what she’d be like in the sack. She was thirty, but she wasn’t ready to venture into cougar territory.

Time to move to the other side of the bar.

She grabbed her staff and spun around, only to collide with a mass of muscle. Her soda splattered across her breasts, and her staff clattered to the floor. Her ankle twisted in her high-heeled boot, but a pair of steady hands caught her.

“Careful, Sailor Senshi,” a deep voice with a hint of suppressed laughter said.

Jenny stilled and drew in a sharp breath. The warm scent of leather filled her nose, followed by notes of a spicy, masculine cologne. Her pulse jumped, and her skin tingled with awareness. She slowly lifted her gaze to look into the face of her rescuer.

Lines crinkled around a pair of bright blue eyes that complemented the amused smile on his face. He was dressed like Mal from Firefly, a true Browncoat down to the last detail, but she doubted Nathan Fillion looked this good in person. Her tongue tripped over itself as she stuttered, “Thank you.”

His grin widened, but he made no move to let go of her. His gaze flickered from her chest back to her face. “Trust me when I say the pleasure was all mine.”

Bingo! Perfect candidate for a one-night stand found.

Now she just had to gather up her courage to follow through with her plan without sounding like a desperate idiot.

He grabbed a few bar napkins with his free hand. “Sorry about spilling your drink.”

Under normal circumstances, she would’ve taken the napkins and cleaned up the soda herself, but the image of him lowering his lips to her skin to remove the droplets off her breasts popped into her mind. A shiver coursed through her. Would he suck them up with teasing nips, or would he use long, languid licks?

She tore herself away from her fantasy long enough to realize he was still offering her the napkins and wearing that amused grin. As she took them and began dabbing up the soda, she began to worry if she was reading him wrong. Robots and code, she understood and could manipulate with the best of them. Men were an entirely different matter.

Well, at least he gets points for being a gentleman.

And his hand remained possessively planted at the base of her spine.

“If anyone should be apologizing, it’s me,” she managed to get out. “I was in such a hurry to move to a different spot—”

“I figured as much.” His eyes flickered sideways to the table of hobbits. “I overheard what they were saying and was actually coming to rescue you.”

Her nerves abated, and a smile tugged at her lips. “And do you think a Sailor Scout needs rescuing?”

“Depends on the Senshi. If memory serves me correctly, though, Tuxedo Mask was always swooping in to rescue Usagi.”

“But as you can see, I’m not her.” She ran her gloved hand along his brown coat. “And I think you’re a little too casually dressed to be him.”

“I left the tux and mask at home,” he teased with a wink. “But why don’t we move to the other side of the bar so I can at least buy you another drink?”

She bit her bottom lip long enough to quiet that little voice in the back of her mind that said good girls didn’t hook up with hot guys they just met. She’d listened to that little voice for too long. Tonight, she was going to throw caution to the wind and finally know what it was like to embrace her sexuality. “That sounds like a fine idea.”

“This way, then, Sailor Pluto.” He took her staff and led her around the bar, his hand still on her back, pausing only a second to cast a threatening glare at the teens who’d been harassing her. That was all the time that was needed to silence them.

“Jameson on the rocks,” he ordered as they settled into the new seats. “And what did you have?”

“Just a soda.” When his brows furrowed together, she added, “I’m not much of a drinker.”

He shrugged. “Fair enough. So, should I call you Trista or Setsuna?”

A giggle broke free from the tightness in her chest. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were a covert fan of Sailor Moon.”

He covered his mouth with an embarrassed cough and leaned in closer. “Shh, don’t tell anyone.”

“Your secret is safe with me.” She crossed her heart and then lowered her eyes to the glass in her hand. “And actually, it’s Hue, but you can call me Jenny.”

The hard line of his shoulders eased, and he leaned on the bar, his upper body facing her. “Dan.”

She peered up through her lashes. Her heart thudded in her chest like the engine to the Millennium Falcon when it was about to give out. This guy was seriously hot, and he seemed to be attracted to her. Normally, she was more of a wallflower than a centerfold.

All hail the effects of the push-up bra.

“Nice to meet you, Dan.”

“So, where are the rest of the Sailor Senshi?”

Time to start playing the part of a seductress if she wanted to complete tonight’s mission. She lowered her voice to a seductive purr. “They’re in bed like good little girls.”

He seemed to get her message loud and clear as his gaze flickered down her cleavage and back again. “And I take it you’re not a good little girl?”

“Sailor Pluto is the oldest member of the Senshi.” She stretched her legs out and lifted her chest. “A woman among girls.”

Thankfully, he was looking at her as a woman.

Correction—as a woman he couldn’t wait to get his hands on. His fingers blanched around his glass, and he licked his lips before taking a swig of the whiskey. “What are your plans for the evening?”

To ride you until I’m screaming your name when I come.

Jenny’s cheeks flamed as the rogue thought ambushed her, and she focused her attention on the bubbles lining the inside of her glass. Being a temptress was harder than she’d expected it to be. Her whole life she’d been told to act modest and demure, to never engage a man for fear he’d assume too much. But tonight was her one chance to try something new and experience how it felt to be a bad girl.

“We’ll see how the evening goes,” she replied in a vague way that let him know she was open to suggestion without sounding desperate.

But she was getting desperate. Her body hummed like a horny teenager’s. She wanted to touch him, to taste him, to run her hands all over him. Maybe it was the carefree con atmosphere. Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones kicking in, even though she had no idea if she actually was pregnant. Hell, maybe it was confidence bestowed upon her by the push-up bra. All she knew was that Dan had her ready to shed her panties faster than any man she’d ever met.

He stared at her for a moment and then nodded as though he’d read her thoughts and understood the turmoil raging inside her. “What was your favorite part of this year’s Comic-Con?”

The nervous knot inside her stomach loosened, and the geek took over. She gushed about the costumes, the celebrity sightings, the films and panels. But unlike some other hot guys who’d seemed interested in her before, Dan’s eyes didn’t glaze over. Instead, he frequently interrupted her to add his own thoughts, sometimes even finishing her sentences. Her pulse quickened with each exchange, and she found herself inching closer to him as the conversation progressed. He didn’t flinch when their knees touched, and when his hand grazed her thigh, it seemed as natural as breathing. Before she knew it, their heads were bent low, their lips inches from each other.

He reached up to tuck her hair behind her air, and her breath hitched. His touch was gentle, and yet set every inch of her on edge.

He grew serious, his attention fully focused on her face. “You’re something else, Jenny.”


“Just that. It’s not often I meet an attractive woman who can quote Next Gen and give me the episode number it came from.”

She gave him a nervous laugh and tried to look away, but his fingers ran along her jaw and guided her gaze back to him. “What can I say? I’m a geek.”

“A very sexy geek.” He closed the space between them by brushing his lips against hers.

The logical side of her brain tried to classify the kiss. It started out soft and respectful, more of an attempt to gauge how receptive she’d be. When she didn’t pull away, the pressure became firmer. He was no longer seeking permission. He was seeking more.

And then all logic flew out the window as her baser instincts seized control. She parted her lips, allowing him to deepen the kiss. Warmth flooded her veins, and a haze of lust blurred her vision. This wasn’t a virginal geek hoping to get lucky. This was a man who knew how to make a woman swoon with his tongue.

Jenny yielded even further to him, sliding off the bar stool and into his arms. The heat from his fingers penetrated her costume, practically branding her back through the thin cotton. She grew bolder, sliding her tongue into his mouth and taking her time exploring it while she slipped her hands under his coat and ran them over the hard planes of his chest.

A strangled growl rose from his throat, and he pulled away, as breathless as she was. “We’d better take this somewhere else before we make a spectacle of ourselves.”

“Agreed.” But that didn’t mean she had to move away. If anything, it made her move that much closer to him, pressing her body against him while he hastily paid the check.

“Where do you want to go?” he asked, his voice raw with need.

“I don’t care, as long as we’re not interrupted.”

“My room, then.” Dan took her hand and led her to the elevator.

Common sense made one final effort to stop her, warning her that he could be taking her up to his room to murder her or remove both her kidneys for the black market or a hundred other urban myths, but she easily suppressed it when she saw the bulge in his pants. This was good, old-fashioned lust at its finest. With any luck, in an hour, she’d be heading back to her room to sleep off one hell of a sex hangover.

Once the elevator doors closed, he pulled her back into his arms for one more searing kiss that made her toes curl. This was what she’d needed tonight. Even if the sex was subpar, she’d experienced enough heat and passion to remind her she was more than just a uterus.

As the kiss ended, she noticed something hard pressing into her thigh. “What is that?”

Dan gave her a sheepish smile and pulled out a red piece of plastic. “My lucky die. I never leave home without it.”

Hot bod, awesome kisser, and a table-top player, too? Dan was everything she could’ve asked for in a man. She stood on her toes to deliver a kiss that let him know in no uncertain terms how aroused she was, ending it as the elevator dinged. “Now that’s sexy.”

“You have no idea how turned on I am right now.”

She grazed her fingers across the front of his pants. “I have a pretty good idea.”

His room was only a few yards away, and she was back in his arms again. Behind closed doors, he didn’t hold back. His hands were everywhere. Her ass, her breasts, her neck. She took a cue from him and shoved his coat off his shoulders before working at his belt next. They both had the same objective, and it involved getting naked as quickly as possible.

Dan found the snaps holding her costume together and had it over her head in a flash. He leaned in to sample her newly exposed flesh, but froze. He pulled out the condoms she’d tucked under her bra strap and held them up, one brow raised in a questioning manner.

Jenny crossed her arms across her bare stomach. “A good Sailor Scout is always prepared.”

“My God, you’re my dream woman.”

The glow from his words turned into a raging inferno as he lifted her up into his arms for another kiss and carried her to the bed. A sharp tug on her wig left it in a jade green pool on the floor just before he laid her down on the mattress. Thirty seconds later, he’d stripped down to his underwear and joined her.

But as quickly as he’d removed the main parts of their costumes, he slowed down and took his time removing her gloves and boots. He seemed to want to taste and explore every inch of skin he uncovered. It was quite different than what she’d imagined would happen tonight. She’d pictured picking up some stranger for a quickie in a bathroom stall, not a leisurely love-making session. A mixture of impatience and appreciation rolled through her, for as much as she enjoyed his lavish attention, her body screamed for release.

It wasn’t until he got to unhooking her bra that a brief moment of panic rushed through her. She tensed, and he paused to lift his head.

“Is something wrong, Jenny?”

Self-conscious shyness tempered her arousal. “It’s just that I—I mean, the bra is a bit of an enhancer and I didn’t want you to be disappointed and—”

He silenced her by covering her mouth with his, kissing her until her fears were forgotten. “Do you think I’d be any less turned on than I am now?”

She looked into his eyes and the desire simmering in them as he stared at her face. He wanted her, not her enhanced cleavage. A strange sensation bloomed inside her, one she’d never experienced outside the computer lab.