Illusions—we all create them. For some it’s to project an impressive image to a prospective employer; for others it’s to attract the eye of another. My illusion is a bit more...complicated. Years in the making, my secret has the potential to bite me in the ass. And not in the way I typically enjoy. Sex. As women, we’re judged for reveling in the same carnal pleasures that men do, but I’ve never been shy about my voracious appetite. Now, I’m under no illusions that I’ll find love with any of my one night stands. After all, I have one rule—no repeats—but it’s a rule that’s becoming harder to follow since Evan James came back into my life. Did I say back into my life? My name is Reagan Spencer, and you may think you know me, but... How well do we really know anyone?