One Night With Her (3 page)

Tonight.
The word reverberated
through her, and she felt the slightest pang when she stepped off
the elevator and remembered it was a Thursday. She and Clay had
often had drinks on a Thursday night. While they still did from
time to time, along with her brother, Davis, the get-togethers had
been curtailed since Julia moved in with him. Understandable; the
man was committed, and now he was married. Julia hadn’t cut them
off; in fact, the redhead was lovely, and Michelle had visited
Julia’s bar a few times. But it was simply too hard for Michelle to
see them together that often, so she’d kept them in her life, but
put herself on a restricted Clay-and-Julia diet.

Keeping a distance was a necessity, but she
missed those Thursday nights. And she missed the drinks, truth be
told. She could
certainly
go for a little nightcap to finish
off the day. She’d always been comfortable in her own skin and with
her own company, so a quick solo stop at the bar was no big
deal.

She followed the music and sat down at the
tall, sleek metal bar, ordering a vodka tonic that arrived quickly,
and taking out her iPad. There was a new Tumblr feed she wanted to
peruse, but that would only happen from the privacy of home and bed
since it was a terribly naughty one. She had an article she wanted
to finish, and then a novel to dive into about a con artist, and
she’d even downloaded a new app for practicing Spanish phrases,
partly because the male voice on the app was so deliciously sexy.
Perhaps better to listen to that in her apartment, she reasoned, as
she lifted the cool glass to her lips and took the first sip.
Raising her eyes, she noticed that same man she’d seen earlier. He
was seated at the end of the bar, drinking what looked to be a
vodka tonic too. The glass hit his lips at the exact same moment,
his moves mirroring hers. His blue eyes seemed to sparkle, a hint
of wicked delight in them.

Same drink, same time, same absolutely
smoking-hot guy she’d spotted an hour before. One barstool away.
When she set the glass down, she said, “Jinx.”

“Jinx,” he repeated.

“Does that mean you owe me a drink?” she
asked, and then nearly clasped her hand over her mouth. But
instead, she went with it. “Sorry, that’s pretty much close to the
cheesiest pick-up line ever.”

His lips curved slightly into a grin. “Does
that mean you’re trying to pick me up?”

She laughed, and shook her head. The silvery
metal surface of the bar revealed a rush of red racing to her
cheeks as she answered. “No.”

She wasn’t, right? Those words had just
tumbled out accidentally, not because she’d seen him earlier and
memorized his face, and not because one quick glance at Mr. Cool,
Calm and Collected had her adding him to an arsenal of possible
late-night ammunition to feed her active fantasy life.

Very, very active, and she fed it regularly.
With Tumblr, with toys, and with wild images of pleasure.

“That’s too bad then,” he said, and his
voice was deep, with the slightest rasp to it, like velvet that had
a rough edge. That edge in it sent goose bumps down her spine. Or
maybe it was his words, the hint of possibility to them.

“Is it? Too bad?” she asked, tilting her
head to the side, shifting her body language, one hundred percent
aware that she was getting her flirt on.

“Not just too bad. It would be a
travesty.”

She brought her hand to her heart, playing
along. “How sad. I’d hate to be responsible for a disaster of that
degree.”

“You could avert it, then,” he said dryly,
arching an eyebrow, then taking another swallow of his drink. The
sight of his lips on the glass had her mind galloping off to a
naughty land, because those lips looked delicious. Soft and
kissable, while the rest of him looked hard and strong. She liked
the way his tie was loosened, and his jacket draped over his chair.
A businessman in repose.

“I could, couldn’t I? If I were interested
in avoiding such a sad turn of events.”

“Are you, though? Interested?” he asked.

Michelle was almost certain a butterfly had
taken off in her belly because her stomach flipped, and it was
primed to flop again. “I’m getting there,” she said playfully,
enjoying the back and forth, the very fine layer of innuendo that
lined this conversation like a cool evening mist after a hot day.
She brought her glass to her lips and took another drink, hoping it
would have the same effect on him that his sip had had on her.

“Excellent,” he said, giving her a quick,
appreciative nod. “So . . . are you having a good evening?”

“I am, as a matter of fact. Productive day,
energetic evening, perhaps a satisfying night overall,” she said,
and he chuckled softly when she said
satisfying
.

“What would make your night satisfying?” he
asked, his cool blue gaze pinned on her. Then he raked his eyes
over her, and she couldn’t deny that she enjoyed the possibility
that he liked what he saw.

“I enjoy a satisfying conversation.” She
threw down the gauntlet. He seemed a good sparring partner.

“Let’s satisfy you conversationally then,”
he said, picking up the challenge easily. “Now, I could ask you
what you do for a living, but everyone does that. I could ask what
brings you to this hotel, but that’s also trite. Instead, why don’t
we talk about something that people don’t usually discuss. For
instance, what is your favorite body part?”

She burst into laugher at his
out-of-left-field question and the completely deadpan manner he
asked it in, but then quickly grabbed the baton of the
conversation. “On me, I would have to say it’s my elbows. I have
absolutely amazing elbows,” she said, crooking her arm and showing
him her elbow.

“Wow. You’re right. Those are glorious
elbows. Smooth and soft, and yet pointy, too. And they make the arm
move.”

“Amazing, isn’t it?” she said, demonstrating
playfully. “And my second choice would be my right butt cheek.”

“Not the left one?”

“Well, they both are pretty nice.”

He raised his eyebrows appreciatively. “I
bet they’re spectacular,” he said, that sexy gravel of his voice
sending a charge through her.

“And you?” she asked, as her skin heated up.
“Your favorite body part?”

“I’ve always been told I have great ears.
It’s weird, but women sometimes stop me on the street to comment on
my ears,” he said, shaking his head in faux wonderment as she
laughed again.

“They are really nicely shaped,” she said,
pointing to his ears, then looking him in the eyes, before offering
a true compliment, as he’d seemed to do for her. “But you have
beautiful eyes.”

He flashed her a quick smile. “Thank you. So
do you. And legs. And arms. And lips. And eyes. Okay, here’s
another question,” he said, after he moved through the sweet litany
of compliments, as if he wanted to give them but was careful to not
be more forward until he knew if she wanted it.

“Wait,” she said. “You didn’t research
interesting questions to ask women at bars, did you?”

“What if I did?”

“Did you?”

“No.” He held up his hands as if to say he
was innocent.

“The favorite-body-part question just came
naturally to you?”

“A lot of things come naturally to me,” he
said, with a confidence in his voice that bordered on cocky. She
kind of liked it. More than she thought she would. He leaned back
in the bar stool, his whole demeanor assured and relaxed, as if
nothing could throw him off his game. She was willing to bet he was
in a profession that valued this sort of mindset. She was also
pretty sure this was an ideal mindset for random bar chatter.

“All right, then. Let’s see how you do on
the other side.”

“Turn the tables on me.”

“I will. Since we’re not talking about
professions, how about this one? If you had an extra thirty minutes
free in the day for fun, what would you do with it?”

“Shoot hoops,” he answered immediately.
“You?”

“I’d spend more time on Tumblr,” she said,
and left it up to him to figure out what she did there. When he
gave her an approving nod as he downed more of his vodka, she knew
he understood what Tumblr was good for.

“Perhaps we should go back to that pick-up
line, then?”

“The one where I buy you a drink?” she
asked, as a mischievous look flitted past his blue eyes. Damn, they
were gorgeous eyes. A pure and light blue, like the crystal waters
off Fiji.

“Or I could buy you a drink,” he offered,
and this time the cool charm was gone, and his tone was direct. A
direct line to her desire to spend more time with him, here at the
bar.

There was a rustle of noise as the man
grabbed his phone and his glass and stood up. Was he leaving? No,
he moved a seat closer, and that brief few seconds of him standing
gave Michelle the chance to look up, and admire his height. He had
to be easily over six-feet tall. That height was a basic
requirement for dating, she and her friend Sutton had joked. A man
needed to be a “standard six” and then some, preferably.

He gestured to the stool next to her. “Is
this seat taken?”

“When you sit down in it, it will be.”

“Then I will gladly make sure it’s taken,
and that no one else can get it.” He smiled at her, and extended a
hand. “I’m Jack. Just Jack.”

She shook his hand as he sat next to her.
“Michelle with two
L
s. I used to have one
L
in my
name, but it always looked like it was spelled wrong, so I just
decided to add the second
L
. Because I can.”

“Hell yeah, you can. And it’s a pleasure to
meet you, Michelle who now has two
L
s. I hope this isn’t too
forward of me, but you don’t seem like a woman who’s going to get
offended easily. I noticed how hot you are when you walked into the
hotel an hour ago.”

Hot.
He’d called her hot. Not pretty.
Not beautiful. But hot. She’d take hot. She’d happily take being
called hot, because hot was what she felt when he said it. Hot all
over. Bothered in all the right places.

“How hot?” she asked, eager for more of his
compliments.

He leaned in closer, and lowered his voice
to a sexy whisper. “Fucking hot.”

She shut her eyes for the briefest of
moments, letting the words flare through her body, igniting
something inside of her that usually was only lit up from her
fantasy life. But now she was feeling something in real life, from
a real person, who seemed to have real interest.

“I believe we could make a nice mutual
admiration society then, because I noticed the same of you. Also
about an hour ago.”

He raised his glass and clinked it with
hers. “To mutual admiration.”

“And to another drink, and I will buy.
Because it looks like we’re ready for another one,” she said,
glancing at her nearly empty glass.

“I’m ready for more,” he said, and brushed
his hand against her shoulder. A fresh blast of sparks raced
through her body as he traced a soft line along her collarbone. The
tiny touch that started on her neck spread through her, like a
golden comet, leaving heat in its wake. In the span of time, his
touch was a blink, but it held the promise of so much more.

“I’d be up for more,” she whispered.

“Much, much more,” he said slowly,
seductively, that deep, sexy voice threading its way through her,
settling down between her legs, turning her on to the point where
she was picturing reaching for that wine-red tie, tugging him
close, and learning how that stubbly goodness on his jaw would feel
against her. And how much more he could raise the heat inside her
body with a kiss.

She ordered but when the bartender returned
with the drinks and she reached for her purse, Jack placed a hand
on top of hers. Firmly. “I was only joking about you paying.”

“What if I want to pay?”

“I’m not going to let you pay, Michelle,” he
said in a determined tone, his bright blue eyes fixed on her.

She swallowed, looked down at his hand
covering hers, and already her imagination revved into hyper-drive.
Long, strong fingers. Big hands. Holding her down. Pinning her.

He seemed to sense where her mind had gone,
or maybe he just felt the tension radiate from her body, because he
didn’t move away as he paid for the drinks. Before she knew it, his
fingers were laced through hers, and he was holding her hand at the
bar.

She’d never known holding hands would feel
so erotic, but with the charge in the air between them, this was no
kids’ play. It was almost like . . . foreplay. Then, it most
decidedly became the start of something when he stroked his thumb
over her palm, tracing lazy circles on her skin, a promise of what
he might be able to do with those hands. She nearly combusted from
the spark he’d set off inside her body, like a fireworks twirler
lit up and racing.

She shut her eyes briefly, breathed out, her
body betraying her. There was no hiding the lust she felt radiating
in the air. It was like heat in the desert, shimmering on the
horizon. Undeniable.

He was a stranger who wasn’t quite a
stranger, and he was the only thing she was thinking about right
now. Her mind was one hundred percent here, and nowhere near her
past, nowhere close to anyone else, not lingering whatsoever on the
man she had thought she loved for years. Nope. She was present,
only present, and she enjoyed this moment so much that she hoped it
lasted and knit itself into the rest of the evening.

Into sex with a stranger.

Because that was some of the best sex there
ever was. No holds barred, no past, no future, no emotions or
history to cloud the moment.

She knew what she wanted tonight. A night
with him.

Wet Kisses

He was no virgin. He was no saint.

He’d had a quiet year by choice. Guilt had
clawed at him, and though he’d had plenty of chances, and plenty of
attempted set-ups from women in his office who wanted to introduce
him to their sisters, or their best friends, or their cousins, Jack
had kept his nose to the ground and his pants zipped. He was a mess
in the head, and a fuck-up in the heart, and that had kept him out
of the bedroom.