One Night Only
The man across the room is fucking gorgeous.
He clearly works out, and his deep laugh catches my attention from where I’m standing with my friends.
He heads towards the bar, and I seize the moment, striding towards him. My hand is on his arm, the stiff leather of the jacket cool beneath my touch.
His eyes are a deep shade of turquoise, and I wonder if he wears contacts.
No one’s eyes are like that naturally.
“I’m just going to come out and say it, if you don’t mind.”
His gaze journeys down my body, his slightly glazed eyes widening with his smile.
Fuck, that voice.
It’s like melted chocolate dripping from a hot spoon, dang.
Not my normal type, but fuck it. I’m drunk, I’m bored, and I’m horny.
“I think you’re divine,” I say, folding my arms across my chest as I wobble slightly. “Are you single? Please say yes.”
His mouth curls into that delicious smile again as he chuckles. His eyes flicker over me, his body twisting towards me as he leans forward.
“If I say yes, will you let me see what’s beneath that fucking dress?” He mutters in my ear, his intoxicating scent making me shiver with desire.
“Yes,” I breathe, my ears ringing.
He’s a player. Good.
He nods, his eyes skimming the room before his hand rests on my hip, his mouth close to my ear.
“Come back to mine. I don’t live far from here.”
I’m drunk, but I’m not stupid. My best friend Lauren lifts her glass up in my direction, snapping a photo of the two of us on her phone.
Going home with a stranger isn’t big, and it’s not clever, but my girl Lauren and I have a plan for such eventualities. We carry pepper spray in our bags, and we share our location on our phones with each other always.
I don’t make a habit of this, but I’m a grown ass woman with my own business, so I’m allowed to let my hair down once in a while.
The stranger guides me out of the packed bar, my hand feeling strange in his. He walks with a confidence that kills me, and I can’t help but notice the envious stares I get as we make our way to the exit.
Once outside, the fresh air hits me like a slap in the face, and I inhale sharply.
“Should we get a cab?” I say, aware I’m slurring.
The man glances at me, a smirk on his mouth that makes a heart pool in my knickers.
“I live close by,” he drawls, nodding to an apartment complex behind him.
Ooh. A city boy.
“Good,” I whisper, allowing him to drag me towards the modern building.
He lives in the apartment’s next door.
Be safe. Love you.
We walk into the foyer, and he nods at the concierge sitting at the front desk.
“Mr. Cohen,” the concierge greets him with a polite nod, his eyes averting from mine when my heel slips on the glossy white tiles beneath my feet.
“Shit,” I hiss as a hand slips around my waist, holding me steady.
“Easy, darling,” he smiles, revealing immaculate white teeth.
The elevator pings, and we step in, his arm still around my waist. A flutter of nerves breaks loose in my stomach, but before I can change my mind, I reach up, my hand curling around his neck as I bring his mouth down to mine.
He tastes of beer and cigarettes, but the way his tongue moves against mine soon has me whimpering against him. He holds my face in his hands, kissing me urgently as he slams me against the elevator walls.
My hands are everywhere; in his hair, stroking his stubble, moving down his broad chest as his hand moves to the back of my neck, pinning me to his mouth.
I’m not sure how we make it to his apartment, but I barely get time to glance around it when he kicks the door shut behind us, his mouth moving to my throat.
“You’re fucking beautiful,” he mumbles into my neck, his hands moving my dress up eagerly as I press myself against him.
“Not so bad yourself,” I gasp as I tug at his belt.
He doesn’t disappoint.
We don’t make it to the bed, instead, he lifts my dress up, slipping a finger into my moistness.
“Ah, fuck. You’re wet for me,” he smirks as I smash my mouth against his.
His trousers hit the floor, and he tears the condom wrapper with his teeth, before rolling it on.
He lifts his top off, revealing a broad chest and full sleeve tattoos.
Oh, my God, I’ve died and gone to heaven.
“Get this off,” he whispers, dragging my dress over my head.
He gazes at me, shaking his head before he lifts one of my legs and wraps it around his waist.
I can barely speak, but I manage to nod my head as he enters me, his mouth pressing into my shoulder as I cry out.
He’s skilled, and blessed in the dick department, and I’m elated.
Our mouths meet, the primal need taking over as we fuck against the wall.
“Yes, oh my God, yes!” I’m moaning, and he groans as I lower my leg and twist around so he can enter me from behind.
Despite the alcohol during my senses, when he grips my hips and thrusts into me with some of the best strokes I’ve ever had, my core explodes with desire.
“Fuck, you feel good,” he grunts, picking up the pace as he wraps his hands in my hair. He tugs slightly, the pain giving way to pleasure in seconds.
I turn to look at him, his hair falling in his eyes as he bites his lip, staring down at his dick as he thrusts into me.
“You’re so hot,” I moan, as he looks up at me, a sharp laugh leaving his lips.
“Looks like we’re compatible then.”
The dull ache in my head is nothing compared to the throbbing between my legs.
I can’t open my eyes yet.
I’m teetering on the verge of sleep, the soft pillow behind my head dipping as I twist, snuggling down. The scent of wood spice and testosterone greets me, and my eyes ping open.
A broad back greets me, the mess of blond hair on the pillow makes me inhale sharply.
I give myself a moment to compose myself, before I push the covers back, revealing my naked ass body.
I slide out of the bed, finding my underwear on the floor. I drag them on, checking around the room before I leave to hunt for my dress and bra.
The apartment is huge, and I spot my dress and bra in a pile by the wall that has a fuck off cinema screen television screwed into it.
I clip my bra on, and yank my dress over my head, praying that my human vibrator doesn’t wake up. As good as it was, I don’t do awkward conversations. My bag and heels sit near the door, and I sigh with relief. I check my phone and purse are there, before sweeping my eyes over the apartment one last time.
I open the door and silently slip out into the hallway.
The elevator takes me to the lobby I recognise from last night, but thankfully there’s a different concierge on. Even though it’s glaringly obvious from my little black dress and bed head hair that I’m leaving someone’s bed, the lady smiles at me politely, wishing me a good morning.
It’s freezing outside, and I shiver, dragging my phone out of my bag as my eyes wince from the daylight.
Fucking one-night stands. Always a good idea at the time.
I’m alive, but not sure for how long. Freezing.
I text Lauren whilst ordering an Uber, my teeth chattering as I watch the tiny cars on the screen fight for my service. As luck would have it, my city centre location was swarming with cars, and I was soon on the road.
He was crazy hot! Are you still in one piece?
Yes, dear. I’m on my way home.
Brad was looking for you last night. He came in just after you left. I told him you’d gone home, but I don’t think he bought it…
Beautiful, hilarious, cheating Brad.
My stomach churns when I get out of the cab at the sight of Brad’s motorbike on my drive.
“Fuck,” I whisper, licking my lips.
Walking up to the doorway, I slip inside to see my ex on the sofa, his heavily tattooed arm thrown across his face as he slept.
I pause, allowing myself to take in his perfect form, tears stinging my eyes at what could have been. His jeans hang low on his toned waist, the snake tattoo he loves so much appearing beneath the grey T-shirt. My heart aches for him, but I shake my head, forcing my eyes away.
No, Jolie. He’s a cheating scumbag.
“Jolie,” his deep voice interrupts my thoughts, and I inhale deeply.
Don’t give him an inch.
“What are you doing here, Bradley?”
Take that, asshole. Full name usage.
He sits up, her black hair falling into his emerald green eyes as they take in my morning-after-the-night-before attire.
“I was worried about you, baby.”
I stiffen, reaching down to slide my heels off.
“I’m not your baby, and you don’t live here anymore. You need to leave.”
He stands, his eyes trailing down my body in disbelief, the corners of his mouth tightening as he frowns.
“Where were you, sweetheart?”
Oh, God. He’s pissed.
“Why?” He interrupts, walking in front of me. Up close, he takes my breath away again.
Every fucking time.
“You know no one can fuck you’re like I can, you’re being stupid.”
His hand reaches out to stroke my cheek, and I slap his hand away as he tugs me towards him, my body flush against his.
“You’re mine, baby girl. So tell me who dared to touch my girl?”
“I’m not yours,” I hiss, pushing against him only halfheartedly. Being in his arms felt right, but it shouldn’t.
“You lost me when you fucked that biker whore,” I say, shaking my head as guilt flashes through his eyes. “Or did you forget about that? Sierra, wasn’t it?”
“That’s not fair,” he mutters, his gaze sweeping over me. “I was drunk, me and you weren’t getting on—”
“Oh right, silly me,” I chuckle, pushing him away. “You were drunk. We weren’t getting on. Get out, Bradley. Leave your key on your way out.”
I push past him, and he grips my wrist, his voice hoarse.
“I fucking love you, Jole. I fucked up—”
I tug my arm away from his, tears welling up in my eyes.
“I love you too, but it’s not enough.”
His eyes harden when I walk away, and it’s only when I hear his engine roaring down the street do I let the tears flow.
I love him so fucking much.