Box of 1Night Stands: 17 Sizzling Nights

by Sabrina York

  Owen caught his reflection in the mirror on the dresser. He didn’t look any different than he had when he walked into the hotel room the night before. His hair stood up in odd spots, he had that I-just-fucked-someone’s-brains-out look, but nothing else changed. Everyone assumed Addison was a girl, so why the fuck did it all have to end?

  A light bulb switched on his in head. Owen grabbed the key card from the table and ran out of the room, praying he wasn’t too late. He jogged down the hallway and caught the dark curly hair and the gray sweater entering the elevator.

  “Addison,” he called. “Addison.”

  A hand stuck out and kept the doors open as he arrived at them. “Owen?” Addison broke out into a smile. The tension in Owen’s shoulders loosened.

  “I don’t want this to be just for tonight.” He held the door open. “I want more.”

  “I do, too.”

  “I thought I wouldn’t be able to catch you.”

  “I pressed the button three times before I concluded you were not coming after me.” Addison reached into his back pocket and grabbed his wallet. “I am glad you did.”

  “Me too.” He wanted to kiss him, but he couldn’t risk it, not in a public elevator, not in a hotel.

  “I really do have to go, but here.” He pulled his card out of his wallet and handed it to Owen. “Call me when you get back from your road trip.”

  “I’ll call you when I get to my hotel.”

  “I’d like that.” Owen stepped back, allowing the doors to close, and glanced down. A professional card with Addison’s name, rank, and office numbers on the front; he flipped it over. The back read: Schnuckelchen, why not give love a chance?–Addison and his cell phone number.

  Owen, standing barefoot in a hotel hallway, with his shirt open and his pants half-zipped, knew he had just made the best decision of his life.

  Epilogue

  Owen took a swig of water then spat it out. A minute and twenty-eight seconds left. They were leading four to one. No way Detroit could come out of it. In less than two minutes, the Montréal Magic would be the East Coast Professional Hockey League champions. Glancing up into the stands, he caught Addison’s eye and nodded to him.

  Addison touched his nose in response and stood up. Once he reached the aisle, he sprinted up the steps, making it in time for the puck drop.

  Twenty more seconds clicked away, and the Roadsters pulled their goalie. Ten more seconds and another play stoppage, and the opposition called their time out.

  Their team sat back, waiting. TJ shifted in front of the net, left to right to left again, staying sharp. They didn’t need a goal this late in the game.

  Addison would be making his way to the locker room, putting on his skates. Just the thought made butterflies pound Owen’s stomach.

  The ref whistled for the end of the time out and, after the players took their positions, dropped the puck in the neutral zone. The Roadsters won the faceoff and drew back into their zone before starting their attack. The Roadster’s captain dumped the puck in and chased it. Dansey flattened the Roadster with the puck against the glass, and they fought for it. Todd came up with it and started down the ice. Before center ice, he slapped it. The defenseman for the Roadsters dove and swung his stick deflecting the puck up into the benches. The ref whistled the play dead.

  Coach tapped him on the shoulder. He checked the clock. Twenty seconds. A lot could happen in that time. He jumped over the boards and skated to his spot as Caz took another face off in the neutral zone. This time Caz won it. He passed the puck over to Wally who passed it over to Caz and then back to Scott. Time clicked away. The Roaders captain made one last play for the puck, and his defensive partner, Biz, flattened him.

  Scott took the puck and skated back around behind their net. Three, two, one.

  The buzzer sounded and all the fans in the arena cheered. TJ started jumped up and down, and her mask went flying, as did her catcher and blocker. She launched herself into Scott’s arms.

  Biz and a couple of the other defensemen hugged Owen. He lost all of his spare equipment as they celebrated on the ice. He hugged every teammate possible and a couple of guys twice.

  Owen made it over to Scott who squeezed him tight then glanced over to the bench where the families had already starting to gather, including Addison.

  “Are you sure you want to do this, Cartsy?” Scott asked. His arm was wrapped around TJ, and Todd had already been over at the bench to kiss Natalie.

  “I’m completely sure.”

  TJ shook Scott off long enough to hug him. “I’m so proud of you.”

  Owen smiled. Two weeks before he had gathered his teammates at the condo he owned with Addison, sharing with them the best decision he’d ever made. By inviting the team over he made the choice to tell them in his own terms. To his surprise, TJ had already guessed, and everyone else supported of him. At the moment, they were encouraging him as he made the biggest decision of his career, of his life.

  A media member stuck a camera and a microphone in his face. They might not play for the big leagues, but a Montréal team winning a championship would be headline news.

  Owen answered the question posed to him and promised to speak with them again later, as did Scott, who was called away to accept the trophy. Afterwards they all gathered at center ice for a photo. Someone handed him a cap that read ECPHL Champions, 2012. Damn, that felt good to see. An entire season of blood, sweat, and tears cumulating in one incredible moment. One look back at the bench reminded him the triumph wasn’t complete until he celebrated it with the person he loved.

  After the photos were snapped, the families of the players spilled onto the ice and the guys circled the rink holding the trophy above their heads. Some of the family and friends wore skates; a lot wore shoes and sneakers. He stood back and waited until Addison skated up to him.

  “Congratulations,” Addison said with a broad grin.

  Owen couldn’t help himself; he pulled his partner in for a tight hug and whispered in his ear in careful, slow German, “Bist du dir ganz sicher das du es willst?” Are you sure you want this?

  Addison’s gave an almost imperceptible nod into his shoulder. “Ich liebe dich, Schnuckelchen, ich liebe dich,” he whispered.

  “I love you, too.” He let go of Addison and skated over to center ice to accept the trophy from Scott, who had done a couple of victory laps with it between him and TJ.

  Owen kissed it and then raised it above his head. The stands were still full of fans who roared as he lifted it high. Skating to where Addison waited at the red line to join him halfway through his victory lap, he fell in beside him, and Addison reached up taking some of the weight of the trophy. Owen tried to ignore some of the odd looks they were getting from the reporters and the crowd. Skating back to center ice, they lowered the trophy before Owen leaned over, closed his eyes, and kissed his partner.

  Disdaining a light peck on the lips, they kissed with their tongues twirling around each other. He wanted to leave no doubt in anyone’s mind as to their relationship. Cameras clicked and flashed as everyone snapped photographs of a professional hockey player kissing another guy. He broke away from Addison and placed a soft peck on his check before he turned and handed the trophy off to Todd who winked at him and started his skate around the ice.

  Every camera on the ice turned to him. Four different reporters stood clutching their microphones, all hoping to catch a sound bite that would make the front page. Owen slipped his arm around Addison’s waist and faced them.

  All the reporters seemed to be waiting from them to say something. They held their breath, their microphones fighting for space in front of them.

  Owen put them out of their misery, “I’d liked to introduce my partner, Addison Krause.”

  The questions came fast and furious. One of the reporters he had the most dealings with asked, without any fanfare, “Are you gay?”

  “Yes,” he replied. Addison squeezed his waist, which made him feel a lot better.

>   Someone else shouted, “Do any of your teammates know?”

  “Yes, everyone does.” Owen glanced over at the group of players and friends. Several gave him a thumbs up.

  “How does it feel to come out on national television?” the first reporter asked.

  “It feels amazing,” Addison answered. “It feels very good that we are not hiding anymore.”

  “Are you afraid of any fallout with the league?”

  Owen shook his head. “Why would there be any fallout? There have been gay hockey players for years. They’re out there playing at every level. I happen to be the first one to come out in the open to say I’m gay, but I will not be the last.”

  A few more questions, including some from the French language station, which they both answered, and then they moved on. Once they skated away, Addison kissed him on the cheek.

  “Ich bin so stolz auf dich, Schnuckelchen,” he whispered.

  “I’m proud of you, too.” At a small commotion from center ice, he spun to see his captain down on one knee holding a ring box. Tears ran down the goalie’s face as she nodded.

  Loud cheers erupted when Scott lifted TJ into his arms and spun her around center ice. “Over there.” Addison nodded toward the bench. He dragged his eyes away from the happy couple and looked to Ian, Todd, and Natalie.

  She sat on the boards along the bench, and Todd stood before her, holding a similar ring box. Ian had his hands on her shoulders, his eyes sparkling. She launched herself off the board and into Todd’s arms, crying, “Yes, yes.”

  Todd let her go long enough for her to latch onto Ian. The three of them weren’t fooling anyone with their relationship, despite what they had wanted people to think.

  Addison reached over and grasped his hand, distracting him from his friends. He didn’t realize his lover’s intentions until a cool band slid over his left ring finger. He glanced down to find a sliver ring resting there. “Marry me,” Addison whispered in his ear. “Be my husband for now and for always.”

  Tears burned in the back of Owen’s eyes. Addison with his beautiful blue eyes stared at him, waiting for his answer. He remembered the first time he saw Addison, all of the firsts he’d shared with him. It hadn’t been easy. He’d thought his dad would disown him forever when he told him the truth, but with Addison holding his hand, they made it through until his dad came around. His parents, his sisters, were in the stands supporting him, supporting them. His coach had almost had an aneurysm when he found out about him, but his wisdom and humor carried him through telling the rest of his teammates. Addison had been there for him through everything. He didn’t realize how lost he had been until he found Addison.

  He never wanted to feel that way again.

  A couple of the tears slipped down his cheeks, and he brushed them away. “Yes,” he choked out. “Yes, but only if you promise to be with me always.”

  “Until death do us part,” Addison agreed. A couple of tears leaked out of the corner of Addison’s eyes and he reached up, wiping them away. Owen’s partner, his future husband, pressed a small circular object into his hand.

  He slipped the ring over Addison’s finger. “Ich liebe dich, mein Schnuckelchen,” Owen whispered in his ear.

  “Ich liebe dich, mein Schnuckelchen,” Addison replied. Owen glanced back over to his celebrating teammates, then over to Addison again. He didn’t want to forget a single detail about the moment he agreed to spend the rest of his life with the man he loved.

  ~ABOUT THE AUTHOR~

  Angela, is a twenty-something Registered Nurse and writer living and working in Ottawa, Canada. She is a proud Canadian and an even prouder girl from back east. She thoroughly enjoys writing novels featuring character that live in or are from the Maritimes. She’s recently met Mr. Right and when she’s not occupied with him she can be found hanging out at her local Bridghehead writing. She spends her free time advocating for minorities and persons with disabilities.

  You can visit Angela at:

  www.angelastone.ca

  Accidentally Beautiful

  A 1Night Stand Story

  Deanna Wadsworth

  ~DEDICATION~

  To all of those in my life who listen to my whining and mindless chatter about everything that is the writing biz (even when I keep talking after your eyes glaze over), the ones who call me out when I'm procrastinating, and to the folks who love me enough to love this crazy stuff I write. Thank you!!

  Chapter One

  “Go to the beach, get some sand in your toes, and have too many beers.” Jagger Castillo leaned in to add, “Then find some hot guy to tie you up and screw you senseless.”

  “Sir!” Martin Baird cast an embarrassed glance around the hotel lobby. Since his fair, Scottish skin blushed as easily as a schoolgirl anytime he experienced anger, embarrassment, or arousal, he had to be a shade of red not yet invented.

  The hotel manager laughed. “The island has a way of knowing just what you need, so try to relax and let it take you wherever it will.”

  Why in blazes did everyone keep telling him to relax? He was the picture of laid-back Caribbean style in linen trousers and a pale yellow Tommy Bahamas silk shirt. He didn’t even have on a tie!

  Jagger’s face brightened, and his gaze moved up.

  “Daniel’s behind me, isn’t he, sir?” Martin asked.

  His boss grinned.

  When Martin turned, he came face-to-face with a humongous chest. “Hello, Daniel.”

  The soft-spoken activities director nodded in greeting. “Hello, Martin. I hear you’re leaving soon.”

  Jagger stepped toward his partner, heat and love altering his expression. “Not right away. He’s vacationing before he returns to Canada.”

  “I don’t know how you can live somewhere so cold.” Daniel gave a dramatic shiver.

  “Ya warm-blooded southerners,” Martin teased, allowing a bit of his lilt to escape.

  The others chuckled.

  Martin hadn’t expected his temporary boss to be gay, much less in a domestic partnership, but the three men had developed an ease. Per the usual when discovering a new acquaintance was gay, Martin had breathed easier, realizing he’d be among “family” on this assignment.

  As a rule, he kept his sexual orientation hidden from his coworkers, though they doubtless made assumptions. He wasn’t butch, but that didn’t mean he had to announce himself by wearing rainbow shirts and marching naked in parades like those vulgar Americans in San Francisco.

  “Our special guests have been taken to the airport,” Daniel reported.

  “One limo?” Jagger asked and Daniel nodded.

  “Naturally,” Martin said, and they all exchanged knowing smiles.

  Who knew seven years ago, when he’d become a head concierge for Castillo Resorts—working his way up from front desk—Martin would become responsible for their highest-priority customer, Madame Eve? Her 1Night Stand service specialized in fantasy encounters, and he had been hand-picked to arrange exotic rooms, romantic cottages, and gourmet dinners for her clients per her detailed instructions. Since the Banff property in the Canadian Rockies saw very few of these guests during the winter, he’d been assisting in Grand Turk for a whole month.

  His grin widened with pride. He loved his job.

  Though he’d never met her, Martin had always suspected Madame Eve knew a little more than she should about things. Never once had he seen a disappointed couple. He imagined they all must be soul mates and Madame Eve a supernatural matchmaker. Absurd, really. She basically ran a high-end service for rich people who wanted no-strings-attached sex.

  Lucky bastards.

  Jagger fished a slip of paper from his pocket. “I know you’re supposed to be on vacation, but I have to ask a favor….”

  “Anything, sir.”

  “We’ve created new drinks for the menus. Would you mind ordering some at the lounges while you relax? On the house.”

  Martin laughed. “Not much of a favor, sir. I’m Scottish, remember?”

&
nbsp; “You have no accent,” Daniel observed.

  “Far too distracting. It’s about the guests, not me. If I were ever sent to work at the Scottish property, I would.”

  Not exactly the truth.

  The attention his accent garnered made him uncomfortable. People, especially American women, made such a deal about it. Wearing a kilt in public? That would bloody never happen, either. Flaunting his heritage reminded him of his less-than-perfect childhood, something he preferred to forget.

  If Mother hadn’t died when he was eleven, things might’ve been different. While Da had never been cruel, Martin couldn’t forget the insurmountable distance in those pats on the back when he’d failed—yet again—at some sport Da had signed him up for. Nor could he erase the envy in Da’s face when his childhood best mate won another rugby match. Ian McCallum had been the big, muscular, straight man every father could be proud of.

  “I’d appreciate it.” Jagger held out a list.

  “No bother at all, sir.”

  The couple shared a look then Jagger added, “I hope you find what you’re searching for this evening.”

  The serious tone gave Martin pause. “Um…thank you, sir.”

  His boss studied him for an uncomfortable moment then flashed a grin and made a shooing gesture with his hand. “Now go. Enjoy the island.”

  Martin had to force himself not to follow the two men as they strolled away. A wash of unease hit him at the prospect of spending a week alone in a tropical paradise. What had he been thinking, staying on for a holiday? Taking a deep breath, he tried to find his center.

  Buck up, old chap, you can do this.

  Though he liked to present himself as a man in control, he had to stop letting his dependency upon others rule him. After all, he held a prestigious position at a renowned resort chain, traveling around the world for Castillo Resorts and caring for special customers like the ones Madame Eve sent their way. In reality, this job suited him because it involved doing the two things he did better than anything else. Following orders and waiting on people.