by KB Winters
I cocked my head. Chance was obviously the kind of guy who was used to getting his way. There was a silent sense that I could break away if I wanted to. He wasn’t gripping onto me or making me feel forced. If I pulled away, his hands would fall away. But I didn’t want them to. Not at all.
It was just one night.
“One night?”
Chance dragged a hand over my hip and followed the curve up my waist, barely skimming the side of my breast, sending a shiver of anticipation down my spine before placing his fingertips along my jawline. “One night.”
Oh, fuck.
After agreeing to a one-night stand with the handsome stranger, I needed a few more shots of liquid courage to get me out the door. Chance ordered another round of whatever he was drinking and dared me to take a shot of Fireball with him. I eyed the cinnamon contents of my shot glass with a healthy dose of skepticism. Fireball was known to get me into a lot of trouble. Panty-dropping-table-dancing-trouble.
But it was oh so yummy.
“You need a demo, pretty girl?”
I wrinkled my nose at him and then slammed the shot back, somehow managing to keep my face from crumpling at the burst of heat in the back of my throat. I set the glass down a little harder than intended and leveled Chance with a stare.
He grinned widely, then tossed his back without a flinch. “You ready to get the fuck outta here?”
It was now or never. I was reminded of my days in school when our class took a field trip to the local swimming pool for lessons. Agreeing to go home with Chance was a lot like standing at the edge of the diving board, wiggling my toes along the sharp line, peering down into the blue water as I tried waiting out my nerves to make the jump. My stomach flip flopped and my heart slammed around inside my chest at the thought of what I was about to do.
I looked up from the tips of my stiletto heels and signaled to the bartender. “One more.”
Chance chuckled and leaned against the bar. I was perched on the edge of a bar stool, my thighs clenched together to keep from flashing anyone. Although… from the look in his eyes, he was already having plenty of naughty thoughts without catching a peek at my panties. Chance was close enough that my knees brushed against his hip as he waited for the bartender to bring us our second round. His hand slid from the bar and landed on my thigh nearest to the bar. I watched as his fingers slid up my smooth skin, and I bit down on my lower lip to keep from squealing while he inched closer and closer to my hem of my dress. When I looked back up and his eyes locked with mine, all the air in the room vanished.
Without a word, he erased the remaining space between us, his body warmth radiating through me as he hovered closely above my frame. He smelled like he just fell off the pages of a cologne ad. Hell, he looked like it too. The black t-shirt he had on was casual but made of thick, quality fabric that clung to his large, muscled body, making him just as irresistible as if he’d been wearing a tailored suit. A pair of dark wash jeans sat low on his hips and perfectly encased his thick thighs and backside. Damn, he was big. Solid. I’d taken a good, long look when he’d ordered the first round.
Chance’s lips brushed against my ear, his hot whiskey breath smoothing over my skin. “I’m really looking forward to getting you out of this damn dress.”
A shiver swept over me and my mouth went dry. Meanwhile, south of the border, things were very, very wet and ready.
He pulled back before I could sputter out a reply and our drinks arrived. “Cheers, pretty girl.”
I clinked his glass and then we both shot back the contents. As soon as his glass hit the bar, he whipped out his wallet, handed a shiny, black credit card to the waiting bartender. “Let me call us a ride.”
He didn’t seem too far gone, but I appreciated that he was being careful. He punched a message into his phone and finished just in time to sign off on the bill and put away his card.
“Let’s go, pretty girl. We’re running out of moonlight.”
I hopped off the bar stool and swayed a little as the room reoriented itself. Apparently, I’d had a little more to drink than I’d originally thought. How many drinks had I downed? Two with Tien. Or was it three? And two before that. And now… two shots and a drink with Chance.
Holy shit.
Chance wrapped an arm around my waist and I leaned into him. I instantly loved the way his body engulfed mine. Sometimes I felt bulky or too big. I hated my broad shoulders and wide hips. But with Chance, I felt none of that. His size was a comfort that made me feel even sexier than he already had. I glanced up at his profile as we made our way for the exit and smiled to myself. I had no idea what made him pick me out of the crowd, but one thing was for sure if we only had one night, I was gonna make the most of it.
He thought he was going to rock my world. Well, I hadn’t been good and properly fucked by anyone in nearly a year.
He was in for the ride of his life.
4
Lacey
Chance didn’t give me a chance to change my mind as I started to sober up on the drive to his house. He kept his large hand on the small of my back as we left the crowded club. I caught Tien’s eye across the room, and she gave me a mischievous smile and an even naughtier gesture as her signal of approval. Outside, a black luxury SUV was idling at the curb, near the valet booth. A driver rushed around to open the back door and Chance held my hand as I maneuvered the sidestep to get into the back seat.
“Damn, now that’s a view,” he growled as I climbed into the seat, my ass high in the air. “Can’t wait to see the rest.”
I flushed, but secretly his words sent a thrill rushing through me. I couldn’t remember the last time a guy was so into me. Sure, it was superficial as hell, but damn it, it felt good. I battled with myself over my perceived flaws and imperfections daily—sometimes hourly—basis. So it was nice to let all those nasty self-doubts fade to black.
Chance climbed in next to me, his body moving with fluid, almost graceful ease. It struck me as strange that he was such a large man but didn’t move in a way that spoke to his size.
“Back to the house, Alfred,” he said, grinning at the driver in the rear view mirror.
“You seriously have a driver named Alfred?” I asked with a small laugh. “Does that make you Batman?”
“Something like that,” he replied with a wink.
He reached over and helped me buckle into my seat, his fingers skimming my thighs as he dragged the belt over my lap. Every cell in my body flipped to ON, and I didn’t dare take a breath as our eyes met. He moved closer and my heart slid up into my throat. His lips touched mine right as the belt clicked into place and the rest of my world melted away. I could no longer think. I couldn’t see—or hear.
All I could do was feel.
And it felt good!
Chance’s hand cupped my face before sliding around to cradle the back of my neck and tugged me in closer as his tongue slipped between my lips. A gasp caught in the back of my throat, and I felt like I could choke on the lust being exchanged by our tongues. He possessed me in a quiet, commanding way that was entirely too easy to get lost in.
“Fuck, you’re so sweet. I wonder if all of you will taste like candy…” His fingers crawled up the inside of my thigh, leaving no doubt to the meaning of his words. I shuddered as heat and wetness pooled between my thighs along with an insatiable ache that had suddenly taken up residence there.
Looking into Chance’s deep hazel eyes, I knew he’d be able to satisfy that ache.
Without a doubt.
His house wasn’t far and we hurried inside. There was no time wasted with small talk, drinks—or even a tour of the home. We both knew why we were there and what we wanted. There was no need for anything else. Lust and pleasure imploded in a sultry dance filled with messy kisses as we made our way to Chance’s bed. I shed my inhibitions, insecurities, and most of my clothing along the way.
By the time we reached his room, I was stripped to my panties and trembling from head to toe, desperate for C
hance’s hot kisses to travel over every inch of my skin.
“Fuck,” Chance growled. His fingers ran along the elastic band of my thong that was hiding under the tight layer of shapewear, which he’d peeled away like an expert without blinking twice. “Now these are sexy…” he groaned, staring down at the lacy garment.
I smiled up at him as he backed me up against the bed. A soft light filtered in from the hallway and from the large windows on the opposite wall. I felt like a goddess in the center of Chance’s hungry stare. “You should see the rest of my collection,” I teased, licking my lips.
“Oh, I plan to, pretty girl.”
His hands moved up to my hips and he lifted me—as though I weighed nothing—to the edge of the bed. If I spread my legs, he’d be at the perfect height to enter me. That tidbit got me even wetter and I quivered, waiting to see what he would do next. Chance stripped down to his black boxer briefs, and his hard-on was evident, making me twitch with anticipation. Let’s just say my jack rabbit had nothing on the reality of this man’s cock.
He moved his fingers up the insides of my thighs and when they bumped against the fabric, he slipped underneath. I arched back, gasping at the sudden jolt of pleasure as his fingers ran over my bare skin. Thank God I’d kept up with my bikini waxes. He groaned as he slipped a finger inside me. “Shit, I was gonna try to take my time, but I don’t know if I can wait much longer.”
I reached for him and wrapped my hand around his shaft, over his cotton briefs. He made a surprised sound at my boldness and I smirked up at him. “What if I said I didn’t want to wait either?”
His eyes went wide before he closed them and dropped down to kiss me fiercely; there was no more need for words. Chance pulled away to quickly strip off his briefs, and after slipping on a condom, he moved my panties to the side and buried himself inside of me with one deep thrust. He was too much. Too overwhelming. I was instantly a goner. The room around us spun away and the only thing I could see was his body moving with mine, and I kept myself anchored by the look in his eyes as they gleamed with lust and heat in the low light of the room. We rose and fell together. I was lost in him—in us—and every single move we made. Hours of pleasure passed and when I finally collapsed beside him–breathless and still somewhat dazed—my eyes fluttered closed.
A strange sound woke me from my sleep. My eyes popped open, and I rolled over to find the source. With a silent gasp, the past hours flooded back to me, and I pressed my eyes shut again. The strange sound was Chance’s soft snoring. The bedroom was dark, apparently swathed in some kind of black out curtains, but I could make out his form in the soft glow from the alarm clock that projected the digital readout on the ceiling above the bed.
4:52.
God, help me. My head pounded from either too much alcohol or lack of sleep. I untangled myself from the sheets with slow, careful movements until I was freed. As I tiptoed toward the door, I rewound the events of the night before and realized that my clothing had been tossed before we got to the bedroom. I cringed at my boldness. The door opened without a creak, and I glanced back at Chance’s hulk of a sleeping body before I slipped out.
I found my clothing, dressing as I located each piece, and by the time I found my little clutch purse, I was dressed and ready to make a mad dash escape from the sprawling house. I paused to look around. What the hell did Chance do? The place was a freaking mansion.
I shook my sore head, ignoring the flurry of questions. It didn’t matter who he was. What his last name was. Or what he did to afford such a beautiful estate.
All that mattered was getting out of here before he woke up and we had to do the whole awkward, hey-thanks-for-the-bang-had-a-great-time-call-ya-never thing.
When I was sure I had everything I’d brought, I found the front door. I marveled at the marble floors, soaring ceilings, and grand staircase as I made my way outside. Before I even reached the gated entrance to the property, I’d called an Uber and fumbled to find the home’s address. I didn’t know what street or even what part of the city I was in. But as I neared the end of the driveway, I spotted the address displayed on the side of the black box near the gate. I rattled it off to the dispatcher and was told someone would collect me in twenty minutes.
I slipped the phone back into my clutch and then turned back around to look at the house. The previously ignored questions came rushing back to the surface again. The house was stunning, even in the dark. Exterior lights illuminated the front of the house and the sides of the driveway. It had to be at least three times the size of my parents’ home in Denver, which would put it clocking in at around six thousand square feet. Why on earth would someone need that big of a house all to themselves? A sick thought hit me in the gut. Was Chance married? Was I just a weekend fling while his wife was off on a girls’ weekend or business trip?
I shoved aside the disgusting thought and the steamy night we’d shared. It was a one-night thing. Done. Over. If he was married, that was his problem to deal with. Not mine. I had no idea and therefore could not be called a homewrecker. Right?
I balled my fists together and kneaded them against my forehead. “What were you thinking, Lace? What the hell made your brain short-circuit like that?”
Oh, right… alcohol. Hell, it hadn’t just short-circuited. The entire thing was some kind of meltdown.
Before I could sink too deeply into self-loathing, the Uber arrived and I scrambled into the backseat, not daring to look up at Chance’s house one last time, afraid I’d see him watching me from the window. Not that he’d care. Hell, a guy like that would probably be happy to see me on my way instead of having to come up with a strategy to get me out of his bed.
It was one night and now it was over. I had the aches and pains to prove it.
I spent the rest of my time off of work doing penance by cleaning my entire apartment. I rented a two bedroom in a nicer part of town. The apartments in my building were less than five years old and built above retail spaces. Underneath my apartment sat a small florist shop. Sometimes on a Friday, I liked to pop in and get myself a colorful bouquet to brighten up my life a bit. In the same strip of shops, there was also a coffee shop, a Chinese restaurant, dry cleaners, and an eye doctor.
By Monday morning, my small apartment was sparkling clean and I’d nearly forgiven myself for being so impulsive. Tien was floored that I’d gotten some action, especially with such a worthy candidate. I just felt sick about all the ways it could have gone wrong.
And if I wasn’t obsessing about how big of a mistake it was—I remembered the way Chance’s hands felt on my skin and the way he’d filled me so completely that it eclipsed all other experiences I’d ever had.
Let’s just say my jack rabbit vibrator needed a new set of batteries.
But as I pushed through the doors of the non-profit youth center I worked at, I shoved it all aside and focused on what really mattered the most—taking care of my girls.
As the center’s lead activities director, it was my job to take care of many at-risk girls ranging in ages from six to fourteen. Most of them were in the foster care system and came to the center for free tutoring, day camp after school, or to take classes and workshops hosted by outside organizations. Mostly, it was my job to keep the girls safe and make sure they had a haven away from the roughness that often filled their homes.
“Morning, Lacey,” Missy, the center’s director and my immediate boss, chirped as I approached my office.
“Good morning, Missy.”
She wore a pencil skirt suit and a determined expression. Something was up.
I paused at the door to my office. “Everything all right?” My stomach clenched, fearing she was about to tell me that one of my girls had been in a fight or removed from their foster home. It happened all the time. I sometimes said that my job was half activity director, half bouncer. I’d had to break up fights, take away weapons, and confiscate drugs on more than a handful of occasions.
Missy sighed. “Yes and no. Listen, Lacey, I kn
ow what I’m about to dump onto your plate isn’t going to be a welcome addition, but you’re the only one that has the time to take on the project.”
“Okaaay.”
“We have a court-mandated volunteer coming in for the next five weeks to work off a community service sentence. I just need you to come up with things to keep him busy around here. Have him paint, fix the water fountain, reorganize the library. It doesn’t matter to me. All I need is someone to keep tabs on him and make sure he’s putting in his time. Can you do that for me?”
“Sure,” I replied, shrugging my shoulders. I’d been expecting something far more dramatic. A volunteer wasn’t a problem. “Who is he?”
Missy flapped a hand dismissively. “Some pro football player. He got into a bar fight and the judge sent him here to work it off. It’s a PR nightmare. My inbox is full of requests to come and feature the center and come take footage of him at work. It’s going to be my full-time job to keep the horde of paparazzi out of here!”
I frowned. “Yikes. Sounds like a mess. Well, you can count on me. I’ll keep him busy and out of your hair.”
Missy heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Lacey. You’re such an angel!”
She patted my shoulder and then strutted back to her small corner office at the other end of the large activities space where several large, round tables served as places for the kids to do crafts, painting and reading when they arrived. The center also housed a huge gym with basketball hoops and other sports equipment. There was a playground outside, all fenced in, with dodgeballs and jump ropes for the younger kids to play with.
I stared after Missy for another moment. Hopefully, this football player wouldn’t be too much of a pain in the ass. Five weeks was a long time to try and hold off the press. Although, if it were me, I’d use the exposure to try and organize a fund raiser or something. I let the idea percolate in the back of my mind as I unlocked my office door and went to my desk to begin my daily routine of checking emails, voice messages, and any paperwork left in the drop box.
