One Night Only

by Katherine King

  Looking at Mick, noticing his sunglasses are back on, I inquire, "Where are we going?"

  Smiling eagerly, he replies, "A picnic. Follow me."

  I follow him to a short distance away that is hidden from the walking path. At first I am a little wary, questioning my decision to follow him, someone I don't know, into a hidden area but then I see the picnic set out before us.

  He stops at the edge of the blanket to lay my paperwork down before he glances around for a rock to lay on top of them. I continue to stand, watching, as his movements pull his already tight jeans even tighter. I feel a deep yearning start between my legs as I envision crawling on top of his lean, muscled legs to straddle him.

  I bite my lip.

  As he straightens, he glances back at me and I flush a little. His eyes snap to mine and remain there and I know that he can sense my desire.

  "If you keep looking at me like that we won’t be eating lunch," he warns softly still holding my eyes.

  Breaking eye contact, mentally berating myself to settle down, I reply, "This looks fabulous." I know he knows I meant him more than the picnic.

  I hear him inhale deeply but he decides to let it go as he gestures for me to sit, as he says, "Have a seat."

  I decide on a spot and settle myself as best as I can with my short dress.

  Mick sits across from me and begins retrieving items from the basket he has brought.

  I watch his hands as he lays food before me in containers. His motion causes his sleeves to move upwards and I see the start of more tattoos on his left arm. I find myself oddly wanting to see more.

  I know I do not know this man but I feel myself throwing caution to the wind as I feel, and allow, my desire for him to overtake me.

  "I wasn't sure what you like so I went with a salad, cheese and fruit," he says once he has everything out of the basket.

  I have a feeling he would know exactly what I like, - I admit silently.

  Nodding, I try to get my mind back on the food...and off snacking on him.

  "It looks great," I murmur as I take a plate. I lean forward to take some of the salad but he beats me to it as he grasps the tongs in his hands and starts loading up my plate. I watch his hands again, the cross-tattoo flashing, as I sit wondering what they would feel like against my skin.

  I almost groan.

  Once he has filled both of our plates, he starts with his questions.

  "I think it is time you gave me your name. At least your first?" he asks teasingly.

  Grinning at him, I reply, "Maggie."

  "Hi Maggie. I’m Mick. Nice to meet you," he says as he holds out his hand.

  Deciding to play along, I answer, "Nice to meet you Mick." Extending my hand to his, I am unprepared for the highly erotic sight of his hand in mind, the feel of his slightly rough skin on mine. I have never been so turned on by only touching a man's hand.

  Mick must feel it too as he decides to hold my hand longer than a normal handshake. I watch, not pulling away, as he brings his left hand up to cover the back of my hand and flips it over. He slides his right hand away until it is no longer in the handshake hold. Using his right forefinger to draw circles around the palm of my hand, goosebumps flood me from head to toe.

  Mesmerized, I continue to do nothing but watch and feel his finger tracing...around and around...in my hand.

  I have to force myself to focus on his question as I hear him ask softly, "What is it...Maggie...about you?"

  I swallow thickly.

  Bringing his gaze up to mine, Mick waits.

  I don't know how to respond so instead I bite my lip.

  His eyes move to my lips and he seems fascinated. I feel heat slide through me.

  My breath hitches as I watch him lean forward slowly...very slowly...

  He pauses for a moment before he softly places a kiss on where I had bit my lip. I inhale and taste his breath as it softly blows into my mouth from his exhale. My eyes slide closed involuntarily as I savor his taste.

  I want more.

  But he doesn't give me more. My eyes open and I stare into his. He is watching me, only inches away, with a soft smile of satisfaction on his face.

  "You are beautiful," he whispers and then I feel his free hand come up to trace the outline of my face.

  I feel goosebumps rise on my skin again as his finger touches first, my temple, then slowly slides down over my cheekbone, under my jawline to continue down my neck to trace where my blouse collar prevents him from going further. I feel my nipples tighten and I want to scream at him to tear my blouse off.

  I am shocked back to reality when he moves away from me. I glance around to remind myself that I am in a public park about to let him seduce me.

  He hasn't let go of my hand and my eyes go back to watching him as he glances down at our joined hands, intertwining my fingers with his.

  A grin slides across his face as he jokes, "We are forgetting to eat and I slaved over this all morning."

  My stomach, doing yet another somersault, wouldn't be able to hold any food down. I remain speechless as I absorb all the new, very intense, reactions going through my body.

  I have never been so attracted.

  Swallowing, lightly clearing my throat, I try to join in on his attempt to lighten the mood.

  "You slaved ALL morning on a salad, did you?" I lightly joke back.

  He lifts his head and grinning at me, causing another somersault, he replies softly, "All morning I was anxious to see you."

  I feel my heart trip and then a little piece of it rips away from me to become his.

  "Tell me about yourself, Maggie, so that I can better understand what this hold you have over me is," he murmurs, still grinning.

  I can't help myself as I reach out my free hand to touch his lips. He gently kisses my fingertips as I say honestly, "I would prefer to kiss you again."

  He chuckles as he replies softly, "I would prefer it too but if I kiss you again it won't stop there."

  Heat, so intense, slides through me. He is right. We can't continue. We are in a public park.

  He inhales deeply before continuing, "So, tell me about yourself."

  Reluctantly, I drop my hand but keep my eyes on his lips as I reply, "I am an advertising executive. My office is across the street from here."

  "Are you from New York?" he asks quietly.

  Moving my eyes up to his face I say, "No. I am originally from a small island in Canada."

  I see a moment of surprise before he asks, "No family close by?"

  Shaking my head, I reply, "No. I left home when I graduated high school. I never felt like I belonged in my home town. I wanted a big city life so I could have more career opportunities."

  Smiling at me, he asks, "And did you find what you were looking for?"

  Lowering my eyes back to our joined hands, I confess, "In some ways...not in others..."

  We both remain silent for a few minutes and I move my fingertips, watching as they move in his hand. I have never felt so emotionally and physically connected to anyone.

  "How about you? You are obviously not from New York," taking my turn to ask questions.

  I lift my head to watch him in his reply.

  He grins at me saying, "No, I am not a New Yorker. I come from a small place in New Jersey."

  Smiling back at him, I ask, "Jersey, hey?"

  He grins wider and nods.

  "And what is it that brings you to New York today?" I ask.

  He seems to be searching my face as he replies, "I’m a singer. I have some business to attend to here before I go on the road."

  I feel my heart drop as I realize that his work must take him away from home a lot.

  "Are you in New York a lot?" I ask in a roundabout way of trying to figure out his lifestyle, secretly dreading the answer.

  He shakes his head and I have to drop my eyes from his face to our picnic blanket as I realize that whatever he is looking for from me, it will be only short term.

  My mind spins as I
come to a crossroad of whether to let this go further or end it now. Looking back at him, I feel a pull like no other and I know that if I don't explore this I will always wonder, - What if?

  "Are you a good singer?" I ask teasingly, wanting to keep the atmosphere between us light.

  The grin that spreads over his face causes another piece of my heart to tear away.

  "Some people think so," he responds cheekily.

  "I would love to hear you some time," I say softly, returning his infectious smile.

  Still smiling, he replies, "Someday...but for now you have to eat before I have to walk you back to your office."

  He, unfortunately, releases my hand to pick up his plate and signals to me to eat as well.

  Taking a few bites, only to satisfy him, I watch as he chews. The muscles of his jaw are clearly defined and I wonder what his skin would taste like.

  Shaking my head, I warn myself out of my erotic thoughts.

  Oh, the things I would love to do to his man, - I silently concede to myself despite my own warnings moments ago. I feel a little of my wall crumble. I know I am going to head down a road with this guy where I have no idea how it will turn out. He attracts me, more than anyone, and I want him.

  I want to explore him.

  Mick eats quickly and then shakes his head at me when he realizes I have barely touched my food.

  "Don't tell me you are one of those tiny eaters," he says jokingly.

  Shaking my head, smiling back, I reply, "I have been distracted."

  A broad smile spreads across his face at my reply.

  "Well... I think we should get you back to work," he teases as he starts packing things away. I join in and help him until everything is back in the basket. Standing, I bend to fold the picnic blanket but he stops me saying, "Don't worry about it. I will come back and pick this up."

  "Really?" I ask puzzled. "Someone may take it."

  "Leave it. I want to walk you to your office," he says, grasping my hand again and giving a light tug.

  I don't argue further and I allow him to pull me in the direction of my office.

  Walking next to him I realize how tall he is and I absorb the feeling of having him walk next to me. Despite not being able to see his hair, he is the most attractive man I have ever met.

  Tall and handsome as hell...and with a confidence that exudes from his body and actions...he is the stuff of dreams.

  "Any chance of getting your number?" I hear him ask along the way.

  Chuckling, laying my free hand on his toned forearm, taking extreme pleasure in feeling the lean, defined muscles underneath, my heart tripping and skipping, I reply teasingly, "I guess I can give you my number now."

  He laughs lightly and retrieves his phone from his back pocket, turning it on before handing it to me.

  Moving my hand from his forearm, I take the phone, enter my number, and then hand it back to him.

  Releasing my hand, Mick quickly steps a few feet in front of me, snapping a quick picture of me before I realize what he is doing. When he steps back to me, I lightly tap his arm in jest, saying, "Hey! That was unfair. I never agreed to a picture!"

  Smiling, grasping my hand again, he says, "I needed the picture so I can look at it to stop questioning myself if you are as beautiful as what I remember."

  Flushing at his words, I reply, "Such a smooth talker."

  He stops abruptly, tugging my hand until I am facing him. Dropping my hand, he raises both of his to cup my jawline.

  I can see his eyes behind his sunglasses and the intensity in them probes deep into me as he says quietly, "Maggie, this is not a line. You are beautiful and I am incredibly attracted to you."

  My head feels as if it is floating from the intensity in his eyes, his words.

  His thumb runs over my bottom lip and I wish he would kiss me again. But I am disappointed when I hear him sigh, and then more so, when he removes his hands from my face.

  "If you keep looking at me like that, I am going to drag you into the bushes of Central Park and fuck you," he whispers quietly.

  His words shock me back to reality and I quickly drop my eyes from his.

  Feeling him leaning close, his breath on my ear, causing me to flush again, he says, "Sorry but I always say what is on my mind. And I do want you Maggie. But here is not the place."

  I feel a tremble start throughout my body as I involuntarily react to his words.

  I am also scared at my reaction to him...because if he asked...I would let him take me into the bushes. I seem to have no barriers with him.

  Mick grabs my hand again and I turn to continue to walk next to him. We are both silent the rest of the way to my office building.

  For me...I am busy absorbing and sorting through my feelings and reactions to him.

  Reaching the entrance, I say quietly, as I gently tug him to a stop, "This is it."

  Mick pauses to look up at the sky scraper which holds my office.

  Bringing his gaze back to me, he says quietly, "I'll call you."

  Wanting to ask him for his number but suddenly and unexplainably nervous, I only nod, hoping that he will kiss me again.

  Mick takes a step back from me, squeezes my hand once, before I have to reluctantly let him go.

  The deep disappointment that flows through me takes me by surprise. As he turns to walk away, I open my mouth to ask him when he will call but manage to stop myself before the words have a chance to escape. I don’t want to be that nagging, clingy girl.

  But I have never felt so desperate and it scares the hell out of me.

  Order Undeniable here: http://www.katherineking2001.com/books.html

  **************

  Author’s Note:

  Enjoy this short story? You can make a huge difference in Katherine’s dream to become a full-time writer!

  Reviews are the most powerful way you can help! Being a self-published author, I depend on my readers to help get my writing out there for others to enjoy by spreading the word and a review can help in accomplishing that goal!

  If you enjoyed this short story, I would greatly appreciate another few minutes of your time (make it as short as you want) to leave an honest review at the link below by scrolling until you see “Write Review” and also an area to rate it at:

  Review One Night Only

  I love to hear from my readers! All of your support in reading my work, writing reviews, sending me emails, little notes of encouragement, etc. is greatly appreciated! You can contact me by email at kateking2001@gmail.com, or send me a message via Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/katherinekingauthor or Twitter https://twitter.com/kateking2001

  If you would like my Katherine King Starter Library and have not already signed up for it, please head on over to my website www.katherineking2001.com to sign up. Know of someone who loves to read my genre or writing? Please share my free library with them and send them to my website to sign up.

  Hugs and many, many thanks,

  Katherine

  More by the Author:

  Series:

  Captivated: Stile Before

  Captivated: Stile After

  Short Stories:

  One Night Only

  Breathe Again

  Stand Alone:

  Undeniable

  Unentangled – to be released 2017 Check out the book trailer at http://www.katherineking2001.com/book-trailers.html

  Dedication:

  For Rebecca Fowler, my daughter & greatest accomplishment,

  always my inspiration to accomplish my dreams. Because a mom is the greatest example for a daughter – to follow her own dreams someday.

  Special Thanks:

  To my amazing and very supportive proof-readers who are some of my greatest fans! Debbie Mahon, Kelly Ann Marshall, Colleen Fowler, Janice Fowler and Jane Krahe – the time you took to not only read but to go back and proofread One Night Only. It will never be forgotten. Thank you so very, very much.

  Also, many thanks to my hubby, my biggest fan, w
ho broadcasted to everyone he knew that I was a romance writer while I was still very much afraid to be me.

  Copyright © Katherine King Author

  About The Author

  With her first two books in a two-part series, "Captivated," reaching #1 on Amazon and #2 on iTunes, Katherine King has established herself as an International Best-Selling Romance Author. A mother, wife, dog lover, restauranteur and innkeeper, Katherine wears many hats...but by far her favourite job is being a writer. Sign up for her free starter library at www.katherineking2001.com

  One Night Only is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is of the author’s imagination.

  Copyright © Katherine King – All Rights Reserved

  www.katherineking2001.com

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