Ten Night Stand

by Mickey Miller

  Ax hands me a wad of ones and winks. “Have fun with me, will ya.”

  I hesitate. A pang of guilt rolls through me, and I feel weird about jumping up on stage with some random guy just to feel on his abs.

  Especially after the night I had with Damien.

  Amelia can sense my hesitation to get up on stage. “I see what you’re thinking, but be like Nike, Kris,” Amelia says.

  “Yeah, like Nike. Just do it.”

  “I don’t know,” I say, gritting my teeth. “Isn’t it kind of wrong to be grinding on some hot stripper guy when I really want to be with someone else?”

  “Stop worrying so much!” Amelia says. “Here, finish your drink and get up there. It’s not a big deal, really.”

  Ax shrugs. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate having someone up there to take the spotlight off him.”

  I glance up at him, and there’s not much of a spotlight, really. It's so dark, in fact, I can’t even make out a single one of his tattoos.

  “You’re worried about your one night stand, aren’t you?” Amelia says over the music.

  I nod.

  “I told you, you need to take things less seriously. You took Nick way too seriously—you did everything for him, and look where you ended up. It’s not like you’re making out with this hottie or anything. It’s just a dance.

  I take a deep breath and shoot one more glance at the sexy-as-hell man in the shadows on the stage.

  “Fine,” I huff, and adrenaline pushes me over the edge as I jump onto stage with the man, my heart jumping up in my throat and beating like crazy.

  The dragon-man is getting low just like the lyrics describe—and I never thought it would be so sexy to watch a man move like that.

  And as I get closer to him I feel my body heating up from the inside out.

  Holy shit, I’m getting turned on.

  As I approach, I can smell him. It’s a subtle, masculine scent, and I swear I recognize it from somewhere.

  My heart beats too fast to think.

  Now on stage, I close my eyes and just let go. I let my instincts take over, and do a move resembling a twerky grind.

  The crowd gets into it, and I’m emboldened. I shake it faster. Harder. The high of the stage hits me.

  Holy crap, this is fun.

  Just then, I feel big, strong hands take hold of my hips, and the flesh of the sexy dragon man presses into me.

  His big, muscled chest touches my back.

  Losing myself in the moment, I let my hair fall over my eyes.

  In another second he takes hold of my body, his large hands gripping my hips. His musk, the way he carries himself, his aura—they feel so damn familiar.

  I can’t think straight enough to process who he might be, though, and I as I grind my ass into his briefs, I feel his hard length between my cheeks.

  Holy shit, the dragon man is huge.

  And he feels...like someone I know. But where?

  It feels wrong to be this turned on in front of an entire room full of people, but I can’t help it. As he pulls me into his hard body, I grind my hips into him as hard as I can.

  I feel his body heating up too.

  The song comes to a crescendo and—I’ll just say it—we’re basically grinding so hard against each other we might as well be fucking.

  I reach my hand behind my back and run my palm along his abs. The rippling muscles are giving me major déjà vu!

  “Fuck,” the dragon man finally makes a noise other than a grunt.

  The blood runs out of my face, because I’d recognize that gravelly voice anywhere.

  The song halts, and I spin around.

  Dragon man takes off his mask.

  It’s freaking Damien.

  I glance at the tattoos covering his body, wondering how even with his trademark big rose tattoo I wasn’t able to recognize him.

  “Holy shit,” he snarls. “It’s you.”

  And I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

  But my heart is beating so hard it wants to jump right out of my chest.

  8

  Damien

  “I can’t see anything in this damn mask,” I explain as Krista looks at me with lusty eyes. I knew this woman had a familiar scent.

  And her body had a familiar feel.

  But I am still having a hell of a time processing the magnitude of this coincidence.

  “Get Low” is over, and the next song picks up—a Ludacris number, making it impossible to talk without yelling.

  Plus, having a conversation on a stage in front of everyone isn’t something I’m interested in.

  She seems equally dumbfounded, her mouth agape and her eyes sparkling as she looks up at me.

  I rest my hand on her hip, and speak into her ear so she can hear me.

  “Follow me.”

  Taking her hand, I guide her to the back of the stage and down the few steps into the back hallway of Midnight Ride.

  Her hand is hot.

  And I’m glistening with sweat from our little performance.

  “I can’t believe Ax put me up to this, and I can’t believe you saw this,” I say as we walk down the hallway.

  She clears her throat. “I’m still trying to process what this is, exactly. In addition to being a landlord, you moonlight as a male stripper?”

  I take a deep breath.

  “No, not exactly. I lost a bet.”

  She furrows her brow. “Lost a bet so you did a dance at Chicago’s premier sex club? What kind of bet are you taking?!”

  I chuckle as we get to one of the rooms at the end. It’s unoccupied, and I open the door and nod to Krista.

  It’s a biggish corner room with couches on either side, and dim purple-pinkish lighting, a big bottle of unopened champagne sitting on the table in the middle.

  “You’re going to give me a private dance?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

  I smirk. “Honestly I was just thinking this would be the best place for us to talk for a moment.”

  “That’s what you want to do in here? Just talk?”

  Just then, she gets up on her tippy toes, breathes into my ear, and nibbles at my lower lobe. Her hand runs over my abs.

  I wrap a fistful of her hair, gently pull her head back, and kiss her hard against the door as we cross the threshold into the private room.

  “I want to talk,” I say. “But I also want to do this.”

  I run my hand from her shoulders down her back, land it on her ass and palm the big, curvy thing, pulling her hips into me.

  A throaty moan escapes her lips. “Damien. Damn I’m so turned on right now.”

  “Are you?” I ask with a smirk. “It’s hard to tell.”

  I interlock my fingers with hers and push her body into the wall, holding her hands above her head as her body beckons me to kiss her.

  I obey the call, pressing my lips into hers as she explores my mouth with her tongue.

  Her skin is flushed and hot to the touch.

  I lay a chain of kisses down her jawline to her neck. I can feel her trembling.

  Shaking.

  “Damien,” she whispers my name again. “Oh God, Damien.”

  “What?” I smirk, our faces inches from each other in the dim light of the private room.

  “You haven’t explained yet. Are you a male stripper? How did you learn to dance like that?” She breathes desperately, her tone laced with desire.

  I shrug. I don’t want to get into the whole song and dance about my past right now.

  I want her.

  “It’s really nothing,” I say, shrugging it off.

  I return to her neck and trail kisses down her sizeable cleavage, pulling the top of her dress down slightly to reveal her skin.

  “It’s not nothing,” she whispers as she threads her fingers through my hair. “It’s just...oh God. I love when you do that.”

  Fondling her tits through her shirt, I press my warm mouth onto her upper breasts, licking her skin.

  “B
ut Damien. I’ve been thinking…” Her sentence trails off in a soft moan. I’m ravenous for her, and I don’t want to talk right now.

  I want to taste her sweet pussy.

  “Wait,” she breathes again, and I manage to peel my lips from her delicious skin.

  I clear my throat. “You okay?” I arch an eyebrow her way.

  “I’m fine, yeah. Can we sit down for a minute?”

  “Yeah, of course,” I growl.

  We sit, and I rest my hand on her leg.

  “Something’s on your mind. Tell me about it.”

  She takes a deep breath, lowering her eyes. “We’re moving really fast,” she says. “And I’m trying to process what all this means.”

  I shrug. “It means we’re super attracted to each other. Which is normal, right? I mean you’re hot as fuck.”

  “Well obviously,” she giggles, and steals a glance of my still-massive erection, the outline of which is easily visible through my briefs. She licks her lips, and I harden even more—if that’s possible—thinking about how her pouty lips would make me feel if they were wrapped around my cock.

  She wants to talk, Damien. Stop thinking about it.

  “But sure, this has been a quick twenty-four hours, you’re right.”

  She takes a deep, yoga breath, and blows the air out. “I’m just going to say it. I’m not a big one night stand girl. And the sexual attraction part of whatever this is isn’t a problem. But one of my girlfriends said it’s a red flag, and that I should watch out for you.”

  I nod, slowly, processing this information.

  I think back to the conversation I had with Axel about red flags earlier today, and how he said I better watch out for a girl with such a crazy ex.

  “So I’m a red flag,” I say as I caress her thigh.

  “Yes. And this whole male stripper thing has me thinking. Is this just like...something you do a lot? Have one night stands with girls?”

  I shake my head vigorously. “One night stands aren’t my thing, either. But you drive me crazy, Krista. I mean shit, this is what you do to me. Do you understand that?”

  “What do I do to you?” she asks.

  I bite my lower lip, take her hand, and place it on my big, hard cock.

  “Oh wow,” she swallows. “That’s what you meant.”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re so hard right now,” she says as she rubs me through my briefs.

  “I’m hard for you.”

  “I’m so horny for you right now, too. But…”

  She withdraws her hand, and I can tell she’s conflicted about something right now.

  “You’re thinking a lot,” I say, watching as she darts her eyes back and forth around the room.

  “I am.”

  I want to fuck her so bad right now. I want to take her. But she’s hesitant for some reason—and I need to make sure she’s completely comfortable.

  “I don’t know what this is, either,” I add. “I’m crazy attracted to you, Krista. Could something more come out of this? Sure, maybe. But we shouldn’t get ahead of ourselves.”

  “We kinda already did get ahead of ourselves last night though,” she points out.

  “And one night stands don’t turn into relationships,” I elaborate.

  She nods.

  I lean back on the couch, and think for a moment. An insight comes to me in a flash. It’s a little crazy, but then again, so am I. “I have an idea,” I say.

  “I’m all ears.”

  “What if we take sex off the table?” I say.

  She nods. “I’m listening.”

  “Well, you’re worried about us being a one night stand. What if, for now, we agree not to have sex, and play some catch up on getting to know each other.”

  Her eyes widen. “I’m still a little confused.”

  “Ten dates,” I blurt out. “No sex for ten dates. I will wine you and dine you until you’re not a one night stand—you’re a ten night stand. Then we can decide what’s best for us.”

  As I say the words, part of me can’t believe I’m being so patient.

  But for a girl like Krista, I can wait.

  I run my eyes over her curvy body. Those luscious tits I was just kissing. I lick my lips.

  “You sure you can wait ten dates for another go round?” she asks, probably because she sees the need in my eyes.

  “Yeah, for sure,” I say. “Pay no mind to the giant boner in my briefs right now. I’ve got this completely under control.”

  “Do you?” she asks, moving her hand dangerously close to my cock, and rubbing my leg.

  I put my arm around her and pull her into me for a kiss, and she laughs.

  “Oh yeah,” I say. “I’m going to give you the full Dazzling Damien Experience. Do you work tomorrow?”

  “Yes. I’m off Saturday, though.”

  “Perfect. Saturday will be the first foray into this.”

  “I can’t wait for the full Dazzling Damien Experience.”

  My cock twitches a little bit at the way she says those words. And how those sexy lips move. I lean into her and kiss her again.

  Ten dates without sex?

  I’ve done a lot of hard things in my life, but something tells me this is going to be hard as hell.

  9

  Krista

  When I wake up late on Saturday morning, my heart is pounding from a sex dream-nightmare I had.

  In the dream, I’m in the future, ten dates from now with Damien. We’re finally about to go all the way again. Turns out, the upstairs attic of the apartment is a mysterious room—and he finally wants to show me what’s inside.

  Impatient, we make out against the door. I feel his hard body against mine, and slide my hand over his length, begging him to tell me what is behind the door.

  He stares at me with glittery, dark eyes, and finally relents, pulling out the key.

  I’m filled with curiosity, wondering what’s behind Damien’s door. A secret sex dungeon? A trophy room?

  I’m so turned on in the dream, I want nothing more then to be with him. And I know, I just know, that room is the place we’re meant to be together.

  He opens the door, but there’s nothing inside. “I don’t understand,” I say.

  My stomach churns—something isn’t right.

  Just then, Nick appears in the room with a big, malevolent smile on his face.

  “What? You thought you and Damien could actually *be* something?” he laughs evilly. “Honey, you don’t get to be something with a one night stand. Damien knows all your secrets. And you're not forgiven.”

  I take a few deep breaths, so thankful it was only a dream, vivid as the experience was.

  I check my clock, and it’s almost eleven.

  Damien’s picking me up at two for our first date—and he refused to tell me where we would go. All he told me was “dress comfortably.”

  I have no idea what to make of that. Are we going hiking? Just going for a walk or something? Is a “work out” date a thing?

  I swallow, and my pulse quickens as I think about how hot it was having his body pressed up against mine on the stage. Not to mention in the private room. I wanted so badly to go all the way with him again, to melt to his touch and let him take me away to pleasure island—but now Amelia has me second guessing everything with this damn “Curse of the one night stand” theory.

  I’m impressed at Damien’s ability to read me. Sure, my body wanted him so badly in the champagne room, but on some subconscious level I wasn’t ready to escalate again so quickly. I need time to process what all of this means.

  As I’m getting ready, my phone buzzes, and my stomach feels queasy just like in my dream when I see who it is.

  Nick: Hey what are you up to today?

  Krista: Please stop texting me

  Nick: If you didn’t want me to text you, you would block my number

  Frustrated, I squeeze my phone.

  Krista: I didn’t think I need to take it to the blocking level, but I just m
ight

  Nick: Just tell me what you’re up to. I want to hang out

  I let out a frustrated breath, flashing back to the main problem of our relationship—Nick’s selfishness. It was always “I want to do this,” not, “This will make you happy.”

  Not that I expect a man to make me happy twenty-four seven. But Nick’s nonchalant, last second attitude continuously rubbed me the wrong way. Perturbed, I do something I maybe shouldn’t do. But I do it anyway. I tell him what I’m up to.

  Krista: I can’t do anything anyway. I have a date today

  I see the three little dots come up, disappear, and then come up again for at least a minute. Finally his text comes through.

  Nick: its with that plumber isn’t it?

  Immediately, I regret telling him about my date.

  Krista: Doesn’t matter. I just want to be one hundred percent honest with you

  Nick: what do you think, I’m some kind of idiot? I might not be the smartest guy, but I saw the way you touched him. I know he wasn’t your plumber

  Krista: Please leave me alone, Nick. I’m not having this conversation

  Nick: Damien Davenport. He’s your landlord

  Krista: Just stop

  Nick: What, you don’t think I’m smart? You don’t think I can use Google?

  Krista: I’m going to have to block you

  Nick: I wouldn’t do that if I were you

  My insides quiver, and I can feel my anxiety going through the roof. Fuck this.

  I turn my phone off, toss it onto the counter, and get ready for my date with Damien.

  I take care of some things around the house, and get dressed, settling on jeans, boots with a low heel that I’ll be able to move around in, and a grey scoop neck.

  Right at two I hear a knock on my door.

  “Hey Miss. It’s me, the plumber. I heard you’ve got a leak. Mind if I come in and take a look at it?” I giggle and shake my head. It’s Damien, but he’s changed his voice so it’s a little bit lower, but it’s still obviously him.