by Anne Mercier
“I’ve never tried to wear high heels, but I can imagine they would not be pleasant for your feet. I prefer wearing dress shoes to sneakers; I like to be put together and sneakers, outside of the gym, feel sloppy.” He took another sip of his drink. I watched him swallow and took a shaky breath.
“I believe it’s your turn.” He was watching me, again. The look in his eyes was unnerving, like he wanted to consume me whole.
“What do you want to know?” I fidgeted in my seat.
“Are you single?”
“I thought we weren’t getting personal?”
“So, don't answer then,” he challenged, an amused twinkle in his eyes.
“Yes, I’m single. Are you?” I hadn’t meant to answer, but he seemed to be able to illicit a lot of things from me I didn’t mean to do.
He smirked. “Yes.”
We chatted for another hour before I reached my patience limit. He apparently had, too.
“Let’s get out of here.” His hand was at the small of my back, scooting me off my stool.
“I need to find my sister and tell her I’m leaving.” I scanned the bar for Faith. She was still with the guy she found at the beginning of the night. She was perched on his lap, her arms wrapped around him.
Logan and I walked toward her and, once we made eye contact, I nodded toward the door and held up my hand in a wave. Faith winked at me and made the ‘call me’ hand motion.
Once we were outside, the reality of the situation hit me. Was I really going to sleep with a man I barely knew? That was Faith, not me.
As if he read my mind, Logan spoke up. “We don't have to do anything you don’t want to do, Grace. Come with me to my hotel; we can order room service and watch a movie or something.”
I hesitated. This was getting real, not just a conversation in a bar with a sexy stranger.
He grabbed my hand and pressed my fingers to his lips. “Say you’ll come?” he whispered against my skin.
“Why me?” I needed to know. I needed to hear that it was because he was feeling what I was feeling and not just because he was looking for an easy lay.
“Why not you? You’re attractive, I’m attractive. I want you, and I can tell that you want me, too.” He stepped closer.
I nodded. “I’ll come.”
He grinned again and kissed my cheek. “Come on, my driver is just down here.” He held my hand on his arm and we walked together to the sleek black town car idling on the street in front of the bar.
We drove to his hotel in silence, my heart racing as I sat close to Logan, my leg pressed against his. The heat of him against my thigh made my pulse race. I was lost in thought, wondering if this was the right decision—at war with myself. Almost all of me wanted to be in the car with him, but there was a teeny part that screamed for me to see that this was crazy. I hadn’t even told Faith his name, or where we were going. What if he was a serial killer and I ended up chopped into little pieces and stuffed in the mini fridge? I gave myself a mental shake, these were not the thoughts I needed to be having.
“Grace? Are you coming?” He was standing outside the car, his navy slacks and white shirt looked impeccable, even after sitting in the bar and then the car.
When had the car stopped? “Yeah.” I slid across the seat and took his hand, letting him help me out of the car. I didn’t notice the name of the hotel until we walked through the lobby where Waldorf Astoria was written on everything.
When we got into the elevator, Logan pulled out his key card and slipped it into the slot.
“You don’t have to push a floor button?” I was clearly not used to ritzy hotels.
Logan shook his head, a smile on his lips. “No, no buttons.” The tone of his voice curled around my ears like silk. He was smooth, too good at this. I was out of my league.
He erased the space between us and backed me against the wall of the elevator. His lips were on mine before I could think. His hands came up to fist in my hair and he pulled me closer into him. He let out a groan as my tongue licked at his lower lip.
The elevator opened and we stepped apart, both breathing heavy. I gasped as we stepped into the room. This was too much. I put a hand on the wall, hoping to steady myself, but it didn’t work.
“Just how rich are you?” I looked around the room in wonder.
“That’s a relative term.” His eyes never left mine. Not a hint of embarrassment. This was a man who was proud of what he had accomplished.
I frowned. “I think I’m going to go with very rich.”
“That’s a fair assessment.” He stepped toward me.
I held up a hand. “Hold up a second. I need to get my bearings, here.” I needed to catch my breath before he got me out of my dress and on my back. Not that it would be horrible for that to happen, but I wanted to slow this train down.
He walked forward anyway, and kissed me softly. “I told you before, Grace, nothing happens unless you say it does. It doesn’t have to go further than kissing, although I hope it does. I can only imagine how your body looks under that dress.” He bit his lip and looked me over, hungrily.
“Are you on the pill?”
I nodded.
“Good. I’m clean. I assume you are as well?”
I nodded again, my voice had decided to leave me all alone in this line of questioning.
There was that predatory look again, it did something to my stomach when he looked at me like that.
“Where’s the bathroom?” I squeaked.
He pointed in the general direction and I fled to safety behind a locked door. I leaned my back against it taking a few cleansing breaths. My hands shook as I turned the water on so I could splash some on my face. Holy hell, what had I gotten myself into? My last sexual encounter had been months ago, another failed relationship under my belt. One-night stands weren’t my thing. I looked at myself in the mirror, my nervousness evident by the anxious look in my eyes.
“You can do this, Grace. It’s just sex,” I said aloud as I straightened my dress. I blew out a breath and went out into the lion’s den to find Logan.
He was standing in the living room area of the huge penthouse. He had taken off his jacket and tie and now stood before me with a half unbuttoned shirt and bare feet. I tried my hardest not to drool, but he had the body of a god. All hard lines and rippling muscles, I just wanted to stroke him.
“Are you comfortable in that?” He gestured to my tight dress and sky high heels.
“Not really; but it’s not like I packed a change of clothes in this.” I held up the teeny little clutch that barely fit a cell phone and lipstick but looked so cute with my dress.
“You can wear one of my shirts, if you want.” He stepped toward me.
“Okay.” I couldn’t make myself say more, my mouth was suddenly as dry as the
Sahara.
“Come on.” He walked ahead of me into the biggest bedroom I had ever seen. There was a chandelier over the bed, a chandelier! Who has that in their hotel room?
“Pick what you want from the drawers.”
I expected him to walk out, but he sat on the bed and watched me. I rummaged through the drawers and found a black tank top undershirt and a pair of boxers that looked like they wouldn’t be too awful on me.
“Let me help you with your dress.” He was right behind me; I could feel his breath on my neck.
He slid the zipper down slowly, kissing the skin he exposed as it went down my back. I knew I should tell him to stop, but I couldn’t make myself say the words. I felt my dress hit the ground around my feet and he straightened up behind me. His fingers trailed along the column of my neck raising goosebumps as he went.
“Do you want me to stop?” he whispered in my ear.
I didn’t; far from it. I wanted him, all of him.
“No, don’t stop.” I leaned my head back against him, my voice a hoarse whisper.
He spun me around and trailed his fingers up my sides.
“On the bed.” His voice was thick with need.<
br />
I walked backward until the back of my knees hit the bed falling back. I watched as he unbuttoned his jeans and slipped them off. Mouthwatering, there was no other way to describe him. He was perfect; and I planned on spending a good amount of time licking every perfect inch of him.
His hands were everywhere at once. He knew just where to touch me. I was putty in his experienced hands.
“Tell me what you want,” he demanded.
“Just you, only you.” I was desperate for him. I pulled his mouth down to mine and took what I wanted.
Logan was insatiable; he took me places I had never been, made me feel things I didn't think were possible.
Just when I thought I was done, he pushed for more.
“Oh Kitten, we’re not even close to done.” He grinned wickedly and crushed his mouth against mine.
He angled his hips in a way that hit every sensitive spot at once and I bit my lip to keep from screaming his name. I knew it at that moment, he had just ruined me for anyone else.
Later, we snuggled under the covers and watched a movie.
“I wish you weren’t leaving tomorrow.” I voiced the one thing I swore I wouldn’t.
“I’m starting to regret my choice to be in Paris tomorrow night. If I could delay the trip, I would.” He kissed me.
“Paris, huh? I’ve never been. I’ve never really been anywhere.”
“I like Paris well enough; but Greece, that is one of my favorite places. The islands are breathtaking.” He stroked his hand through my hair.
“Sounds like heaven.” I smiled into his chest.
“It is one of the only places I've ever been where I can just be. Does that make sense?” Something in his tone gave me pause. I wouldn’t call it sad, but it was akin to it.
“Sort of.”
“When you have money, people tend to expect things from you. Your life isn't always your own.” His eyes took on a distant look.
“Sounds kind of lonely.” I scooted closer, touching his cheek.
“What makes you say that?” He looked down at me intently.
“You didn’t mention any family.”
“I assumed family was not a topic we would be discussing.” His lips pressed into a firm line.
“Why? You know I have a sister; hell, you saw her. I have two other sisters, as well.”
“Family is personal; this is just about tonight, right?”
I wanted to tell him no—that it wasn't just about tonight for me, anymore. That I wanted to know him, know everything about him.
“Yeah, just tonight.” It broke my heart into little pieces to say the words.
He opened his mouth to say something, and I willed him to say the words I wanted to hear. They never came. I knew what this was, maybe that’s all I deserved.
We watched three movies and a few infomercials; and before I knew it, the sun was starting to peek through the curtains. We had stayed up all night talking, kissing, and laughing. I stifled a yawn and lay back against him.
“You should sleep,” he whispered.
“No, I’m not tired.” I yawned and stretched like a cat. The last thing I wanted to do was waste the few hours we had left on sleeping. If I only got him for one night, I needed it to last.
“Kitten, you can barely keep your eyes open. Sleep now, I need to jump in the shower. I’ll wake you before I leave.” He kissed me, lingering for a moment against my lips.
I lay back against the pillow and listened to him start the shower in the next room. I debated on whether to sleep or join him. Joining him won out. If I was never going to see him again, I wanted as many memories as I could pack in.
I let his shirt fall to the ground as I stepped into the steamy room.
Logan was already lathering up, I could see him silhouetted in the steamed glass. He was facing away from me when I stepped in behind him, running my hands along the hard muscles of his back.
“You should be sleeping.” I could hear the smile in his voice.
“Do you want me to go?” I trailed kisses across his shoulders.
“I didn’t say that.” He turned around slowly, water cascading down his chest. He took my hands and pulled me against him. Gone were the sweet kisses from before. His lips were hungry and insistent. He was going to devour me, and I was going to let him.
Logan had me pressed against the tile, his hands soaping up every inch of me.
“Are you ready for this, baby?” he growled.
There was nothing slow or gentle this time. It was all about need. The only sounds in the room were the running water and our ragged breathing.
I was wrapped in one of those white courtesy robes, curled up on the bed watching Logan get dressed. He was standing in front of me in just boxers and an undershirt, his suit laid out on the bed next to me.
I couldn’t bear to watch him leave, so I got dressed quickly and stood by the door watching as he buttoned his shirt.
“Don’t go, yet.” He was next to me in a second, his hand on my arm.
“Make me stay then.” My eyes pleaded with him. I needed to be good enough for him. Not just another notch in his belt. I needed a shred of hope, for him to even just ask for my number. Something so I would know we would speak again at some point in the future.
“Grace...don’t.” He pulled me into his arms, squeezing me tightly to him.
I kissed him one last time, pulling myself from his arms and walked out of the room into the waiting elevator. The tears that had been threatening to fall streamed down my face the second the doors closed. I was stupid to let myself dream about a future with a man I had just met. He had been clear from the start, it was only the one night. I was the one who tried to change the rules. My hands shook as I texted Faith. Seeing the words on the screen drove a dagger into my already wounded heart. This has been a mistake.
When the elevator opened, I prayed he would be standing in front of it begging me not to leave. Once again, I was let down. I pulled myself together long enough to hail a cab in front of the hotel; the poor driver didn’t know what to do with me. I could barely get my address out in between sobs. Faith was waiting for me at the curb.
“Oh, honey.” She hugged me, letting me pour out everything I was feeling. “So, he just let you leave?”
“Uh huh,” I replied glumly.
By the time I had finally calmed down enough to tell her everything, we were sitting at our dining room table drinking coffee.
“This is why I don’t do one-night stands. I'm not made for them.” I shook my head.
“You feel too much for them. Your heart is too open. You’re looking for something that you’ll never find in a one-night stand.” She patted my hand.
“Never let me do this, again.”
“Was the sex good at least?”
I laughed. Only Faith would ask me that in the middle of my crying fit. “Soooo good. The man knows his way around the female body. I just wish I knew his last name.
MOVING ON WAS NOT AS easy as it sounded. I tried my hardest to forget about Logan. He was burned into my memory—his touch, the way his lips felt against mine. I could still smell him on the dress I had worn that night. I hadn't been able to bring myself to wash it yet. It hung on a hanger in my closet, a lone reminder of the best night of my life The piece of my heart I would never get back.
“That’s it. Get out of those sweats and stop moping. It’s been a month, Grace,” Faith reminded me, standing in the doorway to my room with her hands on her hips.
“Leave me alone. I don’t care that it’s been a month, I wouldn’t care if it was a year. I’m sad, and I’ll be sad as long as I want to.” I turned away from her, putting my pillow over my face.
“It was a one-night stand, not a relationship. Get over it and move on.” Her tone was gentle, but I could hear the impatience underneath it.
“I know what it was; that doesn’t stop me from feeling the pain.”
“You need to be showered and dressed in an hour, your date will be here to pick yo
u up a little after that.”
I shot up in bed. “What!”
“Your date. I set you up with a friend of a friend. He’s cute, and nice, I think you’ll like him.” Her tone was like fake sugar, sweet with a bad aftertaste.
“Call and cancel it.” I hopped out of bed in search of the phone.
“No,” she refused, looking me square in the eye.
“I’m not going to go, so either call and cancel or go on the date yourself.” My chin jutted out in defiance.
“You’re putting me in a bad spot here.” She popped her hip against the doorjamb and studied me.
“I couldn’t care less, Faith, I didn’t ask to be set up. As far as I’m concerned, you put yourself in this spot not me.” I folded my arms across my chest.
She scowled at me, “Fine, I’ll cancel it, but you need to start living again.” She pointed a finger at me and stamped her foot.
I knew in my heart she was right. Life couldn’t stop because of Logan. “I’m going to Hope’s, I’ll be back later.”
I left the apartment. Faith was irritated, but I couldn’t stand her constant judgment. Only I could decide how to live my life. I didn’t need her to badger me about everything.
Our sister, Hope, was the oldest of the DeLeo children, Faith was next, then me, and finally our younger sister Charity. Hope and I had always gotten along, she understood me better than Faith did. She was also closer to my temperament; Faith and Charity were more outgoing than we were.
We all looked like different versions of the same person, blond hair, and dark eyes inherited from our mother, Love DeLeo.
Faith and I lived in the heart of Chicago, smack dab in the middle of the city. We shared an apartment because neither of us could stand to live alone for longer than a month. The better choice would have been to live with Hope, but she had gotten married a few years back, and her husband frowned upon that idea.
Thirty minutes after I left my place, I was knocking on Hope’s door. John, her husband, opened the door for me. He was handsome, but I never could see him as anything but a brother. Tall and broad shouldered with light blond hair and green eyes. He was a fireman in the city.
“Faith at you again?” He pulled me into a hug.
