by Janai
Jennifer Willows
One Night Stand
This is a disclaimer… pretty standard… this book is not about you or anybody you know, any brands listed are their own and are not being advertised. Please don’t give this book to any other persons… it’s not a cold, don’t share the file please… the FBI looks down on that sort of thing… I wrote this work on my own, this is my intellectual property and it is self-edited. And yes, I am the “cover artist” as well. Please do not use any portion of this novel from the cover to the last page without prior permission from the author unless the quote is in reference to a review of the story. So with that being said, all errors are my own and I can’t blame anyone but myself for any and all mistakes. There are numerous erotic elements in this story, so please don’t be offended if you choose to read any further than this page. If you are under the age of consent wherever you are, please read something else for now and not this book until you are legally able to do so. I am not responsible if you try anything I depict in any of my stories this one included. With that said, enjoy and happy reading!
Jennifer Willows
This one is for Debbie J
You always make sure that I have a good day and a good laugh.
Taylor is moving and she had one more night to live it up at her old stomping grounds before she heads for another pasture. But during the festivities, she meets a man who is in town on business and he is far from her usual type.
He turns her on like no other man has ever before.
Chandler is in town for work only. He’s not looking for a relationship or for sex either. He really doesn’t have the time for extracurricular activities. But on a whim, he decides to go to a local club and have a drink. The woman there enthralled him on sight. There was something about her that he couldn’t deny himself.
Can something that started as a one night stand become something more? Or will they be two ships passing in the night? Neither of them knows for certain, but both are game for a…
One Night Stand.
Warning: This story does have a HFN (happy for now), but no HEA (happily ever after).
Taylor: Last Night on the Town
Taylor Thomas was finally ready. It had only taken her an entire month to pack up her house, but she had finally set the last labeled box by the front door last night. The moving company would be by in the morning to pick up her belongings, and she worked extra hard as she wanted to be a hundred percent done when they showed up. The house was still hers, at least for the next week and then new owners would move into the home that she had made so many memories within.
When she lay down for her last night home, the room was empty, and she slept on her sofa since her bed was deconstructed. For the last week, she had only been living with the bare essentials. She had a single clothes basket that she used for the last days she would be in her townhouse and she had travel bottles of things for her basic toiletries and hygienic niceties. Even her kitchenware had been packed and she ate take-out for most of her meals aside from her morning cereal.
But tomorrow was going to be her last hurrah before she made tracks to her new position in Charlotte, North Carolina. She was only moving a few hours away, but she didn’t think that she would be able to come back to Virginia Beach anytime soon.
Her company, JuneBugs Co., merged with MacMillan Clothiers just a few months ago and the transition was far from complete. She was going to have her hands full with work for the foreseeable future and she knew that she was far from vacation time at this point. The new company kept very few of her fellow coworkers and she knew that she was lucky to be groomed to replace the old district level manager housed in Charlotte-Meck for the south-east district.
At least Taylor didn’t have to shoulder the burden of moving expenses on her own. The company was able to offer her a generous relocation package and they partially subsidized her new condo purchase as well. Her only sticking point was the fact that she had to sign a contract with her company for five years of employment. Not that the job security was a bad thing, she just hated the idea of being indentured to anything for that length of time.
Taylor couldn’t hold down a man for five years, let alone a job. She got bored way too easily. But for the amount of money she was being offered, she would be willing to put up with a lot. Even if she did feel like Toby from the Roots saga after she signed her name on the dotted line.
She slept fitfully that night, and she had a wet dream that left her disgusted since she had packed her vibrator along with her massaging showerhead already. But the day seemed better with a cup of coffee. The movers were earlier than planned and since she was prepared, that worked just fine with her. After the men loaded up the mass of her worldly possessions and pulled from her driveway to make the five hour trip to her new place, all she had left was a hamper with her clothes to drive down with tomorrow.
She didn’t even have her makeup, much to her dismay. Somehow she felt less than dressed when she was barefaced in the world, but there was no choice.
The phone rang just as she finished cleaning her bathtub for the last time and Taylor was sure it was her best friend, Kayla. Kayla had planned to come by around noon after she left work for some much needed last minute girl time before the going away party tonight. And from the state of her closet, she needed the time desperately. She didn’t even have an outfit to wear, let alone all of the crap she needed to make herself bombshell Betty.
“You ready chicka?” Kayla called out loudly enough that she could hear her outside even without the phone propped awkwardly on her shoulder.
“Heck yeah, I’m about to go crazy with only these blank four walls to keep me company.”
“Come on outside then.”
Taylor got in the car and they were off to the mall. They made the decision to go to Nordstrom first, as they could have lunch on the third floor after she bought something to wear. But first was a visit to the make up at the MAC counter on the first level. Everything after those basic plans was up for grabs, and they would go where the onus took them until ten thirty when she would go to the club. After drinking themselves into a stupor, she planned on crashing on Kayla’s couch for the night and she could leave after she woke the next morning.
The shopping was wonderful as always, it never hurt to put a few items on the plastic, so long as she paid the card off the next month. But she ended up breaking the bank on the shoes she couldn’t resist, and the outfit that would perfectly complement it.
The purchases were well worth the money she spent, she was going to be casket sharp tonight as her mom liked to call it. The makeup was a good idea, as the old colors were out of season anyway, so she didn’t groan too much at the four hundred dollars she spent at the counter. It was money she would have spent in either event. But the problem came in when she realized that she was going to wear the perfect outfit with an eighteen hour bra and granny panties.
She went to a boutique and once again, her plastic card screamed for mercy. But she couldn’t resist the sexy brassier and panty set. Then when she saw the silk stocking and garters, she had to have those too. Not to mention a cute peignoir and robe.
By the time her binge shopping was over, she had spent a few grand and almost three times her budget. She made herself feel better about the mound of debt she just took for silk and leather with salmon cakes and the delectable peach ginger tea on the third floor. The live piano music was a perfect complement to the day and she smiled.
Fuck it, she thought. I deserve a little fun, as it’s going to be all work and no play for Taylor from here on out. And I won’t have the time to spend all of the money I’m making anyway.
That night, she and Kayla dressed while listening to Al Green and the pair shucked and jived across the expanse of Kayla’s
house. They used their powder brushes as microphones and sang along until it was time to go downtown. The traffic was horrendous and the taxi had to take a detour to get them to Club Seven. It was a popular spot and the stairwell was the worst ever with seven flights in her six inch platform heels.
But this was her party and she didn’t want to be tardy, just a bit fashionable with her entrance. Half of her friends from work were there, and she was sure that she could get in a few dances and double the drinks.
“Hey Taylor!” A group of her co-workers stood off to one side, some were seated, others were standing and grooving to the rock band that piped in through the speakers.
“Hey everybody.” She gave hugs left and right until she was surrounded by a gang of bodies and clashing perfumes.
After she gave the obligatory grin and cracked a few jokes, Taylor slipped away before she got too lightheaded from the assaulting aromas of over applied Arden and even the old-school scent of Curve teased her nostrils. If she could slip to the other side of the bar she was home free and did so quickly by finessing her body in between five patrons with a bob of hips to the left then sideways. Her feet already felt the burn of the extra inch she didn’t usually opt for when shoe shopping.
But she was free. There was a railing around the edge of the bar and she smiled as she leaned over the metal. The air was refreshing and cleaner than the oxygen at street level. She could see portions of the water from here along with the not so welcome sight of the tunnel out of town. She would be on that same stretch of road in the morning, leaving everything and everyone she knew for a town she had barely seen once. Not to mention she was petrified. She was a Virginia girl through and through, and had been for her whole life. She even went to college here and she was a proud alum of Old Dominion University.
Taylor shook her head and let the soft fall of her locks brush her arms with the wind. She took a sip of her Incredible Hulk, whatever that was. She felt the hairs along the backside of her body rise up and she shivered. What was that? It was normally far from cool at this time of year and tonight nature was charitable enough to grant mild, but still warm weather.
Then she heard a man’s voice behind her. “Excuse me, are you alright?” His voice was the rich darkness of espresso mixed with a faint hint of accent. He sounded like Barry White took a dive bomb into some British town whose name ended with the word shire.
Turn around, her body clamored. Don’t, her brain cried out. But when she tried to give her body what it wanted, he had neatly boxed her into the little corner of railing. His frame didn’t press against hers, but it was a near thing. When she backed up, she felt the stiff length of his body and she jerked forward again. Her drink sloshed and the sticky wetness splashed her toes. Damn it! These are three hundred dollars down the drain, she thought angrily.
“I’m fine thank you.” She could hear the ire in her own voice and she looked back out at the water. Maybe it was for the best if she didn’t see him as she would most likely be disappointed. He probably looked like a cretin Quasimodo or something anyway, she told herself even though for some reason what he looked like mattered little. She just had to know.
He seemed to understand her distress, and backed up the slightest bit, just enough that the hairs along her spine lowered half-way. But she could feel the current between them. The arc of energy connected them in a visceral way and she hadn’t even seen his face yet. She wasn’t sure how, but she knew that he was hers. Unless he had a ring on his finger, that is.
But when she was finally able to shuffle her feet to turn and see his face she was stupefied. He was far from what she expected. His voice was deep and decadent, and she expected him to look the same way, maybe a tall brother with a slick Caesar haircut and chocolate skin. The man in front of her was rugged and far from Afro-American. Actually he was so far to the other side that she knew the only blacks in his family tree were Smiths.
His face was one that women would write odes to, or at least she would volunteer for certain. He had a wide mouth and a slight crook in his nose that screamed the appendage had been broken at least once. But his eyes were dark and penetrating with the angle of lids both stark and heavily fringed. He did keep his hair cut neatly, slightly longer in the top and the cleanliness of the look only added to his appeal.
He had a strong jaw, the lines angled to a small divot in his chin. Compared to her he was huge. Not that he was overly tall, but even with the extra six inches on her feet he still topped her by an inch or two. His frame was thick though, exactly the way she liked her men and she knew that beneath the grey pinstripe of shirt, he was ripped. She could see the way the carefully tailored garment lovingly fit the solid curves of muscles across his torso and arms.
He had a slight grin, just a half-cocked tilt to one side of his mouth and she could see a dimple gouge the perfection of his cheek. Taylor never imagined being with a white man, in any way what so ever. But for some reason tonight he would be the single exception to her unspoken rule. God knows, he was gorgeous, and she wanted him, if only for this night. Nothing else but that mattered.
Chandler: Pants Tent and Tabs
Chandler Adkins was ready to leave the seven cities altogether. He had been here for several evenings on business and he was ready to return home after day one. When he arrived the traffic was horrendous and he had road rage to boot. That wasn’t like him, normally he kept himself on an even keel and being disgruntled was far from his usual persona.
Friday was his last night in town, and he asked the hotel concierge where he could find a drink and some loud music that he planned to ignore. The suggested location was Seven’s being it was closest, and he went without any particular expectations for his night. But he did need to get out a bit, and he had to think hard on the last time he actually went somewhere without a purpose for his presence.
It had been at least a year, and maybe longer than that. He knew he was a bore, as his last girlfriend and the one before her complained incessantly. But he was a simple man. He liked having the best, because he deserved it. He rarely shopped anymore, his tailor always came to him and had the finished products delivered to his office after the occasional fitting. But for Chandler, the easiest direction was a straight path and his career had always come first.
He took the stairs and knew he made a mistake when he was at the top of the landing. The crowd here had him like a fish out of water. But he came for a drink and he would have one, then promptly leave and go to bed. There was a stretch of road that called his name and fairly early in the morning at that.
Chandler only had the chance to order his drink from the bar by the front stairs when he saw her. She was a goddess like no other woman he had ever seen before. She had an amazing body, but the first thing he noticed was the look of panic, as if she was nervous as hell. He wondered what could make such a confident woman appear so jumpy, but she smoothed the look away as soon as she crossed the threshold. The next thing he noticed was her hair, a long fall of dreadlocks that fell into a V at the curve of her spine. The twists were pulled away from her face and he drunk his fill of her as he not-so covertly ogled every inch of the perfectly groomed woman.
He watched as a group of people called out and she responded. Chandler was so intent on the woman that he didn’t even realize his drink was in front of him until the bartender waved one hand in front of his face. It only took a moment to fish his card out of his pocket and slide the metal across the wood of the bar.
“Do you want to run a tab sir?” The bartender spoke as if he had the patience of Job, and as much time as Methuselah, but Chandler knew the man wanted to get paid.
He nodded, although he only planned to have the one drink he would like to get one for her. She was handed a beverage by one of the giggling girls around her and that nipped his idea of approaching her with an offering in the bud. But he could hear snippets of her conversation between the swells of rhythmic bass as she slickly negotiated the conversation away from herself.
He s
aw the furtive way she looked back before she slipped away. She ducked the crowd around her easily and the others were so engrossed in whatever topic she started prior to her departure that none of them even knew what direction to look for her in. But he did.
She had adeptly shimmied past the other club goers with a twist of hips so smooth she never even brushed against any of them. He followed with much less success and almost spilled his drink once or twice, there were just too many people and too much of him. He had no idea why he was so drawn to her. In fact, he never dated a woman of her race. But he had never had a woman appeal to him enough that he had to pursue her either.
Most if not all, of his former relationships were ladies that asked him out or hinted at being interested first. He was a gentleman and always paid for meals and such, but he never got the finer points of dating. Maybe that was why he was alone in his mid-thirties when most men were playing football with their children and meeting their wives for afternoon trysts.
But for now, he had to speak to her, though Chandler had no idea what he would say when he got there. As he grew closer to the exposed sides of the club, he felt the wind brush past his ears and he caught sight of her again. She leaned over the guard rail precariously. He stopped just a foot from her body and watched the way she felt his approach intuitively.
