Box of 1Night Stands: 21 Sizzling Nights

by Anthology

  “Thanks for listening. Really. I’ll be right back.”

  She watched him go, trying not to stare too hard at the amazing view of his tight, soccer-player’s ass encased in expensive wool and silk trousers. She shook her head.

  He’s leaving, remember?

  He said himself he looked forward to getting some structure back in his life. She sighed and emptied her wine glass. This proved harder than she had thought. She knew she wanted him, badly. But how to break through and prove it to him? A smile played at the corner of her mouth. She glanced around, put her napkin next to her plate and slid out of her seat.

  ***

  Ramon’s entire body hummed with energy as he stared at himself in the men’s room mirror. His need to escape from her or risk his go slow vow to Jackson had become imperative. Her laugh, the line of her jaw, the tops of her breasts, her bare thighs as she crossed and uncrossed those amazing legs combined to make him nearly demented with desire. He sighed and leaned his hands on the granite counter. His cock could cut diamonds and his balls were starting to ache.

  His natural tendency to go overboard with women, to fall madly, deeply in love with every single one of them, had gotten him in trouble before. But his publicist had always spun him as super playboy, master cocksman of the soccer world. It worked for all concerned.

  But this was different. He refused to let this one get away, goddamnit. They had a connection beyond physical. It was as strong as the deep throbbing in his lower belly. He looked up into the mirror, straight into Gillian’s deep green eyes. There she stood, bold as brass in the men’s room, a wicked smile on her face. He turned.

  “Look, um, I don’t think….” he started to say. But she reached out, hooked a finger through a belt loop and pulled him close. Before he could say another word, her arms were around his neck and her mouth covered his, her tongue caressing his lips. He moaned and gripped her closer, yanked her hair out of its flimsy clips, and buried his hands in the tangle of red that spilled over her shoulders.

  He walked her backward, hands on her ass, holding her as tightly as possible. Their tongues collided, teeth clicking in urgency. She broke away to catch her breath, giving him access to the neck he’d been eying all night. He ran his tongue down a line from her jaw, caressing the porcelain length of it, keeping his hands fisted in her hair. When she looked at him again, her eyes shone.

  “God, Gillian….” He gave into the mind blowing necessity to flick his tongue over her freckles. She smiled. “I knew it.” He muttered, as he buried his face in her neck again. “Tastes like cinnamon.”

  She drew him back toward the long chaise lounge conveniently situated in the large, men’s room sitting area. He eased her down and slid the flimsy strap off her shoulder, cupped the exposed curve of her breast, so perfect and heavy in his hand. The proud, hard buds of her nipples begged for his mouth. He pulled one between his lips, sucking hard. His head buzzed. He tried not to rub against her body, afraid he’d shoot his load in the expensive trousers Jackson had sent up, like a high school kid in the back seat of his dad’s car.

  “Wait, Ramon,” she whispered.

  “I’m not waiting. Not another minute.”

  “Good.” The one word made him shiver with anticipation. As their lips met again, a firm pounding on the door broke the moment. He propped himself on his hands, eyes locked on hers as the noise became more insistent. She raised an eyebrow and grinned. He regained his feet, reluctant, laughing as he helped her up and readjusted her dress.

  “Let’s dance,” he muttered into her ear. He could drag this out, if it meant what he thought at the end. And the dance floor held all sorts of opportunities for touching her in public. Sore knee be damned, he grinned and pulled some ibuprofen from his pocket, dry swallowing them with hardly a grimace. I’m gonna show this woman the time of her life.

  Chapter Five

  The Castillo resort chain used the Las Vegas location as a flagship. All their party spots and restaurants around the world were based on the successes they managed in Sin City. The penthouse nightclub, Taboo, was no exception. By the time Gillian and Ramon entered, escorted past the very long line straight to their private booth, it teemed with well-dressed people.

  The combination of desire, a deep rumbling of emotion, and the heat of all the bodies made her woozy. She let him lead her to the table. The bass from the latest house mix hip-hop settled deep in her chest.

  They drank, kissed, and showed off for the crowd on the dance floor for a while as she worked herself into a horny state worthy of the best bodice ripper. The noise precluded that. And after about an hour, the sight of all the sweet young things angling for her date’s attention had pissed her off one time too many.

  Granted, the man had no right to look so good. Dark trousers and a stark white, slightly textured shirt that had started out topped with a blue tie at dinner, caressed his amazing body like a glove. His glossy black hair had grown since the last time she’d seen him—on television—being carried off the field on a stretcher. It touched his collar, inviting her fingers. She used the dance floor as an excuse to grind against him, to thread her hands into the silky strands, teasing him, using her body and lips to entice.

  They collapsed into their booth, sweaty from three songs worth of bump and grind.

  “Ramon.” She had to shout over the din.

  He leaned in, seeking her lips, but she pulled away.

  “Can we go?”

  He nodded so eagerly she wished she’d suggested it earlier. She followed him from the nightclub, into the crowded elevator, through the loud casino, and onto the sidewalk. Once out in the steamy summer night, surrounded by tourists, he crushed her to him. She let herself relax in his arms. There, outside the usual crush of Vegas bullshit, on the sidewalk, they connected.

  She parted her lips, let his tongue invade, and relished the feel of his strong body. It had been so long since she’d shared anything of herself with a man. And something about this particular man seemed right, but terrifying to her wounded heart.

  She stepped out of his strong embrace, needing some air, and starting to panic. It had gone too far. The whole thing felt like too much about pure physical satisfaction, in a town where that was easy to accomplish. She wanted more.

  But this guy? He had one foot out the door already.

  Ramon’s body was zinging, light as air. He’d never dreamed Gillian would instigate that bathroom scene. And their dance floor moments had been so hot. He’d stuffed the tie in his pocket, danced his ass off with her to the point his bad knee had started a low grade hum of dissatisfaction. And his cock still throbbed with unconsummated lust. But worse than that, he could picture himself with her, with her kid, staying for the duration. That nearly blinded him with terror.

  Once they’d escaped the nightclub madhouse, his need to really kiss her, somehow prove his intentions, overcame his promise to Jackson. The evening had stopped being about a one-night-stand hours ago for him. As he held her in his arms, tasted her lips, his decision solidified in his head, his earlier panic subsiding. But he had no idea how to tell her. She’d think him weak, unwilling to even try to regain his former glory.

  They strolled along the Strip, hand-in-hand, cooling off from the overheated atmosphere of the dance floor. He steeled his resolve. Stopping on the busy sidewalk, making the tourists and drunken assholes move around them, he cradled her face in his hands.

  “Can I buy you a nightcap?”

  She threw her head back with full-throated laughter and linked her hands in the small of his back, holding him close, making him even harder, were that possible. Her full lips touched his. “I think we’re a little beyond that, don’t you?”

  He nodded, took her hand and led her through the throng, his entire soul suffused with happiness. He knew this had to be the right thing, for the very first time in his entire life.

  ***

  People watched them as Ramon lead her through the large, tastefully decorated Castillo lobby. Her head b
uzzed, but she’d been drinking water for the last two hours. Where she was headed with this man, his body, his lips—that made her drunk with anticipation.

  The mirrored elevator trebled her image from many angles as she wrapped around the amazing dark-skinned young man. His arms, chest, face, tongue, all combined to invade her senses. Her natural reserve drifted away. He hit the stop button on the panel while he kissed her, possessed her. His entire being intoxicated her. She tried not to moan too loudly.

  “Oh, dear God, Gillian,” he murmured, his lips against her neck. They’d backed into the corner of the stalled elevator. He lifted her short skirt and shoved aside her thong. His finger touched the hard nub of her engorged clit. She shuddered as he finally found his target. Keeping his thumb against the button of flesh, he thrust two fingers inside her moist pussy.

  Their lips teased, nipping at each other. She lifted one knee, wrapped it around his waist, giving him more access, needing him deeper. Her body, so long neglected, reacted quickly. Long-buried desire raged through her brain.

  The orgasm ripped through her with a fierce energy. She clutched his shoulders and cried out, her voice hoarse with passion. He kept his fingers inside her as her body calmed. His lips never left her skin. She gasped at the sensation of his teeth against her neck.

  “God, that was beautiful.” He sighed and eased his fingers out. She watched as he put them into his mouth one by one, sucking her essence from his flesh. She struggled away from the wall, a little embarrassed by her knee-jerk reaction. Before she could say a word, he had both hands propped on either side of her head, pinning her back against the cool glass.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, before giving her a tender kiss. She tasted herself on his lips, but drew back in surprise.

  “Sorry for what? Was it not clear how good that felt?” She adjusted her dress and tried to rearrange her hair, cursing her fair skin for giving away her emotions. He’s leaving Gillian. This is all you get, so enjoy it.

  His lovely, gentle smile reflected such honest happiness she couldn’t help but grin back. “It’s Jackson. He told me I should, you know, go slow with you. Not to rush.”

  She put her arms around the man’s neck and held him close. “Jackson Castillo is full of shit,” she whispered in his ear. “Now, take me to your room. I want more.”

  Without taking his eyes from hers, he hit the start button and the number twenty-seven, then leaned in and owned her mouth once more with a sweep of his tongue.

  Chapter Six

  They raced down the hall, giggling like teenagers. Ramon fumbled for his key card, missing the swipe several times thanks to Gillian’s hand on his zipper.

  “Jesus, woman, you’re gonna make me…ah!” He finally got the green light and shoved the door open. Their arms tangled, mouths collided as he yanked her inside, pushing her up against the wall inside the foyer. Almost blinded by passion, his need to have her was stronger than any he’d ever experienced.

  “Now,” he growled. “I need you right now. Please, Gillian.” He lifted both of her legs up around his body, shoving her soaked thong aside. She kept her arms around his neck as he buried his face in her breasts.

  “Wait, Ramon.” She tried to talk around his kisses. “I’m too heavy. You’ll hurt yourself.” But he held on tighter, sucking first one then the other delicious nipple, one hand cradling a breast, the other propped against the wall. Angling his hips to keep them anchored her pussy was hot on his still-covered cock.

  “Oh, my God, I have to….” He bit down lightly on her jugular vein then sucked hard before reaching down to unzip his trousers and give his aching cock some relief.

  She gasped at the sensation and put her hands on his shoulders. He cut off anything she might say with a kiss so intense she moaned and pressed down against his flesh. He tried his level best not to shove himself inside her body. He was so close. She let his length slide along the outside of her moist lips, making him insane with need. The smell of their combined passion, along with her intoxicating vanilla-scented perfume coiled around him.

  They stayed that way, pressed together against the wall a few feet inside a suite that held no end of places to fuck, but he didn’t let go. His head spun, as he leaned in and lapped the beads of sweat along her neck, between her breasts. “Condom?” She gasped. “Where…?”

  He managed to fish out his wallet, find a foil packet, tear it open and lean back, still holding her up against the wall with his thighs. She smiled at him. “I think this would make a lovely therapy for your knee, don’t you?” He grunted and quickly rolled the latex over his rigid cock. Groaning into her mouth as she shifted slightly, he slipped inside. She kept her deep green eyes on his as her body moved, gripping his shaft.

  She bit her lip and gasped when he grabbed her hips and shoved, hard, reaching high inside her, moaning low in his throat. The velvet clutch of her pussy felt exactly as he had imagined since first laying eyes on her. Her strong thighs gripped his waist and he smelled her warm, moist lust all around him. Christ, I’m gonna come already. He clamped down hard, thinking about offside rules, set plays, asshole referees, and gut-busting drills, anything but the grip of her walls around his cock.

  “God, Ramon. I want to feel you come. Show me how much you want me. Don’t hold back.” Her lips tickled before she bit on his earlobe. He groaned and pressed her against the wall, his mind a blur, all pretense of control forgotten. They melded together, his face against her neck, her arms tight around him. She cried out, yelling his name, her voice hoarse as she came in an amazing gush of fluid and spasm all along his cock. That tore it.

  “Oh…unh…God…!” He gave one last shove, grunted, and his body flooded with sweet release as he finally climaxed. The mind-blowing orgasm was one for the record books. Keeping his hands on her hips, he nestled his face against the gorgeous globes of her breasts. His cock jerked and twitched. Finally, his bad knee cried out and he eased her off and down to the floor.

  He stepped back, hands on his hips, breathing ragged, still fully dressed but for his glistening, latex-covered shaft. Suddenly ashamed of himself for taking her that way, he took the condom off and zipped up. He studied the vision before him, her tangled red hair wild from his hands and friction against the surface behind her, dress in a shimmering puddle at her feet, amazing breasts tipped with sweet nipples. He froze the sight of her swollen lips and heavy-lidded, just-fucked expression in his memory banks forever.

  Taking her hand, he led her into the room, sat on the bed and pulled her into his lap. They kissed for what must have been like hours, his mind content for the first time in months. At that moment he knew he would never, ever leave. Shoving aside the mental warnings—that he was impulsive, acted too often on emotion and instinct—he lay the beautiful woman down on the bed and, quickly removed his clothes.

  He propped himself beside her up on an elbow and ran a finger down her face, trying to find words. A tear leaked out of her eye. Another followed it. He lay back, holding her as sobs broke through, wracking her body, frightening him with their intensity. Fuck. Jackson had been right. He’d gone too far, too fast, in spite of her protests.

  “Shh…querida, my darling…shh….” He brushed her hair back, kissed her cheeks, tasting salt from sweat and tears. “I’m here, it’s okay….”

  Finally, she sniffled and hiccupped. Without a word, she went into the bathroom. When she returned, with a large towel wound around her body, he sighed. I fucked this up for certain.

  Gillian’s entire soul sang with happiness and sadness all at once. This man had been exactly what she needed, wanted, all of it. How in the hell would she be able to tell him goodbye in one more day?

  Figures. You fell in love with a man with a bum heart then get your own ripped out of your chest for two years. Now you find another amazing guy, fall in love with him inside of twenty-four hours, although you know damn good and well it’s a one-night stand.

  She leaned on the doorway of the bathroom, body still pulsing and twi
tching from the long forgotten sensations of a nice hard fuck. Observing the bronzed god-like body, she resisted the urge to lick her lips. His strong torso tapered to a narrow waist, his ab muscles prominent, the line of his hips pointed straight to that cock, still half mast, long, lean, and perfect. The ugly scar running from the top of his right knee all the way to his ankle drew her eye. The ugly marring of his physical perfection made her nearly ill, knowing as she did what agony it had caused him.

  “That looks terrible.” She pointed to it, not sure why she said it as she made her way back over to him.

  He looked down at his injury, then back up at her, concern flooding his eyes. “Yes, it was. It is terrible. I thought my life was over.”

  In one smooth motion he had her gathered in his arms and pressed his mouth to hers. The sweet nectar of his lips nearly made her come apart at the seams. He broke the kiss and took her face between his hands. “But now I know it’s not.”

  She pulled away. “Don’t bullshit me, Ramon. I know you’re leaving Monday.”

  She laid her aching head on his bare chest, arms wrapped around his lower back. The strong thump-thump of his heart soothed her. He ran his hands down her hair, her back, cupped her ass and then moved back up. His cock stirred against the towel.

  “But,” she said before he could speak, keeping her face hidden from his gaze lest he see the raw longing in her eyes. “I want you to fuck me again, and again, so I can have this at least, before you go.” She dropped the towel, and tugged him toward the bed, kissing him, loving the taste, smell and feel of him all through her.

  But he stopped her, took her arms from around his waist and held her still. She breathed fast, needed him inside her again, willing to take that in lieu of a long commitment if that’s what he was offering. But he simply stared at her, his chestnut eyes darkening further with lust and some sort of emotion she couldn’t or wouldn’t identify.