by Desiree Holt
The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement (including infringement without monetary gain) is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in, or encourage, the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Overnight Sensation
Copyright © 2012 by Desiree Holt
ISBN: 978-1-61333-393-8
Cover art by Nicole Austin
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
Published by Decadent Publishing Company, LLC
Look for us online at:
www.decadentpublishing.com
Naughty Sleepover Stories
Sugar Girl by Nicole Austin
Say Yes by Regina Carlysle
Spank ’em Cowboy by Samantha Cayto
More Than You Know by Cerise DeLand
Overnight Sensation by Desiree Holt
Blame it on Texas by Allie Standifer
When a Lady Meets a King by Brenna Zinn
Also by Desiree Holt
Dark Secrets
He Came Upon a Midnight Clear
Joy Ride
Lust Becomes You
Night Mission
Overnight Sensation
Naughty Sleepover
By
Desiree Holt
~DEDICATION~
To the Sassy Seven—where would we be without each other?
Chapter One
The dark, paneled bar at The Menger Hotel was wall-to-wall crowded, including the tables on the balcony. As usual. Especially on a Friday. And certainly on this particular Friday with the San Antonio Stock Show and Rodeo in town. Abbie Lawlor sighed and blew at a stray curl brushing her forehead.
“We’ll never get even close to the bar at this hour,” she told her friend. “It’s already seven o’clock. This is insane. We should have gone someplace else instead.”
Maya Arevalo shook her head and pushed Abbie into the throng of people. “You know Luke will take care of us. Just squeeze your way to the end of the bar. He’ll spot us.”
They volunteered one Friday a month as docents at The Alamo, greeting tourists and retelling stories of Texas history. That day, the historic site had been jammed, and Maya insisted her dry throat couldn’t wait until they found a bar less crowded.
“Besides,” she pointed out, “with the rodeo in town, we’d have to drive way out to the north side to find a place not filled with people.”
Abbie had to agree with her friend. With a lot of “Excuse mes” and “Sorrys” Abbie managed to squeeze past the people standing around with their drinks and find a tiny place to wedge into. She planned to wait patiently until they caught Luke’s attention—because that’s the kind of person she was—but Maya waved a hand over her head and bounced on her feet.
“Luke!” she called to the bartender. “Hey, Luke. Over here.”
The tall, broad-shouldered man with the thick shock of brown hair glanced over at them, smiled, and nodded. He signaled with one finger for them to hold on.
“See?” Maya said. “I told you he’d take care of us.”
Abbie had convinced herself her friend kept dragging her to The Menger bar because of Luke. Why else, today of all days, would she insist they get their end-of-the-day drinks there rather than someplace where at least they could get a seat?
“Maybe he could take care of me at the same time.” The voice was definitely male. Deep, with a drawl as thick as sorghum. It flowed over Abbie’s skin like a soft layer of velvet and sent a tiny shiver wiggling down her spine.
She managed to turn enough in the tight space to see who had spoken.
Holy shit!
If she’d ordered up sexy this would definitely be the package it came in. Her gaze took in his tall and lean body. Vivid blue eyes contrasted with his tanned skin, his smile could melt the panties off even the most frigid women. He stood close and the hard, muscular frame of his body pressed against her, and the soft breeze of his breath feathered her skin. Something inside her sizzled and burned.
And she couldn’t chalk it all up to sexual chemistry. There was something so…overwhelming about the man. He possessed an air of control that made her heart stutter.
“Oh, um, well….” Way to act like an idiot, Miss Glamour Girl.
“I think in this crowd, you’ll have a better chance than I will,” he pointed out.
He grinned, and holy Hannah, did she spot a dimple in one cheek?
“Uh, sure.”
Abbie tried to turn to face the bar again but more people had crowded in leaving hardly any breathing room. The surging throng pushed the man more tightly against her, the imprint of his body like a brand against her skin. And that had to be his hard cock making itself felt through both her clothes and his. Heat surged over her like a rolling tide.
Ohmigod!
“What do you want?” Maya shouted in her ear, jabbing with an elbow to get her attention. “Luke’s waiting. Hurry up.”
“Uh….” Her brain suddenly froze along with her mouth and she couldn’t produce any words.
“I’ll have bourbon on the rocks,” the hunk’s warm voice breathed near her ear.
Abbie finally got her tongue unstuck. “A cosmo. And, um, a bourbon on the rocks.”
Despite the people clamoring for attention, Luke stopped in his tracks and stared at her. “Both of them?” he asked. “At the same time?”
“Abbie.” Maya elbowed her again. “What is the matter with you?”
She lifted her chin. “Yes. Both of them. Now.”
Luke shrugged and began building the drinks.
“Are you crazy?” Maya shouted in her ear. “You never drink bourbon.”
“Thanks, darlin’,” her sexy hunk said in the other ear. He plunked a twenty on the counter. “This ought to cover both drinks. And your friend’s, too.”
“That’s too much,” she protested, putting her mouth close to his face, sending electricity zinging through her.
She jumped as Maya pinched her arm.
“Who’s Mr. Gorgeous?” her friend asked, leaning close so Abbie could hear her.
“Don’t know yet. He just asked me to order his drink for him.”
The noise level escalated as men and women celebrating the end of the week and the excitement of the rodeo laughed and shouted at each other. She managed to hand Mr. Sexy his drink, and he lifted it to her in silent thanks.
You’re welcome, she mouthed and took a sip of her cosmo.
“Let’s get out of this noise.” He tugged on her arm.
She had to be losing her mind to let him pull her out of the bar, but he had such a possessive air about him. An attitude that said he was in control of the situation. It never occurred to her to refuse. In her deepest, most secret places, she got a funny, squiggly feeling about the man. A feeling he might hold the key to her secret desires. Nothing specific, but he gave off vibes she couldn’t ignore.
She nudged Maya to indicate she was leaving. Her friend stared, eyes wide, and mouthed Oh! My! God! What are you doing? Be careful!
Making sure she’d anchored the strap of her purse securely on her shoulder, she
let him lead her away from her spot. And maybe into waters where she’d barely dipped her toe.
The noise seemed to stop at the bar entrance as if an invisible wall had closed it off. In seconds they were out of the crowd and in the wide hallway leading to the hotel lobby.
“Much better,” Mr. Sexy said, flashing the dimple again.
Abbie didn’t usually act impetuously so why had she followed the man out of the bar without any reservation? She’d about given up her quest to find what she was looking for in a man—solid, sexy. A man who wanted the same type of things in the bedroom she did. A man who could claim both her body and her heart. Yet it had seemed the most natural thing to be led out of the noise and confusion of the bar by a man whose name she didn’t even know. Despite his relaxed attitude, she could feel—almost see—the power radiating from him. He was a man in control, the very element that drew her to him so strongly. Because Abbie Lawlor carried a secret—as a latent submissive, she wanted a monogamous relationship with the right kind of Dom. She’d discovered this almost by accident, and curiosity drove her to explore it more. Unable to discuss her submissive nature with Maya or any of her other friends meant a lot of her evenings were spent online having conversations with members of two BDSM online communities she’d joined. Her craving for submission continued to grow even as she wondered what to do about it. She couldn’t ask a man outright, Hey! Are you a Dom? She’d tried the clubs, hoping to find a connection to the right Dom, but for her as for a few others, the club scene made her uncomfortable.
Which left her in limbo. Vanilla guys didn’t do it for her, and she’d left herself with almost no options to connect with anyone except in cyberspace.
Until now. Right this minute. And she couldn’t even say exactly why she’d gone with him without any reluctance. Not one to believe in instant attraction or fated connections, but when he stroked her cheek so lightly, something awoke inside her. It wasn’t what he said or did. It was just…him. As if she received some kind of silent signal.
Probably the reason why she stood in the hotel hallway with a man she knew nothing about. All because the dominant vibes she’d learned to look for radiated from him in strong, magnetic waves. Her stomach flip-flopped with a mixture of hope and the fear of disappointment.
“Sam Burdette.”
Abbie blinked. “Excuse me?”
“My name. It’s Sam Burdette. I thought we should introduce ourselves.” He grinned at her. “Now, I think it’s your turn to tell me yours.”
“Oh. Uh, it’s Abbie. Abbie Lawlor.” For an intelligent woman, she was suddenly damn tongue-tied. If she didn’t get her brain together, it wouldn’t matter if they had that connection she’d been looking for or not. He’d toss her back in the shallow end of the pond.
Instead he gave her a taste of his devastating smile again. “Nice to meet you, Abbie Lawlor.”
She moved closer to the wall, leaning against it to keep away from the tide of people hurrying past, heading to the lobby or the opposite way to the elevators. For a moment she wondered if she’d made a huge mistake. Then he reached out and caressed her cheek lightly with one finger. There went that delicious shiver again. Something about Sam Burdette made her want to lick him all over—a flame deep within made her want the things tucked away in a hidden corner of her mind.
“Abbie?” His voice pierced her mental musings.
She blinked. “Hmm?”
“I know your body’s here because I can’t take my eyes off it, but where did your mind disappear to?”
“Oh.” She blinked again. “Sorry.” Taking a fortifying sip of her drink, she ordered herself to get her shit together.
“So, are you staying here?” he asked, looking at her over the rim of his glass.
“At The Menger?” How much dumber could she sound?
“Well, yeah. Or do you live here in town?”
A large, noisy group of people tromped down the hallway, laughing, their western gear identifying them either as part of the rodeo or visitors planning to attend it. One of the women bumped into Abbie, nearly spilling the entire cosmo on her sweater. As it was, some drops splashed on her hand and arm.
Sam pulled his handkerchief out and mopped up the liquid. When his knuckles brushed her arm, there it went again, that indefinable something that lit up her insides like a Christmas tree. She couldn’t say if she wanted to know exactly what it was, but it had to be about more than sex.
“Listen.” He tucked the handkerchief back in his pocket. “Let’s get out of this craziness and grab some dinner. They’ve got a great restaurant right here in the hotel, if it’s not full. How does that sound?”
How did it sound having dinner with a man she’d met scant minutes ago but who ignited latent fires inside her? A man she knew nothing about except he struck at something deep in her core? Scary and intriguing? Dangerous and tempting? Her saner self reminded her a girl didn’t accidentally stumble over the perfect Dom in a crowded bar, but her inner woman screamed, maybe he’s The One. Go for it. If she believed in Fate she might even think life had delivered to her the man she’d been seeking.
And they’d barely exchanged two dozen words!
Was this even possible?
“So what about it?” His voice nudged her back to the present. “Dinner? You know, where you eat good food? Have good conversation? Maybe get to know each other a little bit?” He leaned closer. “Maybe more than a little bit?”
“Yes.” She wet her lips. “I’d love to have dinner with you.”
He took her hand as they walked to the restaurant located on the far side of the hotel from the bar, in the original part of The Menger. The part everyone referred to as haunted.
“Think we’ll see any ghosts tonight?” she joked as they made their way through both lobbies.
“I don’t know, maybe.” He bent his head slightly to put his mouth close to her ear. “I know what I’d rather see.”
Heat crept up her cheeks at how many ways his words could be taken. Before she could think of an answer, they were at the restaurant. The hostess took their drinks from them and led them to a table at the back by a window. She placed their drinks on the white tablecloth and snapped open the crisp linen napkins, placing them in their laps.
“Your waiter will be with you shortly,” she told them.
“No rush,” Sam said. He raised an eyebrow at her. “We’re in no hurry, right? You don’t have someplace you have to be?”
“No.” She took a sip of her drink. “No, not at all. Let me just text my friend so she doesn’t wait for me.”
She messaged Maya then took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “So, Sam Burdette…are you a local or are you visiting San Antonio?”
The grin he gave her should have been labeled lethal.
“Staying here for the weekend. Came up from El Paso with some buddies for a friend’s wedding tomorrow night.”
“El Paso?” She cocked her head.
“Uh, huh. Ever been there?” He lifted his drink and the muscles in his throat worked as he swallowed.
Abbie stared, fascinated. “No,” she finally said. “I never have.”
He set the glass back on the table. “So, are you a visitor or a local?”
He reached easily across the linen tablecloth to where her hand rested until his fingers linked with hers. Again such a simple touch but enough to take her breath away. The throbbing in her pussy had been a minor tremor up until then. Suddenly it vibrated through her body, and she had no doubt she’d soaked her thong. She’d met a lot of sexy men who’d generated a level of heat inside her, but only Sam created a response that strong.
“Uh, no. Not a visitor. I live in San Antonio. Well, actually, just north of the city. But I volunteer one Friday a month as a docent at The Alamo.”
“Greeting tourists and talking history, right?”
“Right!” She flashed him a smile. “I’m never sure if someone knows what a docent is or not.”
“Some of our men serve as guards
, so I know a lot about it.”
“Guards?” She frowned. “I know we have Texas Rangers who pull sentry duty.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he drawled. “Samuel J. Burdette, Texas Ranger, Company E, El Paso, at your service.”
Ohmigod!
Many people, both in and out of the life, claimed they couldn’t tell a Dom or a sub outside the arena of play. Unless of course they were in a committed relationship and then the signs were there, if one knew what to look for. But Abbie had been on her search for so long she had finely tuned radar.
In all her fantasies of finding the Dom she sought, how many times had he taken the form of a Texas Ranger, the state’s elite crime fighting organization? They were powerful men, self-assured, part of the oldest law enforcement agency in North America, with statewide jurisdiction. And for her, the ultimate symbol of the kind of Dom she kept looking for.
Maybe, just maybe….
She mentally shook her head. No, she was an idiot to hope that—
“You do like Texas Rangers, right?” Sam watched her, one corner of his mouth kicked up in the hint of a smile. But what glittered in his eyes was no smile. Instead she saw heat, hunger, lust, need. And something indefinable that made her breath catch in her throat.
“Yes, I do,” she finally answered. She’d better get her brain in gear or he’d think he’d found an idiot and a simpleton and dump her back in the bar. “As a matter of fact, they’re my favorite kind of man.”
His look nearly melted her soaked thong.
“Good.” His thumb brushed gently over her knuckle, as much a gesture of possession as desire. “My kind of woman.”
Oh, yes, please. Please.
The waiter materialized at their table, handed them menus and in a slight drawl explained the specialties of the evening.
“Give us a few minutes,” Sam said. “Meanwhile, you could bring us another round of drinks. Cosmo for the lady, bourbon rocks for me.”
