One Shameless Night (A West Sisters Novel #2) Amazon

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by Hargrove, A.




  First Edition

  One Shameless Night (A West Sisters Novel #2)

  All Rights Reserved

  Copyright © 2019 A.M. Hargrove

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in form or any manner whatsoever by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or a book review. Scanning, uploading and distribution of the book via the Internet or via any other means without permission is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support for the author’s rights is appreciated. For information address to permissions coordinator at [email protected]

  A.M. Hargrove LLC All rights reserved.

  Cover Design by Maria @ Steamy Designs

  Cover Photo by Eric David Battershell Photography

  Cover Model: Parker Ramsay

  Editing: My Brother’s Editor

  Proofreading: iScream Proofreading Services

  Contents

  Playlist

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Epilogue

  A.M. Hargrove

  Other Books

  Acknowledgements

  This book is dedicated to all of my Italian readers. Last year when I visited your beautiful country, the idea for an Italian main character struck, and here is the result of that. I love you all more than I can say. I hope Alessandro, Gabriele, and their family live up to your expectations.

  “Too many of us are not living our dreams because we are living our fears.”

  – Les Brown

  Playlist

  “Who’s Gonna Ride Your Wild Horses” … U2

  “Nothing More” … The Alternate Routes

  “Landslide” … Fleetwood Mac

  “Under Pressure” … Queen and David Bowie

  “Gimme Shelter” … The Rolling Stones

  “The Sound Of Falling In Love” … Matt Hires

  “Everlong” … Foofighters

  “Drive” … Incubus

  “Good Riddance (Time Of Your Life)” … Green Day

  “Dig” … Incubus

  “Interstate Love Song” … Stone Temple Pilots

  “With Or Without You” … U2

  “All That I See” … The Alternate Routes

  “Victorious” … Skillet

  Chapter One

  Piper

  My belly lurched at the thought of leaving my family, but mostly my sister, Sylvie. I had flown in from the U.K., where I was studying for my master’s, in order to attend her wedding. She had twins that were only a couple of months old and they were absolutely adorable. I loved school, but I loved my family more. Homesickness gut-punched me, and it was all I could do not to bawl like my tiny nephews did when they were hungry. The entire crew piled into a van and we all left together in order to get me to the airport on time for my flight from Vail to Denver. My connection to London was a direct flight from there. Evan, my new brother-in-law, had been kind enough to buy me a first class ticket, so I'd have a bed on the way. I doubted I'd use it because of my sadness at leaving.

  We said our goodbyes, but Evan had to practically pry me off of Sylvie. When I attempted to kiss the twins, he rerouted me toward the airport doors and told me it would probably be best if I just went inside. Dad hugged me and promised he'd visit soon. Most likely he said that to make me feel better because you could barely get him away from the babies. Who could blame him? I sniffed again at the thought of how those cute little humans would look entirely different the next time I saw them.

  Waving to everyone through the doors, I eventually turned to check in. The rest of the family would be flying back to New York in Evan's private jet. Tears threatened again when thoughts of snuggling the babies during the flight circled in my mind. The flight to Denver turned out to be fine, other than I sobbed all the way. One of the flight attendants brought me a box of tissues, and I pitied the poor woman sitting next to me. As soon as we landed and they opened the door of the plane, she scurried away without a glance at me. I didn't blame her. Who wanted to sit next to a blubbering mess like me?

  When I got to my connecting flight, I was told there was a problem. The plane had mechanical issues and they were rescheduling all passengers. Everyone scrambled to get onto another flight. Luckily enough, I got re-ticketed, although it was in coach. That was my only option if I wanted to get back to London in time for class the following day.

  I found the new gate and waited to board. As luck would have it, I was in the very back of the plane, by the bathrooms and galley. So much for sleeping. Then I cried again as the thought of everyone on Evan's fancy jet, on their way back to New York, struck. My only salvation was I had the aisle seat so at least I could stretch my legs out during the flight. I was wiping my leaky eyes when a raspy voice said, “Mi scusi.” He pointed to the seat right next to me. I was sure he spoke either Italian or Portuguese, because I was familiar enough with Spanish to know it wasn't that.

  I stood so he could get to his seat and even then, I had to look up. He was tall, with blond to light brown hair, amazing hazel eyes, and wore glasses. There was something about men in glasses that I'd always found hot. Sexiness oozed from him. I even noticed it in my depressed state. I checked to see if he wore a wedding ring. He had on several rings, but I didn't know if they were the kind that indicated wedded bliss. I dropped my gaze down to his ass because it was right in front of me now as he slid into his seat, and it was delicious. I'd been so focused on it, it wasn't until I heard him clear his throat that I snapped out of my ass-trance and sat down.

  Sniffing back my tears, his gaze burned through me. I'm sure he was thinking how rotten his luck was because he'd gotten stuck next to an emotional wreck of a woman. Some tissues appeared next to my hand. Turning my head, I noticed he was smiling. God had gifted this man with a smile that was full of sexual promise. If only.

  “Thank you.” I wiped my eyes, which I
was sure looked like hell. Mascara must've been perched on my chin by now.

  “You're welcome. I hope everything is okay?”

  “I'm only being foolish,” I answered, sucking back more tears. “I left my family behind. My sister just got married and has infant twins. My mother recently died, I'm on my way back to the U.K. I was supposed to be on a different plane in first class, but it had mechanical problems, so here I am, crying my eyes out next to you. I'm sorry.” I just vomited out my life story to this poor guy. What the hell was wrong with me?

  “You too? I was supposed to be on that flight in first class. This was the only option, unless I wanted to wait two days, and I have to get back to the U.K. as well.”

  His beautiful smile had me smiling in return.

  “I guess we're in this together then.”

  “I'm sorry about your mother. I lost mine at a very early age.”

  I grabbed his hand, which surprised him by his startled expression. “Oh no! That must've been horrible. I can't imagine. I'm twenty-five, and it's killing me. Mine passed in January and I keep telling myself it'll get better. But I constantly want to call or text her, until I remember she's gone. I don't know how a young child could manage. My heart hurts for you.”

  “Yes, it was a terrible time for my father and me. He was very, very sad. I remember he cried all the time, and I went to stay with my grandparents. I didn't understand why my mother didn't come to get me. Children can't understand those things.”

  As he told me his story, I cried for the broken child he must've been.

  “Ah, I didn't mean to make you cry. It was a long time ago, and, as you can see, this old heart has mended.”

  “I don't believe you. That's something you never get over. You only learn to cope with the pain.”

  He adjusted his glasses. “Perhaps you’re correct. My father eventually stopped crying. We grew very close again and time passed.”

  “Did he ever remarry?” I was curious as I thought about my own father.

  “Sadly, no. He is still a single man, but a very busy one. I believe he's happy in his own way.”

  The flight attendant came through to check if we were buckled up and they did the safety video. Soon after, we took off. Maybe with this attractive man next to me, the flight wouldn't be so bad after all.

  When they announced we could use all devices, he pulled out a computer and began typing away. About a half hour later, he shut it down.

  “Were you in Denver on business?”

  “Yes, and it was my first time there,” he said. “I would very much like to go back. It was an interesting city. You were there as well?”

  “No, my brother-in-law has a house in Vail. That's where we were.”

  “Do you ski?” he asked.

  “Yes, do you?”

  “Yes, I love to ski. I hear Vail is a wonderful place.”

  “It is. If you ever get the chance, you should go. By the way, I'm Piper.”

  He laughed. “Hello, Piper. I’m Alessandro. I’m very pleased to meet you.” We shook hands and I didn't want to let his go. It was warm and comforting.

  “Same here. And I take it you're Italian?”

  “Yes. How could you tell?” he asked with a chuckle.

  “Your British accent gave you away.” We both laughed this time. “But honestly, your English is impeccable. You don’t have an accent, but it was when you first got here and spoke Italian.”

  “My mother was American as is my grandmother. I learned English along with Italian growing up. They are both my native languages. I sometimes slip in and out of them by mistake.”

  “I see. You're very lucky, you know.”

  “Why's that?”

  “I wish I were bi-lingual.”

  “Ah. Yes, Americans are getting better at that, but most still only speak English. It's not too late, you know.”

  “True.”

  We checked out the movies and found we shared the same interests. We talked about books and discovered we both loved to read. He loved English and Italian literature and I shared with him my love for English literature. We discussed how we both loved hiking and biking. I told him a funny story about how I was mountain biking once and crashed into a ravine. He didn't find it funny. In fact, he was concerned I could've been injured.

  “That part was true. The funny part was when I showed up at work the next morning. I had to teach, and my face looked like I'd gone ten rounds with a prizefighter. My principal wanted to know who beat me up. She thought I'd gotten mugged.”

  “What did you look like?”

  “I had a black eye and one entire side of my face was scraped raw. It was pretty bad. The students thought it was cool, though. You know how kids are.”

  “You should be careful mountain biking.”

  “I am. That was a freak accident.”

  Sometime during the flight, I fell asleep. When I woke up, my head was on his shoulder, and my arm was hugging him. What the hell? I jerked straight up in my seat and he chuckled, a deep sexy one that sent heat racing through my veins. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that.”

  Embarrassment plowed into me and the last thing I wanted was to look up at him. But his gaze burned into me. My eyes lifted and fire exuded from him, turning the hazel orbs into a deeper golden hue.

  “You were sleeping very soundly. I didn't mind a bit,” he murmured.

  I strained to hear him even though my skin was scorched from his gaze. It was awkward, because he stared at me as though he wanted something more. Or was that my overactive imagination? And what more could he want? This flight would be over soon and then we'd go our separate ways. What good would it do? I didn't want to get involved with someone for a one and done. What the hell was I even saying? A one and done? No chance would I become a member of the mile-high club with someone I just met.

  How could I have known after two vodka drinks, I'd be eating my words. It didn't happen in the bathroom. It happened in our seats. The lights were out, there was no one on either side of us, and blankets covered us. We’d been exchanging surreptitious glances and his were hotter than sin. My body was a live wire, waiting to ignite. His hand reached over, unzipped my pants as he watched me closely. Expert fingers soon had me stifling my moans as I worked his long thick cock. We each came quickly and as silently as possible, which was no easy thing for me. Technically, we hadn't done it, so I guess I wasn't truly a member, but still, I'd let this stranger bring me to a glorious orgasm as I bit my lips in ecstasy.

  When he kissed me afterward and whispered, “Piper, you are an extremely sexy woman. I'd love to have you completely,” I wanted to climb aboard that train and ride it forever.

  Unfortunately, the flight landed too soon, and we walked to baggage claim. My heart was heavy once again at the thought of my lonely apartment waiting for me.

  We waited in line for our taxis, and when it was my turn, he kissed my hand and bid me farewell. Disappointment struck when he didn't ask for my number, but he did say he would only be here for six months. And wasn't that my plan as well?

  * * *

  The following day, I dragged myself to class, still suffering from jet lag. I took my usual front row seat, but this time, it would force me to stay awake. Only that wouldn't be necessary because in walked Alessandro. He headed straight for the podium, and said, “Good morning everyone. My name is Professor Balotelli and I will be your visiting instructor for the next six months.” His eyes scanned the room until they landed on me. They widened, and then his mouth curved up, as I broke into a sweat and automatically clenched my thighs. This was going to be an impossible six months.

  Chapter Two

  Alessandro

  My sleepless night did nothing for the degree of anxiety I had in taking over Professor Lithcomb's class. I had applied for a position here and was desperate to leave Italy for one reason only, but Cambridge had rejected me. It was with great surprise when I received the letter inviting me to step in for a six month period while Lithcomb took
a leave of absence to attend an ailing family member. I jumped at the opportunity. The trip to Denver had already been planned and I couldn't cancel it. I'd gone to solidify my American relationships and the possibilities of attaining a position with a university there.

  When my exhausted eyes landed on Piper sitting in the front row, I nearly staggered to my knees. She was one of the reasons I didn't sleep. Now I had a completely different problem on my hands. I had kicked myself in the ass all night for initiating that little deal on the plane. The feel of her slick skin under my fingers and the way she’d responded to me, only made me want more. And fuck my life. Looking at her sitting there, in my damn class, was like watching my life detonate. Would this shit ever stop happening to me?

  I recovered from seeing her, located my notes, and went over the class syllabus for my students. My expectations may be slightly different from what they were used to, but I was confident I could teach them what they required. Before I realized it, the bell rang.

  “Miss West, I'd like to see you in my office.”

  I gathered my things and left, not waiting for her. With long strides, I chewed up the distance between the lecture hall and my office. I fumbled to unlock the door and barely made it inside before she came waltzing in behind me.

 

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