Casual Encounter Vol. 1

by M. S. Parker

  “I think I better take you home.” He chuckled and I felt the vibration against my palms.

  I started to shake my head and then decided that probably wasn't a good idea; I was dizzy enough. With my luck, I'd completely lose my balance or throw up. Possibly both.

  “Or maybe I should take you back to my place.” He cupped the side of my face and his touch was enough to jar me out of a completely drunken stupor.

  I jerked back, barely catching myself. “I don't think that's a good idea.” My eyes caught something behind his half-empty glass of bourbon. More of those little stir sticks, and I was pretty sure his drinks hadn't come with them. Had he intentionally been getting me drunk?

  Before I could confront him about my suspicions, he'd closed the short distance between us and was reaching for my wrist.

  “I think you're in no condition to decide what's best for you.” He grinned again, but there was something darker about that smile than there had been earlier. “Let's go.”

  I glanced toward the bartender, but he was at the other end of the bar, thoroughly engrossed in a conversation. I didn't know what to do. I wasn't exactly sure how much danger I was in. Maybe he wanted me to go with him because he was going to take me to Mindy's since they lived in the same building. Something in my gut said I was being naïve... well, stupid actually. But would it be an overreaction if I screamed? I didn't want to go with him, but I didn't want to be the girl who freaked out on a blind date.

  My alcohol-soaked brain couldn't process the information quickly enough and Steven managed to pull me several steps before I began to struggle. Well, it was more like I yanked my arm but got absolutely nowhere.

  “Let me go.” I tried to make my voice as firm as possible. “I'll take a cab home.”

  “I think it's better you come with me.” Steven's fingers tightened around my wrist.

  Before I could decide if now was a good time to scream, a tall, broad body inserted itself between Steven and me, forcing him to let me go.

  “I believe the lady said she wanted to take a cab.” A deep voice rumbled.

  I rubbed my wrist as I looked up at my white knight. I was tall, over five-ten in heels, but this man towered over me. He had to be at least six-five, six-six, and solid muscle from the looks of him. Blue-black curls that had that 'just fucked' tousled look that I'd always secretly loved.

  “Fuck off,” Steven snarled. “This isn't any of your business.”

  The stranger looked down at me and I found myself staring into a pair of intelligent dark gray eyes. “Miss, do you want your date here to take you home or would you prefer I called you a cab?”

  I opened my mouth to answer, but never got the chance to get a word out because Steven grabbed the man's arm and attempted to turn him around. I saw those gray eyes darken and then he was moving himself, gracefully sidestepping as Steven attempted to throw a punch. Somehow, the stranger managed to keep me behind him, out of harm's way, as Steven cursed, stumbled, and then tried again.

  This time, when the stranger moved, he gave Steven a little push that sent my date slamming into the bar with enough force to make him slump to the ground. He wasn't unconscious, but he didn't look like he was going to be getting up anytime soon.

  My mysterious savior turned back to me and gave me a hard smile. “Some people don't understand the proper way to treat a lady.” He held out his hand. “Let me help you get home safely.”

  Common sense said that it'd be just as crazy to go with this stranger as it would've been to go with Steven, but I could barely think clearly. I needed home and bed. I nodded and slid my hand into his. Warmth spread through my palm and fingers from where they touched him and I wondered if he felt the same way. Probably not. He was probably holding my hand to lead me through the bar and make sure I didn't pass out or something like that.

  He flagged down a cab with ease, then surprised me by sliding into the back seat with me. He looked at me expectantly, and then asked, “Address?”

  “Oh, right.” I flushed and rattled off my address.

  The stranger leaned forward to speak to the cabbie, but I didn't listen. I was concentrating on not blacking out or throwing up, which took more concentration than one would think. When the stranger settled back in his seat, I found myself staring at him, focusing on using my eyes to trace his strong jawline and high cheekbones. He was a perfect balance between pretty and masculine, the kind of guy that pretty much every straight woman or gay man would find at least moderately attractive. Not that I could figure out why anyone would think this man was anything less than smoking hot.

  He looked down at me then and I saw the corners of his mouth twitching. Apparently, he found the fact that I was staring at him to be funny. I probably should've been insulted by that, but I couldn't do anything except wonder what his lips would feel like against mine. Against my throat. My breasts. My pussy throbbed at the thought of that sinfully delicious mouth tasting it.

  “We're here.” He opened the cab door and a gust of wind snapped me from my fantasy.

  I scowled and climbed out of the cab, taking his hand again so I didn't fall. I looked up at my apartment and was struck with the sudden desire to ask my rescuer if he wanted to come up so I could properly thank him.

  “Are you okay to get up there all right?” His expression was one of concern.

  “I'll be fine.” My head was still blurry, but clear enough to know what the smart thing to do was. Certain lower regions of my body disagreed, but I didn't let them make the decisions. “Thank you for your help tonight.”

  “It was my pleasure, Miss.” He bent over the hand he was still holding and pressed his lips against the back of it.

  Well, shit. How was I supposed to not react to that?

  Knowing I'd blame it on the alcohol tomorrow, I threw my arms around my mystery man's neck and pulled his head down so that I could kiss him. I saw a moment of surprise and felt his body tense for a moment before his arms slid around my waist and he leaned into the kiss. His mouth softened, then he took control, changing what would have been a sloppy, drunken kiss to something else.

  His tongue parted my lips, twisting and curling around mine, drawing it into his mouth. When he sucked on it, I moaned and his hands flexed against my back, burning through the thin material of my shirt. His fingers brushed against the bare skin exposed at the base of my back and a part of me wished he'd take further liberties and explore. While his hands remained where they were, his tongue delved back into my mouth, thoroughly possessing every inch of me.

  Then, he was stepping back and my head was spinning for a whole new reason. Something bright passed across his eyes, then disappeared behind the polite compassion I'd seen before.

  “Have a good night, Miss.” He gave me a half-smile. “And pleasant dreams.”

  He waited until I was safely inside the building before he got back into the cab, but the cab didn't pull away until after I looked out the window of my apartment. How sweet! He’d waited to make sure I'd gotten inside safely. I sighed and smiled. If I had any luck, I'd have very pleasant dreams indeed.

  Chapter 5

  If I dreamt of my hot savior, I didn't remember. I did, however, remember with annoying clarity the events of the previous night. It seemed that I'd had enough alcohol to behave like an idiot and to have a massive, splitting headache, but not enough to make my memory too hazy. That sucked. If I had to suffer through the indignity of knowing I'd nearly fallen in the bar, been the cause of a fight and had then thrown myself at a total stranger, shouldn't I have at least gotten a reprieve on the hangover?

  I groaned as I forced one eye open. My curtains were drawn so the only light in the bedroom was my alarm clock, which was currently telling me that I'd slept at least three hours past my normal weekend wake up time of nine o'clock. It was times like this that I was glad I lived alone. There would be no one to shame me into attempting to function at the moment.

  I crawled out of bed and headed the few steps across the hall to my bathr
oom, pausing every second step or so to wait until everything stopped spinning before moving on. I downed a couple painkillers, drank a few wary sips of water and then slowly made my way back to bed. As I crawled under the covers, I noticed I'd managed to shower and put on pajamas last night, which was more than I'd expected. Granted, the pajamas were on backwards, but at least I was clothed.

  I debated the merits of fixing my pajamas but fell back asleep before I could make a decision. When I woke up again, the clock said it was a little past two. I knew I should probably eat something, but the idea of food didn't seem like a good thing at the moment. Based on my very few previous experiences with being hung over, I knew I'd probably feel up to something later tonight, but even the thought of eating right now was enough to make me gag. I'd made it through this whole thing without throwing up and I fully intended to keep it that way.

  I closed my eyes and tried to go back to sleep. Mindy would want a report of how things had gone, but I really didn't want to get into that right now. All I wanted was to sleep the rest of the weekend away and then bury myself in work come Monday.

  No, I realized, that wasn't the only thing I wanted. A pair of dark gray eyes danced behind my closed lids and they were quickly followed by those lips. I made a sound and pulled my blanket up against my face. That mouth. I could still feel it against mine, the way his lips had moved, how his tongue had explored every inch of my mouth.

  I'd kissed exactly five people in my entire life. Ronald, of course, but there had been four others. Jason Keller had given me my first kiss when I was eight and he'd been the older man at ten. I'd played Spin the Bottle the summer between eighth and ninth grade and my former boyfriend Timmy had stolen a kiss then. He'd moved away a few weeks later. My junior year of high school, I'd gone to a party and gotten drunk for the first time. Apparently, Adelle and I had kissed during a game of Truth and Dare. I wasn't sure that counted since I had little more than a fuzzy impression of it. And then there'd been Vincent Ryan, my high school crush, who'd given me a kiss after senior prom.

  Not a single kiss had even come close to the one I'd had with my knight in shining armor. I tried telling myself it was just because I really didn't have any good comparisons. After all, aside from Ronald, the other kisses had been when I was young and inexperienced. I snorted at the thought of myself as experienced now, then winced at the pain in my head.

  Youth had nothing to do with it. Ronald was an adult and I'd loved kissing him. He'd made me shiver with delight, but I'd never felt my knees turn to jelly when we'd kissed. It had been like that in bed too, I admitted for the first time. I didn't have anyone else to compare him to, but I knew there hadn't been the same kind of fire between us that other people had. Sure, I enjoyed having sex with him and he'd been a fairly considerate lover, but I'd never dreamed about him. Fantasized about him. I'd never felt the need to touch myself because I couldn't stop thinking about his hands on my body.

  Not like the hands I'd had on me last night.

  “Fuck,” I mumbled.

  I knew it probably wasn't a good idea, but I couldn't stop myself thinking about him. From the first moment I'd looked into his eyes, I'd felt desire heating me up. Then we'd kissed and it had been like fireworks or lightning or something else that had a burst of energy and light so strong that it was dangerous. I'd wanted to feel his hands on my bare skin. Running up my back. Cupping my breasts. His fingers between my legs, touching me.

  I sighed and flopped onto my back. The sudden movement wasn't a good idea, but it at least broke my train of thought for a moment. I closed my eyes and tried to fall back asleep, but my savior came creeping back in, bringing with him vague fantasies of his body and mine, writhing together in pleasure.

  I grabbed an extra pillow and pressed it against my face, letting out a cry of frustration. I had thin walls and the last thing I needed was one of my neighbors thinking I was in trouble and calling the cops.

  Why couldn't I stop thinking about him? I wanted to sleep away my hangover, forget about that disaster of a date and move on, but every time I tried to clear my mind enough to drift off, he came popping back in. What was it about him? Sure, he was hot, but so were a lot of people. I mean, Mr. Finkle, the biology teacher, had a certain bookish hotness to him, but he wasn't the one plaguing my thoughts. And it wasn't my ex-fiancé either.

  I caught my breath as I realized I’d passed a milestone. For the past two weeks, every thought of Ronald had brought with it pain and longing. Every time I'd used the words 'ex' and 'former,' it had been like a part of me being ripped out. Just now, when I'd thought about him, however, there'd only been a twinge and a pang of regret. Something had changed. Halle-fuckin-luiah.

  Had it been my decision to go on the blind date, signaling that I was trying to move on? That was possible, I supposed, but even when things had been going well at the beginning with Steven, I hadn't been able to truly see myself with someone other than Ronald. Was it possible that it had been my white knight? The fact that he'd rescued me, protected me? He'd done what Ronald had promised to do. And then there'd been the desire I'd felt for him, something so strong that I couldn't entirely blame it on the alcohol.

  That, I knew, had been the moment I'd first realized I could be with someone else. Without even telling me his name, the stranger had not only rescued me from Steven, but had started to free me from my past.

  I groaned in frustration. It so wasn't fair.

  My phone rang, the sound cutting through my head in a burst of bright, musical pain. I grabbed for it, not even bothering to look at the caller ID before answering.

  “Hey there!” Mindy's bubbly voice came from the other end. “I got tired of waiting for a report on how last night went. I'm hoping this means it went well and you didn't call me because you were too tired from all that hot, sweaty sex.”

  I scoffed, a bitter that sound that burst out of me in a huff. “Yeah, not so much.” I sighed and pushed myself into a sitting position. My head throbbed, but the bed didn't spin, so that was absolutely an improvement.

  “I don't understand.” Mindy sounded confused. “If you weren't with...” Her voice trailed off for a moment and then she growled. “I'm going to kill him.”

  It took me a few seconds to put two and two together, but I got it and didn't have to ask for clarification. It seemed like the walls in Mindy's building were fairly thin too and that Steven had found someone to take home after all.

  “Short version,” I said. “Steven was more interested in talking about himself and trying to get me drunk enough to get into my pants than he was in actually being on a date.”

  “That bastard.” She practically spit the words out and I knew she was seething.

  I smirked. No way was she going to let Steven off easy, especially after I gave her the long version. Mindy was creative when it came to revenge. She'd told me and Adelle about a girl who had once cheated on Mindy's little brother, stringing him along for months. Mindy had snuck into the girl's driveway and hid bits of sushi in her rims and under the hood of her Astin Martin. Rumor had it, the girl had to completely scrap the car because no one had been able to get the smell out.

  “Tell me everything.”

  I started at the beginning and went through all of it, including my own stupidity at drinking so much as well as my rescue, but when it came time to give the details of my stranger, I held back. I wasn't sure what I wanted to do about him and, for right now, I wanted to keep him all to myself. Once I shared him with Mindy, I'd have to share him with Adelle, and I didn't know how they'd react to me and my inability to stop thinking about my mystery man.

  “I am so sorry,” Mindy said as soon as I was finished. “I feel horrible. I'd always thought Steven was a good guy.”

  She continued to apologize for the next five minutes, occasionally promising to make him pay for what he'd done. I made appropriate noises in the right places and waited for the chance to end the call. I loved my friend, but I didn't want to talk. I wanted to be alone. There w
as wallowing to be done.

  I showered after I hung up, then wrapped myself in my comfy robe and headed to the kitchen for some crackers to calm my stomach. Ice cream was really better wallowing food, particularly when it came to bad dates, but I didn't think I was ready for that. Crackers would have to do for now. Tomorrow, it would be ice cream time.

  Ginger ale and crackers in hand, I headed for the couch. I curled up there, turned on the TV and let myself mope about how my love life sucked. If this had just been a single bad date, I might've just let myself have an hour or two of a pity party then moved on. But coming on the heels of my canceled wedding, it felt like a bigger rejection than it should have.

  Although, I supposed if I thought about it, what had happened hadn't technically been a rejection. Steven hadn't walked away or stood me up. Sure, he'd been an asshole, but at least he'd wanted me. I laughed out loud, unsurprised at the bitterness of the sound. What did it say about me that I attracted guys like Ronald and Steven? Okay, it hadn't been like Steven had picked me out of a crowd, but still.

  Did that mean my mystery man was just as much of a jerk as the others? Now there was a depressing thought. Someone who saved me, hadn't tried to take advantage of my vulnerable state, and had given me the best kiss of my life. Was it possible that it had all just been an act? I didn't want to think that. Somehow, that was worse than everything else.

  I'd been a hopeless romantic once, believing in fairy tale endings. Sure, I'd understood that relationships were work, but I always thought that true love would figure it out in the end. After Ronald left me, I'd tried to cling to that same idealistic way of thinking and having a handsome stranger come to my rescue had fueled that belief. Now, I wasn't sure anymore.