One Night Only Read online

  My knees buckle.

  He wraps his arms around the backs of my thighs and moves me to the bed, whispering in my ear and pressing kisses to the column of my throat. “That’s it, baby. You’ll come for me soon.”

  I tremble as he moves back down to between my thighs. My clit, so sensitive now, reacts immediately to the touch of his tongue. I cry out.

  “So good,” he murmurs. Then he works one fingertip into my pussy, softly scraping the inside of my channel with it. It’s good, but not quite good enough. He adds a second finger, and I moan, grabbing a fistful of his hair, past caring whether it might sting him.

  He laughs softly, so obviously he’s fine. I grind against those fingers, move against that tongue, searching for release. Maybe I shouldn’t. Maybe I should wait to come until he’s inside me, but I can’t stop. And he doesn’t want me to. He looks up at me intently, those dark eyes a storm of lust. “Come,” he commands.

  I’m only too happy to comply. But… “What about you?” I ask.

  He smirks. “You’ll come again,” he promises. Then he seals his mouth over my clit and sucks gently, and reason is forgotten. I’m whining, begging for release. He obliges, adding a third digit and finger-fucking me senseless.

  I move to meet each thrust of his palm, every flick of his tongue. I know I sound like a woman possessed. Please, yes. Oh, God, yes. Fuck, yeah. But I can’t stop. I can feel myself clamp around his fingers, my clit pulsing against his tongue. In that moment, I would do anything for him, and I barely know him.

  I don’t even know his name.

  Finally, he takes off my shoes, since he’s still between my legs, then he moves upward and strips off my dress. He gazes appreciatively at my bra. It is a rather pretty one, a lacy black number that I love wearing with this particular outfit. But I’d like it better if it was off at this point. I move to unhook it, and the look in his eyes can only be described as worshipful.

  He reaches out and palms my breasts lightly. I suck in my breath. “Perfect,” he murmurs. “You’re absolutely perfect.” He lowers his head. Teases my nipple between his teeth, working it just enough to send a ripple of pain shooting through my breast. I gasp, pull at his hair, but before I can blink, he’s soothing the hurt with soft, swirling strokes of his tongue.

  Now that I think about it, it didn’t hurt that much. And every lick of his tongue goes straight to my clit. When he bites my nipple again, my hips launch off the mattress. It’s as if there’s an invisible line connecting my tits to my pussy. I almost orgasm.

  He laughs against my breast. “Not yet.”

  “Soon, though, right?” I wrap my fingers around his girth, stroking slowly, teasingly upward. I place his tip right at my channel, rubbing it against the hot wetness. There’s no mistaking my meaning.

  I want his cock inside me. Now.

  “No. Not soon. I’m not done playing with you yet. Besides, we haven’t finished discovering what you like.”

  “I like this.” I palm his cock with a little more force, using my own pussy juice as lube.

  He rises to his knees. Flips me on my stomach, as easily as though I was a feather. Sweeps my hair to the side and presses a kiss to the back of my neck. I shiver uncontrollably, grinding my hips into the mattress.

  “You like a little pain with your pleasure, I think.” He rubs the flat of his palm all over my ass, over both cheeks, down the sides to my hips. The pace of his touch is getting a little feverish.

  And I think I’m going to shatter. Because I know what he’s working up to. And the longer he waits, the more I feel like I’m going to die of want. “Please,” I murmur.

  “I’m not sure I heard you,” he says gruffly, never letting up with his frenzied pace. He adds both hands into the mix, and I feel his left hand caressing my spine.

  “Please,” I say more loudly. I’m begging now, and I don’t care. Actually, it feels pretty damned delicious to beg this man to deliver me sweet relief.

  His hands slow, and I want to scream in frustration. “You’ll have to be more specific, Ren.” His voice is dangerous.

  “I need you to spank me,” I gasp.

  He gives a low chuckle. “That’s all I wanted,” he says. Those hands ramp up again, both of them on my ass now. Then he grips my left cheek and swats the other with a deft, sharp stroke. It stings, but not too much.

  It hurts perfectly.

  He immediately moves to soothe the hurt, his palms roving over me again. I lift my ass in the air, knowing it’s red, wanting it to be redder. He snaps my left cheek this time, and I call out, “Yes! Like that. Just like that.”

  When he told me we’d figure out what I wanted together, who knew this was where we’d wind up?

  Chapter Four

  If I don’t stop soon, I’m going to come all over this woman’s ass.

  And while I’d love every second of that, it wouldn’t exactly be the memorable evening I’d planned for her.

  I had a suspicion she would enjoy pushing boundaries, and I wasn’t wrong.

  Her hands are gripping the headboard, and she’s fucking the mattress, seeking release as I alternate punishing licks and soothing strokes. That won’t do. I flip her over, onto her back. Her pupils are dilated, her face flushed. It occurs to me that I could look at this face every day for the rest of my life, and never grow tired of it. But it’s a mute point, because after tomorrow, she’s going to hate me with as much passion as she lusts after me right now.

  And no matter how wrong it might be that I haven’t told her I’m the asshole, I’d do it all over again, just to have this one night with her.

  She gives me a hazy smile, and I can’t help but smile back. “I think you may have just surprised yourself,” I say.

  “What other surprises do you have in store for me?” Those siren’s lips curl seductively, and I can’t decide whether I’d rather have them locked around my cock, or hear them moaning with pleasure while I fuck her senseless.

  I decide on the latter. Knowing I have only this one night with her, I want to make it last. And I’m no saint. If she wraps her mouth around me, I’m finished.

  I look into her eyes. I want her to know this means something to me. She’ll have trouble believing that after tomorrow, but if I can just get her to really see me, maybe a small corner of her brain will remember this moment when she feels the utter shock of betrayal.

  I don’t stop looking into her eyes as I enter her. Slowly, tenderly. I’m a big guy. That’s fact, not hubris. I want her to adjust to my size. But it’s not easy to dial it back. My animal instincts take over, and the urge to pound into her is almost unbearable. She’s soft. Wet. Tight. In short, a fantasy come to life. The moan that escapes her when I bury myself in her is the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.

  But I struggle against those instincts, starting with shorter strokes, because I want this to last.

  Ren wraps her legs around me and nudges me forward, pushes my cock all the way inside her. Her breath hitches as I plunge into her. I fight for balance as I nearly topple over, splaying my fists into the mattress on either side of her stomach.

  I guess she has other plans.

  Chapter Five

  Oh my God. I need to feel the entire length of him pounding into me. Wild and frenzied. A groan tears out of him as he slides into me. “Don’t hold back,” I say. I tighten the grip of my legs around his waist.

  “You don’t know what you’re asking,” he says. But his strokes become deeper, his pace quicker. He tilts his hips upward, and I feel his cock scrape along the most sensitive spot of my channel.

  “I know just what I’m asking for.” And as he rubs against my G-spot, I realize he’s the only man who can give it to me. His face is burrowed in my neck, his concentration evident. He’s working so hard to hit that one spot, to give me pleasure. I snag the tip of his ear in my teeth.

  “I said not to hold back.”

  I move my hips, until he’s forced to sink deeper. I set a rhythm, not allowing him to slow. Soo
n enough, he’s caught up in it, and he’s pounding into me with long, hard strokes that I can feel in every corner of my body. I want to call out his name, but I realize I don’t know it. Now’s not the time to ask. I hold tight to his arms and revel in every thrust, every drop of sweat that falls from his brow onto my neck and breasts. I’m so full, so heavy, so stretched, just one touch of my clit would send me into the atmosphere.

  “I’m coming, Ren.” He shudders. I reach between us and lightly finger myself. One touch is all it takes, and I’m exploding, clinging to him as he drives into me, calling my name. I can feel him pulsing into me. He never lifts his head from my neck, and I can’t begin to describe how sexy it is to have him saying my name in my ear.

  I tighten my legs around him, hugging him to me. His orgasm’s over, but he’s still inside me. That’s fine. I don’t want him to go anywhere. I trail my fingers through his hair.

  I think I’d give anything for this moment to last forever.

  Chapter Six

  She’s ruined me for other women. Which is problematic, because after tomorrow morning, she’ll never speak to me, let alone consent to make love to me again. She’s already drifting off to sleep, a sweep of her dark hair cascading over her shoulder.

  I should tell her to go. It will only make this more painful later. But I want her to stay. I don’t want just her passion. I want her contentment, too. Honestly, I want both for the rest of my life. I’ve just met her, but I can say that with certainty. I brush my lips across her collarbone, already a favorite spot. She murmurs, but I can’t understand the words. Her eyes flutter open. “Should I go?” she asks. I hate the uncertainty in her voice.

  “Stay.” Maybe I sound a touch too forceful, but that’s fine, so long as she understands the point. I want her. Now. Tomorrow. Forever.

  She smiles. Reaches out and rubs the stubble on my cheek. “Just how tired are you?” I ask.

  “Not tired at all,” she lies.

  “Good,” I murmur, nudging away any guilt I feel at keeping her awake, when I know she has a presentation she cares deeply about in the morning. I have only this one night with her. I want to make the most of it.

  I kiss those gorgeous lips. They’re no less enticing without the scarlet lipstick, probably even better in their natural state. Tomorrow I’ll wake up to find her lipstick stains on my T-shirt, and I can’t wait.

  Her mouth opens for me, and I dive in, holding her to me. I wonder if she can feel it, that this isn’t just sex to me. I need her to know it. “I want you to remember tonight, Ren,” I murmur against her skin, trailing my mouth down her neck. She shivers. I nip playfully at the column of her throat, and her grip on my waist tightens.

  “Of course I’ll remember it,” she says. “You’re a pretty memorable guy.”

  It’s not what I mean, but how’s she to know that? What I want to say is, When you’re thinking about how much you hate me, think about this moment instead, and how I really care for you.

  But I can’t dwell on this, because she’s still here. While I have Ren in my arms, I intend to make the most of it.

  I roll her nipples between my thumb and forefingers, alternating the pressure. First soft, then harder. She begins to whimper softly. I increase the tension as her moans become more insistent.

  “Come for me again, Renata.”

  She gasps. “I told you, no one calls me that.”

  “When you’re coming, I’ll call you what I want.”

  I realize it sounds as if there will be countless more opportunities for us to be together, when after tomorrow I’ll likely never see her again.

  Keeping my fingers on one of her breasts, I reach down and plunge two fingers inside her. She rides them, her pupils dilating, her breath coming in shorter and shorter gasps.

  I pluck relentlessly at each nipple, alternating back and forth, treating them as if they’re two ripe clits. She tightens around my fingers, her orgasm close. She’s moaning incoherently, and I want to give her a name to utter as she shatters in my arms.

  But I can’t. All I can do is revel in the sounds she makes, the sensation of her sweet pussy clenching around my fingers.

  But in that moment, as she unravels in my arms, I vow this won’t be the last time it happens.

  Chapter Seven

  I didn’t want to leave him. I wanted to stay. Maybe make love a few more times. A hundred more times. But I couldn’t. Not just because I needed to drag myself back to my own hotel room to snag what few hours of sleep remain to me before my alarm rings, but also because I need to get over my burgeoning addiction sooner rather than later. It does no use to dwell on how gorgeous this man is, how amazing he is in bed.

  I left him sleeping, hopefully satisfied.

  He was only mine for the night. Not mine for the future. Not even for tomorrow.

  I guess today, technically. I shower and dress, careful not to get my hair wet so I can refresh my salon blowout. It received some wear and tear last night, but after working some magic with the dry shampoo and a few swipes of my large-barrel brush, it looks as good as new.

  I sip at my espresso, brought by room service, while I apply my make-up with care. I decide against my preferred scarlet for my lips, choosing an understated peach instead. I don my black Chanel suit, courtesy of the same second-hand store that provided the Jimmy Choos.

  Hair and make-up? Check. Suit lint-free? Stockings without runs? Check and check.

  More importantly, presentation and blueprints ready? Absolutely. Brain screwed on straight? Mostly. And whatever part of it that isn’t is still under the effects of mind-blowing sex. A heady afterglow that I don’t experience often enough.

  Maybe it will help me give a more enthusiastic presentation.

  My nerves are too jumpy—my stomach can’t handle more than a few bites of the frittata I ordered with the espresso, so I pass it up as a lost cause and make my way out the door.

  It’s a quick cab ride to Simmons Corporation’s new suite of offices. They’re located on the top floor of a pretty glitzy piece of Chicago real estate. Walter’s only renting this space, but he’s fortunate to have secured the location. He owns his other properties, considering it an investment. It’s a smart idea, since he earns additional income from the businesses who pay him rent.

  I take the elevator up twenty-six floors and greet Walter warmly. He’s waiting for me in the foyer. However this turns out, he’s still a person I respect. A friend. Even if he doesn’t choose my designs, I hope we can work together again on future projects.

  “Ren! Good to see you.” He shakes my hand warmly, asking after my business, my health, my cat, and even my Nonna, whom he’s never met, but knows I’m very close to. I ask how Melly, his wife, is doing. Immediately, his smile widens and his eyes brighten.

  “She’s fantastic! She told me to pass along her greetings. I can’t tell you how much she enjoys the spaces you created for us here in the city and out on the island.”

  What would it be like to be that much in love? To be treasured so much that, even after forty years, your husband’s grin still threatens to crack his cheeks when he thinks about you? For one crazy, hopeless second, I think of the stranger from last night. I’ll never see him again, and I won’t lie to myself and say that doesn’t sting. Will that guy ever marry? Ever look at a woman that way? I knew him only for a couple of hours, and he treated me like I was a perfect treasure. How would he treat his wife, the woman of his dreams?

  I suddenly feel a little queasy. Thankfully, Walter rescues me from my thoughts as we walk toward the conference room. “I was thrilled to snag this piece of real estate,” he says. “An on-line newspaper, now defunct, used it for their headquarters previously, and I don’t think they had much of a budget to make it hospitable for their employees. As you can see, the interior leaves much to be desired.”

  Does it ever. Brown carpets older than I am. Drop ceiling with tiles missing. Walls, once white, now peeling and yellowed. I see what it could be, though. We’ll repla
ce the drop ceiling, best left for basements, with skylights. We’re on the top floor after all. I already checked the building’s structural designs, and no load-bearing beams would have to be removed to expose the roof.

  Then there’s the cubicles. So passé. My fingers itch to…

  Relax, girl.

  I don’t have the job yet, and I’m likely not going to get it, no matter how amazing my designs are.

  We reach the conference room, and Walter gestures to the chair at the head of the conference table. “Let me introduce you to Lucas Fields. I know he’s the competition for this bid, but he’s also a friend of mine. I hope there’s no hard feelings between the two of you, regardless of how this plays out.”

  My nemesis is in that chair. I brace myself, putting a smile on my face as he swivels around. Nonna raised me with manners, after all. But then we make eye contact, and it takes every ounce of willpower I possess not to shout. Not to pick up the urn of coffee on the table and hurl it at his perfect face. Or better yet, launch myself across the table and stab him with the stiletto heel of my Jimmy Choo.

  The man who was fucking me senseless a few hours ago is now staring levelly at me from across the room. The asshole. The architect with impossibly deep pockets. And apparently, a competitor with no soul.

  Lucas Fields.

  “Renata is a gifted interior designer,” Walter says. “She designed our house as well as our summer house on Mackinac Island.”

  Lucas’ gaze is impenetrable. He rises, walks over to me. Extends his hand. I barely restrain myself from recoiling. Realize I need to get my shit together and be as good an actor as he is.

  I grasp his hand, and I hate myself for the tingle of awareness that jolts through me at his touch.

  “Good luck,” he says. For a moment, I think there’s a pleading expression in his eyes, but it’s probably my imagination. It’s gone. In its place is a look of icy reserve. He walks out of the room, and I can’t help but admire how the expensive grey suit he’s wearing clings to his shoulders and thighs.