SEVEN NIGHTS
By Kristin Daniels
Seven Nights
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Seven Nights Copyright © 2016 Kristin Daniels
Cover art by Kristin Daniels
Electronic book publication February, 2016
This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Kristin Daniels.
Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. 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. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
Dedication
To my mom, who, without knowing it, taught me to never hesitate when it came to seeking out my dreams, to reach for the stars with all my gusto, and to always be true to myself. This life we’re given can either be short or long, or both at the very same time. Dementia might’ve taken her away from me too soon, but she’ll forever be with me in my heart.
Acknowledgment
Huge thanks to Jim Summers, Captain of the Fat Jax, Pensacola Shark Fishing, for his palpable passion, for his in-depth and vivid answers to my many (many!) questions, and for his willingness to help out this shark-fishing neophyte. Our back and forth emails were a pleasure, Jim.
Chapter One
A woman on a mission, that was Riley Watson.
She’d spent the last eight hours learning about cutting-edge treatments and diagnoses for tears to the meniscus of the knee. The first half of the day was informative and actually interesting, but the afternoon session had quickly become a rehashing of the morning program, thanks so much to stupid-question-guy. Every conference she’d ever been to had one and this time wasn’t the exception. By three o’clock, an annoying tic had developed in her eye. By four, an impatient itch inside her chest quickly morphed into an overwhelming desire to grab the guy by his tie and use it as a gag so he couldn’t talk anymore. And by five? Well, by then she’d been grinding her teeth so hard and for so long simply trying to stay put in her chair, she honestly wasn’t sure which aggravation would make her lose her mind first—the ache in her jaw or her beyond-worn-out patience.
As a physician’s assistant, she’d been sent to this conference by the director at the clinic where she worked. She’d learned a handful of new techniques, listened to countless spiels on up-and-coming drug therapies and typed out pages worth of notes on her iPad in the last three days. To say she was glad it was the last night of the conference seemed like a vast understatement. She’d never been so ready for a cocktail and some desperately needed down time in her life. And as she wormed her way through the hotel’s still-packed atrium and headed straight for her new favorite place—a dimly lit pub tucked away at the far end of the lobby—she honestly wasn’t looking for anything more than an opportunity to unwind.
Even so, a flutter raced through her stomach when the bartender—the one she secretly hoped would be here tonight—greeted her with a double-take the instant she walked in.
“Well, well,” he said with a smile before he tilted his head seductively to the side. “Isn’t this a treat. I didn’t think I’d get to see you again. Most everyone else I talked to said they were cutting out early to spend a little time on the beach before they had to leave.”
Wasn’t it funny how a simple smile and just the right words could alter a person’s perspective? In the span of a finger snap, her thoughts sparked with a few naughty ideas and she went from wanting this night to be over to wondering where it might actually end up.
“Not me.” As she hopped onto the barstool, she hooked her purse and the convention bag onto the back and swung her legs around to face front. “Being the trooper I am, I decided to stick the workshops out until the end. Fun in the sun comes after,” she said.
“I’d have to say it’s my lucky day, then.”
Her cheeks warmed at the flattery and she prayed the sultry mood lighting inside the pub would hide their pinkness. She didn’t usually blush this easily. That she reacted with such an evident display spoke to how effortlessly this guy drew her in—even if she didn’t know his name or anything else about him. She bit back the urge to fan herself with her fingers and instead propped her elbows on the edge of the bar and began massaging circles into her jaw, feeling not quite edgy, but hmm…restless, maybe.
That was when he sauntered through the door. Garrett W., his name tag read. She knew that not because she could read it from across the room now, but because she’d been staring at this particular hunk of man along with the masculine handwritten script on his name tag for a good portion of today’s never-ending workshops.
Talk about your lucky days…
Mr. Bartender slipped a napkin across the bar in front of her just as Garrett claimed the stool kitty-corner from her. He sat close but not too close. Stopping mid-massage, she instead folded her arms and crossed her legs with a teasing, slow-motion sensuality, determined to play the entire situation utterly cool.
Garrett, a hot-shot drug company rep, had shown up for today’s meeting to tout his corporation’s latest and greatest anti-inflammatory injections. She’d meant to meander her way over to chat with him during one of their breaks, but she hadn’t wanted to interrupt the quiet conversation she spotted him having with the petite blonde from a St. Louis treatment center right before the afternoon session. They’d been sitting together earlier in the day and it was quite apparent that the magnetic Mr. Garrett W. admired the tight pink sweater Ms. St. Louis filled out. His obvious appreciation made Riley do a mental rummage through her closet at home, wondering if she owned anything similar that might catch his eye in the same way.
Lord, she wished she could pinpoint exactly what it was about this man that got to her. It was something more than his powerful charisma, even more than his enticing good looks. She loved his dominating presence just as much as she loved his dark, wavy hair and his equally dark, piercing eyes. And his smile. Good God, his smile. Simply breathtaking.
And okay, in all fairness she’d admit that maybe a quick cocktail wasn’t exactly what she really needed right now.
“What can I get for you?” the bartender asked her.
She threw him a charming smile, but the show wasn’t so much for him as it was for the sexy man to her left. She could feel Garrett watching her and her entire body buzzed at the thrill. “In celebration of this exhausting convention finally being over, I’m thinking I should try something different. Something fun. Any suggestions?”
Mr. Bartender was hot in a Chippendales kind of way, and he knew it too, if the way he licked his lips while giving her the once-over was any indication. Then again, maybe it was his blond, beach-bum good looks or the form-fitting black shirt with the white bow tie and matching cuff links that reminded her of the gorgeous dancers. Or the way he entranced her with just a single glance when she stopped in for a cup of coffee after lunch like she did today or for a quick glass of wine before a group of them headed out to dinner. They’d not really spoken other than some innuendo-laced chitchat when she had placed an order, but oddly enough, she’d grown accustomed to seeing him here.
He met her
smile with a provocative one of his own and she nearly melted in her seat. “I make a killer chocolate martini. Or maybe you’d like something more tropical? Like a little Sex on the Beach?”
The offer really could’ve been for the actual drink, but the fact they were cozied up in a convention resort’s bar in Destin, Florida, along with the way he leaned in and lowered his eyelids as he oozed the suggestion had her seriously doubting that. She waggled her finger and chuckled. “Sand gets in too many hard-to-reach places. Besides…”
“Evan,” he offered when she paused. “Evan Tucker.”
“Evan Tucker.” She smiled gently. “Well Evan, I’m much more of a chocoholic. That martini sounds like it’d be right up my alley.”
He straightened, and this time when he smiled, he tossed a wink in too. “Ah, you don’t know what you’re missing out on. But just in case you’re wondering—” He stopped to peek at her name tag. Heat sizzled over her breasts when his gaze lingered a bit as he did so. “Riley. The offer stands. I’ll be here for at least another half-hour.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she replied with a wispy exhale and a wink of her own even as she slid her gaze toward Garrett, who simply shook his head and laughed. “Did I say something funny?” That she failed miserably at masking her grin as she asked the question wasn’t too much of a surprise.
Garrett ran a hand through his hair and she melted all over again. The strands looked so thick. Silky. Really soft.
“Nope, not a thing. I just enjoy being right every now and then.”
“Right? About?”
“You. I had you pegged for a flirt since I first laid eyes on you.”
A flirt, huh? She supposed she was one since she learned to love the excitement a little sexual banter created between a man and a woman. The same sexual banter she wanted to get into with these two men.
She shrugged a moment later, just as her chocolate-swirled martini was placed in front of her. “I’ve discovered that a little harmless flirting is good for the soul.”
“Amen to that,” Evan muttered in her direction as he moved on to Garrett. “And for you, sir?”
Garrett never broke his stare with her. The rush his attention created made her very aware of her suddenly over-active heart rate.
“I’ll have a martini as well. But make mine top shelf and dirty. Up, with three olives.”
Evan nodded. “You got it.”
She lifted one eyebrow. “Dirty?”
Garrett blessed her with another heart-melting look. “Yeah, it’s the way I like most things in my life lately. A little dirty. Somewhat rough around the edges. You know, not so typical.”
She could certainly understand that. Life was short and there was only one ride on the merry-go-round, so why not enjoy what you got into for as long as you were able? “Spoken like a man who goes after what he wants.”
“I’ve been known to.”
“I’ll just bet,” she quipped, and then sipped on her drink. The decadent concoction slid down her throat and warmed a sugar-coated path straight to her stomach. Oh, this could be dangerous. Too dangerous. Just one and she’d be infringing on her keep-her-wits-about-her limit.
“What a day, huh?”
She set the martini back onto the bar, licked away a bead of chocolate and looked up to find two sets of eyes ogling her. Well, ogling her lips, really.
It was Garrett who asked her the question, but the way he focused on her mouth and then trailed his gaze lower to her neckline told her he couldn’t care less about her answer. Feeling a tad powerful, hell, maybe even a little mischievous, she sat straighter and casually arched her back to thrust her assets forward. Hey, she could certainly play the game, too.
“It’s been interesting, to say the least.”
When the two men glanced at each other and shared one of those holy hell looks, she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. Things hadn’t always been this way for her and she had to admit she loved the jolt enjoying a little appreciation from the opposite sex gave her.
So far, her thirties had been pretty good to her. She finally felt comfortable in her skin—confident and sure of who she was—which led to new opportunities and even more open doors. There was something to be said for figuring out the person she truly was on the inside and knowing that person well enough to be honest about what she wanted.
Or in her case tonight, who she wanted.
Times two.
A small group of resort guests bustled into the bar just as Garrett and Evan seemed to gather their faculties about them. Evan shot her another wink before heading toward the new arrivals and Garrett took complete advantage of the other man having to go back to work. He didn’t waste any time trading barstools to sit next to her.
A second after he lifted his martini and took a breath to say something, a rowdy country song blared from the juke box in the corner. Perfect timing, she mused. The music was so loud he’d have to snuggle in even closer to talk.
Which, of course, he did.
“Here’s to the perfect ending of an otherwise ordinary convention,” he said close to her ear.
He leaned back slowly but the moist heat where his breath had brushed her neck lingered on. They touched glasses and sipped and she knew from experience it wouldn’t take much to lose herself in the depths of the dark eyes suddenly staring her down.
They sat in silence for a moment, each gauging the other with alluring grins and a more obvious perusal. He wasn’t overly tall, five-ten or so, but sexy as hell. Hair the color of midnight with a slight wave running through it had her fingertips itching to explore the texture. His lips were full and the perfect shade of dark pink—so smooth and downright kissable.
Bulging muscles over his chest and across his shoulders led to a set of impressive biceps, every inch not-so-hidden under a crisp white button-down. With the sleeves rolled up to below his elbows, she was treated to a nice view of his forearms, complete with a light dusting of hair and several thick, ropy veins.
She bit back a strangled sigh. Oh, how she loved the feel of strong, powerful arms—ones exactly like those—wrapped around her and holding on tight.
He lifted his drink to his lips again and shifted on the barstool, which only drew her attention lower. His waist was thin, tapered, and her mouth watered when she pictured the dips and valleys of sculpted abs waiting just beneath the soft cotton. When he settled against the seat back in that classic spread-legged man-pose, her insides spun in a whoa baby free-for-all. The dark silk of his dress pants didn’t do a thing to conceal his nice-sized package or the pair of hard, taut thighs just a little farther down.
Her stomach continued its flutter when his inspection of her was just as thorough. The conference had been deemed business-casual, but she always loved to dress up. Today she chose a powder-blue collared blouse, somewhat satiny and probably buttoned one button too low. Not that her cleavage would stop traffic, but she liked showing off what she had. She had tucked the blouse into her short, black pencil skirt and finished the whole ensemble off with a cute silver link belt and a pair of killer Manolo pumps.
To hell with tight pink sweaters and the like, she thought. By Garrett’s visible appreciation, she knew the choices she made while getting dressed this morning were certainly working to her advantage now.
Evan made his rounds behind the bar and stopped once he reached them again. He handed over menus and said, “Either of you hungry?”
This time she couldn’t hold back her laugh. Hungry was a perfect description, yet food wasn’t what she needed to satisfy this newfound craving. And from the raw energy circling her and Garrett and now zipping around to include Evan, she’d have to guess these two men would agree with her on that. God, the sexual tension sparking between the three of them was almost palpable.
She skimmed the late-night menu anyway, if for nothing else than to give herself a moment to calm yet another wave of heat flooding her cheeks. With every smoky glance or flawlessly worded innuendo these men deli
vered, each cell in her body was standing up and taking notice. She loved the rush that gave her, but at the same time she wasn’t in any hurry. She wanted to slow down to savor each and every moment.
“Um, I think I’ll have the shrimp cocktail.”
Evan brushed her hand when he took back the menu. “Perfect choice.”
The skin over her knuckles warmed right along with her nipples and she knew she was moving into point-of-no-return territory here. Question was, could she handle going from this transparent sexual banter into full-blown come and get me mode?
Lust and desire was one thing. Actually taking that extra step into reality was entirely another.
But something in her brain couldn’t shake the idea of having these men all to herself. That particular fantasy—the one of her tangled, sweaty and writhing between two hard, male bodies—had lived in the back of her mind for so long. And now, faced with the possibility of transforming such a fantasy into reality? Well, it seemed almost surreal.
Yet surreal or not, she kept tossing that one ride on the merry-go-round around in her head and ultimately made the decision. For the first time in her life, she was going to go for it. She was going to play the game. She was going to up the innuendo and dive into the sensuality of it all, headfirst. For once she was going to do what she wanted to do, simply because she wanted to do it.
A freeing excitement took hold then, along with a stutter in her breath and a spreading warmth throughout her body.
Oh yeah, this was going to be so much fun.
“Let’s mix it up some,” Garrett said, handing back his own menu. “I’ll have the appetizer sampler. And make the wings the spicy ones.”
Evan nodded with a “Coming up” and entered their order into the computer behind the bar.
“Big appetite?” she asked.
Garrett shrugged. “It’s late and I’m starving. Besides,” he said in a lower voice, “I’m sure I can find somebody to share with me.”
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