The ding of the elevator snapped us out of the moment, and he practically jumped to the other side of the small box to get away from me. The doors opened but the hallway was empty because the door, opposite the elevator, was for the sole penthouse suite on the floor. He stepped out first and I followed, feeling awkward again, and wondered why he dropped me like a hot potato when the doors opened. Sighing with confusion, I followed him, sharpening my resolve to not let his behavior bother me by repeating the mantra, “It’s just one night,” over and over in my head.
By the time we’d walked into the hotel room, I was firmly back on solid ground. The room was set up like an apartment. We entered into a small foyer, with a round table that contained a vase of fresh flowers. Beyond the foyer was a small sitting room and to its left, a full kitchen.
“What is this hotel?” I asked before I could stop myself.
“Just a hotel,” he answered with a scowl.
That wasn’t an answer but I didn’t press him further. We weren’t there to talk.
“The bedroom is this way, unless you’d like a drink first?” he said.
“I’ll have a drink,” I said quietly. I was feeling awkward again and needed more liquid courage.
He nodded and walked over to the small island in the kitchen where a bucket sat with a wine bottle in it. He uncorked it and poured some white wine into two waiting glasses before bringing them over to where I stood in the middle of the room. He handed me one and I gulped the wine down until I saw the look of shock on his face and slowed down.
“Thirsty?” he asked with a smirk and my face flushed.
I shook my head. “I’m a bit nervous,” I said honestly.
He frowned and nodded. I finished my wine, slowly, and set the glass down on the island. He set his glass down too, which I noticed he didn’t drink from at all, before grabbing my hand again. Butterflies assaulted my belly as he led me past the kitchen and down a small hallway to a room too large for a hotel, with a king-sized bed. He closed the door and locked it before turning to me again. Heat smoldered in his brown eyes and my stomach flip-flopped.
This was it, my first one-night stand. I didn’t have time to mull it over though because he glided across the room to where I stood, gripping me around the waist and hauling me against him so quickly I gasped. The sound was smothered with his mouth as his lips slammed into mine, and all other thoughts faded away with it as his tongue delved into my mouth and desire wrapped around us like a blanket. Everything was happening quickly and we were traveling towards the large bed before I could even wrap my arms around him. He tossed me back gently onto the bed before covering my body with his, pinning my arms above my head again with one of his hands.
He kissed me with fervor, urgently, as if I would slip away any moment, and my head was spinning with lust by the time he pulled away again. I watched him tear his shirt open, the buttons flying around the room as he ripped it open like the Hulk. It would have been comical if I wasn’t so turned on. I used the opportunity to pull my own flimsy top off and toss it away, feeling slightly self-conscious because I was now naked from the waist up. But he didn’t notice my embarrassment as his pants followed his destroyed shirt to the floor. For a moment, I admired his hard, caramel-colored skin as he stood before me, panting. My desire ratcheted up a notch as I stared at him naked before me.
Never had I felt so in need of a man, and I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or lust that was making me feel dizzy, but I had to lie back again from the intensity. He stripped off his boxer briefs before charging back to the bed, practically landing on top of me.
The glimpse I caught of his erection unnerved me due to the sheer size but I hid my anxiety. I wasn’t that experienced with men, having had only two sexual experiences prior to this, and those were in college. But I didn’t let inexperience damper my longing and I savored the feel of his bare chest against mine as he pressed me back into the mattress before covering my mouth with his again. My thoughts scrambled again from his kisses and he turned me to the side, his experienced fingers undoing my jeans as he pulled them off, while never breaking contact with my lips. He covered me again, only my flimsy lace underwear separating us, and I spread my legs as he settled between them, dampness seeping through the thin material.
“I want you, now,” he growled and reached between us to grip my panties before tearing them away.
The move turned me on even more in a primal way and I clawed at his ass to pull him back down against me. This time, when he settled between my legs, his erection found my entrance, which was slick and waiting for him, and he guided himself inside. I cried out with the contact, both from the size of him and the pleasure of him finally being inside of me after what seemed like such a long wait.
He began to move slowly, in and out, the friction against my clit making me writhe with need. He pulled back, almost all the way out of me, and I groaned with the loss. I didn’t miss it long because without warning, he slammed back inside of me. I threw my head back, calling out incoherently, as he did it again and again. My back bowed off the mattress and my nails clawed his back and ass as he thrust against me harder and faster.
The orgasm took me by surprise because it hit so quickly. One minute, it was a tiny sensation and the next, it tore through me, taking my breath away as his body slammed against mine. I cried out again, gripping him to me but he didn’t slow down. Instead, he continued to chase his own release, his dick lengthening inside of me, prolonging my orgasm, before he growled with completion and collapsed on top of me. We were both sweating and out of breath, and neither of us moved for what seemed like a very long time.
Suddenly, just as I was feeling groggy and wondering if it would be bad form to doze off, he pulled out and stood up. He turned away from me and bent down. I thought he was gathering his clothing but instead, he gathered mine and brought them to the bed. A pang of rejection gripped my chest but I tossed it aside with a shake of my head. I knew what this was and clearly, he did too—no strings and nothing more.
Taking the clothes from his outstretched hand, minus my destroyed underwear, I headed to the attached bathroom to clean myself up and get dressed. I took a moment to collect myself before attending to my needs and splashing water on my face. Mascara ran under my eyes and I wiped it away with a towel before drying the rest of my face. I tossed the used towel to the floor and pulled my clothes back on.
One last glance in the mirror left me with a grimace of disdain for my reflection. No makeup remained on my face and I looked pale and exhausted, dark rings starting to form under my eyes, which may or may not have been from the mascara and alcohol. I tried to ignore the shame that was creeping in. Women had one-night stands all the time, so why did I feel bad about it? I shook my head again at my foolishness and the reason for my embarrassment became clearer. The best sex of my life and it had been with a stranger. Shrugging, I exited the bathroom. There wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it at this point.
He wasn’t in the room when I came out of the bathroom and for a moment, I thought he left altogether. That would have been the icing on the cake. But he was waiting for me in the living room.
“I’ll have my driver bring you back to your car,” he mumbled, barely looking at me.
I nodded, unable to speak. For some reason, tears clogged my throat. I felt silly and stupid for the way I was reacting but it was clear then that I wasn’t cut out for one-night stands. Now I knew.
He followed me to the door but didn’t attempt to follow me out into the hall.
“He’s waiting downstairs for you,” he added, and I nodded again.
Something in his face had changed but I didn’t try to decipher it. It didn’t matter because I would never see him again, and the least I could do was be gracious about the time we spent together.
“I had a great time,” I said honestly, because it was the best sex I ever had and I wanted him to know it, even if we would never see each other again.
He hesitated for a minute,
then opened his mouth and closed it again, before finally speaking. “Me too.”
I didn’t say anything else, not wanting to taint the moment with more meaningless words. Instead, I turned away and headed to the elevator, stabbing the down arrow, and stepped in when the doors slid open. The last thing I saw before the doors closed was the look in his eyes. Their brown depths seemed to smolder the longer I looked at him. I averted my gaze to the floor as the doors closed, willing myself to forget about the beautiful mystery man I just had sex with at a hotel penthouse.
Acknowledgments
First and foremost thank you to my readers and new fans who gave me the opportunity to be able to continue to write and follow my dream of being a published author by taking a chance on someone new.
Thank you to my family, always, for supporting me, helping me come up with book titles, and texting me ideas to write Christmas stories at ten o’clock at night (Aunt Michele I’m looking at you).
And, as always, thank you to my wonderful and supportive husband for always listening to my story ideas, helping me with technical difficulties, and keeping the kids in line so I could write in peace.
About the Author
Victoria J. Best writes contemporary romance with a sexy twist. She lives on the east coast with her husband, two kids and a very pampered Yorkie.
When she’s not writing, she’s reading, baking or crafting (probably in that order).
Join Victoria’s reader group on Facebook, Victoria’s Besties, or follow her on social media.
Other Books by Victoria J. Best
One Series
One Night (book 1)
One Song (book 2)
One Chance (coming early 2020)
Rekindled: A Holiday Romance Page 11