by Selina Snow
Just with You
Selina Snow
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2020 Selina Snow – All rights Reserved
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication / use of the trademarks is not authorized, associated with or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
EPILOGUE
{Free Bonus Gift}
Chapter One
GRACE
Grace knew the time was now or never. And never wasn't an option.
She was sitting on a high barstool, one leg crossed over the other causing her short emerald green dress to ride up her curvy thigh. The music was blaring, causing the oak bar to hum and throb where-ever her body came in contact. She sipped on her old fashioned and looked out over the crowd towards the dance floor. She had never been to a bar by herself before and she worked hard at not appearing too self-conscious. She wished she had a friend with her, but there were some things a woman needed to do all by herself.
Her beautiful green eyes scanned each man quickly and efficiently. She immediately discarded anyone who appeared to be more than a couple of years younger than her. The number of those men was not high as she was only twenty-four and the age limit for being in here was twenty-one. She also moved quickly on from men who were obviously too old; those with grey hair or wrinkles. If they were obviously intoxicated or appeared to be on drugs, she wrinkled up her nose and mentally scratched them off the list. Who knew this would be so difficult?
She momentarily turned her back to the crowd and grabbed a handful of peanuts from the dish in front of her. Sighing deeply, she wondered, not for the first time, if this had been a bad idea. She looked up and saw herself reflected in the mirror that hung behind the bar. She had bought a dress specifically for tonight; it was a deep, rich shade of green that made her eyes almost glow, with a plunging neckline that highlighted her voluptuous curves. Her coppery red hair hung in waves around her shoulders, brushed to a shimmering gloss. The combination of the flattering and body-skimming dress and her hair cascading down her back made her feel slightly exposed. It was perfect for tonight.
She couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Mother Anne from the all-girls school she had attended seeing her now. She had been a model student throughout her years at Grace Immaculate, never causing a moment of worry for the sisters. She was not one of the girls that snuck out to meet boys or have a cigarette on the sly. She studied hard, excelled at her classes and wore her uniform exactly to the strict code established by the conservative nuns. Even after she had graduated and begun her training to become a paramedic, she had toed the straight and narrow. She had been raised by the nuns rather than her parents. Her father, a cold, emotionally and physically absent man who withheld his affection much as he withheld his time from both his only daughter and his passive, sedate wife. Grace remembered the mother of her youth as a smiling, happy woman who swung her around and showered hugs and kisses on her. She called her princess and told her she could do anything she set her mind to. But by the time Grace graduated from boarding school, her mother was a shell of the woman she had once been. She was like a beautiful flower that was starved of sunlight and water. Her mother rarely smiled and she stayed in their house for days on end, sometimes not even getting out of bed. She had withered without the love and attention of her husband.
Grace had watched her mother’s downward spiral over the years and vowed that she would never, ever sacrifice herself for the love of a man. It was this determination which, over the years, kept her from wasting her time on silly boys and fumbling young men. Yet somehow, it almost shocked her when she woke up on the morning of her twenty-fourth birthday and realized that she had made it through her education and early years at work as a virgin.
So began her quest to find a man who would sleep with her for one night. But one night only. She wanted to know what it felt like to have sex but she had no intention whatsoever of changing the trajectory of her life. She was happy being single and not beholden to any man. She didn’t want to go out on dates and have to deal with any emotional fall out of a relationship. She wanted it simple and easy; one night and that was it.
When she first made up her mind to find a man, she thought it would be easy. After all, it should be the dream situation for most men, shouldn’t it? A woman who wanted sex but no relationship or emotional connection. Everything she knew about men told her this would not be hard. What she hadn't counted on was that she didn't want to sleep with just any man. She wanted to actually be attracted to him, to want to have sex with him. That proved more difficult than she had imagined. Of course, she had been attracted to men in the past, but that was when she was trying to avoid them altogether. Now that she wanted a man for his body, there was not an attractive one to be found.
She swung round on her barstool, ready to continue her quest. She spotted a man off in the corner who appeared to be in his late twenties to early thirties. He looked clean, well dressed, and sober. Could this be the one? Her pulse began to quicken a bit as she considered her next step. Perhaps she should ask the waitress what he was drinking and send one over? Or maybe she should just approach him herself? Just then another man came up to the table, leaned forward and gave her man a welcoming kiss on the lips and sat down.
Shit.
She mentally amended her list of requirements to include sexuality. He needed to be straight as well as clean, sober and age-appropriate.
Chapter Two
MORGAN
Flipping the channels on his remote control, Morgan wondered if it was a mistake to stay in. When his buddies tried to convince him to go clubbing tonight, he had been tired both physically and emotionally after a long shift at work. He had answered way too many household disturbance calls and his tolerance for people wasn’t very high. The idea of willingly being around big crowds of them didn’t sound appealing. But here it was, a couple of hours and a hot shower later and he was doubting his decision.
He should have known better than to make a decision when he was first off work. He needed some time to come down from the sometimes adrenaline-pumping job as a police officer. Some days were long and uneventful, but even then he often spent those hours on edge. He never knew when the next seemingly innocent call would turn violent. He needed to be prepared for anything, at any time.
He had been an officer for the past four years and he loved every heart-pumping moment of it. He couldn't imagine doing anything else. He knew he was born to uphold the law; being a police officer was his purpose in life. It was a purpose that helped him become the man he was today. It had given him self-discipline and a group of friends who would die for him if they were ever in a situation where it was needed.
The job had also given him a physique that most men would envy. His hours in the gym preparing for foot chases and grappling a bad guy to the ground had developed his abs so that
he now had a very distinctive set of muscles that rippled down his torso. He was in the best physical shape he had ever been in his life. His body, combined with his blond, slightly out of control hair and his clear blue eyes were a hit with the ladies. This meant his friends always wanted him to come with them to clubs as he would guarantee that a bevy of ladies would be introducing themselves and hanging around their table. His friends often teased him that there was a lot of fish in the sea and for Morgan, they were all jumping out of the water and landing in his boat.
While Morgan knew logically that he was attractive, it was something that didn’t sit well with him. He remembered being the awkward teenager who couldn’t get a date to the prom. He was often made fun of by the jocks and girls would stand in cliques, looking at him and snickering amongst themselves. He was still the same person inside and he couldn’t quite wrap his head around why they didn’t see that too.
It hadn't helped that he had no positive female influence during his young developmental years. His mother was so engrossed in the business she had built that he rarely saw her. When he did, their family home was filled with yelling, fighting, and recriminations. His father would beg her to stay home and spend time with them. She would agree but within a day or two, she would receive a phone call and like a whirlwind would be packed and out of the house, gone for weeks. His father would be left to take care of their only child and hold life together as best he could. Morgan watched his father struggle single-handedly to keep his marriage together, the spouse of someone who put in no effort at all.
His parent’s marriage was so bad, and his mother so absent that Morgan wasn’t sure when they divorced and she left for good. He only knew that his father stopped talking about her and his mother stopped showing up every few weeks. No one explained to Morgan what had happened and it wasn’t until years later that he learned his mother was remarried to one of her company’s vice-presidents and living in another state.
While he felt he had risen above his childhood and lack of a mother’s love and attention, his formative years had left him feeling he wasn’t really worthy of a woman’s attention. When he received attention and interest from women, he didn’t trust it or the women who were interested in him. He had spent the last several years hanging out with his friends from the force and occasionally hooking up with women he met while out. He made it a rule to never spend a night with anyone his friends knew or anyone their wives tried to set him up with. He wanted his relationship with women to be strictly platonic or easy to limit to a one night fling.
The cell phone that was sitting on his coffee table began to buzz loudly and interrupted Morgan’s thoughts. He smiled when he looked at the call display and realized it was his buddy Dave calling him again. He should have known he hadn’t heard the last of Dave. His friend knew him well enough to know that if Morgan said no to going out that he would need to try again. Dave was a police officer as well and understood that sometimes it took a while to come down from a shift.
“Hi Dave,” Morgan said as he answered his phone.
"Hey, Morg! You change your mind yet?" Dave asked, the sound of music and laughter making it almost impossible to hear him.
“Where are you?” Morgan asked. “It sounds busy.”
“We’re down at Elements but we’re heading to the Crossroads in about five minutes,” Dave almost yelled to be heard above the clamor of the bar.
“I’ll see you at Crossroads,” Morgan responded as he stood up and reached for his car keys that were on the kitchen counter.
What the heck, going out with the guys for a few beers and laughs sounded like a better idea than sitting around his apartment and stewing over the past.
Chapter Three
MORGAN
“Hey Morgan, over here!” Dave shouted from across the bar.
Morgan waved and began to thread his way through the crowd. People were laughing and milling around in various stages of intoxication and desperation. Before he reached Dave, he had dodged a drunk woman lurching for the bathroom and a fighting couple.
“Hi!” Morgan greeted his friends.
After a round of hellos, a beer was put in front of Morgan and he took a sip. Looking around, he felt a moment of resignation roll over him. The people and the scene could have been any bar he had visited in the last few months. Anorexic looking women dressed to the nines, tottering on overly high heels, drunk men either obnoxiously hitting on someone or guzzling back at drink as friends egged him on. Morgan hated to admit it to himself, but this scene was becoming a bit predictable. Once things were predictable, the next step was boredom, then what would he do?
Just then, a woman appeared beside him, holding out her hand and nodding in the direction of the dance floor. He took her hand and followed her. The music was loud and pounding and he had a hard time keeping track of his dance partner; she seemed intent on doing a walking dance that had them weaving in and out of people. After a few minutes of this, his dance partner stopped dance-walking and seemed content to turn around and face him. It wasn’t long before he understood what had happened. A man came towards him with an angry scowl on his face, looking as though he wanted trouble. He yelled something indecipherable at Morgan and grabbed the woman’s hand and began to drag her away.
Morgan was concerned about the way the boyfriend was dragging the woman and he stepped forward and tapped the man on the shoulder. The man turned around and made as though to push Morgan but he had no idea he was up against a police officer who was used to protecting himself and others. Grabbing his hand and twisting it around the man’s back, Morgan said a few words into his ear that caused the man to nod in agreement and stand down. By this time the woman had disappeared and Morgan hoped she had left or found somewhere safe.
Morgan should his head in annoyance and he turned around and headed back to his friends.
“What happened?” his friend asked when he returned.
“Just another stupid boyfriend,” Morgan replied with a shrug.
“Never happens to me!” Dave laughed, patting his soft middle.
The group had a good laugh at both Dave and Morgan’s expense and Morgan knew this would just become another story to tease him about tomorrow.
“Hey, what about that one!” Dave exclaimed, pointing towards the bar and a beautiful woman sitting there.
Morgan had to agree that Dave had good taste as he looked at the woman at the bar. She had a head of flowing red hair and wore a snug green dress that hugged her curves. Morgan felt his interest piqued for the first time since he walked into the bar. She looked a bit uncomfortable sitting by herself and she kept looking out over the crowd as though she was looking for someone. Maybe she was waiting for her boyfriend?
“Go on, show her the ole Morgan charm!” his friends said, part encouragingly and part taunting.
Why not? The worst thing that could happen is she is waiting for her boyfriend and she sends Morgan packing.
GRACE
Sitting at the bar, Grace was almost ready to give up. She had begun to question coming here; who was she kidding, she wasn’t the kind of woman who did this type of thing. Just then she noticed a man on the dance floor intercede between a woman and her obviously angry and dangerous partner. Now, why couldn't she find someone like that?
She waved her goodbyes to the bartender who had been keeping her drink filled all night. Just as she turned, ready to slip off the barstool, someone planted themselves directly in front of her. She looked up. Way up. Starting at his snug jeans and working her way up to his white t-shirt that had a subtle design of blue on the front and to his chiseled jaw. She looked into the most startling blue eyes she had ever seen. She was used to others noticing her eyes and now she knew how they felt. They were such a deep clear blue that she felt as though she could lose herself in them. She took a deep gulp. It was the knight in shining armor she had just witnessed on the dance floor. She finished slipping off the barstool and stood up next to him, the top of her head reaching his chin. Witho
ut a word, he held out his hand and she slipped hers into his.
They walked out onto the dance floor and her body took over. She danced to the music as though she was born to it. The pounding bass guided her hips and she lost all her inhibitions. Before long, her dance partner placed his hands on her hips and pulled her toward him. They moved to the music together, pressed tightly, as though as one. Soon the loud dance music slid into a slower, languid song and he held her even closer. She tucked her body into his. She had never before felt so protected and secure. He lowered his head and his lips grazed her neck; a shiver ran through her and she felt desire well up in her body. She felt his large hands as they moved across her back and back down to her hips. She moved her hands across his broad chest and then moved down, hooking her thumbs into the belt loops on his jeans.
All too soon, the slow music ended, and a loud throbbing song came on again. Still, they stood in the middle of the dance floor, wrapped in each other’s arms, neither of them wanting to move. One of his hands moved upward and grabbed some of her silky hair, gently easing her head back. He looked into her eyes and they seemed to communicate without words. As if on cue, they both turned and walked back towards the bar, where her jacket was still draped over her chair. Then they walked over to the table where he was sitting and grabbed his coat as well. Most of his friends were too busy chatting to notice him, except one friend who was grinning at him like a Cheshire cat.
“Talk to you later mate,” His friend stated as he raised his beer in his direction, as though lifting a to toast him.
In a daze, Grace walked outside with him, hardly believing that one moment she was heading home and the next minute she was heading home with a man. At least, she assumed that is what was happening. It was all happening so fast, she didn’t even know his name! But somehow, she wasn’t alarmed or concerned. It just felt right. Well, as right as it could feel for a twenty-four-year-old virgin to be leaving a bar with a complete stranger. A handsome, magnetic stranger who made her insides melt.