The One Night Stand

by Elizabeth Hayley

  “I’ll forget about it if you keep doing what you were doing,” she said, letting her head fall against the wall and arching her back to give Gabe better access to her chest.

  Gabe loved how comfortable they were with each other already, how they could laugh during this intimate moment. It turned him on even more.

  He unhooked her bra as he slid his hand down her back. Then he slipped it down her arms before tossing it behind him and hoisting her up so her legs could wrap around him.

  “You have too many clothes on,” she said as Gabe nipped at her neck.

  “I agree. We should probably do something about that.”

  “We definitely should,” Rachel replied.

  She’d barely gotten out the words before Gabe had her moving through his hotel room toward the tall king bed and placed her on it, letting her legs dangle over the sides as he backed away to pull his Commanders jersey off. She gave him this little grin as she brought a finger to her lip and bit on its edge. He wondered if she knew how hot she was—if the act was intentional. But truthfully it didn’t matter.

  “Is it weird that I want to tell you how hot your chest is too?” she asked. The comment made Gabe smile as he popped the button of his jeans and unzipped them. He’d just begun to pull them down when Rachel said, “Leave them on.” Then she sat up and grabbed his waistband to pull him toward her.

  His erection, which was still straining against his jeans, perked up even further as Rachel’s lips slid over his lower abs. It was an image he’d file away in his brain for future use: her head moving near his cock as his fingers tangled with her dark hair. He let out a low groan when her hand pressed against his dick. She played with it over his pants for a while before pulling down the zipper the rest of the way and yanking down his boxers enough to free him. She stroked him a few times before Gabe needed his lips back on hers.

  His thumb stroked her cheek as he kissed her. Her moans grew louder as he rubbed against her, but finally he was able to pull himself away from her long enough to undo her skinny jeans and slide them down her legs. Her thong was next, and he savored the visual as the black lace traced over her skin.

  He fished a condom from his wallet and tore it open. Squeezing himself as he rolled it on, he held back his orgasm. Jesus, he couldn't wait to be inside her. He hadn’t thought about her in a while, but God, when he used to think about her, he’d imagine how warm and wet she was. And it was that thought that had him returning to her, guiding her down on the bed to he could press into her.

  Somehow, all of his fantasies couldn't even come close to the real thing. Her legs wrapped around his ass as her nails dug into his jeans to guide him even deeper inside. Then they began to move together, their bodies responding to the other’s in a way that he wasn’t sure he’d experienced before. She seemed to almost melt against him.

  The moans and choppy breaths that escaped her had him speeding up, though he didn’t exactly want this to end. He used his forearms to prop himself up so his weight wasn’t on her completely as he thrust into her. Her nails were on his back, scratching over his shoulder blades before sliding under his boxers. He tensed as her fingertips brushed over his ass, and he willed himself not to come anytime soon.

  He never thought he’d have Rachel Adler in his bed, and now that he did, he wanted it to be fucking memorable. And not just for him. He knew he’d never forget this. Though her legs were clamped around him, he pulled out almost completely and then drove back in. His thumb went to her clit the next time he withdrew, making her practically quiver beneath him. She was close, and he knew it.

  A few more steady thrusts into her had Rachel begging him not to pull out again. Her words only increased the pleasure of the moment for him, and he thought about how he’d never get enough of Rachel’s soft please. “Please, Gabe. God, yes. Make me…” But she never finished her sentence before her body quaked with the orgasm that Gabe could feel too. Gabe continued to pound into her until her climax faded enough that he could speed up to find his own release. He wasn’t even sure what he said as he came, but whatever it was he couldn’t help it. It was probably the hardest he’d come in a while, and Rachel had been the one to make him do it.

  Jace wasn’t the only one who’d won tonight.

  Chapter Four

  Opening her eyes, Rachel assessed her situation. She was currently in Gabe Torres’s hotel room at… she didn’t even know what time it was, so she stretched gingerly to reach her phone on the bedside table. Shit. Almost ten-thirty in the morning. She hadn’t meant to stay that long, or at all, but now here she was, still naked with Gabe’s arm draped over her chest as he slept beside her.

  Her first thought was that if Gabe’s snoring hadn’t woken her, she must have been really tired last night. Or drunk. Maybe mostly drunk. Her next thought was how the hell she was going to get out from under him without waking him. The only piece of clothing she could see from her current position was her bra, which made her think that the rest must be in the living room. Why did he have to get a suite? It would definitely make her game of Escape the Hotel Room easier if she knew where all her stuff was.

  She stayed still a few more minutes before she realized that every second she spent in bed meant it was a second closer to whenever Gabe would be waking up. Wiggling slowly under the weight of his arm, she eventually freed herself and slid out of bed. Sure, it resulted in her practically falling to the floor, but she decided to look at that as a positive since she could crawl around to look for her clothes. The sound of Gabe snorting suddenly and flipping over had her freezing in place, as if the lack of movement might make her invisible.

  She couldn’t explain why she was so intent on leaving undetected. It was Gabe, for God’s sake. She’d known him since college. Or maybe she’d known him in college was more accurate. They hadn’t exactly kept in touch over the years, but he was still familiar. It wasn’t like this was some sort of one-night-stand with a stranger. No, it was more like a one-night-stand with a… non-stranger, and somehow that made her feel a little better.

  Then she remembered the real reason for her visit to Texas, and she felt like shit all over again. She’d been there to scour the after-party for any sports dirt she could dig up for her job—a fact she’d kept to herself when they’d run into each other at the party.

  It wasn’t typically something she kept hidden from people, but she’d realized almost immediately upon running into Gabe that she didn’t want him to know why she was there. He’d been so excited for Jace’s win, and it seemed he hadn’t lost his carefree attitude she remembered. She’d been sure that telling him she was there to look for drama wouldn’t have sat well with him. She remembered from college how loyal and protective he and his friends were of each other, and she wondered if that protectiveness transferred to other athletes, or the game in general as well. For that reason, she’d only told Gabe about her freelance work and hadn’t gotten into any details, and she was glad for it.

  Last night had been fun. And looking at how perfectly-sculpted Gabe’s body was put her at ease a little too. She definitely wouldn’t call last night a mistake. It was hard to believe that the man had retired from professional baseball. He hadn’t let himself go in the past five months. She took a moment to admire his chest and abs, which looked like they’d been chiseled from stone. She’d gotten to feel them last night, but hadn’t been able to see them well in the dark.

  Somehow she was able to pull herself away from the beautiful image in front of her long enough to snatch up what she could find of her belongings. Then she slid her phone in her bag and dressed quickly before heading out the door. Once she was in the elevator, she breathed a sigh of relief. Though she didn’t regret sleeping with Gabe, she also wasn’t prepared to talk to him about it. She didn’t want to admit that she’d lied by omission because the night would be tarnished when he found out she was an investigative reporter. Which reminded her how pissed her boss would be if he found out she came out of last night without a story. Especiall
y after Rick’s little talk.

  She didn’t exactly think Gabe would have any reason to want to talk about last night anyway. He was a professional athlete, for Christ’s sake. Or he used to be. His bed was probably a merry-go-round of gorgeous women, and she was just one of many he’d taken for a ride. She knew the chance of a superstar playboy wanting to have any sort of conversation about the previous night was highly unlikely.

  The fact that he was a playboy had been the main reason she hadn’t agreed to go out with him in college, despite the fact that she’d been incredibly attracted to him. She hadn’t wanted to date someone who, at the time, she’d been certain was only interested in her body. Plus she’d wanted to concentrate on building her career, not tarnish it by banging one of the up-and-coming athletes she’d met at an interview. But now that she’d established her career and was confident in herself both as a reporter and as a woman, she didn’t have any logical reason not to act on her desires. Yet somehow, she still found herself questioning her decision.

  She couldn’t even explain why she was so neurotic right now. She told herself to stop overthinking her decision. It happened, and she had to admit she’d loved it. That settled it; it definitely wasn’t something she regretted.

  That is, until her phone dinged with a text from a number she didn’t recognize. Forget something? She didn’t even know who it was from until a picture followed a few seconds later. And there it was: her black thong she’d been searching for this morning.

  Dammit.

  ***

  Even days later, thinking back on their conversation made her laugh. Please throw those away, she’d written back. And then, How did you get my number?

  I have my ways.

  You know that makes you sound like a stalker, right? And the picture of my underwear didn’t help. Btw, did you throw it away? You never answered.

  Then he’d sent her one of those emojis crying with laughter before writing, You gave me your number, remember? How drunk were you? And then, In the trash, don’t worry.

  As Rachel unplugged her phone from the charging station on her bedside table and put it in her purse before work, she almost laughed at how ridiculous the conversation had been. At least until Gabe had told her how happy he’d been to run into her and to have a safe flight back to New York. That had taken it from ridiculous to ridiculously awkward. So, in typical Rachel style, she’d written back something totally unrelated immediately in the hopes that Gabe would assume she hadn’t even noticed his last text. Thankfully, he’d never questioned her about why she’d snuck away.

  The memory of her time with Gabe had her adjusting her black pencil skirt and double-checking that all the buttons on her mustard yellow silk blouse were buttoned, almost as if the thought of sleeping with Gabriel Torres might make her clothes undress themselves. She was happy to get back to work this morning so she could take her mind off of Gabe and… Jesus, stop thinking about him.

  “How was Houston?” The question had come from her usually grumpy roommate, Kellan, who was sitting at their small kitchen counter sipping black coffee. When she eyed it longingly, he said, “The pot’s fresh.”

  “Thanks,” she replied, filling her favorite mug she’d gotten at Disney World a few years ago. “It was fun, I guess.”

  Kellan nodded as he scrolled through the news on his phone. “You get any good stories while you were down there?”

  Just one I could tell some of my girlfriends about. “Nah, nothing really. Just the typical celebratory Super Bowl stuff. Why are you dressed?” she asked.

  Kellan looked down at his pale blue dress shirt and gray slacks. “Would you rather me be naked?”

  Rachel rolled her eyes as she hopped up onto the barstool next to him. Kellan was as gay as he was unemployed, but he’d insisted, since they’d met years ago at a mutual friend’s wedding, that Rachel had a thing for him. She didn’t. She really didn’t. “Please keep your clothes on,” she said. “I meant why are you dressed like that? You have a funeral or something?”

  Kellan elbowed her playfully. “What? I’m in a suit, and you think someone died?”

  “Well, yeah. That, and you seem especially chipper this morning,” she joked.

  He laughed before replying, “I’m an asshole, but I’m not that big of an asshole. It doesn’t make me happy when people die.” She stared at him until he spoke again. “Okay, so there are certain people whose demise I might find joy in, but that’s not why I’m dressed up and in a good mood. I got a job.”

  Rachel’s eyes widened. “Really? Where? Doing what? Is it full-time? When were you going to tell me?”

  “Do I get to answer any of the questions, or are you just gonna keep asking them?”

  “Sorry,” she said. “It’s the reporter in me. Tell me all about it.”

  “I will tonight. I gotta get going though.” He grabbed his suit jacket off the back of the couch and put his keys in his pocket.

  “I’m meeting Lina for drinks later, but when I get back I want to hear all about your first day on the job.”

  “I’m not a cop,” Kellan said. “By the way, change your shirt. The yellow and black makes you look like a bumblebee.”

  Chapter Five

  “You going for the queen bee look today.” This time the comment had come from Rick, and it made Rachel laugh out loud. She’d thought about changing her shirt after Kellen had said nearly the same thing earlier, but ultimately decided it didn’t matter. She was only going to the office today and didn’t have any interviews lined up. She’d most likely be catching up on some things she’d missed while she was traveling and probably wouldn’t leave her small workspace much at all today.

  All Access Sports was a magazine that covered everything and anything in the sports world. From new college players to athletes’ new babies, All Access was interested in it. It was an odd mix that took Rachel some time to adjust to since her journalism internship had been at an extremely well-known sports news station. Ultimately, her heart was in television broadcasting, but she knew how difficult that field was to break into.

  So when All Access Sports had offered her a position, she’d taken it. She told herself it was a stepping stone, a way to get her foot in the door, and every other cliched metaphor she could think of that would make her feel better about settling for an offer that wasn’t her dream job. But the magazine had a respectable readership, and since Rachel liked most of the people she worked with—and Rick typically assigned her interesting articles, even when he was mad at her—she’d lasted longer here than she’d originally intended to.

  “And you look like a lonely, middle-aged pothead,” she said, finally able to think of a witty reply. It was good that things between them had gone back to normal, with them able to banter with one another.

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing. I’d love to be lonely. And high.” Rick looked back at down at the file he’d been holding and turned a few pages. “Once the twins leave for college, I can be all those things.” He paused for a moment, and then held up the file he’d been holding. “I got something I’ve been waiting to show you.”

  “What?” Rachel cocked her head to the side in doubt, causing Rick to grin in a way that made the wrinkles around his eyes even more pronounced. That got Rachel’s attention. Rick only got excited about the big stories, and that immediately caused Rachel’s heart rate to speed up.

  He pulled his glasses down from where they’d been resting on his curly gray hair. “Maybe I’ll keep you in suspense a little longer.” He turned and made his way toward his office, but Rachel immediately followed.

  “What is it?” She kept in stride with him, though his steps were nearly twice the length of hers.

  “Interested suddenly, are we?” Rick rounded the corner to his small office. He plopped into his chair and then spun the file toward her and leaned back in his chair, his hands resting behind his head as he waited for her to peruse the documents.

  Rachel sunk into the chair across from him as she opene
d the file. She’d always had an issue reading things in a linear fashion. Even as a kid, her eagerness to finish a book had caused her eyes to jump around on the page in a way that allowed her brain to soak up all of the information in pieces and somehow put it together into one cohesive whole. It was like putting together a puzzle without making the edges first. But her brain couldn’t make sense of the words she saw in front of her this time. Mike Tarino… underground club …drugs…

  “Is this what I think it is?” Rachel asked, her voice barely more than a whisper, as if she was in church handling a garment worn by God himself. She didn’t give Rick a chance to answer before she asked, “Where’d you get all this?” Rachel lifted the paper to see what was on the next page: a rundown of a Player’s Club that catered to the best of the best in the sports world. Fucking unicorn my ass. The notes were handwritten and not in Rick’s script.

  “Andrews got a tip from someone,” Rick said with a nod toward where the intern who’d started a few weeks ago sat.

  “Shit. Is Andrews his last name? I’ve been calling him Andrew since he started. I thought Andrew was his first name.”

  “His first name’s Colin. Or Conner. Or something like that. Anyway, my guess is the caller didn’t want to contact anyone with any sort of experience who could think of some impromptu follow-up questions to ask.”

  “Let me guess… anonymous?”

  Rick shook his head and gave her that sly grin again. “Nope. A former athlete.”

  “Who?” Rachel was nearly coming out of her seat. This was what she’d been waiting for.

  “Cole Barnes,” he replied.

  Rachel felt herself deflate a little, which Rick seemed to notice because he immediately began talking. “I know, I know. The guy’s a washed-up first baseman who gained a gambling debt and a bad coke habit since he retired from baseball.” Rachel raised her eyebrows as if to say My thoughts exactly, but Rick seemed to ignore the nonverbal comment. “But that’s what makes this more believable,” he said, standing again because, she guessed, he was too manic now to stay in one place. “Barnes’s got a chip on his shoulder because not only has he been ousted from the sports world completely, but he’s claiming that Tarino kicked him out of the club.”