by KB Winters
It was just one night.
“Come on, pretty girl. Whatcha say?” He gave me another wicked smile.
“One night?”
Langston dragged a hand over my hip and followed the curve up my hourglass waist, barely skimming the side of my breast, before placing his fingertips along my jawline. “One night.”
Oh fuck.
****
After agreeing to a one-night stand with the handsome stranger, I needed a few more shots of liquid courage to get me out the door. Langston ordered another round of whatever he was drinking and dared me to take a shot of Fireball with him. I eyed the cinnamon contents of my shot glass with a healthy dose of skepticism. Fireball was known to get me into a lot of trouble. Panty-dropping-table-dancing-trouble.
But it was oh so yummy.
“You need a demo, pretty girl?”
I wrinkled my nose at him and then slammed the shot back, somehow managing to keep my face from crumpling in at the burst of heat in the back of my throat. I set the glass down a little harder than intended and leveled Langston with a stare.
“Nice,” he said, grinning widely. He tossed his back without a flinch. “You ready to get the fuck outta here?”
It was now or never. I was reminded of my days in school when our class took a field trip to the local swimming pool for lessons. Agreeing to go home with Langston was a lot like standing at the edge of the diving board, wiggling my toes along the sharp line, peering down into the blue water. My stomach flip flopped and my heart slammed around inside my chest.
I looked up from the tips of my stiletto heels and signaled to the bartender. “One more.”
Langston chuckled and leaned against the bar. I was perched on the edge of a bar stool, my thighs clenched together to keep from flashing anyone. Although…from the look in his eyes, he was having plenty of naughty thoughts without catching a peek at my lacy panties. Langston was close enough that my knees brushed against his hip as he waited for the bartender to bring us our second round. His hand slid from the bar and landed on my thigh nearest to the bar. His fingers slid up my smooth skin and I bit down on my lower lip to keep from squealing as he inched nearer to my hem. His eyes locked with mine and all the air in the room vanished.
Without a word, he moved in, his body warmth radiating through me. He smelled like he just fell off the pages of a cologne ad. Hell, he looked like it too. The black t-shirt was casual but made of thick, quality fabric that clung to his large, muscled body, making him look just as irresistible as if he’d been wearing a tailored suit. A pair of dark wash jeans clung low on his hips and encased his thick thighs and backside. Damn, he was big. Solid. I’d taken a good, long look when he’d ordered the first round.
Langston’s lips brushed against my ear, his breath hot on my skin. “I can’t wait to get you out of this damn dress.”
A shiver swept over me and my mouth went dry. Meanwhile, south of the border, things were very, very wet and ready.
He pulled back before I could sputter out a reply and our drinks arrived. “Cheers, pretty girl.”
I met his glass and then we both shot back the contents. As soon as his glass hit the bar, he whipped a wallet out, handed a shiny, black credit card to the waiting bartender and then replaced the wallet in his back pocket. “Let me call us a ride.”
He didn’t seem too far gone, but I appreciated that he was being careful. He punched a message into his phone and replaced it just in time to sign off on the bill and put away his card.
“Let’s go, pretty girl. We’re running out of moonlight.”
I hopped off the bar stool and swayed a little as the room reoriented itself. Apparently, I’d had a little more to drink than I’d originally thought. How many drinks had I downed? Two with Park. Two before that. And now…two shots and a drink with Langston.
Holy shit.
Langston wrapped an arm around my waist and I leaned into him. I instantly loved the way his body engulfed mine. Sometimes I felt bulky or too big. I hated my broad shoulders and wide hips. But with Langston…I felt none of that. His size was a comfort that made me feel even more sexier than he already had. I glanced up at his profile as we made our way for the exit and smiled to myself. I had no idea what made him pick me out of the crowd, but one thing was for sure, if we only had one night, I was gonna make the most of it.
He thought he was going to rock my world. Well, I hadn’t been good and properly fucked by anyone in nearly a year.
He was in for the ride of his life.
Chapter Four
Cassie
Langston didn’t give me a chance to change my mind as I started to sober up on the drive to his house. He kept his large hand on the small of my back as we left the crowded club. I caught Park’s eye across the room and she gave me a wicked smile and an even naughtier gesture as her signal of approval. Outside, a black luxury SUV was idling at the curb, near the valet booth. A driver rushed around to open the back door and Langston held my hand as I maneuvered the side step to get into the back seat.
“Damn, now that’s a view,” he growled as I climbed into the seat, my ass high in the air. “Can’t wait to see the rest.”
I flushed but secretly his words sent a thrill rushing through me. I couldn’t remember the last time a guy was so into me. Sure, it was superficial as hell, but damn it, it felt good. I battled with myself over my perceived flaws and imperfections on a daily—sometimes hourly—basis and it was nice to let all those nasty self-doubts fade to black.
Langston climbed in next to me, his body moving with fluid, almost graceful ease. It struck me as strange that he was such a large man, but didn’t move in a way that spoke to his size.
“Back to the house, Alfred,” he said, grinning at the driver in the rear view mirror.
“You have a driver named Alfred?” I asked with a small laugh. “Does that make you Batman?”
“Something like that,” he replied, flashing a grin.
He reached over and helped me buckle into my seat, his fingers skimming my thighs as he dragged the belt over my lap. Every cell in my body flipped to ON and I didn’t dare take a breath as our eyes met. He moved closer and my heart slid up into my throat. His lips touched mine right as the belt clicked into place and the rest of my world melted away. I could no longer think. I couldn’t see—or hear.
All I could do was feel.
And it felt good!
Langston’s hand slid against my face before sliding around to cradle the back of my neck and tugged me in closer as his tongue slipped between my lips. A gasp caught in the back of my throat and I didn’t want to choke. He possessed me in a quiet, commanding way that was entirely too easy to get lost in.
“Damn, girl. You’re so sweet. I can’t wait to taste the rest of you…” His fingers moved up the inside of my thigh, leaving no doubt to the meaning of his words. I shuddered as heat and wetness pooled between my thighs. Along with an insatiable ache that had taken up residence there.
Looking into Langston’s deep hazel eyes, I knew he’d be able to satisfy that ache.
Without a doubt.
His house wasn’t far and we hurried inside. There was no time wasted with small talk, drinks—or even a tour of the home. We both knew why we were there and what we wanted. There was no need for anything else. Lust and pleasure imploded in a sultry dance as we made our way to Langston’s bed. I shed my inhibitions, insecurities, and most of my clothing along the way.
By the time we reached his room, I was stripped to my panties and trembling from head to toe, desperate for Langston’s hot kisses to travel over every inch of my skin.
“Fuck,” Langston growled, his fingers in the elastic band of the thong that was hiding under the tight layer of shapewear that he’d peeled away like an expert without blinking twice. “Now these are sexy…” he groaned, staring down at the lacy garment.
I smiled up at him as he backed me up against the bed. A soft light filtered in from the hallway and from the large windows on the o
pposite wall. I felt like a goddess in the center of Langston’s hungry stare. “You should see the rest of my collection,” I teased, licking my lips.
“Oh, I plan to, pretty girl.”
His hands moved up to my hips and he lifted me—as though I weighed nothing—to the edge of the bed. If I spread my legs, he’d be at the perfect height to enter me. That tidbit got me even wetter and I quivered, waiting to see what he would do next. Langston was stripped down to his black boxer briefs but his hard-on was evident and made me twitch with anticipation. Let’s just say, my jack rabbit had nothing on the reality of his hard cock.
Langston moved his fingers up the insides of my thighs and when they bumped against the fabric, he slipped underneath. I arched back, gasping at the sudden jolt of pleasure as his fingers ran over my bare skin. Thank God I’d kept up with my bikini waxes. He groaned as he slipped inside me. “Shit, I was gonna try to take my time, but I don’t know if I can wait much longer.”
I reached for him and wrapped my hand around his cock, over his soft cotton briefs. He made a surprised sound at my boldness and I smirked up at him. “What if I said I didn’t want to wait either?”
His eyes went wide before he closed them and dropped down to kiss me fiercely. After that, there was no need for words. Langston stripped and after slipping on a condom, he buried himself inside of me. He was too much. Too overwhelming. I was instantly lost. The room around us spun away and the only thing I could see was his body moving against mine, moving with mine, and I kept myself anchored by the look in his eyes as they gleamed with lust and heat in the low light of the room. We rose and fell together. Lost in him—in us—and every single move we made, hours passed and when I finally collapsed beside him–breathless and still somewhat dazed—my eyes fluttered closed.
****
A strange sound woke me from my sleep. My eyes popped open and I rolled toward the sound. With a silent gasp, the past hours flooded back to me and I pressed my eyes shut again. The strange sound was Langston, the soft sounds of him snoring. The bedroom was dark, apparently swathed in some kind of black out curtains, but I could make out his form in the soft glow from the alarm clock that projected the digital readout on the ceiling above the bed.
4:52.
God, help me. My head pounded from either too much alcohol or lack of sleep. I untangled myself from the sheets with slow, careful moves until I was freed. As I tiptoed toward the door, I rewound the events of the night before and realized that my clothing had been tossed before we got to the bedroom. I cringed at my boldness. The door opened without a sound and I glanced back at Langston’s hulking sleeping body before I slipped out.
I found my clothing, dressing as I located each piece, and by the time I found my little clutch purse, I was dressed and ready to make a mad dash escape from the sprawling house. I paused to look around. What the hell did Langston do? The place was a freaking mansion.
I shook my sore head, ignoring the flurry of questions. It didn’t matter who he was. What his last name was. Or what he did to afford such a beautiful estate.
All that mattered was getting out of here before he woke up and we had to do the whole awkward, hey-thanks-for-the-bang-had-a-great-time-call-ya-never thing.
When I was sure I had everything I’d brought into the house, I found the front door, marveled at the marble floors, soaring ceilings, and grand staircase, and then darted outside. Before I even reached the gated entrance to the property, I’d called an Uber, and fumbled to find the home’s address. I didn’t know what street or even what part of the city I was in. But as I neared the end of the driveway, I spotted the address displayed on the side of the black box near the gate. I rattled it off to the dispatcher and was told someone would be by to collect me in twenty minutes.
I slipped the phone back into my clutch and then turned back around to look at the house. The previously ignored questions came rushing back to the surface again. The house was stunning. Even in the dark. Exterior lights illuminated the front of the house and the sides of the driveway. It had to be at least three times the size of my parents’ home in Denver, which would put it clocking in at around six thousand square feet. Why on earth would someone need that big of a house all to themselves? A sick thought hit me in the gut. Was Langston married? Was I just a weekend fling while his wife was off on a girls’ weekend or business trip?
I shoved aside the disgusting thought and the steamy night we’d shared. It was a one-night thing. Done. Over. If he was married, that was his problem to deal with. Not mine. I had no idea and therefore could not be called a home wrecker. Right?
I balled my fists together and kneaded them against my forehead. “What were you thinking, Cass? What the hell made your brain short circuit like that?”
Oh, right…alcohol. Hell, it hadn’t just short circuited. The entire thing was a meltdown.
Before I could sink too deeply into self-loathing, the Uber arrived and I scrambled into the backseat, not daring to look up at Langston’s house, afraid I’d see him watching me from the window. Not that he’d care. Hell, a guy like that would probably be happy to see me on my way instead of having to come up with a strategy to get me out of his bed.
It was one night and now it was over. I had the aches and pains to prove it.
****
I spent the rest of my time off of work doing penance by cleaning my entire apartment. I rented a two bedroom in a nicer part of town. The apartments were less than five years old and built above retail spaces. Underneath my apartment sat a small florist shop. Sometimes on a Friday, I liked to pop in and get myself a colorful bouquet to add some cheer and color to my life. In the same strip of shops there was also a coffee shop, Chinese restaurant, dry cleaner, and an eye doctor.
By Monday morning, my small apartment was sparkling clean and I’d nearly forgiven myself for being so impulsive. Park was floored that I’d gotten some action, especially with such a worthy candidate. I just felt sick about all the ways it could have gone wrong.
And if I wasn’t obsessing about how big of a mistake it was—I was remembering the way Langston’s hands felt on my skin and the way he’d filled me so completely that it eclipsed all other experiences I’d ever had.
Let’s just say, my jack rabbit vibrator needed a new set of batteries.
But as I pushed through the doors of the non-profit youth center I worked at, I shoved it all aside and focused on what really mattered the most—taking care of my girls.
As the center’s lead activities director, it was my job to take care of a large group of at-risk girls that ranged in ages from six to fourteen. Most of them were in the foster care system and came to the center for free tutoring, day camp after school, or to take classes and workshops hosted by outside organizations. Mostly, it was my job to keep the girls safe and make sure they had a haven away from the rough and tough life that often filled their homes.
“Morning, Cassandra,” Mary Lou, the center’s director, and my immediate boss, chirped as I approached my office.
“Good morning, Mary Lou.”
She wore a pencil skirt suit and a determined expression. Something was up.
I paused at the door to my office. “Everything all right?” My stomach clenched, fearing she was about to tell my one of my girls had been in a fight or removed from their foster home. It happened all the time. I sometimes said that my job was half activity director, half bouncer. I’d had to break up fights, take away weapons, and confiscate drugs on more than a handful of occasions.
Mary Lou sighed. “Yes and no. Listen, Cassandra, I know what I’m about to dump onto your plate isn’t going to be a welcome addition but you’re the only one that has the time to take on the project.”
“Okay…”
“We have a court mandated volunteer coming in for the next five weeks to work off a community service sentence. I just need you to come up with things to keep him busy around here. Have him paint, fix the water fountain, reorganize the library. It doesn’t matter to me.
All I need is someone to keep tabs on him and make sure he’s putting in his time. Can you do that for me?”
“Sure,” I replied, shrugging my shoulders. I’d been expecting something far more dramatic. A volunteer wasn’t a problem. “Who is he?”
Mary Lou flapped a hand dismissively. “Some pro football player. He got into a bar fight and the judge sent him here to work it off. It’s a PR nightmare. My inbox is full of requests to come and feature the center and come take footage of him at work. It’s going to be my full-time job to keep the horde of paparazzi out of here!”
I frowned. “Yikes. Sounds like a mess. Well, you can count on me. I’ll keep him busy and out of your hair.”
Mary Lou heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Cassandra. You’re such an angel!”
She patted my shoulder and then strutted back to her small corner office at the other end of the large activities space where several large, round tables served as places for the kids to do homework or play when they arrived after school. The center also housed a huge gym with basketball hoops and other sports equipment. There was a playground outside, all fenced in, with dodge balls and jump ropes for the younger kids to play with.
I stared after Mary Lou for another moment. Hopefully this football player wouldn’t be too much of a pain in the ass. Five weeks was a long time to try and hold off the press. Although, if it were me, I’d use the exposure to try and organize a fund raiser or something. I let the idea percolate in the back of my mind as I unlocked my office door and went to my desk to begin my daily routine of checking emails, voice messages, and any paperwork left in the drop box.
By the time my first group of girls arrived, Mr. Football was the last thing on my mind.
Chapter Five
Langston
Monday morning came around way too fast. Granted, I’d spent most of the weekend drinking and fucking. That always seemed to make time hit fast-forward. As I reclined back in bed after shutting off my alarm clock, I grinned to myself, thinking of Cassie’s face as she’d rode me hard and fast. Damn, I couldn’t get that girl out of my head. It had been a long time since anyone had knocked me senseless like that, but the way she’d taken charge of me, riding me like I was a tool for her pleasure. Fuck…that was too hot to forget. Most women I took home were more interested in asking me about football or talking about the cars I drove or my second home in the Virgin Islands. They had the gold digger stink on them, but they were hot, easy, and good for a night.