Skin of the Night: Book One of The Night series

by Claire D. Bennett

  Frustrated, I frowned to myself. It became apparent that I would need to be brutally honest with both him and myself, so after drawing in a deep breath, I mustered the courage to place myself in a vulnerable spot. I’d never been this transparent with a mere stranger before, but William surely made it difficult to avoid.

  “William, I’m sorry, but you’re not casual sex material. You’re boyfriend material. I’m a bit too compelled by you. Meanwhile, Aaron doesn’t intrigue me that way at all. He’s just there – platonically.”

  “I can’t believe this.” He moaned to himself. “Are you honestly saying I’m too interesting?”

  I grimaced. “Well, sort of. I’m not at a point in my life where ‘too interesting’ is worth risking my attention for. I’m very sorry, but I’ve got to be rational about this. What I’m doing is damage control.”

  “Fuck this,” he muttered. “I’m done.”

  I tensed. “‘Done’ as in you want me to leave?”

  “No, but I’m forfeiting. You’re clearly not going to change your mind.”

  I sighed and crawled towards him. With my hands folded under my chin, I rested across his muscular chest and held his gaze. “Sorry.”

  “I’m over it,” he assured me nonchalantly.

  “I’ll give you a blowjob, if you want, for compensation.”

  “You’d do best to stay silent, I think,” he muttered, but there was an erotic twinkle in his gorgeous eyes. It hurt to look at him now. He had better be worth rejecting.

  “I don’t know what your partner is into, but I don’t tend to speak much when I’m performing fellatio. It might have to do with having a cock in my mouth, but what do I know?” I teased and trailed soft kisses down his torso. The slabs of muscle flexed beneath my mouth, causing me to grin. Was he ticklish?

  Reaching forward, he buried his hands in my hair and dragged me back to his face. “What are you? The Devil?” he asked and glared into my eyes.

  I smiled wryly back. “It’s your night. I’ll be whatever you want.”

  “Mine, then,” he said, making my heart falter and my lips part. Had he truly just said that? Again, the strangest feeling poured through my chest, but I couldn’t fathom the nature of it.

  “Oh, but you already are,” he teased and reclaimed my mouth.

  Irked, I pushed him away. “I’m not.”

  “You just said it yourself. I’m boyfriend material,” he argued, amused.

  “You’re also an idiot.”

  His left eyebrow arched. “My degree begs to differ.”

  “Cambridge,” I muttered with a roll of my eyes. “Quite the card, that is.”

  “Yes.” He tucked his arms under his head. Lying beneath me, he studied me, seemingly fascinated. “I hope I’ll forget you.”

  Struck by his brutal words, I frowned. “Why?”

  “Because if not, I’ll go mad.” He chuckled and wrapped his arms around me to fling us around. “But for now, I intend to take full advantage,” he continued and reached over for his nightstand. When I saw him withdraw another foil packet, my eyes widened. Already?

  “I assure you, though, Sandra, I won’t give you a single reason to ever forget me.”

  § § §

  An internal alarm woke me the following morning. My eyes opened at once, whereupon the sight of the black and unfamiliar nightstand prompted me to remember where I was. To allow the initial shock to subside, I continued to lie there for a few seconds, wide-eyed. One after the other, memories of last night paraded into my mind until there was an abundance of heat in my face. I smiled in spite of it, for it had been dreamlike.

  Returning to the present, I noticed that there wasn’t a sound around me – not even of a body softly drawing breath. Was he still lying behind me? I remembered I’d fallen asleep in his arms sometime after midnight, but nobody was holding me now.

  In case he was still present in the bed, I turned carefully and slowly, but he was nowhere in sight. Relaxing somewhat, I groaned to myself and rubbed my face. I despised the inevitable next phase – the awkward conversation and forced small talk that always occurred the morning after a one-night stand, unless I’d snuck out before the guy woke. There was always that dreadful question hanging in the air and spilling between the lines: what’s next? Should we go back to being perfect strangers, as if we hadn’t just enjoyed each other more intimately than most, or should we embark on a journey that was bound to end in tragedy once I failed to live up to his expectations?

  Considering what a paradigm shift William represented in my expectations of men, I decided to remain for a while longer to muster my courage. I’d need every drop of it if I was going to be able to stick to my rules and leave without any intention of a reunion.

  Gazing around, I wondered what time it was. Last night, I’d brought my purse into his bedroom, so I reached down the side of the bed for it and took out my phone. As the screen lit up, I saw that it was half ten and that I had two missed calls from Jason, as well as a text from Olivia that had been received just a minute ago.

  Since I had plans with Jason today, I decided to call him before I did anything else.

  “Morning, love,” he answered after a single ring.

  “Morning, Jason,” I replied hoarsely and proceeded to clear my throat.

  “Glad you’re not dead,” he said with a chuckle. “Whose bed did you fall asleep in?”

  “The bed of the guy I insulted,” I mumbled, embarrassed.

  “No way. You’re joking.”

  “Am not.”

  Laughter burst out of him. “Oh my God. Course you did. Was it worth it?”

  “Yeah, actually. Best I’ve ever had,” I admitted.

  “Really?” he queried, amazed.

  “Really.”

  “Damn. Will you stick to your rules, then?”

  I sighed. “That’s the plan.”

  He was quiet for a beat. “You don’t sound too happy about that.”

  A knock on the door interrupted our conversation, and my heart contracted with a thrill upon the sound.

  “Yeah, I know. But listen, I’ve got to go. I’m about to get dressed and leave. I’ll be home soon, alright?”

  “Right. Later, then.”

  “Yeah.” I hung up. “Yes?” I called out and watched the doorknob turn. Once the door swung open, I was presented with the view of the gorgeous man I’d managed to seduce last night. I must have been wielding some black magic. Nothing else could explain this. For better or for worse, he was precisely my type, both physically and mentally. Dressed into beige trousers and a simple white shirt, he leaned against the doorpost and smiled.

  There wasn’t a chance I could keep myself from blushing.

  “Morning,” he cooed and tucked his hands into his pockets. “Sleep well?”

  “I did. You?”

  “Same.”

  “Have you been awake for long?”

  “About an hour.” He shrugged. “Anyway, I’ve made you breakfast. If you’d like a shower first, there’s a bathroom through that door,” he said and cocked his head towards it.

  My eyebrows arched. I hadn’t expected this level of hospitality. “Thanks. You’re very kind.”

  My compliment didn’t appear to affect him. “You’ll find fresh towels on the shelf beside the shower. There’s shampoo and conditioner for women there as well, should you want to use it.”

  I grimaced. “Why have you got that? Is it your regular partner’s?” If it was, I wasn’t inclined to even touch it. It would feel wrong – like I was trespassing on her territory.

  His smile transitioned into a grin. “No. I shopped for it this morning, when I went out for coffee.”

  “Oh.” My blush intensified at his thoughtfulness. “That wasn’t necessary, but I appreciate it.”

  He shrugged again. “I left a T-shirt for yo
u as well. If there’s anything else, let me know. I’ll just wait in the kitchen.”

  As soon as he closed the door, I pushed the duvet aside, climbed out of the bed and approached the bathroom. Upon entering, I felt like I’d walked into a spa. Like I’d expected, it was rather spacious. He even had a tub.

  Although it was tempting to stand under his rain shower for ages, I was quick to step out because I meant to respect Jason’s time. In the end, he had reserved the day to help me unpack, so I ought to get home as soon as possible.

  As I looked in the mirror, I was grateful to discover that there wasn’t much makeup left on my face. The remaining traces were nothing the wipes I kept in my purse couldn’t get rid of.

  Once I’d finished rinsing my face, I dressed into the plain white T-shirt that I found resting on a chest of drawers inside the bathroom. The size of it made it work like a dress, which I appreciated. Grabbing my towel, I wrapped my hair and decided to face reality.

  The smell of bacon hit me first. Exiting his bedroom, I heard London hum in the background through a window he’d opened in his living room. As I walked through, I looked towards the front door and noted that my knickers were gone. He’d probably thrown them in the bin. Heading past the staircase leading to another floor, my eyes landed on his square dining table, and the memory it triggered made my vagina throb. As I thought of it, I noticed how sore I was. He’d had his way with me three times before he’d let me sleep. To let my vagina heal, I’d be sexually inactive for at least a week.

  Passing the dining table, I turned a corner and came upon the door to his kitchen. It was open, and the scent of bacon was concentrated here. Lingering on a step, I drew in a deep breath for courage before I walked in and found him seated by the island, reading on his iPad.

  “It smells amazing,” I said the instant he looked up to acknowledge my arrival. When my eyes landed on a pan containing scrambled eggs, saliva amassed in my mouth. While I was certain they’d be no match for Jason’s recipe, I could hardly wait to fill my mouth.

  “Oh my God, you’ve pulled out all the stops, haven’t you?” I commented appreciatively while I hesitated to hop onto the stool beside him. Seeming to notice, he smiled, charmed, and patted the top of it as an invitation.

  “Please,” he said after I’d sat down, “help yourself.”

  Hungrily, I scanned the options in front of me and was about to grab a croissant when I noticed the Starbucks cup standing next to my plate. My eyes zoomed in on the black ink on the side. Electra, it read. Laughter surged out of me at once. Pointing at it, I turned to face him.

  “Is that for me?”

  Wearing a smirk, he reached for his own cup and turned it so I could read the name on the side. Oedipus, it read, which made me laugh even harder.

  “You’re certainly something else,” I remarked. “That’s brilliant.”

  “Glad you’ve noticed.”

  I got the feeling there was another dimension to his response, but since I wanted to avoid ruining the mood by introducing the conversation that would ultimately lead to rejection, I pretended not to have registered it while I reached for a croissant.

  “I wasn’t sure how you take your coffee, so I opted for a regular black. If you’d like any milk, it’s in the fridge,” he said while I helped myself to some scrambled eggs.

  “Like I’d have the nerve to complain,” I countered, amused.

  “What’s your usual order, though?”

  “At Starbucks?”

  “Yeah. Or just in general.”

  “Flat white. But I often opt for black coffee as well. Depends on my mood.”

  “I see.”

  “And you?” I had no use for this information, but I thought it polite to ask anyway.

  “Black, nothing added. Always.”

  I nodded as I raised a forkful of scrambled eggs to my mouth. The minute the flavour exploded on my tongue, my eyes widened with disbelief. It tasted precisely like Jason’s, if not even better.

  Observing my reaction, he queried, “Everything alright?”

  I paused chewing and turned to frown at him. Stowing the eggs in my cheek, I covered my mouth and declared, “This is absolutely delicious. What’s your secret? I’ve never tasted better scrambled eggs in my life.”

  A grin formed on his face before he fixed his gaze on his iPad again. “I’m glad. If you decide to stick around, perhaps I’ll tell you.”

  My heart sank. It was clear he was waiting for me to share my verdict, and he wasn’t going to like it. There was simply too much at stake. While I couldn’t deny that he might be a diamond in the rough, the problem was that I couldn’t know for certain. I had no guarantee that we’d turn out to be compatible, and I wasn’t willing to explore the potential when I already had countless obligations to mind that were vital for my future.

  With a sigh, I put my fork aside and folded my hands in my lap. “Will, I’ve already told you. I don’t have the capacity for anything other than a one-night stand – especially now with my exams round the corner.”

  Stealing a glance at him, I saw his jaw clench while he locked his iPad. After shoving it away, he faced the windows and stared out at the rooftops of London. “And like I’ve said before, I’m willing to compromise. Focus on your exams. Once you’re done, let me know.”

  Unsure of what to say, I merely continued to look at him. Eventually, his impatience got the better of him and he faced me again. Perplexed, he asked, “Why won’t you just give me a chance? That’s all I’m asking – a single chance to prove myself worthy of your attention.”

  Unsettled, my lips pursed. “I’ve already explained why.”

  “Well, to be perfectly frank, I find your reason rather pathetic.”

  Groaning, I placed my elbows on the island to bury my face in my hands. “Is it really so hard for you to accept that I’m just not interested in anything more than this?”

  “Yes, actually.”

  A certain lie I’d told him earlier marched into my mind then, and I intended to make use of it. Perhaps reminding him would moderate his zeal. “Will, I live in Edinburgh. There’s no chance we’d work out.”

  “Why so pessimistic? Edinburgh is but a mere flight away,” he argued, shocking me.

  While gawking at him, I probed, “Are you implying that you’d be willing to fly to Edinburgh only to see me again?”

  He frowned. “I’m not implying it. I’m professing it.”

  Stunned, I could only stare at him.

  “I realise how crazy that sounds,” he murmured after a while and waved his hand in the air, “so allow me to elaborate. What I’m saying is that I’d like to keep in touch. If that proves rewarding enough, I’m not closed to the idea of flying over to see you. Besides, have you got ties in London aside from your friendship with Olivia? Does your family reside here, for instance? Judging by your accent, you sound like you might have grown up around here. If so, I’m sure you’ll be visiting London again soon enough.”

  Since I could hardly believe what I was hearing, I remained speechless.

  He sighed and faced the windows again. “I see it as a win-win situation. You said you’re reluctant about dating because you haven’t got time to spare for it. Obviously, I won’t be able to demand much of your time while you’re in Edinburgh. And, like you, I’ve not got much time to spare either. I’m an ambitious man, so I spend most hours of the day at work anyway. It’d be mutually beneficial. Don’t you see? Our needs are compatible. What’s it going to cost you to keep in touch while you’re in Scotland? I just don’t understand how that’s asking too much.”

  After a while, he added, “Had you said it’s because you don’t fancy me that way, I’d of course respect it. But that’s not the case, is it?”

  Conflicted, I swallowed a lump in my throat. The solution was simple, and yet I couldn’t bring myself to utter the lie. “No,”
I barely mumbled, “it’s not.”

  He groaned loudly and tossed his head back to stare at the ceiling in despair. “Women,” he complained under his breath.

  I realised at that moment that I’d misread him. He wasn’t an arsehole at all. In his own way, he was instead a rare breed of a gentleman. Upon recalling what he had told me last night about how rarely he indulged in one-night stands, he didn’t strike me as a man who chased skirts merely for the thrill of it, or because he was looking to boost his ego. On the contrary, he seemed rather fastidious about whom he blessed with his time and attention.

  And here I was, wasting it.

  I’d studied him for some time when I said, “I’m sorry, William. You deserve better.” I wasn’t sure exactly what had caused me to say it, but it was like my heart had governed my tongue.

  He sighed and reached for his iPad again. “Well, I agree – I deserve at least a chance.”

  I nodded and focused on my plate again. “I really am sorry.”

  After that, I suspected he succumbed to disgruntlement, because neither of us said a word for the remainder of breakfast.

  When it was time for me to leave, I’d at first meant to hand back his T-shirt, but he insisted that I should keep it. To go along with it, he provided me with a pair of his white Calvin Klein boxers since I had no knickers to wear after he’d ripped them to shreds last night. I laughed wholeheartedly while I pulled them on, but they served the purpose, nevertheless. In fact, they were quite comfortable – like wearing hotpants.

  While I got dressed and collected my things, he called for a black cab, and I had only just finished brushing my hair when he arrived in the doorway of his bathroom to announce that it had arrived downstairs.

  “I’ll walk you down,” he added.

  Once we were down on the street, we approached the black cab that was parked along the kerb. Taking advantage of his long legs, he strode to reach it first so that he could open the door for me. I couldn’t resist grinning at him.

  “Thank you,” I said and halted in front of the open door to face him. “I had a wonderful time, and you’re an excellent cook.”