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First and Forever
Copyright © 2015 by Angelita Gill
ISBN: 978-1-61333-846-9
Cover art by Mina Carter
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
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Dedication
To David, my best friend and the man I love. You’re the total package.
First and Forever
A 1Night Stand Story
By
Angelita Gill
Chapter One
Brett didn’t realize her best friend had been calling her name until he appeared in the entry of her den, too distracted by the exciting news to answer him.
“Hey, you listening?” Lincoln asked, filling her doorway with his broad shoulders.
“Sorry. Checking my email. What’s up?” She swiveled in her chair.
His plaid blue-and-white button-up stretched across his chest and tapered along his torso as though custom-made. On any other man, it might have been boring shirt. On Lincoln, it emphasized his masculinity and cut physique. The color highlighted his sexy bedroom eyes, and since he’d left the first two buttons open, it showed off the strong column of his throat.
He pressed his palms on either side of the entry and leaned in. “The guys finished the alarm installation and left. All you need to do is pick a four-digit code.”
And all you need to do is stop turning me on, Linc.
Well, with the date of a lifetime she’d just scheduled with 1Night Stand, she’d fix that. Her one-night stand was scheduled to take place in a private, decadent villa. Madame Eve, the owner of the service, had promised the guy waiting for her would be everything Brett had described and more. Someone eager for a night of uninhibited sex, who would hold nothing back. After scribbling the details on a sticky note of when and where to be, she switched off her monitor. “Okay. Go ahead and think of one for me.”
“Brett, that kind of defeats the purpose,” he admonished, crossing his sculpted arms. “This is for your house, so you’re the one who has to do it. And no one should know your security code.”
“Not even my best friend whom I trust implicitly?” She batted her lashes, folding the sticky note and tucking it in her bra.
His gaze darted to her chest then shot back to her eyes. “Nice try. Now get your little butt over here and get it done.”
“All right, all right.” She pushed off the chair and walked toward him. Would her date be tall and magnetic like him? Could he show off a pair of jeans and a shirt with cuffed sleeves as well as her childhood friend did?
God, but he did look fine today.
Every day.
She pursed her lips, stopping in front of him. “Sorry for being a brat. Thanks for doing this.” On impulse, she hugged him, molding her body closer than she ever had before.
He hesitated then snaked his rock-hard arms around her. “Hey. Don’t mention it.”
Ah, his smell. She tried not to inhale too deeply and sighed. Difficult not to, the scent so familiar, comforting, a hint of the same old detergent he’d been using for years, the musky aftershave, and something innately Linc. All warm male heat around her, molding to her. They weren’t the hugging kind of pals, but she used any excuse nowadays to do it more often. She should pull away. Easier said than done.
Slipping out of his arms, she strove for a casual tone. “I still think this over-the-top system is unnecessary. I’ve never felt unsafe here. Not to mention, it seems redundant after that apocalypse-survival bag you gave me last year.”
Complete with pepper spray, a Taser, brass knuckles, a whistle, a battery charger, a first aid kit, and a heavy-duty flashlight. Those were the kind of presents she received from a guy friend who thought she could be too reckless to stay out of trouble. Sure, she had a bit of a free-spirited nature, but she hadn’t been reckless in forever. Until Saturday, that is. If making love to a sexy stranger was even considered reckless in a modern world.
Her lips twitched.
“What are you smiling about?” He brushed her chin with his thumb.
Sweet Jesus. The smallest touch from him, and her nipples hardened. “Nothing.” Needing space, she swung out to the hallway and faced the security system. “Now, how do I operate this thing?” Geez. The thing was some fancy gadget more suited to the Starship Enterprise than her two-story bungalow.
He followed her to the hall and stood behind her and way too close for comfort, his crotch at her ass, mouth near her ear. His baritone voice tickled the small hairs on her neck. “Hit ‘add key code,’ pick four numbers you can remember, then the ‘save’ button to confirm it.”
She suppressed a violent quiver and the insane desire to push back into him. If she did, would he wrap his arms around her, cup her breasts, and press her into the wall? Shove her shorts down and tell her he wanted her? No. Stop it. She cleared her throat and the inappropriate thoughts.
“Okay. No sweat. Are you gonna close your eyes so you can’t see my precious code?”
He chuckled, and put his back to her. “Bottom line, Brett, you’re a single woman living alone. There’s no such thing as too much protection. Even in a quiet suburb.”
“I know, I know.” She shouldn’t complain. He had a point. Plus, she’d always appreciated how he looked out for her. No one else did. She punched in four digits and her state-of-the-art alarm beeped loudly in confirmation. She swiveled around. “There. Happy now?”
Facing her, he gave a sexy smirk. “That took way longer than it should have, but yes,” he replied with a dry tone then winked.
Her heartbeat tripped—as it never used to with Lincoln. What was w
rong with her? With any luck, her 1Night Stand date would cure her. She almost couldn’t harness her anticipation for the upcoming weekend. Her fingers itched to get on her computer and begin writing.
“So…we’ll have to cut tonight a little short.”
“Oh yeah?” He swung an arm around her shoulders, giving her a couple squeezes. “New idea for an article?”
He knew her so well. “Yep. I want to start a draft ASAP, but it can wait till after we chow.”
At first, her editor hadn’t applauded the idea of her writing about one-night stands. However, after Brett did some research on the benefits—and the cons—via a well-known sex coach, she convinced her editor to give it the green light. After all, if the magazine could give advice on seduction and foreplay, why not a one-night stand?
She headed toward the staircase and started to climb the steps. “Shower time. By the way, I had to put the takeout menus in a bigger box near the phone. The stack got too thick for the junk drawer.”
“Now there’s a sign you order in too often. Maybe we should go to the Wok of Fire instead of calling it in,” he suggested. “We hardly ever eat out for our traditional third Thursday pig-out.”
Pausing on the stairs, she glanced over her shoulder. “You know what’ll happen.”
He raised a brow. “I’ll get to eat?”
“Yes, and you’ll buy me and everyone else hot sake shots until we’re sick then try to catch eggs while wearing the chef’s hat. Over and over. You’re famous for that there.”
His mouth curved with a slow smile—his devastating grin could melt black ice—and her stomach dipped to a breathless level.
“In other words,” he drawled, “I should call ahead and let them know we’re coming.”
Laughing, she ascended the rest of the steps, and—knowing his eyes were on her—pulled her tank top off, and unhooked her bra before disappearing into her bathroom.
She shouldn’t do things like that, but she couldn’t help but taunt him a little. Make him see her as more of a woman, less of a pal.
They’d met way back in seventh grade, both riding their bikes to school from the same side of town. She’d watched him grow from a bashful, scrawny, keenly inventive boy to a charming, strapping, responsible man’s man, who owned a consulting firm and held no less than three patents to his name. She was in awe of him.
But, over the past year, Brett had gone past awe. More like in heat. She wondered about things she used to never wonder about. Such as what his hands would feel like across her skin. If he preferred it fast and hard against the wall or nice and slow on the floor. Yeah, she had to quit that nonsense.
Instead, she should be thinking of this weekend. Would her date expect her to wear lingerie? Like her to arrive naked under a trench coat? Prefer her hair up or down? She should consult Tamsyn on this.
What would her date look like? Sound like? In the questionnaire, Brett had described her ideal type as dark-haired, brown-eyed, laid-back, and athletic. She’d more or less described Linc, well aware of it when she’d submitted her answers. Other than that, she kept an open mind. He could be funny or serious, fair or tan, with or without an accent. Sprinkles of mystery revived the soul. And, with any luck, her mystery man would ease this constant ache for Lincoln once and for all.
Once the bathroom door clicked shut, Lincoln blew out a long breath and combed his fingers through his hair. The woman would be the end of him. Though they were very comfortable with each other, he wished she wouldn’t undress in front of him as if he weren’t a grown man with a healthy dick in his pants. One quick glimpse of her naked back and he had a hard-on?
Been too long since he’d had a woman.
Something else concerned him more at the moment. The light in her eyes had returned—she was planning something—and he recognized it as easily as the pretty blend of brown and green in them.
What could Brett be up to now? She’d been stoked about whatever it was when he’d come into her den, and she didn’t seem inclined to share it. Strange this time she didn’t because she usually gushed about her exploits. God, he hoped whatever it was, it didn’t involve snakes, or speed, or machine guns. The things she did in the name of adventure for her job at the magazine, and her personal blog.
Since he’d be waiting for her for at least thirty minutes, he might as well get comfortable and check some baseball scores on ESPN.com. He plopped on the chair and faced her PC. A couple clicks of the mouse produced nothing, and it took him a second to realize all she’d done was turn off the monitor. He tapped the button, and the screen brightened before his eyes.
With an open email.
Respect for her privacy almost made him close it without reading a single line until three short words caught his attention.
One. Night. Stand.
Then three words of his own popped in his head.
What. The. Hell.
He had to know more.
Dear Miss Carver,
I am delighted to inform you I’ve found the perfect gentleman who will not only meet, but exceed, your every desire. I promise you a night like no other with your one-night stand. I can assure you this man is as eager for this as you are and will hold nothing back. So please be open to any and everything.
He’ll be waiting for you at the Westwood Estate Villa Resort Hotel on Saturday, 7:00 p.m., Villa 6.
Wishing you a very unforgettable evening, my dear.
Madame Eve
While Lincoln tried to absorb and make sense of what he’d read, panic, concern, and confusion raced through his veins.
So, he read the email again.
Why would Brett go for something like this?
Pretty, vivacious, intelligent...she never had any problem finding interested men, especially the kind who wanted to sleep with her. In fact, all she had to do was walk across the street and knock on her womanizing neighbor’s door if she’d been hankering for some male attention. It’d been over six months since she and her last boyfriend had split. Perhaps she needed a sure thing to get over it, though Linc never got the impression she had any regrets about it. Brett seemed happy.
He rubbed a hand over his face. It could be one of her crazy stunts for the magazine. Her devoted fans adored delving into her stories through her descriptive recounts about things like being a passenger in a fighter jet, swimming with sharks, or posing nude for art students. And now—an arranged one-night stand.
Driven by a fierce need for more details, he copied and pasted the sender’s email address in Google search. The result led to an eye-catching yet simple website with a black background and the words 1Night Stand fading left to right with an elegant flow. No flash. No links. Described as a discreet service for a man or woman with a longing for something extraordinary.
Frowning, he swung out of the cushioned seat, ready to march up the steps and talk some sense into Brett. He stopped on the landing. Dumb idea. He couldn’t say a word.
Jaw clenched, he strode back and plopped on the chair again. Reason told him to let it go. First of all, she’d be furious to know he read her email. Second, he could never talk her out of anything once her mind was set.
Damn it to hell.
In a few short days, she’d meet a guy for casual sex. The thought of some random selection touching Brett, some faceless man inside her body, had Linc’s insides knotting like fiery, tangled rope. Making him ill. Imagining her with another guy never used to anger him so much.
The burn reminded him of his cowardice. He’d known for a while his feelings for her went above and beyond friendship, but he never made a move, unsure of the timing, fearful of rejection.
He’d had her in his life since the awkward age of thirteen, when his family had relocated from Florida to Massachusetts. Linc had found nothing to like about the transfer.
Until he’d met Brett.
Her high energy and love of life had been too contagious to ignore. Coming from a strict background, he’d lived by his father’s regimented rules and under his mot
her’s indifference. When he’d seen the world through Brett’s eyes, he’d started to enjoy his youth. They’d been a good combo. She’d get into trouble; he’d save her.
And now he’d have to keep from going insane thinking about this one-night stand arrangement. Grabbing the mouse, he opened his email account, pasted Madame Eve’s address in the recipient box, and typed fast.
***
“Are you sure you w-want to go through with it?” Tamsyn asked.
Brett’s closest girlfriend from college wore a worried expression and gripped a mug of Oolong tea. Most would regard Tamsyn as shy, bookish, and gullible; her friend’s wild nature didn’t come out to play often.
“Of course, I’m sure.” Brett stirred the honey in her Earl Grey. Sitting at their favorite café the day before her big date, they’d just finished shopping for Brett’s special evening. “Tamsyn, are you trying to give me doubts? This was your idea. Don’t you want me to find out if the 1Night Stand service is as exceptional as it claims to be?”
“Well, yes, you know I do! But now that it’s all arranged, I feel bad I’m sending you out like a guinea piggy. The enigma of it all, too.” Tamsyn hunched over, lowering her voice. “You haven’t even seen a picture of him. How can you be sure she picked someone you’ll be attracted to? What if he’s a sloppy kisser…or f-freaky in bed?” Her slight stutter really came through when she was anxious.
“I guess I’ll find out on Saturday.” Brett shrugged. “The matchmaker knows what she’s doing. Sounds weird, but I got a good vibe from her through the emails. She’s very careful, does a thorough background check on every applicant. I trust her. I have a feeling tomorrow night will be exactly what I need.”
To think about someone other than my best friend when I go to bed at night.
Her friend peered at her. “You don’t seem nervous at all. I’d be.”
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