Her eyes slid from his as she whispered, "No, I couldn't."
Rad drew a deep breath at that.
Then she continued baldly, "At least, not until tonight."
A black eyebrow rose, and she rushed to continue, "And I'm not sure about tonight, either, not that you've asked."
He leaned back a little in his chair. "And if I were to ask?"
She bit her lip tentatively. "I don't know. Like I said, I'm not sure. It's not something I would take lightly—which is probably why I haven't done it already—and I'm not even sure that I could do it. So I wouldn't want t-to become involved in something and then not be able to go through with it."
He inclined his head in acknowledgement of her desire not to promise something she couldn't deliver. "I appreciate that."
"Especially with a man I don't know, and I'm sorry, but it's true, one I don't trust."
"Don't be sorry about that. It's smart not to trust anyone immediately."
One side of Andrea's mouth rose a little. "That's not a very good argument for one night stands."
Rad agreed. "That is, however, the sad reality of the situation."
"So why does it happen so many times a day to so many people?"
"There is a certain thrilling element to fucking someone new. A lot of people crave it."
"I don't think I have that gene."
"You don't really know, though, do you? You might find that you enjoy yourself immensely. I know I would personally see to it that you did."
That got him a full on smile. "No ego in your family—you got it all!" she joked, barely believing that she was sitting there calmly discussing the possibility of having sex with a man she'd met seventeen seconds ago. It was so unlike her; it would almost be worth the potential danger just to be able to tell her friends—especially Linda—that she'd done it.
They wouldn't believe her. They all thought she was terribly staid and boring in that department, and they weren't necessarily wrong. Still, she'd enjoy rubbing their noses in it.
She'd have to steal something as proof, or she knew they would just think she was talking big and hadn't really done it—although she had no idea what she would take.
He was grinning unrepentantly at her, pinning her with his intense gaze.
"I don't need to brag. I like women, and I've spent a considerable amount of time honing my skills." Rad leaned forward, whispering, "I have several, but I have one very specific fetish that encourages me to know how to please a woman."
"Oh?" There was a world she hadn't really delved into at all. Her sex life with Connor was pretty mundane. From the beginning, sometimes she enjoyed it, sometimes she didn't, and even those times that she did were less than spectacular. If she hadn't had a reasonably good relationship with her own body, she wouldn't have known what she was missing. Connor had never run very hot. He wasn't particularly sexually driven—at least not with her, which also contributed to her feelings of inadequacy, since he seemed to feel that way toward other women quite a bit—and long before they broke up, sex had dwindled down to nothing.
But she couldn't imagine the man who was sitting in front of her ever being disinterested in sex. Although it was well restrained, his inherent sexuality shone through in everything he did—even doing something as boring as sitting in a bar and drinking a beer all by himself.
"I have to admit to being pretty boring sexually, and I've never indulged in any fetishes at all."
His eyebrows rose again. "None? Ever?"
Andrea smiled. "None. Ever."
"I have to confess that I'm more surprised to hear about that than I was about the not having had a one night stand."
"Why?"
He looked away for a moment then back at her. "Because I felt you were quite a sensual creature the moment I saw you, and it's hard to reconcile that idea with what you've just told me."
"Oh."
He couldn't tell if she was embarrassed or not by what he'd just said, but he hoped she wasn't. "My fetish probably isn't like anything else you've ever heard of in regard to them."
"I haven't heard much," she replied, knowing she was telling him a little white lie, but she wasn't at all willing to reveal too much to him. She wasn't sure she ever would, even if they did get together.
"It involves the need to satisfy my partner. Giving my partner an orgasm is almost as good as having one myself. And, since most women are multi-orgasmic, it's almost like I am, too."
Andrea was giving Rad a bit of a skeptical look, which made him smile.
"You don't believe me."
"No, I don't." Her eyes darted to his. "Sorry."
"Don't be." He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned them on the table in front of him. "There's really only one way for you to find out if I'm lying, you know."
She was blushing again, and he liked it. He liked it a lot, wondering if that little bit of embarrassment was getting her wet. She was more fidgety now than she had been when she sat down, so he thought it was probably a reasonable assumption.
"Come home with me." It wasn't a question. In fact, it flirted with sounding like an order, but said in that seductive accent of his, its edge was blunted somewhat.
That brought up another question for her. To whose house should they go, ideally? She didn't really want to take him to her house—the one she'd gotten in the divorce. Then he'd know where she lived.
But going to his house was just as iffy, as far as she was concerned. What if he tried to keep her there against her will? She knew she was being paranoid, and that was yet another reason why she'd really never considered doing this.
But he was way ahead of her, being well-practiced in situations such as this.
"You drive yourself, Andrea, and then you'll have your car there, and you can leave any time you like. You're not dependent on me—not that I'm not trustworthy, but I can see that you're apprehensive, and none of my reassurances about the fact that I'm not a serial killer really mean anything to you at this point."
He stood, putting his hand out to her again. "I would love the honor of being your first one night stand. I find the idea very tantalizing. You're practically virginal."
She snorted at that. "No, I'm not."
"But you're still very innocent sexually, and I'm definitely interested in corrupting you as much as possible, if you'll let me." The sentence was delivered in a thoroughly indecent growl that instantly peaked her nipples.
His hand hadn't waivered, and he stood there patiently while she thought it over.
Eventually, when she hadn't made up her mind, he began to speak, low and slow, his tone at least as seductive as his words as he leaned over—not too close, but close enough—to whisper huskily, "I promise you won't regret it, my dear. I will make you come so hard, you'll think you're going to faint from it, and you'll definitely see stars."
He was so confident in his abilities—it was almost obscene. But she didn't really doubt him, either.
He'd almost given up on her when she finally stood slowly, placing her hand in his. He squeezed it gently, noting how cold and clammy her fingers were against the warmth of his.
Andrea reclaimed her hand—which he reluctantly allowed—and made as if to go.
"Wait."
She turned back to him.
Rad said firmly, "While we're here, call someone and let them know that you're going home with someone and you'll text them when you leave to let them know you're okay."
Andrea frowned. That was exactly what she didn't want to do!
He was at the bar, paying the bill, and when he came back, she was still staring at her phone.
"Did you call?" He seemed to have some kind of hyper awareness of her, and he'd noted that he hadn't heard her talking to anyone while he was with the bartender.
"No. I don't know who to call who isn't going to razz me over it."
His smile was gentle, but his voice was no-nonsense. "Pick someone, Andrea, so we can go."
In the end, she called her favorite aunt,
who lived across the country and didn't know any of her friends, so she knew she wouldn't be spending the rest of the evening gossiping about her and wondering what kind of guy had managed to get her into bed.
Her aunt—who was the loud-mouthed black sheep of the family, and after whom she took—was a little surprised by the call, but she thanked her for being security conscious. Andrea was laughing so hard by the time she ended the call that he was staring down at her quizzically.
She could summon a reasonable impression of her aunt and did so for him, in between cracking up. "My Great Aunt Biddy said, and I quote, 'It's about damned time you got back on the horse, girl! And I hope, for your sake, he's hung like one. You tell that young man to take care of you. Make sure you have an orgasm—or twelve! Don't let him off the hook until you're satisfied.'"
"Something tells me I would really like your Great Aunt Biddy."
"Well, if you like me, you'll like her. We're very much alike, much to our family's disgust."
"Not everyone's favorite, is she?"
"Neither of us is, but that's okay."
He walked her to her car and gave her his address to put into her GPS.
"I drive a white Lincoln, and if I'm not there by the time you get there, go to the door around back. There's a key hidden on the deck post behind the spirea on the right side. It's on a nail at the back of the post."
She wasn't really listening to him at this point, which was probably good since she had no idea what a spirea was. Andrea had already wandered away from him and was standing at the driver's door, just waiting for him to stop talking. She was already halfway to deciding not to go, in the harsh light of reality.
"Andrea." He could tell she was drifting away from him—in every way possible—and he didn't want to lose her. He'd bet she hadn't heard a word he'd said to her.
His next "Andrea" wasn't really louder, but it was much more powerful. It shocked the glazed, frightened doe look off her face that made him want to convince her to let him drive her, but he knew he shouldn't do that, for her own comfort and feelings of safety.
"Why don't you follow me and use the GPS if we get separated."
"Okay."
At least then he'd know if she decided against it during the drive. And he really hoped she didn't do that.
Chapter 2
Traffic was lighter than it might have been, and she was able to stay right behind him all the way to his place in the burbs, east of the city.
It was a very nice house—several tiers better than what she'd grown up in, that was for sure. It had a large yard and a long driveway, so there was a lot of privacy. She pulled her Ford Fusion up next to his big Lincoln. She was going to chide him for having a gas hog like that, but then she watched him unfold himself from even that big car and was reminded how tall—most of which was leg—he was, and she'd bet he would have had a hard time cramming himself into her car without ending up sucking on his kneecaps.
He came around and opened her door. Andrea grabbed her purse and got out to stand next to him. Rad moved away, expecting her to follow him, but she didn't. She just stood there, clutching her purse to herself as if she thought she might need to use it as a shield against him.
He didn't get angry or impatient at her hesitance. He didn't do anything much, just turned and stood there and talked to her. "For what it's worth, you are safe with me. I like women more than I like men overall, and I have never in my life done any kind of physical harm to a woman." He was wearing a bit of a sheepish grin that—if anything—made him even better looking. "My mother and grandmother would have my ass on a platter if I did."
She looked a little less nervous, but not much, and he decided to do something that would likely either make or break the situation.
Rad took the two or so steps back to her, pulling her into his arms—pocketbook and all—and leaned down to kiss her tenderly but passionately. To his surprise, she melted against him, as if that's what she'd needed him to do the entire time. Andrea's mouth parted a little shyly beneath his, and he took full advantage of how she was yielding to him, tongue sweeping past her lips to boldly explore her mouth.
Although rampant parts of him wanted him to lay her down on the soft grass and have her right there and then, he clamped down hard on his desires, forcing himself to lean away from her to confess hoarsely, "I've wanted to do that to you since I walked into the bar."
Andrea was a little stunned by how she'd gone from a simmer to a boil in a matter of seconds. He was potent as hell! And when he took her hand and began to lead her toward his house, she let him.
"You have a beautiful home," she complimented.
"Thank you." Rad looked around him as they stood in the foyer, saying, "This is the house I grew up in—well, after we moved here, anyway, during my high school years—my mom and dad and I."
She chuckled. "This would make three of the house I grew up in, easily. And there were five in my family, four of whom were women, with one bathroom."
"Did your father ever get to use it?" he asked with a smile as he began to walk through the house.
Andrea followed him, if with a noticeable reticence. "Oh yeah. At night, after we all went to sleep, or in the morning, before we all got up."
"I'm surprised you don't live in England, considering your accent."
"Oh, there's a family home there, too." More than one, but she didn't need to worry about that. "It's where I spent a lot of my vacations once we moved. I'm afraid I'm pretty British, through and through, despite the fact that I live here."
His room was at the back of the house, taking up the entire area. He'd remodeled it so there was a master suite once he'd inherited the house from his mother, who no longer wanted to cope with its size or upkeep.
Rad opened the French doors and stepped into the room.
She remained just outside it, in the hallway, peering in, but apparently unable to take that last step—at the moment, anyway.
As much as he wanted to whisk her up into his arms and lay her down on the bed, he knew that was not the thing to do. So he busied himself with turning the lights on, using the dimmer switch to keep them low. He lit a softly scented candle that he kept on his bureau to add to the ambiance. It was supposed to be a relaxing scent, and he knew he was going to be able to tell whether that was hogwash by whether or not it helped her. A small, unobtrusive Bluetooth speaker began to play quiet, instrumental music seconds later, just before he turned back to her.
She was in exactly the same spot in which he'd left her.
"Does this mean that you prefer the hallway to a nice comfortable bed?" he teased.
Her "no" was entirely too subdued for him, and she couldn't seem to meet his eyes.
Rad came to stand a few feet away from her, hands clasped in front of him. "Cold feet?"
"Cold everything," she shot back emphatically.
Then he noticed something that he hoped he hadn't missed before. "You're shaking!"
"Yeah," she admitted, embarrassed. "When I get nervous, I'm just useless."
He frowned down at her, and it was the first time she felt she had a reason to be nervous. His expression was quite foreboding.
"What'd I do that pissed you off so?"
"I don't like people—women in particular—putting themselves down."
Andrea shrugged. "That's not putting myself down. That's admitting the truth. When I get truly nervous, my brain gets all foggy, I get terribly cold, and I shake."
"I don't want this to be traumatic for you, Andrea."
"I know. You're not doing anything to make me feel this way. I'm just terrified of trying new things, but sometimes it's good to push past that, you know?"
"Would you like to call it off?" he asked solicitously, even though she could clearly see more than enough evidence that he wanted her.
She took a deep breath. "No. Not if you don't mind being a little patient with me."
"Of course not." Rad went to stand in the middle of the big room, near the end of the bed.
"Why don't you come undress me first? Then you'll be in control, and I'll end up more vulnerable than you."
"I don't know you very well, but I still think you're rarely—if ever—vulnerable, Rad."
"That's an interesting character reading."
She tilted her head a little before responding. "You exude confidence and control. I get the sense that you don't have to throw your weight around very much anymore, but that you didn't hesitate when you were younger, and you wouldn't now, either, if you thought you needed to."
He had a strong urge to ask her if she knew who he was, but he didn't. "Everything you're saying is pretty spot on. I don't think I realized I was so easily readable." Rad took off his cuff links and put them into the small ebony box on his dresser before stepping back to where he had been. "Come undress me, Andrea, or I'll do it myself." His voice lowered a notch. "And when I'm done, I'm going to do the same thing to you."
A shiver sizzled up her spine at that, and she stepped into his bedroom for the first time.
Rad gave her an encouraging smile as she walked slowly toward him, ending up right in front of him.
Andrea was very hesitant to do as he asked, even though she'd certainly undressed a man before, although, granted, it had been a while. Still, she believed what she'd said to him—in theory—that it was good to push herself every once in a while. So she reached up and undid his tie, draping it around her own neck for the moment, to keep her hands free.
"It looks much better on you."
Damn, she hated how easily she colored!
Cold fingers found the top button of his crisp white shirt, undoing it and the others, until she could stand behind him and pull it off him. It wasn't easy to do, either, because he was so tall.
Wanting an excuse not to look at his naked torso yet, she looked for a door and found it. "Is it okay for me to put these in your closet?"
"Absolutely, but that's the bathroom. The closet is to the left of it."
Just One Night Page 2