by Tara Andrews
“It’s fine,” he said.
The man at the podium cleared his throat. “Time to announce the winners of the auction items.”
A round of applause rose. Mark had almost forgotten about the auction. Of course, he’d bid on something since his main goal in attending had been to support the cause. But after being delayed by a swarm of fans on his way to the reception, he’d been more interested in finding Rachel in the crowd, afraid she might have skipped it altogether. So he hadn’t spent a great deal of time comparing and choosing auction items.
At the first table he’d come across, he entered a sizeable bid to ensure he won, without paying close attention to the details. It’d been a package of some sort that included a stay in Las Vegas. He liked Vegas well enough, though he planned to give the prize to his in-laws as a thank-you for taking such good care of Kelsey while he traveled.
As the announcer worked his way through the list of items, Mark offered to get Rachel a drink, but she shook her head.
One night. The idea planted by the note swirled in his mind. If they did spend the night together, would it be fair to either of them?
“And, now, the Las Vegas Night package donated by the generous Madame Evangeline. This package includes an all-inclusive stay in the penthouse suite of Castillo Resort and Casino. It also grants the winner the unique service her agency provides.”
Mark glanced over at Rachel, who met his stare, a crease between her brows. Las Vegas package…Madame Evangeline. 1Night Stand. Oh, God.
The announcer called his name.
Even above the applause, he heard Rachel’s quick intake of breath. Her eyes widened and color bloomed in her cheeks again. With a sudden whirl, she hurried away from him, slipped between the people in the crowd, and out of sight.
***
Oh, my God.
Rachel reached the elevators and scanned behind her, hoping Mark hadn’t followed. The pang of disappointment when she confirmed he hadn’t, hardly made sense. She’d believed his claim of innocence regarding the note. He’d looked as shocked as she felt at the mention of Madame Evangeline’s name. But how had Rachel wound up part of the whole 1Night Stand thing—and even before the winners were announced?
She stepped inside the glass elevator. Mark’s jacket slipped off her shoulders when she pushed the button for the twelfth floor. After removing the coat, she folded the shoulders together and buried her face in the fabric, inhaling the scent of his cologne. God, she needed therapy before she became some stalker fan-girl. With reluctance, she draped it over her arm, wondering how she’d get it back to him—without seeing him. She didn’t even know his room number to hang it on the doorknob.
Penthouse, midnight.
The thought floated through her mind, but she brushed it aside. The man wins some sort of one-night stand, and she’s the prize? No way. So what if the idea of a night with him had her core pulsing, more than ready for him to redeem his winnings.
She shot out of the elevator when the doors opened, as if Mark might decide to chase her after all. Though, if he did, it’d probably be to retrieve his coat. And that would hurt worse than him not coming at all. She opened the door leading to the suite she shared with her sister—and Jonathan, now.
Sasha sat on the couch in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, facing the scenic Vegas glitz outside.
Glad to find her twin awake, Rachel dropped her purse on the table beside the door and hurried over, ready to unload all that had happened. “You will not believe—” Words fled when she saw Sasha’s red, swollen eyes. “What’s the matter? Where’s Jonathan?”
Sasha sniffed and worried a tissue with her fingers. “We had a fight and he left.”
“Left? What happened?”
“He asked me to marry him,” Sasha wailed, and broke down in fresh tears.
Rachel sat at her side. She spotted a box of Kleenex on the coffee table, surrounded by a dozen or so balls of used tissues, she yanked out a few new sheets and handed them over. “And it made you mad?”
“Of course!” Sasha looked at her as if she had two heads. “Don’t you see?”
No, not really. But she didn’t want to upset her sister further, since Rachel had obviously missed something.
“He only asked because I’m pregnant.”
Ah-ha! Validation, at last. “Sasha, don’t think that way. He loves you.”
She jerked. “Hey, I just told you I’m pregnant, and I get no reaction?”
Rachel laughed. “I suspected you were. I’m not surprised, though I am a little pissed you didn’t tell me sooner. But I am happy for you. You and Jonathan.”
Sasha lay on her side with her head resting on the arm of the sofa and her legs stretched out behind Rachel. “I’m sorry.” She dabbed at her eyes again. “But I can’t believe he left me.”
“He’ll be back, Sasha.” He’d better be. Or Rachel would track him down and kick his ass. “But, listen, Victor found me earlier, and we have a problem. We need to talk.”
At first, she hadn’t planned on telling her about Mark, but it all came out, too. The mysterious message, the dance, his guessing about the performance, and even his criticism of it. Once she’d started talking, the ache in her heart grew in intensity. And the more she spoke, the clearer it became. She’d been given an opportunity and thrown it away.
“Oh, God, Sasha. I made a mistake.”
Reversing roles, Sasha sat beside her, a supportive arm around her. “So did I, but we can still fix it.”
“You think so?”
“Of course,” Sasha said then repeated with more conviction, “Of course we’ll fix it. We’re Turners, and when have we ever given up?”
Rachel shook her head. That might be true for Sasha; she’d always been the more adventurous and more ambitious of the two. Rachel always joked that it came with the trendier name. Their mother had chosen the name Sasha for one twin, while their father went a more traditional route and named her Rachel after his mom.
“You forget, you and Jonathan love one another. All that’s at stake between me and Mark is a single night.”
“And sometimes a single night is exactly what a person needs at the moment.”
Rachel gave a humorless laugh. “You’re basically telling me I need to get laid.”
“Oh, honey, you’re long overdue for a good—”
The door to the suite opened, cutting off Sasha’s naughty advice. Jonathan stepped inside. “I’m sorry.”
Sasha ran and jumped into his arms. They held each other tightly, and Rachel never doubted things would work out, since their love was so obvious. With her throat clogged by emotion, she headed toward her bedroom to give them privacy.
“Rachel, wait.” She turned around at Sasha’s request. “You’re going the wrong way.” She nodded toward a huge round brass clock adorning one of the walls. Ten to midnight.
“Sasha, I can’t. It has to be a joke. He hadn’t even won the bid at that point.”
“There’s only one way to find out.”
“You want me to head up to the penthouse suite and just knock on the door? We don’t know for sure who’ll be waiting there.”
Maybe Madame Evangeline found someone else to take her place. The idea nearly weakened her.
Sasha pointed toward the door. “I want you to have some faith, a little fun, and let yourself go. For one night.”
Chapter Four
Mark turned the note card over in his hand. The stationary matched the one given to Rachel earlier, the message similar.
Dear Mr. Travis,
Congratulations on winning my contribution for tonight’s event. 1Night Stand offers its clients a unique dating experience. It will be my pleasure to provide you with a night beyond your expectations, with a woman who can fulfill all your needs.
Since you have already met the woman I have in mind for you, I did not hesitate to arrange for Miss Turner to meet you at midnight in the penthouse suite. Enjoy your evening.
Sincerely,
&nbs
p; Madame Evangeline
Too tense to sit, Mark stood with his arms crossed and stared at the flickering flames in the gas fireplace of the penthouse suite. Midnight had passed a few minutes earlier. Had Rachel decided not to come?
Of course she had. With the way she’d run out of the ballroom, why would he think she’d show up?
Maybe he shouldn’t have come, either. He’d just met her—and the first time hadn’t exactly gone so smoothly. But when he closed his eyes, he imagined her body swaying against his while they’d danced. Could still smell her perfume and remember the way her blonde hair tickled his jaw. If he had drawn her in any closer, there would’ve been no way to hide his schoolboy response. In fact, his cock swelled again at the hope of spending the evening with her. If she showed. A one-night stand, though?
The doorbell broke off his thoughts and his heart beat an uncomfortable staccato rhythm. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d been so excited over a woman—at least not since…. Well, a long time.
He opened the door, and her head snapped up. Still wearing the same gown she’d had on earlier, she stood with his jacket draped over her arm and her other hand resting on top. Her teeth worried her bottom lip until his gaze dropped to her mouth and she released it, leaving the flesh slightly reddened. How he wanted nothing more than to pull her inside and taste that spot. But the doubt reflected in her eyes had him suppressing the urge—for now.
Bracing an arm on the wall beside the door, he smiled when he caught her assessment, taking him in from head to toe. The pace of her breathing increased. Doubtful or not, she wanted this as much as he did.
“Would you like to come in?”
Her cheeks fused with color, she held out the garment. “I wanted to return this.”
He didn’t move to take it, afraid once he rid her of the excuse, she’d bolt again. “Is that all you wanted?”
She hesitated, swallowed hard, then shook her head.
Straightening, Mark pushed the door open wider, giving her room to pass. He followed her into the living room, where she transferred the jacket onto the leather recliner.
She turned to face him, her back to the window and the lights of downtown Las Vegas.
“Would you like a drink?” he asked. The suite had come equipped with everything they would need for an evening. Beer, wine, and condoms.
“No, thank you.”
He moved closer. “You look nervous.” Which he found endearing. Preferring to be in control, he wouldn’t like someone too aggressive.
“I am,” she admitted. “I think if you just kissed—”
Enough said. Grabbing her wrist, he pulled until she fell against him. She gasped, her lush lips parting in surprise. He liked control, but he also aimed to please. Covering her mouth with his, he swept inside, their tongues meeting for an intimate dance.
She twisted free, then the welcome weight of her arms resting on his shoulders followed. At the delicious scrap of her nails on his scalp, he pulled her tight against his chest. With a thumb under the edge of the dress along her side, he ran a palm down her naked back, grazing a bare breast. His breath hitched at the bold discovery. The soft, hungry sounds coming from her formed a live wire that connected directly to his cock. It hardened, and when she nipped at his lip, he thought he’d come right then.
His hands plunged into her hair, but something sharp stabbed a knuckle and he sucked in a sharp breath without breaking contact. Rachel eased away, laughing.
“Careful.” She plucked out a comb and a few pins, releasing a mass of honey-blonde hair to fall over her shoulders and part way down her back. Then she shed her glasses and dropped everything on the coffee table beside her. At the sight of her, with her eyes free from their disguise, her mussed hair and kiss-swollen lips, his pulse sped up.
“Better?” she asked.
He almost groaned in response to her husky inquiry. “Have you been sufficiently kissed, as requested?”
She nodded and darted her tongue out to lick her bottom lip.
“Good. I’ve been dying to get inside you, and I don’t want to wait any longer.”
She inhaled and her eyes flared in surprise, but she didn’t move or protest. Closing the distance she’d created, he removed his cufflinks and tossed them on the low table to join her accessories before starting on the rest of his shirt buttons. He tugged the shirt free of his slacks and shrugged out of it, gratified when she released a soft sigh.
Her hand shot out, but retreated before making contact with his chest.
“Don’t get shy on me again,” he said.
Rachel shook as she reached out to touch him. She didn’t know why she’d hesitated before. Maybe it was the look in his eyes—bold, hot, and ready to devour her.
She touched him now. His skin warmed her fingertips as they skimmed over the ripples of his abdomen. Then she moved upward to the head of a Japanese-style dragon resting on his left pec. The body of the tattoo wrapped around his shoulder and continued down to his elbow. Panting, she traced the form.
She’d seen him perform without a shirt and had always been fascinated with his choice of body art. In addition to the dragon, a skull adorned his forearm on the same side, while his other arm remained free of ink. Though, he did have the title of his first, number-one song, “Beautiful Ride,” scripted on his right ribcage. She wanted to explore them all, but he gripped both of her wrists, his eyes focused on her.
“Enough. You can touch all you want later. But right now I want that dress off of you.” His warm caress glided along her shoulder and beneath her hair. The halter neck tightened for a second, then dropped down her front.
She caught the material before it fell all the way.
“Let it go.” The rumble in his voice vibrated across her skin. She shivered as goose bumps erupted along her sides. Moisture tickled her inner thighs, her already drenched panties useless to contain his effect on her. She released the dress. The jeweled collar weighed down the fabric, but it still caught at her hips. Mark took care of it, pushing the material over her curves so it fell around her feet.
Given the way his gaze raked over every inch of her, it had been a good idea to remove the adhesive cups from her breasts before coming. Not a sexy look. Removing them also left her more sensitive than usual. When he’d grazed her breast before, she wanted to pull away and lean toward him at the same time. And right then, she’d do anything to have his hands on her again, even stand in her panties and heels while his eyes darkened and the bulge in his pants grew.
“Now, your turn,” she prompted.
“Impatient?”
“Very.”
His low-keyed laugh resonated deep in her belly, sending tingles southbound between her legs. She pressed her thighs together, hoping the action would offer some relief. He seemed to like being in charge, which she usually enjoyed—except when left on a slow simmer for too long. If he didn’t touch her soon, get inside her as promised, she might need to go ahead and jump him.
His shoulders bunched and arm muscles flexed with the movement of unfastening his belt and the front of his pants. “Me, too.” He dug in a pocket and produced a silver packet. “Hold this.”
She took it, but it slipped from her grip when his mouth claimed hers. Her hands fisted in his hair and his in hers. He smiled, though he didn’t stop the greedy invasion of her mouth. With a gentle suction, he pulled on her tongue, drawing out a moan. His erection, still partly covered by his boxers through the V of his open slacks, rubbed against her belly. She wanted it lower, needed it lower.
Her legs bumped against the soft suede of the couch. So distracted, she hadn’t been aware of the backward motion. Mark steadied her around the waist and leaned her back, but she still held onto his shoulders. His face drifted down and she tilted her head, granting him access to her neck. The rasp of his warm wet tongue and the gentle tug of his lips had her opening her legs. At last, his firm shaft pressed against her, and she sought relief.
Mark pulled away, a smile gracing hi
s perfect lips. He fished inside his pocket again and presented her with another packet. “Try not to drop this one.”
Supported by his hold, she tore the foil with her teeth. He squeezed her hips and his jaw tightened. She expected him to take the condom from her bite, but instead he cupped one of her breasts, and with his thumb and index finger, pinched her nipple. She read the challenge in his eyes, daring her to make the next move. Fine.
She slid her palms around the waistband of his pants and boxers and forced them past his hips. His erection sprang free, the hard shaft hitting her belly. She ran a light caress over the silken, veined length before circling it with her fingers.
“Turn around for me.” Mark snatched the condom from her lips before his mouth covered hers.
God, would it set the women’s movement back if she admitted she found his orders way too hot and easy to follow. She spun to brace herself on the arm of the couch. He whipped her soaked panties down around her knees. She looked over her shoulder, fascinated by the sight of him rolling on the condom.
Their gazes locked as he pressed the tip of this cock between her legs. Oh, God! She couldn’t believe this was happening.
He gripped her hips and filled her. Stretched her. Her head fell forward and she moaned then he retreated and thrust. Her pussy contracted around him, but he pulled out and slammed back inside. A delicious tingle flickered low in her belly, traveling down to her core. Each time he drove into her she met his thrusts, hoping to come.
With one hand on her hip, he slid the other down the outside of her thigh then around to circle her throbbing clit. She whimpered. So close. Then he flicked it, and she burst. Colors exploded behind her eyelids, her body weakening. Still, Mark held her in place and pounded into her, dragging out her release.
He followed right after with an, “Oh, fuck.”
She hadn’t realized how tight his grip had been until he let go of her hip and cool air hit the sore spot. He helped her to stand, securing her against his chest.