Stay The Night: Small Town Bachelor Halloween Romance (Small Town Bachelor Romance Book 5)

by Abby Knox

  “Mom!”

  “Love you, bye-bye.”

  “Love you, too.”

  He hung up the phone and wondered what in the hell he had just agreed to.

  Adam squinted across the street but couldn’t see what was going on in the makeshift church behind the glare of the glass. Not wanting to make it known he was eyeballing them, he left and got back to some paperwork related to a spate of vehicle break-ins.

  On the way home from work, Adam stopped and picked up some soda and red meat to go with his exciting Saturday afternoon of Scotch and college football. As an outsider in Birchdale with crazy work hours, football season saw him alone in his apartment with only himself, a large, comfy recliner, and a 72-inch screen.

  Hours later, full of Scotch and steak, he celebrated his favorite team’s win by taking a wobbly trip to his spotless, white-tiled bathroom for a piss and a hot bath. He fell into bed naked, wet and drunk on top of the sheets, ass to the sky.

  Before he fell asleep, he had the fleeting thought that it would be nice to have a person next to him. A soft person who smelled good and who would maybe take pity on his drunk ass and cover him up with a blanket. Maybe she would bring him some water and ibuprofen and kiss him on the forehead. Maybe she would be annoyed but maybe she would be giggly and slightly drunk, too. Maybe she would have slipped into the tub with him and taken advantage of his useless drunk ass. Would he mind? Hell no.

  Before long, the detective was asleep and dreaming.

  But it wasn’t just any dream. It wasn’t like any kind of Scotch-soaked dream he was used to. It was lucid and vivid, and not full of weird, Dalí-esque imagery.

  He saw a woman. A petite but strong woman sitting in a dark, candlelit room, eyes closed. She was quiet but her lips were moving. Adam somehow knew he was at home in his bed, but he felt completely present in the strange room with this woman, sitting cross-legged on the floor across from him. This room belonged to her, he felt. She was talking to someone, or something.

  She appeared to be in her early 30s. A natural beauty. Muscular legs and arms. Tanned. Ridiculously long blonde hair. Almost down to her waist. She looked wild and free. Her fingernails were a strange shade of purple. She had full, round, sexy lips. She wore a peasant blouse with a drawstring at the top which was tied in a loose knot at the dip between her collarbones. Her neck was graceful and appeared soft. It beckoned him to come closer and inhale her perfume. His gaze fell to her breasts. In waking hours, he would glance away and feel ungentlemanly and embarrassed whenever he caught himself staring at a woman’s breasts. But somehow she was inviting him to look. Whatever it was she was saying under her breath, it was inviting him to look, and to touch.

  He reached out to touch her hair. It was soft and released her scent when he touched it. He was immediately turned on.

  The detective’s hand went to her cheek and began to travel down her neck, until she suddenly opened her eyes, taking him by surprise. The woman touched his hand and told him, without moving her lips, to do whatever he wished with her. His manhood rose at her command.

  Adam went for it. He hurriedly untied her lace-up blouse and helped it fall open, its embroidered yellow daisies falling to the sides. He tugged at the laces and the shirt fell open wider, revealing large, amazing tits.

  Maintaining eye contact, he cupped her breast and her blue eyes flashed in pleasure. He squeezed her soft pink nipple until it hardened. Her cheeks flushed and she let out a small moan. He would never be so forward, even on a one-night stand. But whatever kind of meeting this was, it was perfect for an introvert like himself. All in his head. Or so he thought.

  With one swift movement and a primal growl, the detective pulled the woman onto his lap. His pelvis ached to be fused to hers.

  “How bad do you want me?” she asked.

  “I was rock hard the second I touched you. Who are you?”

  “No names. Just us,” she said. “It’s OK. None of this is real.”

  But holy shit, if he didn’t wish this woman was real when she lifted her gauzy skirt and saw all of her luscious body. When he looked down, he also noticed that somehow his pants were gone. The woman effortlessly adjusted herself on his lap, and then without warning, devoured his rock-hard cock with her slick warmth. He wanted a name so he could have something to say as she squeezed tightly around him.

  “Bite me,” she whispered. The detective gladly obliged and took both breasts in his hands and nipped at them gently. The woman put her hands in his hair and growled, “Harder. Bite me. For real.”

  He hesitated but then gave himself permission, taking her flesh into his mouth, biting, sucking, knowing this would leave a huge hickey on her. As he bit, she moaned and flexed her thighs around him, thrusting until he couldn’t possibly go deeper.

  “Girl, you’re killing me,” he said as she thrusted against him, her legs crisscrossed behind his back. He felt like an animal and was desperately trying to control his excitement. But damn, her movement was furious and insistent. He held on for as long as he could, but she was riding him with purpose. In a short while, she drew out his orgasm in one powerful thrust that felt like delicious lightning radiating through every cell in his body.

  She cried out and trembled, gripping him against her as her cervix contracted around him in a breathless climax. And in the next moment, she was gone.

  When Adam woke up, he was still on top of his covers, but now his bed was a mess. He rolled over, out of breath, covered in sweat, in wonder at the insanely technicolor sex dream he had just experienced.

  He knew somewhere deep inside this wasn’t just a dream. But he told himself it was just a dream so he could relax and go to sleep.

  That female was real. Her scent is still on you, man.

  She wasn’t real. None of that is possible.

  “Sleep it off, Adam Corey, you’re drunk,” he slurred into his pillow.

  Whatever, or whoever, had happened to him, he was going to investigate in the morning.