Mr Right Now: A Romantic Comedy Standalone

by Lila Monroe

  “No,” I break in. “I’m asking if you’ll do the stripping.”

  He pauses, then bursts out laughing

  “I’m not kidding,” I say. “I— The bride got it in her head that there’s supposed to be a stripper, but no one told me— Please. Pretty please. With a cherry on top?” I bat my eyelashes. OK, so I’m more than a little drunk.

  Drew stops. “Wait, you really want me to do this?”

  “You can pull it off. I mean, um, figuratively as well as literally. She’s counting on me. I’m sorry, I know it’s ridiculous, you wouldn’t even have to get naked, just, you know, almost?”

  “Okay.”

  This time, I’m struck dumb. “You will?”

  He grins. “What’s a little humiliation between friends?”

  “Oh my god!” I squeal. “You’re a lifesaver. Thank you so much.”

  “But let’s be clear.” He steps closer, and teases one fingertip at the lacy neckline of my shirt. “You are absolutely going to owe me. and I’m going to enjoy collecting.”

  “Done,” I promise quickly. “Come on!”

  We dash back to the bar, and find the ladies rowdy and hyped up. They greet Drew with cheers and yells, and even though he looks a little apprehensive, I can tell the applause is helping win him over to this crazy plan.

  “Yes!” Sara shrieks. “Get your dollar bills ready, ladies!”

  Drew follows me to the front of the room. “So what exactly am I going to be dancing to?”

  Oh crap. I forgot about the music. “There’s a sound system set up,” I say. “I’m sure I can find you something.”

  He gives me a skeptical glance, but his smile is amused. I’m so, so lucky that he’s this game. How many other guys would strip for a room of strangers just because I asked?

  Try zero.

  I race to the sound system controls. One of the girls has plugged in her phone with a playlist going, so I scroll through her collection, not entirely sure what I’m looking for but hoping it’ll hit me when I see it.

  My thumb pauses. A smile stretches across my face. Oh, yes. How can I resist? He might kill me afterward, but I’m pretty sure I’ll die happy.

  I tap the play button. The opening chords of Category 5’s biggest hit blasts from the speakers, with Drew’s youthful voice crooning right on the beat.

  You say you ain’t got time, but that’s not what we need, girl. One day, two hearts, we’ll be heard around the world.

  Drew shoots me a look, but his mouth is twitching in the effort not to laugh. “Here we go, ladies,” he says. And to my eternal delight, he launches into the hokey music video dance moves I was needling him about that first night we hung out.

  It’s 2006 up in here, and man, he’s still got it.

  A shuffle here, a sway there, an I-don’t-even-know-what-that’s-supposed-to-be with his arms. He manages to kick off his shoes in the middle of a bit of step-work, and the girls shriek for more.

  Step-slide, and there goes one sock. Another to the right, and he’s barefoot now. As the song swells into the chorus, Drew waggles his eyebrows and eases up the bottom of his shirt.

  I’m not asking for forever, just let me be your Mr. Right-Now.

  My clientele knows perfect abs when they see them. The girls break into a chorus of hoots and hollers.

  “Yeah! Take it all off!”

  Drew teases, a little higher, a little lower, then yanks it right over his head. The crowd goes wild. He tosses the shirt to his audience, and Sara snatches it out of the air. She waves it like a victory flag, cheering him on.

  He’s in his element now, I can tell. He might not have been on tour in years, but he’s a natural performer, and he knows how to put on a show. Drew swivels and sidles, swaying his hips, and I can’t stop laughing. When he reaches for his belt buckle, the hoots come louder. He clicks it open and snaps the belt off, rubbing it behind his back before tossing that to the sidelines too. He’s hamming it up, totally cheesy. But are my eyes glued to that body as he undoes the top of his jeans?

  You’d better believe it.

  Drew takes his time wriggling out of his jeans, managing to keep up most of his dance steps at the same time. Blondie claps her hands at the front of the pack. Ava lets out a catcall. Even if I hadn’t felt him up against me more than once, I’d be able to tell just by looking that what he’s packing in those boxer-briefs is impressive. I let out a whoop, and he glances over with a wink that’s just for me.

  I figure that’s it, he doesn’t need to go all the way. The girls are already out of their seats, having a great time, but then he slides his thumbs along the elastic of his boxer-briefs. “That’s right! Come on!” someone calls out.

  Wait, what?

  The final chorus in “Mr. Right-Now” peaks, and Drew teases, gyrating around.

  He wouldn’t, would he?

  I lean forward in anticipation, watching his body move. But just when I think he might actually go all the way, Drew strikes a pose to the final chords. “That’s all, ladies!” he announces, as they groan. “You can’t handle the full monty.”

  There’s cheering and laughter. The girls toss cash at Drew while he gathers up his clothes. “That’s all right, ladies,” he says. “That dance was on the house, courtesy of Maggie Hayes.”

  He ambles over to me, still shirtless, and kisses me in front of everyone. My pulse flutters and the rest of me melts. When he pulls back, he lowers his mouth to just beside my ear. His voice in that moment is the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.

  “And I’ll be collecting on what you owe later tonight.”

  13

  Maggie

  Drew hangs out at the bar until I’m done clearing up the cake debris—and accepting my praise for what the entire group declares the best bachelorette party ever. Usually, I love to linger and chat, but tonight, I’m counting down until I finally can slip out the door with Drew and make my escape. We walk the five blocks back to his place at a breakneck pace. He grips my hand, his fingers twining with mine. The stroke of his thumb over my knuckles sends tingles up my arm. My heart thumps at a heady rhythm.

  “I’ve got Charlie set up in a hotel,” he says as we start up the stairs. “With strict instructions to occupy himself for the next twenty-four hours.”

  “And I guess we can assume no rapping police officers will be stopping by.”

  “Or wayward bachelorettes,” Drew grins.

  I laugh. “You better bolt the door, just in case.”

  He kicks the door shut behind us the second we’re inside. “Phone off,” he says, holding it up for my confirmation before chucking it onto the hall table. “Deadbolt engaged.” He twists the lock. “Nothing short of an alien invasion is going to get in the way of all the wicked fun I intend to have with you tonight.”

  “Don’t tempt fate,” I say, and then he’s kissing me, and the only thing tempting me in the whole world is him.

  Drew kisses me long and hard right there by the front door, as if he’s parched and I’m the first drink he’s seen in years. He teases his fingers into my hair and then lets them roam down my body, hot and possessive. I lean into his touch, into him. The second my body presses against his, I can feel he’s already hard.

  I palm him through his jeans, and he groans. Somehow he manages to walk us backward toward his bedroom while kissing me at the same time. I let him steer me, already mindless. My skin blazes everywhere he touches, and I’m grabbing at him hungrily.

  Drew reaches for the straps of my dress, but then he pauses. “No,” he says, with a wicked look. “You still owe me. You got your dance for your party. I think I deserve a little show now.”

  He wants what?

  My body tenses instinctively at the idea. But it’s not as if he’s ever seemed anything but pleased with how I look … and I do owe him. “Are you sure that’s how you want to collect?” I check. “I was thinking something more … hands on.”

  And mouths. And tongues.

  But Drew seems to want a show.
He settles back on the king-sized bed, watching me with a grin.

  “Oh, yeah.” His gaze roves up and down my curves, nothing but hunger in his expression. “I can already tell it’s going to be unforgettable.”

  “What about music?” I protest, feeling suddenly exposed.

  Drew reaches for the nightstand, grabs a remote, and then a moment later, the room is flooded with a low, sexy song, playing from invisible speakers all around.

  Be careful what you wish for.

  OK.

  I take a deep breath, and try to get my seductive game face on. He wants a dance? I’ll give him one—and then I expect that ravishing to pick right up where we left off. But I can’t help feeling a tremor of nerves. I’ve always had decent self-esteem when it comes to my curves—and I’ve never had any complaints—but Drew has dated movie stars and fashion models, the kind of perfect bodies you just don’t get in real life.

  Yet again, I’m reminded of the massive gulf between our lives. Sure, we started out just a few houses from each other, but his life took him first class around the world, while I carried on as normal. College. Work. Dating.

  But you’re both in the same place right now, I remind myself. He’s made it clear he wants me, so I’m not going to let a little performance anxiety ruin what promises to be a night of amazing sex.

  The beat is smooth and sensual, and I start to sway to the rhythm, stroking my hands up my body. I tousle my hair and toss it back over my shoulders. Drew’s appreciative grin tells me I’m on the right track.

  Slowly, I slide down the zipper on my dress. With a little shimmy, it drops to my waist, and then my feet. I kick it aside, and take a slow spin in my bra and panties. When my eyes meet Drew’s again, he’s practically combusting, and it gives me a shot of confidence to take this further.

  I hook a finger under one of my bra straps and edge it down. Then the other, letting my thumb graze down my side where I want to feel his touch. Soon. I reach back to unhook the bra. Drew licks his lips.

  “Like what you see?” I ask,

  “Forget ‘like,’” he says roughly. “I love it.”

  I ease my bra down, a quick teasing wiggle before I toss it aside. Drew leans forward. “Come here,” he says, his voice smoldering now too, but I’m having too much fun fanning those flames.

  “Uh-uh,” I say, waggling a finger at him. “You asked for a show, and you’re going to get the whole thing.”

  He makes a noise of protest, but he sits back again. I trace my thumbs along the top of my panties. Slip one under the fabric, and the other. Make another sultry swivel of my hips. Then I let the silky fabric fall.

  A few beads of sweat glisten on Drew’s sculpted chest. His hard-on strains against his jeans. He shifts forward to meet me as I crawl up the bed, but I set my hand on his chest and shove him back.

  He groans.

  “Maggie,” he says, his voice so ragged I could almost come just from that.

  “Don’t worry, I’m going to take care of you.” I unzip his jeans and tug them down. His cock bulges in his briefs like it’s been waiting just for me. I drag down that last layer separating me from my prize and lower my head.

  “Maggie!”

  I hear the pure desire in this voice as I slick my tongue up his length, followed by an inarticulate sound somewhere between desperate and ecstatic. I like that. I’ll take a little more, please. I lick a hot path around the head of his cock and suck it right into my mouth, precum salty on my tongue.

  Drew moans, his body arching. “God, that’s good.”

  I take him down as far as I can—damn, he’s big—and tease my lips back up with a swirl of my tongue. Drew clutches the sheets, his breath shaky. Another groan ripples out of him as I pulse over his cock with my mouth. Every sound he makes only makes me hotter. He tastes perfect, salty and musky. The perfect treat.

  “Maggie,” Drew groans again, and his fingers tangle in my hair. I suck him down one more time, and his hips jerk. He tugs me up. “Wait,” he gasps, breathing hard. “That feels amazing, but I’ve been waiting to feel you for days now. I want you coming with me.”

  He pulls me into his arms, rolling to pin me beneath him on the mattress. I’m trapped against his hard weight, and damn, it feels amazing. He kisses me lazily, slow enough to make my blood boil, and then his hands are gliding over me, every inch, teasing and stroking me into a frenzy.

  “Condom?” I gasp, impatient. I close my hand around him, needing his hardness inside me already. But Drew pulls my hand away.

  “Not so fast,” he orders, so close his lips still brush mine, “I want to watch you come for me.”

  His fingers sink inside me, and fuck, he won’t have to wait long to get what he wants. I thrust against him, faster, as his tongue slicks over mine, and his fingers curl higher. Pulsing deeper until they hit that spot that makes my breath hitch and my muscles tremble.

  Drew grins against my mouth. His hand sets a steady rhythm, fingers inside me, his palm rubbing over my clit. With each pulse, pleasure floods me. “Oh, God,” I whimper. “I’m so close. Don’t stop.”

  “Never,” he growls. His finger thrust again, thick inside me, and I can’t hold back. My climax rips through me and I cry out, clutching the hard muscles of his shoulders as pleasure soars through my body.

  “That’s my girl.”

  I gasp for air, coming down, but despite the shimmer in my bloodstream, I’m not sated yet. Not when I know there’s so much more waiting for me.

  I kiss him hard, then look at him dead-on.

  “You. Inside me. Now.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  He gropes across the nightstand for a condom. I can’t resist slicking my thumb across the head of his cock again, spreading the moisture beading there just for me. He rolls on the condom and positions himself above me, and I part my thighs wider as he sinks right into my pussy.

  God, he’s huge. He fills me completely, with a burning ache that turns into the sharpest pleasure as he rolls his hips to drive even deeper. I hook my ankles behind him, and he groans.

  “Holy hell, Maggie.”

  I gasp as he thrusts into me at that steady, torturous pace until both our bodies are slick with sweat. My throat is raw from moaning, but I don’t care. I buck my hips into his rhythm, letting the pleasure carry me higher, higher. Drew runs his hands down my body and buries his head against my shoulder. His breath scalds the side of my neck. I whimper as he kisses me there hard, a pinch of teeth that sparks the flames inside me hotter.

  “So close,” I murmur, twisting against him. “So fucking close.”

  He chuckles raggedly and picks up his pace. My legs tighten around him. I don’t know how to do anything now except take everything he wants to give. And oh God, I am receiving with a quiver that builds through every nerve in my body until I’m ready to explode. Then he leans down to suck my nipple into his mouth and the added sensation sends me hurtling over the edge. My body clenches around him as shudder after shudder of bliss passes through me.

  Drew thrusts even faster, carrying me past that high and into another that seems to split me right open. I’m gasping with the pleasure of it when the muscles in his back tighten and I feel him surge inside. My body clenches around him and for a moment, we’re perfectly joined.

  Drew collapses against me.

  “Fucking spectacular,” he says. I make a noise of total agreement. As he cups my cheek to draw me in for a kiss so gentle it leaves me tingling again, I can’t imagine any two words that better describe this whole goddamn night.

  14

  Maggie

  The second time I wake up in Drew Delaney’s bed is infinitely more enjoyable than the first. I stretch between the soft sheets, the feel of them against my naked body reminding me of all the places his hands and mouth traveled last night. Mmm, so many pleasant memories.

  The man himself is sprawled beside me, his chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm that says he’s still completely dead to the world. His hair is a
dorably rumpled. With his face relaxed with sleep, it’s even easier to see the echoes of the boy he used to be.

  Based on last night, I’d choose the full-grown man any day.

  I resist the urge to run my hand over his muscled chest—after last night’s workout, he’s certainly earned the right to sleep in—and slip out of the bed. My gaze falls on a small pile of folded tees sitting on his dresser, and I grab one and tug it over my head. It just barely hits my thighs, skirting the boundaries of decency by an inch, but somehow I don’t think Drew will be offended.

  I pad out into the kitchen. Morning sunlight streams through the apartment with a euphoric glow—or maybe the euphoric part is just me. I glance toward the oven. My fingers twitch with the urge to put this feeling into food.

  Afterglow cupcakes: An airy angel food cake base, with a splash of Amaretto to bring to mind cherries long ago popped. Top with whipped cream in case you need some for a little morning-after frisky fun.

  I don’t actually have the ingredients to pull that off, but a quick browse through Drew’s cupboards gives me the basics for pancakes. “Mr. Right-Now” plays in my head as I measure and whip up the batter. I might even do a little “I just got lucky” dance to it as I pour the batter into the heated pan.

  “Whatever you’re doing, it smells amazing,” Drew says as he emerges from the bedroom with a stretch. “And it looks pretty great too.”

  I take a moment to appreciate the view. He hasn’t bothered to put on anything other than boxers, and I’m momentarily distracted by the flow of those muscles through his arms, shoulders, and chest.

  This man needs to come with a warning label.

  Then he sets eyes on me, and a heat sparks in his gaze. He strolls over and sets his hands on my waist, nuzzling my neck from behind. “Just when I thought you couldn’t look any sexier.”

  I laugh. “A big fan of bed-head, are you?”

  “I’m a big fan of you wearing this.” He tugs on the shirt gently. His body presses closer to mine as his hands skim up my sides. His fingers tease over my breasts. I arch back against him , and he presses his lips to my shoulder. With a pinch of my nipples, he has me gasping.

  “The pancakes are going to burn,” I murmur.