Box of 1Night Stands: 21 Sizzling Nights

by Anthology

  She traced her fingertip along the edge of the aluminum rim toward the button.

  “Wait.”

  Selea glanced at him, her brows lifted.

  “I’m not sure I rigged it right.”

  “Rigged what?”

  “The goggles.” He gestured toward them. “To kill the nanites.”

  Her brows knitted. “Haven’t you done this kind of thing before?”

  “I’ve read about the theory.” He ran a hand through his hair. “But those goggles are new tech to me. They’ll either work, or they’ll….”

  Selea pursed her lips. “Better than being controlled.” She reached for the button.

  “Wait.”

  She paused. “What?”

  Rising to his feet, he said, “Isn’t there something you want to tell me?”

  “Thank you for saving me.”

  “No.” He strode across the room to stand before her. “Tell me how you feel about me.”

  Her indigo eyes sparkled behind the goggles, and longing filled him. He’d loved her eyes, had the moment he’d gazed into them, and he’d been lost ever since. Selea opened her mouth to answer him, but his heart compelled him to hold his hand up.

  “Wait.”

  “What now?”

  “I don’t want you to say something because I told you to.”

  Exacerbation laced her breathy exhale.

  Rhykar gathered her into his arms, her skin silky beneath his palms. If he’d mis-rigged the goggles, then they’d go together. He couldn’t imagine returning to a life without her. “When I kiss you, hit the power button.”

  “But—”

  “Just hush and do it.” He tilted his head and leaned toward her. “I love you, Selea.”

  He crushed his mouth to hers, tasting the sweetness he’d craved for so long. His only regret was not following through on his attraction sooner. But his obsession with exposing a madman had seemed at overwhelming odds with her determination to stop him. Of course, now that he held her in his arms, it appeared anything was possible.

  He indulged in her lips a moment longer before breaking the kiss and pressing his forehead to hers. “Did you do it?”

  “Yes,” she said in a breathy whisper. “You told me to.”

  He eased from her and pulled the goggles from her head, scrutinizing them for an indication as to whether they’d done the job or not. Finding nothing, he lifted his gaze to hers. “How do you feel? Headache, nausea, anything?”

  “Nothing.” She frowned. “Did it work?”

  An alarm blared. Rhykar twisted toward the doorway and drew his gun. “Drek. We’ve got to go.”

  Taking her hand, he headed out into the hallway, knowing the guards wouldn’t be far behind. A few turns later, he skidded to a stop, and Selea stumbled into him.

  “What?”

  Gritting his teeth, he glared at a set of doors. Behind them stood a threat to Vitrion. He could fix that, end the problem once and for all.

  “No.” She tugged his hand. “Graiton’s not worth dying for.”

  Rhykar rounded on her, his heart squeezing at the fear he saw in her eyes. “I want to be with you. I can’t as long as I’m on the Most Wanted list.” He swiped his hand over the door release. To his surprise, the ornate entrance opened.

  “Rhykar—”

  He released her hand and strode into the monster’s lair. Behind an immense desk, the bastard sat, his fingers dancing in the air as he tried to download all of his schemes and lies onto a gel-cube.

  He aimed his pistol at the self-proclaimed savior. “Graiton.”

  The man glanced toward him and sneered. “Rhykar Evierse. I thought you would be dead by now.”

  Rhykar squeezed the trigger, but somehow anticipating the act, Graiton dove to the floor at the same moment. The chair he’d been sitting in caught the sonic pulse and slammed into the wall. Rounding the end of the desk, he swept the business end of his weapon to where the bastard should have been cowering.

  Nothing.

  Where had the bastard gotten off to? He leaned over to peer under the desk, but Graiton’s hand shot out from beneath the edge, grabbed his ankle, and yanked. Losing his balance, Rhykar tumbled to the floor. The gun jolted loose from his hand and skittered across the carpet. Frick!

  Graiton scrambled to his feet and kicked him in the ribs. Pain tore through him, and he rolled away. The bastard made a dash for the office’s rear exit, and Rhykar lunged after him, but missed and sprawled to the floor. He looked up and caught Graiton’s gleeful stare. Confusion filled Rhykar, and he rolled to his back to see what had caused the man to halt his flight.

  Selea stood, holding the pistol in her hand.

  “Well, Evierse,” Graiton crowed. “I guess you’re dead after all.”

  Rhykar stared at her but her placid expression was unreadable. Had the goggles failed to emit an electromagnetic pulse and free her from nanite control?

  “Kill him,” Graiton commanded.

  She raised the gun, aiming the business end at him as she’d been told. He tensed, preparing for the inevitable. But his heart held out hope that she wouldn’t pull the trigger. Not after he’d confessed his love for her.

  He held his hand out to her. “Selea….”

  “Kill him!” Graiton roared.

  Selea winked, shifted her aim, and fired the pulsegun.

  Whump.

  He twisted around, catching sight of Vitrion’s savior as he slumped to the floor. Shoving to his feet, Rhykar crossed to her in three long strides, gathered her in his arms, and kissed her soundly on the mouth. She returned his affection with fervor, but a moment later, she shoved him back.

  “What were you thinking?”

  He smiled, thrilled to see the fire in her eyes again. “Mostly about you.”

  She narrowed her gaze. “Well, if you ever do something stupid like that again, I’ll frickin’ shoot you myself.”

  He laughed. “Can’t make any promises. I protect those I care about.”

  She shook her head. “Leave it to me to fall for the one guy who thinks he has to save the world.”

  “The world needed saving.” He moved toward her again. “And what was that first part?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You’ve fallen for me?” Reaching out, he trailed his fingers down her arm, and she slapped him away.

  “Wait.” She stepped to the side. “Graiton’s gone!”

  Rhykar pivoted toward the place he’d seen the bastard fall. How the man had managed to escape after being hit with that sonic blast, he had no clue. The frickin’ thing should’ve rendered him unconscious—the one he’d been shot with had knocked him on his ass.

  Selea bolted toward the entrance, but he grabbed her arm, stopping her.

  “Doesn’t matter. Go secure the doors.”

  After closing the rear exit, she strode across the room and set the entry at maximum, locking them in.

  Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved the slim cylinder and pressed the button, extending the six-inch, gold wand. A low hum emanated from the device, and he nodded.

  Selea frowned. “What’s that?”

  “Tech courtesy of your Mr. Jones.” He walked around the room, brandishing the device. When he’d finished, a high-pitched, triple beep issued from the mechanism, and he moved behind Graiton’s desk. Plugging the end of the wand into the hub, he hacked into the system and sent everything to the public domain. “Now, every word that was said in this room will be heard by every Vitrion citizen.”

  She scrutinized the cylinder. “How is that possible?”

  “It gathers all the sound waves from the last day, all the words and sounds. Everyone will know the truth about Vast Innovations and Mertan Graiton.” He tapped a button on the desk, and a small panel slid open. Reaching into the hole, he plucked out a small, luminous blue gel-cube. He held it up.

  Selea approached the opposite side of the desk. “All of VI’s technology and research. Graiton’s files.”

  “This wil
l clear my name once and for all.” He shifted his gaze from the cube to her face. “And allow us to be together.”

  Banging sounded on the locked doors behind them. The guards had arrived.

  “Took them long enough,” he said.

  She snorted. “Yes.”

  He rounded the desk and strode for the door, intent on setting the security detail straight, but she stopped him.

  “I don’t trust them.” She grimaced. “With Graiton missing, they probably won’t wait for answers.”

  “What do you suggest?”

  She picked up the pistol and held out her other hand. “Give me the cube.”

  He gave it to her. “Now what?”

  She tucked the gel-cube in her pocket and pulled out a set of engetic bonds.

  He lifted an eyebrow. “How many of those do you have?”

  “Shut up and put your hands behind your back.”

  He complied, and she set the device into place. The bands slipped around his wrists.

  “I’ll identify myself as a bounty hunter,” she said. “I’ll tell them I got Graiton safely out the rear exit, for them to check on him while I take you, my prisoner, to jail. Once we’re at confinement, we’ll straighten all this out. I’ve got people down there I trust. When they see what’s on this gel-cube, you’ll be in the clear.” She urged him toward the door.

  He peered over his shoulder at her. “You never did answer my question.”

  She moved to the door release panel. “What was that?”

  He stared at her. Gods, she was gorgeous. And brilliant. And fierce. His heart longed to hear that she belonged to him. “Earlier, you mentioned something that sounded an awful lot like you’d fallen for me.”

  Her mouth quirked into a smile, and she lifted up onto her toes, brushing her soft lips over his. “I love you, you idiot. But don’t think that’ll stop me from shooting you if you don’t do what I tell you.”

  He grinned. Well, at least he knew it wasn’t the nanites talking. Those words were pure Selea.

  ~ABOUT THE AUTHOR~

  Though born and raised in the south, L.J. Garland has lived on both the east and west coasts. She adores traveling, the latest adventures added to her Bucket List: Machu Pichu and Australia’s Rainforest and Great Barrier Reef.

  Married to her best friend for over twenty years, she spends her time home schooling three rambunctious boys, editing in the epub industry, and writing stories that she hopes catches her readers’ imaginations as much as the characters and plotlines captivate her. In her spare time (what there is of it LOL), she has a multitude of hobbies, including building archery equipment from scratch and creating stained glass. She has a passion for anything that goes Boom! …from fireworks to high-powered assault rifles…it’s all good. She and her husband are both rated helicopter pilots and spent their 10th anniversary flying cross-country from east to west coast…an adventure she highly recommends.

  A member of RWA, she has several published books, and is hard at work, brainstorming and writing her next romance story. She loves hearing from readers who’ve enjoyed her stories. Email at mail@lj-garland.com

  Night Mission

  A 1Night Stand Story

  By

  HOLT Medallion award-winning author

  Desiree Holt

  Also by Desiree Holt

  Joy Ride

  Aftershock

  He Came Upon a Midnight Clear

  Flyover

  Lust Becomes You

  Overnight Sensation

  Soul Dreams

  Dark Secrets

  ~DEDICATION~

  To Laura Kubitz.

  If not for her, this opportunity would never have happened.

  Chapter One

  I have found the perfect match for you.

  Gabriel Walker lounged back on the couch, feet propped on the coffee table, and stared at the screen on his laptop. And it stared right back at him. Yup, still there.

  Her name is Maggie Fitzgerald, he read on. All of her specifics are listed in the attached document. I’ve included two photos of her as well, as you requested. All the arrangements are ready, waiting only for your confirmation. If all is acceptable, please reply to this message and I will make the appropriate arrangements at the Castillo San Antonio. Madame Evangeline.

  Gabe ran a hand over his stubbled jaw. Who’d believe that an alpha SEAL Team leader needed to apply to an online dating service? SEALs were supposed to have their pick of women.

  Yeah, sure. But my problem is, no matter which woman I pick, my interest fades before I even get my pants off.

  He looked at the header on the email. 1Night Stand. Well, he’d sure had plenty of those in his lifetime. So why had he felt it necessary to arrange one so formally?

  He’d stumbled on the site late one night while bored and surfing the Internet, and it had piqued his interest. Oh, what the hell. On extended leave after four back-to-back missions in the Middle East and bored out of his skull with inactivity, playing games the women he knew found so fascinating no longer appealed to him. SEALs weren’t trained to be idle, so a little harmless exploration of the 1NS web site didn’t seem too out of line. He’d even had a good laugh while he filled out the application form, specifying what he wanted in his desired companion.

  At least forty. Someone with a brain who was also at the peak of her sexual desire.

  Likes inventive sex. A definite must.

  Prefers bourbon to wine.

  As he added a few more things, he told himself there was no way in a million years Madame Evangeline could find the woman he wanted.

  He clicked on the attached document and up came the woman of his dreams. Right on his computer.

  Maggie Fitzgerald.

  Five feet four inches, one hundred thirty pounds.

  Age: forty-two. Exactly ten years older than him. Perfect. For the last couple of years, the star of every one of his erotic fantasies had been a hot cougar. Older was definitely better.

  Prefers Jack Daniel’s Black Label.

  Seeking a man who likes creative sex and has great stamina.

  Creative? Shit, I can do creative with my eyes closed. Not to mention staying power is never in question.

  Prefers a Texan.

  His eyes popped at that one. Texas born and bred, he came from a long line of natives of the Lone Star State. Had it been possible to find a woman with everything he’d asked for and one who hailed from Texas?

  He read on. An architect, head of her own firm. Never married.

  Good. Probably isn’t looking for it.

  Next, he pulled up the headshot and his cock hardened to the point of pain, tenting the soft fabric of his sweat pants.

  Jesus! Talk about hot.

  Dark red hair tumbled in short curls and framed a face with high cheekbones, emerald green eyes, and thick lashes. Tiny lines at the corners of her eyes and a defined laugh line were the only indications this woman had passed her thirtieth birthday.

  Wait. Is that a hint of a dimple in one cheek? Damn! Dimples just did it for him.

  Finally, he opened the full-length photo and his hand automatically grabbed his shaft to ease the sudden, intense throbbing.

  Holy shit! This is no skinny broad at all!

  He stared at the picture of a mature woman with a ripe body and lush curves. His mouth went dry and his palms itched to cup her full breasts. Smooth down over those very tempting curves. And he bet her ass would make his mouth water. He could already visualize her naked, writhing beneath him in pleasure, his cock buried deep inside her. His tongue in her hot mouth.

  Jesus!

  His balls ached as if gripped in a vise and he’d bet if he looked, he’d see moisture on the head of his dick. Finally, finally a real woman he could let himself go with. Yeah, he could definitely get with the creative sex part.

  Well, soldier, this is one damn fine one-night stand Madame Eve picked out for you. So what are you waiting for? Tell her it’s a go.

  Licking his lips, he moved
the cursor and clicked on Reply.

  ***

  Maggie hadn’t expected an email back from 1Night Stand so quickly and it stunned her to open her computer and find it waiting for her

  I have the perfect match for you and am delighted to produce results so quickly. I’m confident Gabriel Walker is exactly what you’re looking for. Like you, he seeks only one night of pleasure and his tastes mesh perfectly with yours. Here are his photos and his profile. If he is acceptable to you, simply reply to this email, confirming the date, and arrangements will be made. It’s a pleasure to serve you. Madame Evangeline.

  Maggie had heard of 1Night Stand from two of her girlfriends, women fresh from the divorce mill who wanted one night with a man who could help them rebuild their shattered egos. Her ego was fine. She wanted something different. The men she dated were the problem. They were all older than her and had long since lost interest in experimentation in bed. Their major focus turned out to be the eleven o’clock news and the stock market report. But now, in the prime of her sexuality, Maggie wanted one night with a man who had a sex drive strong enough to match her own desires.

  He couldn’t be some young stud, either. She wanted an educated man with a sharp mind who could engage in smart pillow talk.

  She pulled up the info sheet on Gabriel Walker first and scanned the details on it. She could scarcely believe her luck as she read the specifics.

  Six feet four inches, two hundred twenty pounds.

  Age: thirty-two. Excellent. The strength of his sex drive should match hers.

  Native Texan. Ohmigod! Be still, my heart!

  College graduate.

  Ten years in the SEALs, six as a team leader. An additional note said he used the logistics he’d studied for his business degree to plan his team’s missions with precision, a skill that had earned him two promotions in rank.

  Prefers bourbon, although enjoys an occasional beer.

  Thrives on imaginative sex. Has incredible staying power.

  All sounding good.

  Well, Mags, let’s see what he looks like.

  She clicked on the head shot first and nearly fainted. Strong face with a square jaw and stormy grey eyes. Full, sensual lips. She wondered for a moment about the thick, jet black hair, longer than the usual military buzz cut, until she recalled SEALs weren’t required to follow the military dress code since they often needed to blend into their surroundings on missions in foreign countries.