by Abby Brooks
And then, out of the blue, I find myself staring across the bar at the most beautiful woman I’ve seen in a long time. Long cappuccino-colored hair I can’t wait to run my hands through. Soulful brown eyes. Bright red lipstick I’d love to see staining my cock. There’s something so real about her. The blondes beside me are hot, but I bet it takes them hours to get there. This brunette? She just is what she is.
And she’s captivating.
“Hudson,” whines blonde number one. I think her name is Tara. Or Tina. “You weren’t even listening to me, were you?”
I tear my eyes away from the woman at the bar. “Nope,” I say and shoot Tara/Tina my best grin. There isn’t a woman on earth who can resist my dimples. Sure enough, I watch her frustration melt away and she puts a hand on my arm.
“I said…”
I zone out again as she blathers on because I really could care less about what she has to say. They all pretend to care about me, but I know the truth. They don’t see who I am any more than I see who they are. What they see is a professional football player with a million-dollar paycheck and a body that makes them squirm. And what I see is a hot piece of ass to stick my dick in for the night.
Except when I look at the brunette.
She’s so different from the kind of woman I would normally go after, but I’m seriously considering ditching Tara/Tina and the other two and going off to find her. She might not have anything better to say than these other women, but at least she’s managed to capture my attention. And that’s saying something.
Blonde number two runs her hand up my inner thigh, coming dangerously close to my dick. “What are you thinking about, baby?” she purrs.
I sit back and study her from head to toe, smiling as I do it. I may be a player, but I’m no jerk. I like the women I’m with to feel special while we’re together. “Things that would make you blush.”
“I doubt that,” she says while the other two giggle. “I don’t blush all that easily.”
I have a feeling that’s more true than I’d like to believe. Something tells me this chick has had her fair share of mornings where she woke up alone and confused in a stranger’s bed. I study the crowd over her shoulder, looking for that brunette without even realizing it.
Fuck, those red lips. The things I’d do to a mouth like that. And that body. So full and curvy, her waist tucking in over the swell of her hips and a pair of tits that are begging for my touch. I have officially lost all interest in Tara/Tina and her desperate little friends. These women are easy prey. A guaranteed lay.
I mean, shit, I bet I could talk one of them into climbing onto my dick right here at the bar. Anything for a little slice of my fame, right? Tonight, I’m in the mood for someone a little harder to get. Someone more worthy of what I have to offer. Someone who’s going to make me work for what they have to offer. If I liked things just handed to me on a silver platter, I don’t think I’d be where I am today. I’ve had to work my ass off to get to where I am.
I pushed hard through high school to maintain my grades and be the best I could possibly be on the field and earn myself a college scholarship since my parents sure as hell couldn’t afford it. And then pushed again through college so I could earn myself a first round draft pick. And now, I’ll keep on pushing until I get a contract with a team that’s a Super Bowl contender.
All I ask of myself is that I’m better today than I was yesterday. That might sound easy, but some days it means that I’ve had to push really fucking hard.
And it’s that kind of attitude that got me that first round draft pick. Sure, it was to the Bengals. Not necessarily my dream team, but that only means I have room to grow. And sure, my first season wasn’t exactly stellar since I ruptured my Achilles tendon in the pre-season and had to work my ass off to get it rehabbed in time to even get on the field at all.
I pushed too hard. Landed myself back in physical therapy because I went back too soon, but fuckin’-A, it was worth it.
I stand, surprising the blondes. “Well ladies,” I say, flashing them a smile and making sure they get a good look at the dimples. “It’s been nice, but I’m gonna head out.”
They pout in unison and close in on me like a bunch of hyenas.
“But we were having such a good time.”
“The night’s still young.”
“We could always go find some place more private.”
They all speak at the same time, and I don’t know—or care—who said what. I kiss them each on the cheek and squeeze at least one of their asses and then I take off through the crowd. I can feel their eyes on me. Can feel the confusion and disappointment. I’m sure they thought they were in for one hell of a good time tonight. What can I say? They had it in the bag until that brunette showed up. Now she’s all I want.
I head towards the dance floor because I’ll have the best chance of finding my mystery woman there. Of course, the whispers of that’s Hudson Knox follow me. People smile my way, hoping I’ll stop and talk. I flash them a grin and keep moving. Last year I would have stopped and enjoyed their attention because there’s no feeling in the world like being recognized. But you only need to run into a handful of crazy people to figure out it’s better to just keep right on walking.
The brunette’s nowhere to be found. She’s not on the dance floor. She’s not at the bar. She’s not at any of the tables. Shit. Maybe I should have stayed with the blondes because, easy or not, at least I’d be going home with someone. Well, several someones.
Did I really just step away from a threesome in the hopes that I’d get to fuck this mystery brunette? This mystery brunette I can’t even find? I turn back towards Tara/Tina and the blondes, my dick jumping to life at the thought of having all three of them naked in my bed.
And then I see her. The brunette with the red lipstick. All thoughts of anyone else go flying from my mind. She’s sitting with two other women and I can’t even take my eyes off her long enough to see who they are. My cock reminds me that I could still have my threesome tonight, but I’m not listening. Threesome or not, I want her.
Chapter Three
“You know what I want?” I ask, finally circling back to answer Chelsea’s question from earlier.
Dakota turns her head to one side, considering. “A hot man in a loin cloth that feeds you grapes while you lay by the pool?”
I raise my eyebrows and purse my lips. “Will he also be fanning me with palm fronds?”
“Of course not. His hands will be full of grapes, silly. That’s what the other guys will be for.” Dakota leans into Chelsea who shakes her head and sips her water.
“Yes,” I say. “I very much want that. Without a doubt. But that’s not what I was thinking about right now.”
Chelsea perks up. “That’s what I’m thinking about right now, thank you very much. Damn preggo hormones keep me pretty much constantly turned on.”
I ball up one of the little cocktail napkins and roll it between my hands. “I don’t know if you need to be pregnant to find hot men in loin cloths appealing.”
Dakota sips her whiskey and studies my face like she’ll find the secret of what I’m thinking hiding somewhere in my eyes. “Um … okay. I’ve got it. You’re thinking about a hot prince who will whisk you away to his castle and make you do really, really dirty things to him.”
I think for a second. “Like Christian Grey in Fifty Shades or Khal Drogo in Game of Thrones?”
Chelsea laughs and watches while Dakota purses her lips and squints her eyes.
“Imagine a combination of the two.”
“Dang,” says Chelsea and fans herself. “Now I’ve got that up there sharing headspace with pool boys in loin cloths. You guys are killing me!”
I look at my sisters incredulously. “Geez guys. And here I thought you were happily married.”
“Oh, I am,” says Dakota. “And I’ve got my own special Christian Grey/Khal Drogo combo waiting for me tonight.” Her eyes get all dreamy and I try not to gag. Dakota’s husband is
great; I just don’t believe that kind of love is in the cards for me.
Chelsea nods. “Me too. But…” She flares her hands over her swollen belly. “You know, the whole pregnancy thing kind of gets in the way.”
Dakota looks shocked. “You can totally have sex when you’re pregnant!”
“Oh, I know. I just constantly feel disgusting even though Max swears I’m more beautiful than ever.” She grimaces. “It’s such a curse. I’m turned on all day long and too self-conscious about being naked to do anything about it.”
I take a drink of my margarita. “It’s been so long since I’ve had someone touch me that I forget what it feels like to be turned on. Or self-conscious about being naked.”
My sisters grimace in unison, this horrific look of pity and compassion all rolled into one.
“You know what?” I say and take another drink. “I’ve decided something.” I’m as surprised by my statement as they are because I didn’t even know I’d decided on anything until I said something about it.
“Okay.” Dakota sets her drink down and leans in. “This sounds serious. Hit us with it.”
I also set my drink down and lean in, going for as much dramatic effect as I possibly can. “I’m going to have a one-night stand.” I brace myself for the inevitable objections.
Nothing.
Not one exclamation.
Not one gasp in surprise.
Neither of my sisters even bother to tell me it’s a bad idea.
“Wow, guys.” I sit back and cross my arms over my chest. “Thanks so much for worrying about my well-being.”
Chelsea glances at Dakota who shrugs her tiny little shoulders. “We are worried about your well-being.”
“So then why aren’t you making a bigger deal out of this? Trying to talk me out of it?”
Dakota swipes her glass off the table and leans back in her chair. “Maybe you need to let go a little. Stop living by everyone else’s rules and go a little crazy.”
I wait for Chelsea to contradict Dakota but she just shakes her head. “It’d be good for you.”
“A one-night stand would be good for me?”
I’m shocked. I don’t even know if I want to have a one-night stand. I just wanted to get a rise out of them. Get the thought out of my head so I could stop feeling so darn sorry for myself. I didn’t for one moment think that they were going to think this was a good idea.
“Sure,” says Dakota. “If you do it right.”
“And pray tell, just how do you do it right?” I wanted to sound skeptical and condescending, but I’m kind of curious so that totally ruined the effect I was going for. “I was under the impression that the only right answer to a one-night stand was to feel ashamed in the morning and promise never to do it again.”
Dakota shakes her head. “You’re on the pill, right?”
I nod. “Of course.”
Dakota studies her fingernails. “Well, you pick a guy that you’re sure you’ll never see again. One who totally turns you on but you’re sure you’re not going to want for more than one night, then you make a big deal about going down on him with the lights on so you can see if he’s got anything gross going on down there…” She scrunches up her face and waggles her fingers while Chelsea laughs. “And then you make sure he wears a condom in case he’s got something you can’t see.”
“You sound way too comfortable with this technique,” Chelsea says through her laughter.
“I may have had some intense conversations with some of the other female bartenders when I worked at the Bad Apple.”
“Sure,” says Chelsea. “And you never tried out this technique for yourself. Not once. Not ever.” The sarcasm is strong in my sister.
Dakota lifts her eyebrows and shrugs. “Well, I couldn’t recommend it for my darling sister if I wasn’t sure it worked…”
“Dakota!” Chelsea looks shocked and Dakota slaps her on the arm. “Why did you hit me?”
“For getting all judgmental older sister on me.”
“I did no such thing.”
Dakota turns to me. “She totally got judgmental on me. You saw it.”
I just stare at them, shaking my head. “Guys,” I say. “I think we’re missing the point here. You know, the point where you two were busy telling me it’s okay that I want to pick some totally random hot guy and talk him into having meaningless sex with me.”
My sisters’ jaws drop in unison and for just a second I think it’s because they’re finally feeling shocked by me wanting a one-night stand. But then I realize they’re not actually staring at me. They’re looking over my shoulder, at something just behind me.
Chelsea is the first to recover. “Hey, Hudson. Crazy seeing you here.”
I spin in my seat and wouldn’t you fucking know it. Standing right behind me is the Greek god with the long hair, tattoos, and the dimples that would make any woman melt. My jaw drops as he glances at me, this look of utter hilarity dancing in his eyes.
Kill me. Kill me, now.
“Hey Chelsea,” says the vision of sexiness behind me. “I didn’t think I’d see you here after what happened last year.”
“It’s not Aura’s fault that your friend is a sleaze-bag,” she says as she gets up to give the man a hug.
How is it that my sister even knows this guy?
“That’s true.” He pulls Chelsea into a delicate hug, careful of her belly. “You sure this is the best place for you, given your condition?”
“I’m pregnant, Knox. Not dying.”
He flares his hands and shakes his head. “Can’t help it if I’m protective of the people that matter to me.”
Chelsea sits back down and offers Hudson the seat next to me. “I didn’t know I mattered that much to you.”
He pulls the chair back and sits. He’s close enough that I can smell just a hint of his cologne. The blush that settled into my cheeks when I discovered him behind me deepens, rushing down my throat and onto my chest.
“My career is in your hands, London. Of course you matter to me.” Hudson flashes a grin at me and I look away. I can’t handle someone this hot being this close to me, especially not after he snuck up on me talking about meaningless sex with a stranger. And by stranger, I mean him. Because let’s be real here. I haven’t gotten him out of my mind since I saw him.
“Oh, I see,” says Chelsea to Hudson. “Of course you don’t care about me for me. It’s all about what I can do for you.”
They laugh like old friends while I gape at my sister. Part of me is furious that she hasn’t introduced us and another part of me is grateful that I’m getting a chance to get myself under control before she brings his focus back to me.
Dakota catches my eye and arches an eyebrow, biting her lip. That’s sister code for hey! I just found a hot guy for you to have meaningless sex with!
I widen my eyes and shake my head, sister code for don’t you dare say anything to embarrass me in front of this hot guy I want to have meaningless sex with!
“So, are you going to introduce me to these gorgeous ladies or are we just going to keep on ignoring them and being rude as all hell?” Hudson looks from me to Dakota and I don’t know if I like it better with his attention on me or my sister.
Chelsea shakes her head. “These are my sisters, Dakota and Maya.” She points to each of us in turn. “Girls, this is Hudson Knox, most irritating patient I have ever had to suffer through.” Chelsea is a physical therapist and works with a lot of the professional athletes in the area. That would explain this guy’s size. He’s probably a football player.
Dakota extends a hand. “Pleased to meet you,” she says almost formally, very out of character for my disco ball of a sister.
Hudson turns to me as soon as he lets go of Dakota’s hand, throwing an arm up on the back of his chair. “Maya, huh? Now that’s a beautiful name.”
Out of the corner of my eyes, I see Dakota signaling frantically to Chelsea and Chelsea shaking her head just as frantically. For all my talk and bravado
earlier, I’m frozen now that this beautiful man is in front of me. It’s all well and good to fantasize about having a one-night stand with someone, but the actual part where I go through with it is a different story altogether. Especially considering I’m sitting at a table with my sisters as an audience.
“Thank you,” I mumble and give my focus to my glass. I’ll just let my sisters and their bigger personalities take over while I fade into the background like I usually do.
Except Hudson doesn’t seem the least bit interested in that. “Are you the pediatric surgeon sister or the travel blog sister?” he asks, leaning in close so I get another whiff of his cologne. He smiles when I look at him and damn that dimple! And damn, I wish I hadn’t had quite so many margaritas so I could think clearly.
“Pediatric surgeon,” I reply, barely lifting my gaze to his, trying desperately to think of something else interesting to say. But that face, with his sparkling eyes and his perfectly white smile and just the general knowledge that he is the sexiest male creature I have ever seen obliterates each and every thought in my head.
Dakota looks at me with her eyes wide, not at all the subtle signal she hopes it is. “So, let me guess,” she says to Hudson. “You play for the Bengals.”
He flares his fingers and leans forward. “Guilty as charged. How could you tell?” He gives her a grin that says he knows just exactly how she could tell but wants to hear it anyway.
“You’re too big to be a baseball player, so the Reds are out, and I don’t think the Cincinnati Ballet would be cool with the tats.”
“Damn, and here I thought you’d recognized me.” He grins at her again and then turns right back to me.
“So, a surgeon. Wow. Who would have thought such a beautiful young woman could have such a serious job?”
I so don’t want to talk about my job right now, but I totally do want to talk to Hudson. What’s the appropriate response? Gee, thanks?
Instead, I don’t say anything. I just blush and look at my hands while I wish I could be the kind of girl who knows what to say in these situations.
Hudson chuckles and it’s this deep throaty sound that sends chills out across my body. “Oh, so the mystery woman wants to remain a mystery.” He leans in, widening his eyes. “How very appropriate.”