Living with Her One-Night Stand (The Loft, #1)

by Noelle Adams

  She had little pink underwear on, and Lucas’s whole body gave a swell of desire at the sight of her rounded hips, shapely thighs, and bare skin. Slowly she unbuttoned her top, and he was almost leaning forward, trying to catch a glimpse of the fair skin revealed as she pulled the fabric apart. Her pink bra matched her panties. Her breasts were full and firm, and his erection was so tight in his jeans he was momentarily afraid he was going to lose control.

  As she dropped her top to the floor, she made an exaggerated stripper pose and sang, “Boom chicka mow mow.”

  He burst into surprised laughter and almost stepped toward her to scoop her up and lift her onto the bed when he remembered she got to call the shots.

  “Now you can get rid of some of your clothes,” she said.

  He had his shirt, jeans, shoes, and socks off in about two seconds, and he didn’t even care that she was laughing helplessly at his speed. “Were you expecting more of a stripper routine?” he asked, his voice hoarse because it was taking a genuine struggle to keep himself from touching her.

  She shook her head. “I’m not really into strippers.” Her eyes were running up and down his body, and as far as he could tell, she liked what she saw. He wore nothing but a pair of gray boxer briefs, and her gaze lingered on his groin, where his erection was clearly evident. “Okay,” she said after a moment.

  “Okay what?”

  “Okay. You can… get over here and do your thing.”

  “What thing?” He was asking for clarity, even as he took four strides over to where she stood.

  “Whatever you do. It’s going to get tedious if I have to narrate everything. Just, you know, kiss me again and then do some stuff you want. I’ll tell you if I don’t like it.”

  “You will?” he asked, clenching his hands to hold himself back for a few seconds longer.

  “I will.” Her expression changed briefly. “You have a condom, don’t you?”

  “Yeah.” To save himself the trouble later, he went over to his suitcase and pulled a strip of condom packets out of a zipper pocket. He put them on one of the nightstands and then moved back to stand in front of her.

  Her expression was excited now, heated in a way that went right to his groin. “Okay. Do your thing,” she whispered.

  Slowly he reached out and brushed a hand down her hair, gently pushing it behind her shoulder. Then he cupped the back of her head with that hand and leaned down into a kiss.

  He had vague thoughts about going slow, but it didn’t happen that way. As soon as his lips touched hers, his body burst into demanding urgency after having waited so long for this.

  His tongue slid into her mouth, and he made a throaty sound as she softened against him, surrendering herself to the kiss. It wasn’t long before both his hands were sliding down to her butt and he was lifting her up so their bodies were better aligned.

  “Is it too soon to get on the bed?” he murmured, his groin throbbing as he pressed it into her.

  “No. Bed is good. Now is good.” Her arms were wrapped around his neck, and she was grinding herself against him with a shamelessness that was utterly thrilling to him.

  He couldn’t believe she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

  He turned them around and laid her down on the bed, moving over her quickly because he couldn’t stand the distance between them. She pulled him into position above her, dragging his head down into another kiss.

  The kiss went on for a long time—deep and sensual and aching in its intensity. Eventually, he could barely even think in full sentences. Just her. And bodies. And lips and tongue and hands and skin. And heat. And need. And desperate need.

  And her.

  She was making little moans into his mouth. Soft, breathless, and uninhibited. He would swear that they were sincere. She was really enjoying this.

  Eventually he started to kiss his way down her neck, but then he remembered their deal. He reared up his head, panting like he’d been running a marathon. “Okay if I take off your bra?”

  She nodded mutely, flushed and tousled and beautiful.

  He unhooked her bra and pulled it away from her skin, staring like a teenager at her naked breasts until he finally leaned down to tease one with his mouth.

  Making himself move slower than he really wanted, he took the time to pay her breasts real attention—caressing and suckling until she was arching up from the mattress and clawing at his shoulders and back.

  “Oh God, if you don’t make me come soon I’m going to lose it,” she gasped after a few minutes.

  He lifted his head to look down at her, his vision blurring slightly from the depth of his arousal. He couldn’t ever remember feeling this way before—lingering on the cusp between desire and completion for so long. It was strangely intoxicating. And torturous at the same time. “How do you want me to—”

  “I don’t care. Just do it. Make me come. Please, please, please.” She was writhing beneath him, digging her fingernails into his shoulder, the sharp pain only adding momentum to his need.

  He wasn’t sure he could think clearly enough to focus on oral sex at the moment, so he slid a hand under her panties instead, feeling her with his fingers until he was able to open her to his touch. She was very warm, very wet. She whimpered as he stroked her, and her face twisted dramatically as he thumbed her clit.

  “Oh, please,” she gasped.

  He slid one finger and then another inside her, and he experimented until he’d found a rhythm she seemed to like.

  He worked her over with his hand, occasionally leaning down to tease her breasts a little with his mouth but mostly unable to look away from the pleasure on her face.

  It didn’t take long for her body to tighten, for her hips to start pumping against his hand, for her little moans and whimpers to turn into something louder and more urgent.

  When she came, it was intense. Her body clamped down hard around his fingers—so hard he had trouble moving them—and her neck arched up as her mouth fell open in a silent cry of release.

  The contractions went on for a long time, and he kept stroking her as she came down. When her body finally started to relax, she was mumbling, “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you.”

  His mind was a blur of unexpected emotions—on top of the aching tension of his body—and he had no idea what to say. To distract himself, he leaned down to kiss her again, and she seemed to appreciate that. She kissed him back eagerly and ended up pushing him over onto his back.

  He blinked up at her, almost groggy from arousal, to see that she was reaching over for the condom.

  He tried to think of something clever or sexy to say, but he was mostly repeating desperate mumbles of gratitude in his mind that he was finally going to feel her body all around him, find an answer for his desperate need.

  He watched as she ripped open the condom and then thought of something he could do. He managed to get his underwear off in time for her to take his erection in her little hands.

  He made a soft, shameless groan as she stroked him, and he was seriously afraid he was going to lose it if that went on too long. Before he could suggest moving on, she was rolling the condom on. Relieved, he checked its placement and position as she lifted herself up onto her knees and slowly slid down her panties.

  He could feel his pounding heart in his ears, behind his eyes, in his groin. Unable to stop himself, he reached over for her, pulling her over on top of him so she was straddling his hips.

  Together, they aligned her over his erection, and he was able to slowly edge himself in. She was tight and wet and hot, even through the condom, and he groaned helplessly at the feel of her.

  She was breathing fast and hard as she leaned over to kiss him again. He couldn’t really concentrate on the kiss, but he did his best, rocking his hips up into her since it was physically impossible for him to hold himself still.

  “Oh God,” she breathed against his lips. “Oh God, this feels so good.” She sounded almost surprised.

  “Yeah. Oh fuck, yeah.
” That was the most sophisticated vocabulary he was capable of at the moment. His hands were gripping her soft hips, and he had to fight not to take control of their coupling.

  She lifted her upper body, repositioning herself over him. She braced herself on his shoulders and started to ride him more intentionally.

  He groaned in relief as the friction answered some of his need. He stared up at her jiggling breasts and swaying hair and briefly wondered what he’d ever done to deserve living through this moment, feeling this good.

  Her cheeks were very red now, and her face was twisting in the way it had earlier, when he’d made her come. “God, I think I… I think I can come again.” Her motion over him had gotten faster, harder, sending ripples of pleasure out from his groin.

  “Yeah. Yeah. You can come. Come again.” He was holding on to her bottom, keeping her in position so he wouldn’t slide out of her with her urgent bouncing.

  She made a little sobbing sound and slid a hand down to rub at her clit. Then she was shaking over him, clamping down around him so tightly he gave a choked cry.

  “Oh God, that feels so good,” she gasped, riding out her climax as she moved over him. “Oh God, I can’t believe I came.”

  His head was roaring now as intensely as his body, and he was thrusting up into her from below in hard, urgent pumps as he finally let himself go. It took a minute for him to let loose the last thread holding himself in check, but the buildup just made the release better, hotter, fuller.

  He let out a shameless roar as he fell into climax at last. He jerked beneath her, conscious that she was still moving over him, moving with him, stroking his chest with her hands.

  He was limp and exhausted when the pleasure finally worked its way through him, and he was strangely pleased when she fell down on top of him, evidently just as sated as he was.

  He couldn’t enjoy her soft, hot, relaxed body for long. He could feel himself start to soften, and he groaned as he edged her off him enough to take care of the condom.

  She rolled over onto her side as he took care of the condom in the bathroom, and he grabbed his underwear from the bed and pulled them on when he came back into the room.

  She was watching him. He couldn’t read her expression.

  “You want a shirt or something?” he asked since she was crossing her arms in front of her chest.

  “Yeah. Thanks.”

  He found her a clean T-shirt and tossed it over to her. He sat on the side of the bed as she pulled it on.

  When he looked at her, she was smiling a little. Relieved, he grinned back. “You want some water?” he asked.

  “Definitely.”

  He grabbed two bottles of water and gave one to her. Then he stretched out on the bed beside her, his body feeling tired and hot and incredibly good. “So what did you think of your one-night stand?” he asked lightly.

  He really wanted to know. He wanted her to have enjoyed it as much as he did. But he didn’t want to sound too invested in her response.

  She twitched her eyebrows at him teasingly. “It was the stuff of daydreams,” she said.

  He couldn’t help but like the sound of that.

  “I can’t believe that was really me.”

  “Why not?” he asked, cocking his head as he looked at her. “You’re amazing.”

  “Thanks. You’re pretty good yourself. And right now I have absolutely no regrets. You’re definitely the man to have a one-night stand with.”

  For no good reason something bothered him about her words. Not that they weren’t sincere—since he was convinced they were. She seemed to really appreciate him.

  But it bothered him that she was so sure he could only be one-night-stand material.

  She was right. That was all he was. But at the moment the idea nagged at him, enough to get in the way of his physical enjoyment.

  “But I’m not sure I’ll do this again,” she went on.

  “Why not?”

  “Well, for one thing, I might not have such a good experience with someone else. And for another…” She hesitated.

  “What?”

  “I had an amazing time. And this isn’t at all a complaint. But most of the time, I’ll want more than this.”

  He nodded silently, understanding immediately what she meant.

  He didn’t blame her for saying it, for feeling it.

  His life had changed two years ago, and he wasn’t going back.

  But sometimes he wanted more too.

  Three

  TO HER SURPRISE, JILL actually fell asleep in her one-night stand’s hotel room.

  She only slept for a couple of hours, but it was more than she would have imagined doing—even after having such a satisfying (and tiring) round of sex with him.

  She might feel like she knew him now, but he was still a stranger to her. And falling asleep in a stranger’s bed just didn’t seem very smart. But it was almost three in the morning when she woke up, groggily trying to figure out where she was, who she was with, and what day it was.

  When she’d oriented herself, she became aware of the guy stretched out in bed beside her on his stomach, the sheet covering his lower body and one arm bent and tucked under the pillow.

  He really did have a great body. His back was smooth and lean and rippling with nicely developed muscles, and his arms and shoulders were very impressive.

  She wasn’t used to being with a guy who had a body like that. She’d liked how Ted looked, but he hadn’t been sculpted like this guy.

  Because his back was fully exposed to her, she saw a number of faint pink lines where she’d clawed at him last night in her excitement. Her cheeks warmed slightly at the sight, this sign of how much she’d enjoyed having sex with him.

  Then she noticed for the first time a long, jagged scar running from his shoulder blade all the way down to where the sheet was covering his butt. It was old enough to have faded to white, but there were still traces of pink around the edges—so it obviously wasn’t a scar from his childhood.

  She hadn’t seen it last night. He’d never had his back to her.

  The scar looked terrible. She wondered what could have done it.

  She wasn’t likely to ever know.

  After she left this room, she’d never see this guy again.

  She still didn’t know his name. And he didn’t know hers.

  She couldn’t believe she’d really had a one-night stand.

  For a few minutes, when the nerves had hit her, she’d been convinced she was going to walk out on him and not have sex at all.

  She was glad she hadn’t.

  She would never see this guy again, but she’d remember last night for a long time. Maybe for the rest of her life.

  She’d never felt like that in bed before—so sexy and adventurous and… strong.

  She liked the feeling.

  When she found a forever man, she wanted to feel like that in bed with him too. She was going to make sure she did.

  It took a few minutes to make herself move, but she finally managed to sit up. She needed to get home. If she stayed here too late, Michelle and Steve would know she’d been out all night. She was normally fairly open with them, but last night felt like a private indulgence, a really good secret.

  She didn’t want to have to rehash the whole thing with them—at least not right away.

  So she made herself sit up, wincing at the soreness between her legs. He hadn’t been rough, but they’d been enthusiastic, and her body was definitely feeling it.

  When she swung her legs over the side of the bed, she felt the man stirring beside her. Looking over, she saw as he opened his eyes.

  “Hey,” he mumbled.

  “Hey. I’m just leaving.”

  “You don’t have to leave yet.” He had really vivid green eyes. They were genuinely beautiful, with tiny laugh lines that softened the edges of his handsomeness. His lashes were thick and dark, and his eyebrows a thick slash above them.

  “I need to be getting back. I didn’t mea
n to fall asleep.”

  “Okay.” He blinked a couple of times and then groaned softly as he sat up. He swung his legs over the side of the bed the way she had. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

  “You don’t have to. I’m just partway down the block.”

  “It’s late.”

  “Blacksburg is pretty safe.”

  “You’re really arguing with me about this?” He slanted her a disapproving look.

  She chuckled and stood up so she could reach her skirt, which was still tossed on the floor where she’d left it. “Okay. Thanks.”

  She groaned at the thought of putting on her boots at this hour, but she made herself sit down and do it, zipping them up over the over-the-knee socks she’d never taken off. Then she pulled off the guy’s T-shirt and picked up her blouse, realizing as she did that she was missing her bra.

  It wasn’t on the floor anywhere, so she turned toward the bed. The guy had pulled on his jeans over his underwear, but then he reached over and dug her bra out from under the sheets.

  He handed it to her with a little quirk of his lips.

  She chuckled again and put it on, not failing to see the way his eyes lingered on her breasts as she did.

  “How did you get that scar on your back?” she asked as she buttoned up her little blouse. “I just saw it when you were sleeping.”

  His face went still for a moment. Then he said casually, “An old injury.”

  “What injury?”

  He arched his eyebrows and said dryly, “It’s what I get for being a good boy for too long.”

  That told her very little except that the scar might be associated with the “bam” he wouldn’t tell her about. She wanted to pursue the topic. She wanted to know.

  But she had no right to know.

  She was just another one in a series of one-night stands for him.

  He didn’t owe her anything but basic decency, and he’d more than lived up to his end of the bargain.

  So she bit back another question and gave him a little smile as she went over to pick up her bag from the floor where she’d left it. “All right. I think I’m mostly dressed.”