Series Starter : Firsts in Series Collection

by Kaylee Ryan

  “All right, so we’ve got Seth, Tyler, Mark, and Kent.” Ridge points to each guy as he says their name.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” I say politely, barely glancing at each of them, still embarrassed by their attention.

  “So, Missy, you live around here?” the one on my right asks—Kent . . . I think.

  “No, I’m just passing through. How about the five of you? Locals?” I take a sip of the fresh drink that was just set on the table in front of me.

  “No,” Ridge says, throwing his arm over the back of my chair. “We’re in town for a job.”

  I take note of the Beckett Construction T-shirts they all seem to be wearing. “Construction,” I say like an idiot. These men are sexy and intimidating.

  “Yep.” Ridge tips his beer back, and I get lost watching his throat as he swallows. Like I said, he’s sexy.

  “We grew up together,” one of the guys says.

  I can’t remember what Ridge said his name was. Mark, maybe?

  “So, just living it up after a long work week?” I wonder what it would be like to have friendships you formed in elementary school. I feel a pang of envy and sadness in my chest so I tip my glass and drain it, wanting to forget.

  The five of them chuckle. “Something like that,” the one with longer hair replies.

  And that’s how this night goes. The guys are funny, charming, and flirting. A few other women join us, but Ridge continues to stay close to me, ordering me drinks. I even buy a round or two, and relax into his touches. Simple ones like rubbing my shoulder, his hand on my arm and of course, whispering in my ear. I quit trying to hide the shiver it causes in me about three drinks ago.

  I’m attracted to him, and he knows it.

  One by one, the guys pair up, leaving just Ridge and me. “Where are you staying tonight?” His hand rests on my thigh.

  “I . . . I, uh, got a room across the street.”

  “Hmmm, that’s where we’ve been staying too.” Leaning in close, his breath mingles with mine as the bartender announces last call. “I’ll walk you home.”

  Ridge stands and offers me his hand, and I take it without hesitation. There’s something in his eyes, the way he’s been by my side all night. I trust him. I don’t know how to initiate it, but I want him with me, in my room, tonight. I’m not ready to let go of the way he makes me feel.

  Ridge keeps his arm around my waist as we head to the bar. I pay my tab, after much protest from him.

  The cool night air feels good against my heated skin. He pulls me into his chest and again, I go willingly.

  “Which room is yours?” he asks.

  “119,” I say, so softly I’m surprised he heard me. His touch has my body craving him. We reach my door and I slip the key from my back pocket. “Would you like to come in?” I’m looking at my feet, my back turned to him. I grip the door handle, bracing myself for his rejection.

  Stepping closer, he aligns his body with mine. One hand rests on my hip while the other moves my hair to one shoulder. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.” He kisses my neck.

  “Oh,” I say, dejected.

  “I won’t be able to keep my hands to myself,” he continues, pressing his erection into my ass.

  Oh, my. Excitement rushes through me. I’m doing this. I passed my comfort level hours ago, and it’s scary, but my gut tells me that Ridge is a good guy. That, for a one-night stand, I couldn’t have picked anyone better. Well, except maybe for his four friends. They all seem like great guys.

  “What if . . . What if I don’t want you to?”

  His lips trace my neck. “Open the door, Melissa.”

  Fumbling with the key, I do as he says. Suddenly, the buzz of the alcohol is gone and in its place is pure lust. I want this. I want one night with him. One night to feel wanted by this Adonis of a man.

  Once in the room, Ridge rips off his shirt and throws it in the chair. I take him in—his firm, ridged abs, the tattoos I want to trace with my tongue.

  “You keep looking at me like that and this is going to be over before it starts,” he warns me.

  I shift my gaze to the ground, embarrassed to have been caught ogling him.

  “Hey.” He steps close, lifting my chin with his index finger to face him. “You didn’t do anything wrong; I just meant that the look you were giving me alone has me ready to lose my mind.” He studies my expression once his words sink in. “Have you done this before, Melissa?”

  Shit. Not exactly one-night stand conversation. “Twice,” I blurt out.

  Ridge closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “You want this?”

  “More than I could ever explain.”

  His hands land on my waist and pull me close. “I’ll take care of you.” His lips softly cover mine.

  And then he does. He shows me passion like I’ve never known. He soon has my body singing his praises, and I loudly call out his name.

  Afterward, he doesn’t leave like I expect him to. Instead, he curls up beside me and drifts off to sleep. I lie there for hours until the reality of what I’ve just done hits me. I had a one-night stand with no regrets. I wanted it. I wanted him. However, I don’t relish doing the walk of shame. The awkward morning after I’ve read about so many times. I don’t want that. I don’t want to give him the chance to ruin this high I’m on. I won’t give him the chance to reject me.

  Quietly, I slide out of bed, gather my things, and slip quietly out the door. I didn’t even bring in clothes, just rented the room and went straight to the bar.

  Ridge gave me a night to remember, and a night to forget. I will forever be grateful to him.

  Chapter 1

  “Another round?” the waitress asks.

  “Keep them coming, sweetheart.” Kent winks.

  I watch as her face flushes red, and she saunters away. The guys and I are having a much-needed drink after the long workweek. We’ve been coming to Bottom’s Up for a few years now. It’s a small little place, with a jukebox full of classic tunes. The atmosphere is laid-back and the waitresses are always a nice distraction. Not that I’ve taken advantage of that; I’ve been going through a small dry spell the past several months.

  My eyes are glued to the makeshift dance floor when Seth speaks up. “You picking out your after-party?” He smirks at me.

  “Haven’t decided yet. You?”

  “Like you need to even ask,” Mark chimes in.

  “What I want to know is why haven’t you decided,” Tyler adds.

  I shrug. “Just not feeling it,” I say honestly.

  “Who are you and what have you done with Ridge?” Kent remarks.

  “You worry about your cock, and I’ll worry about mine.” I give him the look that says back off.

  “Little Ridge has to be feeling neglected. What’s it been—four, five months?” Seth asks.

  Fuck! That’s the downfall of being friends your entire lives; they hold nothing back, and they can read you like a book.

  “About that,” I say, grabbing the beer the cute little waitress just sat in front of me. I tip it back and drain half of it.

  “Not since what’s her name . . .” Tyler places his finger on his chin.

  “Shit. That’s right, the job we did out of town. Cute little thing. What was her name?” Mark says.

  “Melissa,” I mumble.

  “Yes!” all four of them say in unison.

  “Was it that good?” Kent asks.

  Yes. There was something about her, like she was desperate for the connection. She was definitely not like my usual hookups, but her sneaking off in the middle of the night? Well, that does something to a man. I’m used to the stage-five clingers, the ones who beg to get together again and plead for your number. The ones who frequent Bottom’s Up just to get the chance to come home with you again. The ones who will latch on to you and fake being asleep just so they can spend the night. That’s what I’m used to. Waking up alone in a hotel room? That doesn’t happen.

  At least not to me.
>
  No note, not even a trace of clothing for proof that she was there. It’s as though she were a figment of my imagination.

  “It’s all right, bud.” Seth places his hand on my shoulder. “We’ve all gone through a dry spell.” He’s trying hard not to laugh.

  “We got you,” Mark chimes in.

  “We’ll make sure our flavor of the night has a friend. And we’ll get her all liquored up so she wants to be with you,” Tyler says.

  “Surely, we can convince her,” Kent adds.

  “Fuck off.”

  “Ooh, I think we hit a nerve,” Seth taunts.

  “I don’t need help finding a willing female,” I grumble.

  “Really?” Kent questions.

  “Gentlemen, I think we have a challenge on our hands.” Tyler rubs his hands together in excitement.

  “Yep. We pick the girl.” Mark smirks.

  I grab my beer and bring it to my lips, just letting them talk. I’ve never had trouble with the ladies. It’s the dark hair and the tattoos. They all have a fantasy of being with the bad boy, the rebel who will make them feel dangerous and lively. The guy their mothers warned them about. Then, there are woman who simply see what they like and want to experience it. They think that’s me, but looks can be deceiving. Yeah, I have the dark, mysterious look—black hair, dark brown eyes, and the ink. Doesn’t mean I’m a bad guy. Sure, I’ve been with my fair share of women, but I’m a young, single guy. No harm no foul.

  “Any requests?” Seth asks.

  I look around the table at the four of them. “Nope,” I snap, tipping my beer to my lips.

  “Time to set the terms,” Marks says.

  “None needed. Pick the girl, and I’ll seal the deal,” I tell them with confidence.

  “Well now, cocky much?” Tyler accuses.

  “Fellas, I say we sweeten the pot. Mr. Cocky thinks he can seal the deal, so we just have to up the stakes.” Kent sits up in his chair, leaning his elbows on the table.

  I don’t say anything, just sit back and watch them. I can practically see the little wheels in their heads turning, deciding my fate. We’ve always been this way, never backing down from a dare.

  “I got it!” Mark exclaims. “Three months. We pick the girl and you keep her around for three months.” He sits back in his seat, grinning wildly.

  Fuck! Three months. That’s relationship material, and that equals feelings and a mess of drama when it ends. At times, the one-night stands are hard to get away from, even though they know the score. Three fucking months. What? Just so I can have bragging rights?

  “I’m digging it,” Seth agrees.

  A chorus of “Me, too” and “Hell yes” reaches my ears.

  “What are the stakes?” I ask. “Three months is relationship status. I’ll need more than bragging rights.”

  “Hundred bucks each,” Kent suggests. “And you can only be with her, no others.”

  Seriously?

  “I don’t need the money,” I say, signaling for the waitress to bring us another round.

  “No, but if you win, we would have to pay up. Unless of course you’re backing down already?” Seth goads me.

  Four hundred bucks and bragging rights. Is it worth it? Four sets of eyes full of mischief watch me, waiting for me to turn it down.

  What man would agree to keep some random woman, hand-picked by his friends from a smoky bar around for three months? That would be crazy, right?

  “Scared?” Mark heckles.

  “Make your pick, boys.” I smirk. Fuck it! It’s three months, and they didn’t say how much time I had to spend with her, just that she had to be around for three months. I’ve gone three months without sex, so that’s not an issue.

  Mark and Kent immediately begin searching the crowd for their suggestion. Seth looks confused, like he didn’t think I would agree. Tyler is smirking.

  Payback’s a bitch, boys.

  “Right, so we must consult. Ridge, my man, we’ll be right back,” Tyler says.

  I watch as the four of them stand and head to the bar.

  What the hell did I just get myself into?

  The cute little waitress brings another round, even though the guys are standing at the bar. I quickly grab mine and pound it back, slamming the empty bottle on the table.

  Game on.

  “Ridge, this is Stephanie,” Mark says as the rest of the guys take their seats. Turning to face the music, I see a blonde with long-ass legs and nice tits staring back at me. I prefer blondes.

  Maybe this isn’t going to be as bad as I thought.

  Standing from my seat, I reach for her hand and pull it to my lips. “Nice to meet you, Stephanie. Can I get you a drink?”

  “Hi.” She blushes. “My friends are actually at the bar.” She points over her shoulder.

  I don’t pull my eyes away from her, giving her all my attention. “You can sit by me.” I wink, pulling the chair out for her.

  “Thanks.” She grins.

  For the rest of the night, I focus on her. She seems . . . normal, not one of the crazies. Her friends are nice and otherwise occupied by mine. Everyone is having a good time, and I feel some of the dread slip away. Maybe, just maybe, I didn’t sign myself up for three months of hell.

  As the night carries on, my boys continue to drink, but I switch over to water. It’s go time, so I need to keep my wits about me, keep Miss Stephanie interested. As if she can read my thoughts, she yawns.

  “I’m so sorry.” She hides her mouth behind her hands. “I’ve been up since five this morning, and I’m worn out.”

  “What do you do?”

  “I work in interior design. I had a final staging today for a house we just completed.”

  Beautiful and holds down a job. “Let me take you home,” I whisper in her ear.

  “I-I . . . um, would love to, but I have to be up again early tomorrow,” she says while looking down at her clasped hands.

  “As much as I would love to share your bed with you tonight, that’s not what I meant. You’re tired and have been drinking. Let me drive you home, make sure you make it there safe.”

  She hesitates. I’m sure she’s trying to gauge if she can trust me. She looks around at our friends, who are obviously paired up.

  “Steph, Mark is coming home with me. You ready to go?” her friend asks. I didn’t bother to try and learn their names.

  This could not have worked out better. I brought Mark, her friend brought her. She needs a ride.

  “Just a ride,” I whisper against her ear.

  She nods. “Ridge said he could take me,” she tells her friend, who is draped over Mark.

  Mark grins.

  I fight the urge to flip his ass off. Instead, I stand and offer Stephanie my hand. She takes it, any hesitation she may have had now gone. I wave to the table and lead her out to my truck.

  Helping her inside, I wait until her seatbelt is on to shut the door, and then stop at the rear of the truck and take a deep breath. She seems chill, but who knows what the next three months will hold. This may be the first bet I ever lose. Shaking my head to remove that thought, I pull up my boxer briefs and make my way to the driver’s side. “So, where are we headed?”

  “It’s not far from here, actually.”

  I listen as she gives me general directions before pulling out of the lot. “You lived here long?” I ask.

  “No. The girls and I just moved here about three months ago. Carla’s parents own the firm we work for. They’ve been planning to expand for a while, so when we all graduated, that’s what they did. The three of us had instant jobs right out of college.”

  “That’s a pretty sweet deal.”

  “We were lucky, that’s for sure.”

  The cab of the truck grows silent. I’m pre-occupied with what I just agreed to and Stephanie . . . well, I’m not sure what’s going through her head right now.

  “Second house on the right,” she instructs, breaking the silence.

  Pulling into the drive,
I put the truck in park but don’t kill the engine.

  “Thank you.” She reaches for the door.

  Shit! I need to get with the fucking program here.

  “Stephanie.” I reach out and grab her arm. “Can I see you again?” My voice is soft; I don’t want to make her think I’m some kind of fucking creeper.

  “Yeah, uh, sure.”

  “Hand me your phone, darlin.”

  She hesitates before pulling it out of her purse and handing it to me. I quickly type in my number and send a text to myself. This act alone is against every rule I’ve ever had. I don’t get involved—too much drama, too much . . . of the same.

  I hand her phone back and smirk when mine sounds, alerting me to the message I just sent. Stephanie nods, then opens the truck door and hops out. I quickly do the same and follow her up to the door. I should be trying to seal the deal here, but fuck me, I can’t not tonight. I need to wrap my fucking head around what I just agreed to. This has to be my stupidest agreement to one of our bets yet.

  As she clears the final step to the front porch, I know time is running out. I have to say something, but she beats me to the punch.

  “You want to come in?”

  Do I? Of course I do. She’s a looker. In my mind, I quickly try to play out the next three months. Maybe if I keep her as a casual hookup, I can pull this off. No strings. Fuck, worst-case scenario, I’m out four hundred bucks. That’s not the part that bothers me, though. It’s the bragging rights, and to not have to hear the ribbing of my boys over the next twenty years—or at least until another bet, better than this one comes along.

  “Lead the way, darlin.’”

  Chapter 2

  Turns out, Stephanie was good with the ‘friends with benefits’ plan. She claims that her job keeps her busy and she doesn’t have time for anything more serious, so we agreed to hook up when we both had the urge and the time, no expectations. She also insisted that we not sleep with anyone else during that time. I’m good with that.

  It’s been two months today that we met. We hook up about once a week, and so far it’s working out great. I see my pocket being four hundred dollars richer very soon. The guys could not have chosen a better girl; she’s just as detached as I am. Plus, the sex is good, so it’s a win-win.