“That was some party you had. A divorce is the last thing that most women I’ve encountered would like to celebrate.”
“I’m not like most women that you’ve encountered.”
“How do you know that?”
“I know because I’m totally unique. There is no other woman like me.”
“I like that.” His looked me up and down, and his tongue moved across his lips. “I like that a lot.”
“Anyway…” The tension was building a little too fast. My plan was only half formed. I still hadn’t figured out how I was going to broach the subject of a one-night stand. “How do you know what I was celebrating? The party was supposed to be strictly women only.”
“Well…” He held up the wet towel that he was still holding. “I’m here because I’m part of the cleanup crew. I couldn’t help but overhear some of the conversations going on around the room.” He finished wiping the table. “By the way, you’re much too beautiful to be divorced.” I sat at one of the now-empty tables while he completed his work.
“So you think I’m beautiful, do you?” I crossed my legs high, and my dress slid up exposing most of my thighs. Hey, I am working under time constraints. His job is almost done! It is now or never!
“Yes, I do.” His eyes lingered on my thighs as I had intended.
“I think you’re beautiful, too,” I said. He laughed at that.
“Thank you…I think. I don’t believe anyone has ever called me beautiful.”
“I’m surprised, because you certainly are beautiful…in a handsome, very manly way of course.”
He looked at me doubtfully; then I watched his eyes scan the room as if he was looking for something. He nodded his head slightly, obviously satisfied with his work. He grabbed a box filled with linens from the buffet, then looked back at me.
“I’m done here. Can I walk you to your car?”
“My car is not here. I’m going to have to call a cab.” I sighed as if that was the last thing I wanted to do.
“Well then, can I give you a lift somewhere? I promise I won’t hurt you.” His look was a challenge. I stood up slowly and smoothed my dress over my hips. I think I brushed my tongue across my lips before answering him honestly.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
He made small talk during the fifteen-minute drive to my condo. He was divorced from his wife, had two kids, and had lived in Durham all of his life…blah blah blah blah. I didn’t talk too much about myself; I didn’t see the point. I had never had a one-night stand, but from everything that I had heard or read about them, I was sure that his conversation was way outside the boundaries of one-night stand etiquette.
What was the point of revealing so much about yourself to someone you would never see again? I made up for his gaucheness by ignoring virtually everything he said and concentrating instead on the movement of his full, sexy lips.
A dimple showed in his right cheek when he smiled at a joke that he made. I didn’t hear what he said, but I laughed politely and took the opportunity to place my hand on the thigh closest to me. He took his eye off the road for a minute to look at my deliberately placed hand.
“Be careful, you wouldn’t want me to get the wrong idea.”
“Are you sure about that?” I moved my hand up a little higher on his thigh. He ignored my question and turned his attention back to the road.
“Make a left here.” I leaned into him and pointed with my free hand. He turned onto the beautifully landscaped street and I watched the strong cords flex in his hands as he did so. “I’m the last unit on the right.” My heart was starting to beat faster; I didn’t know if I actually had the courage to proposition him straight out. The buzz from the champagne was wearing off and reality was beginning to set in.
I was sitting in some sort of catering van in front of my house planning to seduce—okay, to screw—a man I had never met before. The only thing that kept me from jumping out of the van and running full speed into my house was the fact that the muscles in his thigh felt so damn good under my hand and that I hadn’t been that close to a real dick in over a year.
He pulled close to the curb but left the engine on. “Would you like to come in?” I massaged the muscles in his thigh lightly, encouraging him to say yes. He didn’t take me up on my offer immediately.
“The lady back at the club said that you were drunk…are you?”
“Would it matter if I was?” He looked me up and down. His eyes lingered on my thighs, then briefly on my breasts.
“You don’t seem drunk to me.” We both laughed. I stopped laughing long enough to move my hand up a little higher on his thigh.
“I know exactly what I’m doing.” He put the van in Park and turned off the ignition.
“Then lead the way.” We both got out, and he followed my swaying hips into the condo. I normally entered through the garage, but I took my key from my bag and let us in the front door. I turned on the light and threw the key and bag on the table in the entrance. The key landed on the floor, but I didn’t bother to pick it up. I turned around to face him so quickly that he almost bumped into me. As it was, I could feel the heat from his body.
“What would you like to drink?”
“That depends on how long I can stay.” I leaned in close enough to make his lips part in anticipation.
“Double vodka straight up okay with you?” I whispered. A “you got me” smile spread across his face.
“I’ll take scotch on the rocks if you have it.”
“I have it. Sit down while I get your drink.” I pointed to the chocolate suede sofa in the center of the room. I dropped the broken sandal that I had been holding to the floor and walked to the liquor cabinet. My hips had a little extra sway in them just in case he was watching.
“I like your place.”
“Thank you.” I had spent more than I probably should have on furniture to make a home that was a reflection of me and only me. What I ended up with was a collection of modern and classic furniture in deep earth tones and creamy neutrals.
“Is this Heywood-Wakefield?” I was startled; first, because he recognized my vintage buffet turned liquor cabinet, and second, because instead of sitting on the sofa as I had directed, he had moved silently behind me. His lips were practically touching the back of my head.
“Yeah, it is. The dining room is also.” I turned and handed him his drink. He took it and used his free hand to caress the smooth surface of the mellow wood.
“It’s beautiful. You a collector?” I smiled at him and nodded my head.
“I have a few pieces.” I shrugged my shoulders to let him know it was no big deal, though it was. Normally, I would have gone into more detail. I loved my furniture, but I didn’t want to make small talk. We stared at each other for a long while, one waiting for the other to make a move or to say something.
He looked me up and down, and when his eyes met mine I didn’t turn away.
Apparently, he was tired of skirting the issue directly in front of him—me—because his next words were very much to the point. “I don’t really want this drink, what I want is for you to take me to your bedroom.” No more small talk from maple syrup man.
I felt a thumping at the center of my body; actually, the thumping was down a little farther. It was time to separate the woman from the girl. I took the drink from his hand and placed it behind me without looking; I thought about getting a coaster but decided it would mess with the