The stranger stood against the counter, holding his Blackberry, oblivious to her approach. As Niveah came up beside him, she tried to think of something clever to say. Anything besides the standard greeting. “I hope you’re enjoying your cognac,” she said, in her sultriest voice, “you strike me as the kind of man who likes a strong drink.”
Damien Hunter glanced up from his cell phone and his eyes bulged out of his head like a cartoon character. Standing before him in a slinky champagne-colored dress was a caramel-skinned goddess. A woman he felt an instant, undeniable connection to.
Examining her gave Damien great pleasure, so he did a slow, thorough appraisal. He took in every detail of her face, committing each exquisite feature to memory. Her blinding white teeth drew his attention to the delicate curve of her lips. To the pretty, full rosebuds he could already feel around his—
Damien purged his thoughts. He was putting the cart before the horse. Conversation first, mind-blowing sex after.
Resting his arms against the counter, he continued his assessment. Loose, luscious curls grazed her shoulders, brushing lightly against her arms. Her mouth looked sweet, her hips were fine and he was itching to stroke her long caramel brown legs. She looked wholesome, like the kind of woman who baked bread and enjoyed playing with children, but there was nothing innocent about her sultry smile. It was provocative, tinged with lust and full of suggestion. In his profession, he mixed with a lot of attractive women, but no one had ever captured his attention like this sister with the bedroom eyes. Play it cool, man, the voice inside his head cautioned. She’s just another crazy beautiful woman looking for a good time, and you’re just the man to give it to her. “What’s your name, beautiful?”
Niveah licked her lips. The sound of his voice, all deep and masculine, was enough to melt her panties right off. He oozed with confidence, pulsed with positive energy and smelled like expensive aftershave. “I’m Niveah. And you are?”
“Damien,” he said smoothly. “I appreciate you buying me a drink, but now it’s my turn to return the favor. What would you like?”
You, naked in my bed. The thought made a wave of giddiness sweep over her. Where had that come from? she wondered. Niveah hadn’t had sex in—hell, it had been so long she couldn’t remember. That’s why being in close proximity of this tall, dark and handsome man made her wet in all the right places. “Two cocktails are my limit, so I’ll just have a ginger ale.”
While he placed the order, Niveah checked out his profile. Jeanette was right about him being good-looking, but he was much, much more. On top of having a smooth-as-chocolate-pudding complexion, he had a straight nose, chiseled jaw and a chest that she was aching to lick, and stroke and caress. “Thank you,” she said, taking the glass he offered. Electricity passed between them when their fingers touched, and it took a moment for Niveah to recover. “Tell me about yourself, Damien.”
“I’m in town on business. What about you?”
Keeping up her end of the conversation was more difficult than riding a bicycle backward. Damien was a great conversationalist, who made her laugh, asked tons of questions and listened intently to her responses, but Niveah couldn’t concentrate. Her mind was all over the place, jumping from one illicit sexual thought to the next. It didn’t take her long to come to a decision: she was going to sleep with Damien, and when she heard the opening bar to her favorite R & B song, Niveah imagined herself kissing him all over.
“Care to dance?”
Niveah cast a glance at the overcrowded dance floor. “Yeah, but I don’t feel like getting trampled on.”
“Then we’ll dance right here.”
Singing the lyrics to the song, Niveah moved her shoulders and legs in time with the slow, erotic beat. R. Kelly was singing about being ready and so was she. Niveah liked the way he moved, loved how cool and self-assured he was.
Caught up in the moment, she abandoned herself to the music and allowed herself to be swept into his arms. It didn’t matter that they’d just met or that her girlfriends were watching; this felt right, fated, like the most natural thing in the world.
Needing to be closer to him, she curled her arms around his neck, swallowing the space that had been living between them. Niveah had never considered having a one-night stand before, but then again, she’d never met a man who looked fresh off the pages of a Ralph Lauren ad and whose voice tickled the area between her legs.
Damien drew her close. Close enough to feel her breasts. She felt soft, as delicate as a flower. Savoring the feel of her warmth, he inhaled her sweet flowery perfume. Slow dancing was the ultimate form of foreplay, and the more their bodies rubbed together, the more he wanted her. His confidence had taken a hit when his ex-girlfriend dumped him, but being approached by a woman who could win America’s Next Top Model was a huge ego boost. Niveah wasn’t shy about showing him what she liked, wasn’t afraid to take the lead. Holding his gaze, she covered his hands with her own, and dragged them down her hips and across her butt.
A hard-on grew in Damien’s pants. He was drowning, flailing, sinking faster than a fool in the ocean without a life jacket. One dance and he was a goner. Lost. Unable to keep a lid on his passion. What would happen when they kissed? Because it wasn’t a matter of if it would happen, but when it would happen.
Desperate to taste her, he pressed his mouth against the curve of her neck. Encouraged by her deep moans, he greedily ran his hands up and down her back. Damien’s head snapped up as if it had a mind of its own. What am I doing? He wanted this woman in his bed—tonight—but groping her in front of a room full of strangers wasn’t the way to go. “I’m thirsty, you?”
“Parched,” she whispered, her eyes moving slowly over his lips. “I don’t live too far from here. Care to come back to my place for a nightcap?”
Damien held up a white key card. “I have a better idea. Why don’t you come up to my room? Like I mentioned earlier, I’m in town on business and if you have no other plans, I’d love some company.” He added, “I don’t know anyone here, and hanging out with you would be a great way to kick off the year.”
To buy herself some time to consider his offer, Niveah took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. Going upstairs with him was insane. Something she’d always promised herself she’d never do. At least at her house she could control the situation, but there was no telling what would happen once they were alone in his domain. But did she really want a perfect stranger—even a gorgeous one—in her personal space? Her doubts mingled with the butterflies pelting her stomach. Did it matter where they went? Niveah wanted to spend the night with Damien, wanted to experience the thrill of having a one-night stand, and as long as her friends knew where she was going to be, there was nothing to fear. “I’m going to go say goodbye to my girlfriends,” she told him. “I’ll meet you in the lobby in five minutes.”
He nodded, squeezed her arm, then turned and walked away. Niveah watched him, admiring his long, even strides and how fine he looked in his tailored suit. Desire surged through her. She was ending the year off on a bang, and as she crossed the room toward her table, she could see the stunned expressions on her girlfriends’ faces. Smiling like a beauty pageant winner, she lifted her chin and added more bounce to her step. For the first time ever, she was leaving a party with the hottest man in the room. It was a heady, intoxicating feeling.
“Welcome back, Dirty Diana!” Roxi joked.
Jeanette pointed at Niveah’s empty cocktail glass. “Blame it on the alcohol is right! Exactly how many mai tais did you have?”
“I’m not drunk. That’s not what this is about. We … we really connected.”
“I