One Night (6 page)

She stood up, devouring the sight of him. Reaching down, she yanked her shirt over her head. She would like to do something slow and seductive to make him want her as much as she wanted him, but it would take too long. His hands clenched at his hips, and she realized she didn’t need to be seductive or coy.

He already wanted her as badly as she wanted him.

Slowly, she ran her hands down her stomach, smiling at his sharp intake of breath, and lowered her still slightly damp skirt. It fell to her ankles, leaving her clothed only in her underwear.

He walked toward her with determination and spun her around. He yanked her closer until his chest was against her back. Desire quivered in her belly, and he closed his arms around her. Biting down on her shoulder gently, he slid his hands down her stomach, over the waistline of her underwear, and closed his hand over her core.

When his fingers pressed over her clit, she practically came right then and there. She whimpered and leaned back against him, needing more. More of everything. He massaged her with practiced strokes, his other hand cupping her breast and twisting her nipple in a way that made her knees tremble. Her legs gave out on her, and he caught her, easily tossing her onto the bed. Instead of lowering his body over hers, he dropped to his knees beside the bed and kissed her lower thigh.

Resting on her elbows, she dropped her head back and closed her eyes. He kissed her again, this time an inch or so higher. Then higher still, until he reached her inner thigh. Her breath caught in her throat, and she bit down on her lower lip to stifle the moan trying to escape. If he wanted to, he could bring her to pieces with a single touch.

And she had a feeling he wanted to.

He tugged her panties off, and then he was on her. He nibbled at her inner thigh then closed his mouth on her. When his tongue swept over her clit, she cried out in surprise. Her thighs clenched around his head, and she dug her hands into his hair. Holding him closer. Pushing him away.

The pleasure was so intense and so overpowering; she wasn’t sure which urge was stronger. Every sense and nerve inside of her seemed to be focused on him—and what he was doing to her. She curled her hands into his hair, arching her hips higher.

She tossed her head back and forth on his mattress, fighting for something to grasp on to. She’d never felt so out of control before—so free and loose. And it felt so damn
good
. When he thrust a finger inside of her, she exploded. Time froze all around her, and her body gave way to pleasure. By the time she resurfaced back to Earth, he had a condom on and was climbing on top of her.

Poised at her entrance, he cupped her cheeks and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. Tears filled her eyes at the tender gesture, and she curled her legs around his waist and urged him closer. He groaned, and then seemed to just … snap. He thrust inside of her with one smooth motion, filling her completely. She had thought she was all spent—unable to feel any more pleasure without collapsing.

But she was wrong.

As soon as he began moving inside of her, she came to life. She demanded more. She dug her nails into his back, moving against him restlessly. He growled and deepened the kiss, his mouth devouring hers as if he needed her kisses to survive. With one swift roll, he was on his back and she straddled him.

He arched up into her, going even deeper inside. She curled her fingers into his pecs and rode him. Letting her head drop back, she folded her legs behind her and fell into a fast and hard rhythm. His breaths quickened, matching hers. Reaching between them, he flicked his fingers against her core—and she lost all sense of time or rhythm.

Their tempo increased, perfectly matched, and she miraculously found her pleasure again. This time, though, he was there with her. He stiffened and gripped her hips tight, holding her in place as he lost himself inside of her. When they both came down from the clouds, she collapsed against his chest. His arms wrapped around her tight, holding her as if he didn’t want to let her go.

His breath fluttered out over her head, tickling her ear. She closed her eyes, not wanting reality to intrude on them. She had gotten what she wanted. Justin and distraction from the world—wrapped up in one neat package. But … now what? She wasn’t exactly versed in the moments after a one-night stand. What was she supposed to do? Thank him and get dressed? Stay and spoon?

She was freaking clueless.

He gave a light laugh. “If I can guess correctly from your increasingly tense body … you’re now panicking.”

She lifted up on her elbows, looking down into his gorgeous blue eyes. “Panicking? No. Questioning my sanity? Maybe a little bit.”

He cupped her cheeks, tugging her down for a gentle kiss. It melted her heart, and made her wonder if she was worrying herself over nothing. “No questioning needed. Don’t over think it. People do this kind of thing all the time.”

“Not me.”

A loud boom sounded off in the distance, and they both turned toward the window. The fireworks had started. He was right. It hadn’t just been a line to get her back to his apartment. He had an
excellent
view of the sky.

His arms flexed around her. “Looks like it’s time for the show.”

“Funny. I thought we just had one ourselves.”

He chuckled and hugged her close. She watched the burst of colors in silence, not moving. He seemed oddly still, too. It should have felt awkward being wrapped in his arms, naked and sweaty, watching the fireworks. She barely knew him, and yet she’d just had the best sex of her life in this very bed. She should be ashamed or feel something other than … content.

Yep. She was perfectly content to stay here, in his arms, all night long.

Resting her cheek on his chest, she let out a little sigh. After a second’s hesitation, his hands rubbed up and down her back, almost reverently. Once the show dwindled down to nothing, she gathered up her nerve and rested her chin on his chest.

He smiled up at her, tucking her hair behind her ear. “You look confused. What’s wrong?”

“I don’t exactly do this kind of thing. I have no idea what happens next. I’m kind of out of my element.” And naked.
Very
naked. Suddenly, she needed to get dressed. She rolled off of him and grabbed her skirt, yanking it up her legs with trembling hands. Though she didn’t know what she felt right now, panic and pleasure were mixing and confusing the hell out of her. “I can’t find my shirt.”

He sighed. “It’s over there. By the door. And what happens next is entirely up to you. You could go … or you could stay.”

The way he said the word
stay
made it sound as if that’s what he wanted her to do. Or was she imagining things? She grabbed her shirt and pulled it over her head. Once she was covered, she crossed her arms over her chest and faced him. As soon as she saw him lying there, still naked, she flushed. “Shouldn’t you get dressed now?”

“I could, if you’d like.” He stood up and walked over to her. Resting his hands on her shoulders, he looked deep into her eyes. Just looking at him calmed her rapid heartbeat down, and made her stop worrying. “I know you’re freaking out right now, but sometimes not knowing what’s going on is a good thing. Sometimes, it’s good to let go.” He rubbed his jaw. “To have no idea what’s coming tomorrow.”

“For you maybe. Not me.” She bit down hard on her lip. “I don’t like surprises or not knowing things.”

He paled. “No matter what you decide to do … if you need anything at all, I’m here for you. Whether it’s a shoulder to cry on or a night of forgetting, I’m here. Okay?”

Lexi rolled her hands into fists. If she didn’t, she might touch him. And if she touched him, she wouldn’t be able to think straight. And if she couldn’t think straight, she might forget all about Hugh and jump into Justin’s arms without a second thought. And that wouldn’t be fair to Hugh’s memory. Or, to Justin.

Her heart wrenched. “Okay.”

He kissed her one more time, so soft and gentle he broke her heart again. His hands dropped from her shoulders, and she slowly opened her eyes. She almost didn’t want to. Almost didn’t want to remember. He was looking at her with a mixture of happiness and sadness, all rolled into one.

He dragged a hand through his hair. “I’m going to hit the loo. Are you still going to be here when I get back?”

She nodded jerkily. “Yeah. Sure.”

“Brilliant. We have to talk about, uh … something when I come back.”

Talk? What did he want to talk about? “Okay.”

He gave her a long, searching stare she couldn’t read, then headed for the bathroom door—still bare assed naked. Hot damn, the man looked good.

While he washed up, she busied herself with putting the rest of her clothes on. How long did it take for him to clean up? She hadn’t heard a sound out of the bathroom since he went in it. If he hadn’t left her side, she wouldn’t be feeling so damn uncomfortable right now. Like an intruder in his home. Why did he have to leave? Didn’t he know how close she was to running away and never seeing him again?

Then it hit her.

Maybe she was
supposed
to leave. Perhaps the “talk” would be him giving her his rehearsed speech about not wanting commitment, or a relationship. What if he was biding his time in there, staring at his fingernails and tapping his foot, hoping she would get the point and leave before he came out? Before he had to give her the talk? Maybe she should leave before he came back and had to politely inform her he wanted her out of his home.

In her defense, she had slept with two men her whole entire life.
Two
. Well, now three. How could she have done something like this? Swallowing back the rising panic, she scrambled for her purse, picked up her heels and rushed out of the bedroom. She didn’t stop running until she cleared the apartment and reached the elevator doors. Once she was safely inside, she stepped into her heels and leaned against the wall. Tears crept down her cheeks, and she swiped them away with the back of her hand. She’d acted so foolish and impetuously. She’d been completely out of character and out of her comfort zone. And worse yet?

She wanted to stay that way.

Chapter Five

The next evening, when the door closed behind the make-up artist, Justin picked up his journal and opened it on his lap. He wished he had someone he could ring to reassure him he wouldn’t fail—besides Gary. He had been alone for so long he didn’t even remember what it felt like to have a family. To be loved. He wished he had someone … anyone … who cared enough about him to hang with him backstage and calm him down.

But wishes were useless in the face of reality.

Anyone who would have sat backstage with him was across the pond or dead. So instead he scribbled down a few words in his journal—words no one else would ever read—and closed the cover. Then he dropped his head between his knees and took deep, steadying breaths. Blast it all to hell, he would be on stage in ten minutes and all he could manage to do was sit here thinking of all the ways he could and would fail. Before last night, he hadn’t thought he could feel any more miserable than he already had.

But he had been wrong.

Before last night, Lexi hadn’t slept with him, thinking he was stage crew. Before last night, Lexi hadn’t run away from him while he was in the loo. He couldn’t have been in there for more than a couple of minutes. Just enough time to calm his racing heart and get up the nerve to tell her who he really was and beg her to stay despite his lies.

Yet when he came out all signs of her ever being there were gone. Not even a note or a phone number left behind. She’d gotten her distraction, and then she’d left him. If not for the rumpled sheets and the scratches down his back, he would swear he imagined the whole affair.

She couldn’t wait to leave him when he wanted to hold her close and never let her go. How ironic that the first girl he’d ever wanted to stay couldn’t wait to leave him. Maybe she had seen the way he’d been feeling about her in his eyes. He scared himself with the things she brought out in him—of course it would scare her away, too. He sang about falling for someone at first sight in the show, but he didn’t really believe in it. Now here he was, unable to stop thinking about Lexi. Unable to let go.

And he sounded absolutely pathetic. Enough of the pity train he’d boarded.

Shaking his head, he forced his mind from her haunting eyes and bewitching smile. He couldn’t afford to think about her right now. He had spent his whole bloody day worrying about what her reaction would be once she saw him onstage. Trying to decide if she already regretted last night.

Once she saw him up on that stage, she probably would—if she didn’t already. Not only did he lie to her, but she had already told him she didn’t like surprises. And him being Marius definitely fell under the “surprise” category. Right now he needed to focus on the show. He checked his cell and flinched. Three minutes.

He better get off his arse and move.

He took one final breath, then the door opened. It was the lead prostitute he thought he’d knocked down in the alley last night. “I just ran into Jenny. She asked me to tell you that it’s time for you to come out.”

Jenny was the stage manager, so it made this all the more realistic. Time to go on stage. “All right. I’m on my way.”

She sauntered inside his room, her hips swinging. Her low cut prostitute costume left little to the imagination, and she bent down to show him even more. Trailing a finger down his chest, she straightened his cravat for him. “Afterwards, we can get a drink to celebrate your success, if you’d like.”

He fought the urge to tell her to bugger off. It wasn’t her fault he was in a foul mood. “I’ll probably just go home and sleep. But thank you.”

She dipped her hand lower. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Justin halted her hand before it reached his waistband, but smiled at her to soften the blow. He hadn’t been interested before, and he definitely wasn’t interested now. She had the wrong hair color. He wanted blonde. Her eyes were blue instead of green. And she wasn’t a serious businesswoman who never seemed to be able to relax until he made her …