“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 blow.” 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.
“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.