Just One Night: Part 2 (8 page)

“Oh my god … William … it’s happening!” She grabs two fistsful of my hair and squeezes, guiding me right to the spot where she needs me most. Her hips roll with her emotions, grinding her mound into my face. I can’t get enough. I’ve never been with such a passionate, lusty woman.

I focus all my attention on her nub while I move first one and then two fingers into her entrance. Her wetness makes it very easy to slide in and out with the slow rhythm that I know will drive her mad. My free hand holds her skirt out of the way, ready to drop it back down in case we have visitors. I pray that we don’t before she’s finished.

Within seconds, a pulsing of her walls grips my fingers, and a liquid warmth gushes down and into my hand. I keep licking and sucking, moving my fingers in and out. She jerks and quivers against the wall as her grip in my hair lessens and she’s overcome with her orgasm. Her legs tremble and her breath comes in gasps. I send up another quick prayer, this time to the god of fucking, that no one will come along to spoil our fun.

“Oh my god … oh my god … oh my god …” She’s nearly crying and I take that as a good sign. I stroke her gently with my tongue a few more times for good measure, reveling in the power I have over her body. She cannot sit still or stop moaning as I lick away all evidence of her orgasm.

When her quivers turn into convulsions of pleasure mixed with pain, I draw away, dropping her dress down to where it belongs and taking to my feet again. Her scent is everywhere, and I know I will miss it when it’s gone.

Sweat has caused her hair to stick to her face in places. As I wipe my mouth and then wet hand off on my handkerchief, I pause to use the other to move her hair off her cheek. “Happy?” I ask. Silly question, really, but I feel as though I should say something that will end our moment on a positive note.

“Very,” she says, sleepily.

A cackling, drunk laugh comes down the hall in our direction and it has the effect of waking Jennifer up almost instantaneously. She pushes and pulls her dress into place and then makes a few swipes of her hair and face.

“Oops! Sorry!” says an inebriated woman in very high heels. She staggers past us on the arm of a half-conscious man a foot shorter than she is. “I think we just caught them fucking.”

I look down at Jennifer and take in her disheveled glow. “She’s right you know. She just caught us fucking.”

Jennifer grins, even though I know she’d rather be outraged. “You are so bad.”

I lift an eyebrow. “Funny… I rather thought you found me good.”

She moves her hand until it’s resting against the front of my trousers. A few strokes and she has John Thomas already considering another go. “I do find you rather good. Rather awesome, actually.”

“This isn’t the rest of our date, I’ll have you know.” I’m worried she’s going to play Cinderella again and disappear with only one shoe. I’m not ready for that yet. I’ll be ready later.

“I know. I just needed to get a drink, you know. You didn’t need to go all caveman on me.”

I lean down and give her the chastest of kisses. “I am not a caveman. I am just an English gentleman enjoying a passionate moment with a fun-loving American girl.”

She gives me what looks like a sad smile. “Come on. Let’s go get a drink.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Jennifer

I DON’T KNOW WHY, BUT every time William says something that brings up the fact that this is a temporary moment, it bursts my happy bubble. I’m just coming down off hot sex against the wall and I’m reminded again of how this will all be over in a matter of hours. I seriously need to get my drink on. My emotions are too raw and out there for safety. I need to deaden the feelings that keep rising up to choke me.

We reach the bar and battle a crowd at the edge of it to get the bartender’s attention. He stands in front of us and holds up a finger to tell us not to speak. His finger goes to his ear and he cocks his head, as though he’s listening to someone. When his hand moves back away, I see an earbud there. He’s smiling at us like a total pervert. It makes me want to leave this place and never come back. I rub my upper arms trying to make the feeling go away and shake my head at my irrational response to a bad smile. I think I’m already beginning the process of experiencing my next William hangover.

“Can I get you a drink?” he yells, leaning across the bar a little. He’s staring at my boobs, of course.

“Yes.” I look up at William. “What do you want?”

“I’ll have a vodka martini, rocks, with a twist.”

The bartender is waiting for me. I chew my lip as I try to decide whether to go for a beer or something more ladylike.

“How about a sloe comfortable screw up against the wall?” the bartender says.

With a straight face. Just like that. He offers to make me a mixed drink that describes exactly what I just did around the corner from his work station. Okay, so it wasn’t slow, but it was a screw and up against the wall. Oh my god.

“Uhhh … what?” Yeah, that’s it. Play dumb. Try and use the stall time to figure out if this is just a fluke.

“Thought you looked like the type that might like that.” He shrugs and smiles again. Or maybe it’s more a leer than a smile. It skeeves me out, whatever it is.

“You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think that you have some information you’d like to share,” William says, moving me over to the side a little and putting himself more prominently in front of the bartender.

“Share? Me? Nah. But if you’re the type to share, well, sure.” He shrugs. “I’d maybe take you up on that.” He looks at me again, or I should say, he looks at my chest.

It happens so fast I never see it coming. William’s hand goes across the bar and grabs the bartender’s shirt. He yanks hard and pulls him towards us, causing the guy to drop the glass he’d been holding as he crashes into the bar top.

“What the …?!” The bartender is as shocked and surprised as I am.

“Give me that fucking thing,” William growls, pulling the ear bud out of the guy’s ear.

“Hey, asshole! What the hell!” The bartender struggles against William’s grip with little success.

I back away to avoid being hit by swinging fists.

William’s furious. My charming, sexy Englishmen has become a raging bull. He pulls the bartender completely over the bar and throws him to the ground at his feet. “Where are the cameras?” he yells in the guy’s face, holding him down with two fistsful of shirt now.

“Fuck you, man! This is a private club! You don’t have any rights here!”

A bouncer shows up and grabs William by the shoulder, pulling him up and away from the bartender below him. “You gotta leave, man. Don’t do anything stupid.”

The bartender stumbles to his feet and tries to straighten his shirt.

William brushes the bouncer off, standing up straight and fixing his hair. “I want to talk to the manager. I believe he’ll know what about.”

The bouncer rolls his eyes, sighing like he’s incredibly tired. “She’s up there.” He points to a dark space at the end of a set of stairs. “I’ll have to escort you.” He puts his hand up to his ear and speaks. “I’m coming up with this dude.” He points at William, nods once, and then gestures across the room. “Come on. After you.”

I stand there dazed and confused. What just happened here? Why was William so angry at a complete stranger? And what’s with the camera comment? Did someone take a picture of us? Oh, my god … that would be soooo embarrassing.

Mia shows up at my side. “What’s going on? Did you get in a fight?”

“William did. I think.”

Edward walks over to his brother and puts a hand on his shoulder, looking at him and talking quietly. Everyone in the vicinity was giving them room and starting at them, but as the seconds tick by, they begin to fill in the spaces around us.

“Come on,” the bouncer says. “I ain’t got all night.”

“Wait here,” William says to me. He’s distracted, not really seeing me.

I want to respond, but nothing I can think of will come out right, so I shut my mouth.

Mia is not suffering the same dilemma. “What the fuck, man. Edward, where are you going?”

“Just cool your jets, love. We’ll be back in a flash.”

She screws up her face. “Don’t tell me to cool my jets. Who do you think you are?”

“Do what you want, then. See if I care.” And then he’s gone, following his brother through the crowd that parts to let them through and up the stairs into the darkness beyond.

Mia spins and turns her anger on me. “What the hell just happened here?”

My jaw drops open. I throw my hands up and sputter. “How is this my fault?! I warned you about him, didn’t I?”

Mia grabs my arm and starts dragging me away from the bar. “Come on. We’re leaving.”

I yank back and stop her. “No, I don’t want to leave.”

“Oh! Okay! So you’re choosing that limey fruit basket over me?” She throws her hands up and lets them come down to slap her legs.

“He’s not a limey fruit basket. He’s … nice.” That sounded lame even to my own ears, but it was way better than saying he just went down on me in the hallway and we had plans to continue more of the sexy stuff later.

“Yeah, he’s nice. But he’s
done
with you after tonight, remember? And it’s midnight and I’m cranky and I don’t want to be here when that asshat Edward comes out of that office up there.”

I ignore the harsher part of her grand statement and focus on her hurt feelings instead. “Why not? You seemed to like him.”

“Him? No way. He’s a cocky jerk who obviously fell in love with himself at a very young age. I was just using him to get away from Malcolm and to help you have some sexy time with your fruit basket. Come on. I’m serious. Let’s go.”

I cast another glance up the stairs, wishing William would appear to save the day. I totally hate myself for picturing him as a knight in shining armor. Have I not had my heart broken by other people enough times that I need to do it to myself?

“He’s a one night stand, Jennifer. Give it up. He’s not interested in a relationship.”

I want to tell her she doesn’t know that, that she doesn’t know him, but I don’t waste my time. She’s right. She’s not candy coating it, but that doesn’t make it not the truth. He answered my ad precisely because he’s that kind of guy. Yes, we are completely compatible sexually and we have a good time chatting, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to turn him into a man he isn’t … the marrying kind. Reality is what it is, and I’m not someone who can change that. No one can.

“Fine. I’m coming.” Leaving on my own terms is probably way better than being a mamby pamby whiney baby who falls into tears as William drives off into the sunset.

I slog through the writhing mass of people who quickly went back to their bumping and grinding as soon as the excitement of William’s fight died down. I refuse to look over at the bartender because I know he’ll be smirking in satisfaction. I don’t make eye contact with anyone. There’s no way I can hide the fact that I am totally and completely disappointed in how my life is working out, and the idea of seeing pity in their eyes is too unbearable in a place like this.
 

I wonder if the grocery store that has the pulpy orange juice is open right now.

CHAPTER TWELVE

William

I TAKE THE STAIRS TWO at a time, livid with anger not only at the gross violation of my privacy but also at myself. I should have checked for cameras. If I owned this place, that dark hallway is exactly where I’d put one. Or three.

The bouncer moves around me when we get to the top of the stairs and pushes in the combination on a keypad lock. “After you,” he says as the door swings open.

At the end of the black-painted hall is a green door. “She’s inside. I’ll be out here when you’re done. Then you have to leave.” His voice would be a lovely baritone if I weren’t so angry. Now I would describe it as having more a grim reaper quality to it. I’m quite sure the slow and steady way he carries himself is nothing to judge him by. I will not be crossing this man tonight. I’ve been fighting Edward and his enemies most of my life, but that doesn’t mean I have a death wish. Just a bit of a Galahad complex, maybe.

Edward takes offense on my behalf, laughing with irony. “Get a load of this bloke, Will, telling us to shove off after we’re done here.” He turns on the bouncer. “Right! As if we’d want to stay in this skip? Think again, dustman. Think a-gain.” He pokes the guy’s chest twice for emphasis.

I open the door before my brother can get us into any more trouble than I’ve already managed. I find myself in the entrance of a large, open office with a desk at the far side. There is a woman sitting at that desk in a high-backed leather chair and I’m not sure whether to feel sick or elated over the fact that I know her face.

“Well, well, well, would you look at who we have here,” she says. Her Cheshire Cat smile tells me she has me exactly where she wants me. I’m nervous but not cowed, worried but not yet desperate.

“Who’s this, then?” Edward asks, abandoning his harassment of the bouncer in favor of getting details on my private life. “Do you two know each other?”

“Not as well as I thought we did,” she says. Her smile turns downright evil. She is enjoying this way too much for my comfort.

I sigh heavily and face my brother. “Edward, this is Ingrid. She works as a solicitor in my building.”

“Actually it’s my building,” she says, all traces of humor gone. “Your brother works in
my
building. And apparently he also comes to
my
club in his free time.”

“Got your hands in a lot of pots, is that it?” Edward says to her, turning on the charm. “Exciting, isn’t it, Will? I love a woman with power.” He leans in closer to me and murmurs in my ear. “You think she has a torture dungeon below the club?”

She ignores him in favor of laser-beaming me with her serpentine eyes. I’m afraid to confirm whether her pupils are longitudinal instead of round.

“You asked to see me?” she says, playing the innocent.

I look at the bank of computer screens to her left. As I suspected, they’re projecting images of things happening around the club. Several of the images show dark corridors.