One Night Stand E-Book

L. Moone

• Herausgeber: eXplicitTales Romance
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020

Beschreibung

I was only looking for Mr. Right Now…

All I want is a night of distractions to take my mind off the stressful business meetings I’ve had day. At the pub, I quickly spot the perfect counterpart to share tonight with. Whereas I’m all business, he’s tall, burly, long-haired as well as tattooed. We’re nothing alike, and yet click almost immediately.

His rugged biker looks are just a mask; one he quickly takes off when we’re alone. What I find beneath the surface might be too precious to let go. I don’t do relationships, generally. Neither does he. But come morning, the last thing we want is to say goodbye.

Could it be that I have accidentally stumbled across Mr. Right?

Read on and find out.

Chance Encounters is a series of stand-alone novellas set in jolly old England, following a set of regular women as they find love in unexpected places. What do they have in common? When each couple meets, it is purely by chance, yet passion strikes immediately. They'll have to deal with the consequences of their actions once the sun comes up...

Available titles:
One Night Stand
Beautiful Stranger
Only a Taste

Leseprobe

One Night Stand

A Steamy Big Boy Romance by L. Moone

From casual encounter to something more?

Lucy is used to having a handle on things herself: her business, which she’s fighting to turn around after a rough patch, and her love life, which consists of carefully conducted casual encounters during which only she calls the shots.

A one night stand with George - the tall, husky biker whose rough exterior hides a gentler side - changes everything. Lucy’s usual approach doesn’t work anymore: come morning, she doesn’t want to say goodbye. Perhaps it’s time to let someone into her life for more than just one night?

Meanwhile, the crucial project she’s just landed is about to fall to pieces, threatening her reputation as well as her finances. Suddenly Lucy has to learn what it’s like to not be in control of anything at all.

© 2015 L.Moone

Published by eXplicitTales

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This book has been previously released with a different cover and author name.

Table of Contents

One Night Stand

Recipe for Passion (Preview)

Author's Note

Chapter One

The meeting has left me exhausted and wired. Although it went well and I've landed the project, I don't feel too excited about it. The new customer is the sort of type whom you could give the equivalent of a perfect sunset and yet he'd be tweaking the colors until there would be no magic left in it.

Ordinarily I don't entertain such people, my web design company had grown successful enough that I didn't need to accept that kind of drain on my energy levels. However, lately things have been tough, and the project is too big and prestigious to pass up. Fingers crossed, with Akhil's support I can pull it off; it would turn things around for me.

Finding him to manage a team of freelancers in India had been a godsend on many previous occasions. I'm sure he will be equally valuable this time around.

If I ever deserved a drink, now is the time. I need to shake this knotted feeling in my chest, before it drives me nuts. It'll turn out fine, as always...

When I'm out by myself, rather than enjoying a fancy dinner, I usually opt for something simple, portable. A kebab or something from the chip shop. The rest of the evening will be spent whiling the hours away in the first decent-looking pub I can find.

And I've just found it.

As soon as I've found my seat of choice in the dimly lit establishment, I notice him. Sitting on a bar stool nursing a full pint while his two friends stand around waiting for their refills. They clearly arrived as a group, but while I observe them it quickly becomes clear that they are not planning to just sit at the bar together.

He's sporting a typical metal head ponytail, longer than my own hair and it really suits him. Too many guys can't get past their old faithful long hairstyle, even when their mane starts to thin. His hair is thick and full though and the first thing I noticed. I have always had a thing for men with long hair.

Chance brought me here tonight to the aptly named "Old Oak". Only a short walk from my hotel, its traditional wood paneled decor looks like the perfect environment to escape to.

It's the sort of place which you can imagine to have been here forever. Probably has done for hundreds of years, largely looking the same but growing ever brighter and shinier. I had planned to just sit here, have a couple of drinks and watch the normal goings-on unfold around me. But my initial plan of staying largely out of sight is starting to look like a bad idea.

From my corner by the window, in between sips of Baileys on ice, I keep eyeing him. Black jeans paired with sturdy biker boots and an untucked black shirt covering his broad frame on top. He looks like an imposing figure, even hunched over as he is at the bar. Like a giant.

I wish he'd turn around. I also wish I had bought my drink from this bar counter rather than the other one, at least I could have had a better look at him before finding my seat.

Like a reluctant predator, I'm just sitting here and staring at him from behind. If I hadn't chosen to sit in such a discreet location, it might have been the other way around.

My phone distracts, a message from Akhil, asking about the meeting and if we can talk. It can wait. I came here to forget about the irritating client with the project I couldn't refuse, not to talk about it. Stuffing the phone back into my handbag, I resume my earlier observations.

His friends are long gone by now, leaving an unoccupied stool beside him and my glass is getting empty quickly. Shall I? It feels so reassuring being unnoticed that I'm very reluctant to get up. I guess I'm just a coward when it comes down to making the first move, and my dark corner feels so safe.

He takes a big last sip from his glass and I panic. What if he's going to call it a night? If he leaves now I'll forever wonder what could've been!

Before I know it my feet carry me towards the bar, while I absent-mindedly smooth down my business-like grey skirt and waistcoat combo. Despite the buzz of the drunken conversations that fills the space, the clicking of my heels on the wooden floorboards is almost as deafening as my heart pounding in my chest.

He turns towards me as soon as I reach and I'm frozen in place. Concentrating on continuing to breathe, I tuck my black wavy hair behind my ear and glance in his direction.

I take in his strong Nordic features, his full lips and steely blue eyes that stand in stark contrast against the dark brown of his hair and short beard. All I can manage is a shy smile before hurriedly looking away.

My instincts served me well, if I had stayed in my seat, I would've regretted it. I feel tiny standing next to him, which causes me to feel an even stronger attraction. And his eyes on me, I can almost feel them stabbing and probing.

His hands are huge as well, manly. I wonder how he'd touch me, if those hands could be gentle or if they only know how to be rough. There's no sign of a wedding ring: what a relief.

It has been decided, I want him at any cost.

"What can I get you, darling?" The bartender interrupts my thoughts.

"Oh I'll have a Baileys, thanks." Taking a deep breath I turn towards my mark. "Would you like anything, while I'm buying already?"

Surprised, it takes him a few seconds to respond. Or perhaps he's as distracted by our eye contact as I am.

"Ice?" the bartender asks. I nod in response before resuming to look at the giant's face again.

The short interruption appears to have helped him get his thoughts in line too.

"Another Guinness," he tells the bartender.

His deep voice matches his impressive stature and makes my heart jump a few beats. I put a tenner down on the bar, hoping that the goose bumps on my arms aren't too obvious.

"Mind if I take this seat?" I say, "You're not holding it for anyone, are you?"

"Sure, go ahead."

While I get onto the stool, our drinks appear in front of us.

"Cheers." I'm trying my best to sound a lot more confident than I feel.

"Cheers." His voice elicits another wave of chills to wash over me.

I desperately try to think of something to say. Apparently my brain thinks it's funny to only feed me utter clichés. I take another sip while trying to come up with something a bit less moronic than 'come here often?'

"You're here on your own?" I finally ask. Still pretty stupid but I can't do any better right now.

"Came with two mates of mine from work. They'll be around here somewhere, on the pull probably," he responds.

"And you've stayed behind? How so, got a girlfriend?" I blurt out the question before I'm able to stop myself. Still, the information is pertinent.

He blinks at me a few times, eyebrows pulled together possibly in surprise at my question.

"No girlfriend. And I opted to stay here because frankly I can do without the inevitable rejection."

"Understandable, I find it quite nerve-wracking to approach people myself."

He seems off, I wonder if I'm making him uncomfortable. But if there ever was an appropriate time and place to ask strangers prying questions, it certainly would be here and now; Friday night in a busy London pub.

He shakes his head slowly before lifting his pint to his lips. I follow suit but can't help wondering what he's thinking.

"I don't see how you'd have that problem. I'm sure you get plenty of attention without even trying," he says finally, almost mumbling the words into his glass.

I look him right in the eyes and helplessly give in to my urge to grin before answering.

"Perhaps the attention I tend to get without trying isn't the one I want."

We just stare at each other for what feels like ages. Neither of us seem in a hurry to look away. I leisurely let my mind wander, still curious what his hands might feel like against my skin. And those lips...

Objectively speaking, he looks like the sort of guy you'd avoid messing with if you can help it. I'm certain that when he walks down the street, people will instinctively part to make way. At the same time his mannerisms, his way of speaking have me convinced that behind the imposing facade, he's a really sweet guy. I wonder what makes me so sure, I don't even know him... yet.

"George, mate!" Two figures appear behind us, one giving him a supposedly jovial smack on his shoulder. The dark expression on his face tells me he's not overly pleased for the interruption.

"Lads..." he says.

"Made a friend, I see? What's your name, love?" The scrawny one who smacked George on the shoulder is leaning against him now and hungrily looking at me.

It doesn't help that he's had quite a bit more to drink than me and it's showing. Meanwhile, the other one is trying to get the bartender's attention.

"Lucy," I answer. My flight instinct becomes too strong to ignore. "Excuse me for a minute, guys."

I steady myself against George's arm while slipping off the bar stool. The apologetic expression on his face is quite endearing. I let go of him and start walking towards the facilities.

Hopefully by the time I'm done wasting some time checking my make-up, George will be by himself again. I suppose I can't blame him for staying at the bar while at least the creepy one of his so-called friends will make a fool of himself in front of every woman in the pub.

Chapter Two

The Ladies' toilet is empty when I walk in, though had there been a queue it would've been a good enough excuse to take my time coming back to the bar.

While smoothing down my hair with my fingers in front of the mirror, I can't help wondering why he hangs out with those guys. When they came up to us, I really got the impression he dislikes both of them. I lean in closer, wiping off tiny bits of eyeliner that have made their way outside my lash line.

I'm relieved to find a condom dispenser on the wall next to the sinks and load it up with all the coins I have. It's best to be prepared, just in case.

The door opens and two girls stagger in, giggling and supporting each other by the arm. I catch the closing door as they pass me and sneak up to the corner from where I get a view of the bar. It seems that the coast is now clear. I guess creepy man and sidekick wandered off looking for more potential victims.

Luckily my seat is still unoccupied, or perhaps George held it for me. I feel a tad less nervous walking up to him and the unmistakable beat of my boots on wood is now more rousing than intimidating.

"So, where were we..." I say.

Climbing back onto my stool, I lean on one elbow and face him. If this is me attempting to look laid back, I don't think it's working. With both feet dangling high above the floor like a toddler in a high chair, looking cool is an impossibility.

He looks over at me, the relief evident in his eyes.

"I'm sorry about that, especially Steve, he can be a bit of a knob at times."

"That's okay. Was it that obvious that I was running away?" My eyes are drawn to his lips, watching him reciprocate my smile.

"A bit, yeah, you had me worried for a bit that you weren't just avoiding him. Well, glad you came back anyway," he says.

"Of course I came back," I say, "just wanted to time it so I'd get you to myself again."

We're back to staring at each other. I wonder why he hasn't made a move, asked any personal questions. The way he's looking at me does suggest he is interested.

Finally I reach out for my glass which is still sitting there and start sliding it back and forth on the wooden counter causing the half-melted ice cubes in it to clink together.

"So, George... are you local?" I look up, catching his gaze once more.

It doesn't seem like he ever looked away.

"Sort of, just came in for a few drinks after work before heading home. I live near Heathrow. You?"

"Not really, I live in Reading and I'm only in town for one night, a business trip of sorts." I pause, wondering if I should clarify.

"I booked a hotel to save me the late journey home. It's only a short walk from here actually."

"Alright," he says.

Really, that's all? Subtle hints don't appear to be enough to convey my intentions for tonight.

Between the exchanged looks, the small talk continues for a little while longer. George is a programmer apparently, such a coincidence we both work in IT.

I give him my card with my contact details, scribbling on it to add my mobile number, but resist the temptation to go into more detail. After all, I came in here to escape work, not discuss it.

He studies the card, fidgeting with it for a short while before looking back at me.

"How about you, seeing anyone?" he asks.

Finally.

"Not for a while, no." I smile at him, waiting for a reaction.

He is interested, it's written all over his face. But why is he still making me work for it?

Inside my chest a confusing combined feeling of relief and nerves has built up. The tension between us feels strong, almost too intimidating.

I bite my lip and look down, underneath his half open shirt I can just about see a black Tee with a familiar looking band logo printed across the front.

"Say..." I lean towards him and push one side of his shirt out of the way. Just being so close to him and nearly touching his chest with my fingertips is making my heart skip way too many beats at once.

"Blind Guardian? What a coincidence, I love them!" I exclaim, nearly breathless.

It's impossible for me to contain my excitement and so I ramble on about my favorite songs and asking about his. Must be the nerves talking. He doesn't say much at all beyond naming a few titles and remarking how brilliant they were live.

Clearly preoccupied with staring at my fingers which are still holding onto his shirt, he stops talking again. I'm equally lost for words.

Time seems to move in slow motion when his hand finds my wrist, and pulls me closer towards him. Our faces move closer together until he finally looks up at me again.

His eyes look almost black in the subdued light and we're now so near that I can feel his breath tickling my face. His scent is pleasant, like a rather masculine sort of cologne with a hint of beer mixed in. The effects of the few drinks I've had already are making it hard for me to focus but I know what I want, and I desperately hope he does too.

"You're making it very difficult for me to resist..." he says.

I see the same nerves I feel mirrored in his eyes momentarily. But instead of acting on them, he continues to stare deep into my soul.

"That was the idea..." I breathe.

Both of us are ready to go where our instincts might take us, still my mind plays tricks on me by announcing his idiot friends' return. I can hear the creepy one even if I don't know or care what he's saying. It's making me want to run and hide again, away from all interruptions.

He releases my wrist so I can I run both hands up his shoulders and around his neck. I hardly need to make any effort to get him to come closer, he already stood up right in front of me.

George is quite a bit taller than he looked sitting down. With me still perched on my bar stool and him standing, I can reach him perfectly. I run my fingers through his ponytail while our lips meet.

His arms find their way naturally around my back. The world around us disappears, taking any unwelcome other people away with it. My legs part as far as they'll go in this skirt to allow him closer. If his lips are anything to go by, he is the gentler type definitely. Or perhaps he just likes to start off that way.