Loose End: A One Night Stand Prequal Novella

5. June

FIVE

I’m nervous.I’m excited.

I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing. I’m well out of my league, no question. A couple hours ago I was getting ready to marry a man that was—okay, fine, he was super boring. Well, boring until I walked in on his extracurricular activities. And now? Now, I have a gorgeous mountain of a man who could potentially give me those multiple orgasms that I always thought were a myth.

Unless of course, he’s a big fat liar and can’t even deliver a small envelope.

The key card shakes in my hand as I pull it from a side pocket within my gigantic purse and bring it toward the door. The weight of tonight and what it could be, the potential freedom this could let me feel, sends my stomach plummeting to the ground. I’ve never had a one-night stand or a casual relationship. My experience is limited to Paul. We lost our virginity to each other at twenty-one.

I thought saving myself for him was romantic, but now I realize it was just sad. I wasted a lot of time with our relationship.

“I know everyone says this, but I’ve really never done this before.”

He lays his hand over mine, sending tingles up my arm and zipping down my spine. His fingers are rough and calloused. Manly. Fingers I want all over my body. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

Simple words, at least in execution, but they mean everything.

He’s giving me the reins, letting me call the shots, and that makes me trust him. It might be stupid since I just met the man, but he puts me at ease. More importantly, he’s taking my mind off of things that I don’t want to deal with.

At least not tonight.

I can deal with betrayal and disappointment and the damage to my self-esteem next week, after a nice long—hopefully orgasm-filled—weekend. After I’ve gotten drunk at least once and cried my eyeballs out, then I’ll be ready to deal with my family. And then I guess, I’ll be going back to North Carolina to move out of Paul’s apartment, returning all the wedding gifts, and finishing my Bachelor’s degree. Maybe, I can figure out what I want to do with the rest of my life and who I want to be instead of just dedicating my life to my future husband.

Wouldn’t that be nice.

His hand skates down my back, his fingers soft, his touch light. “Don’t worry, Princess. If you’ll let me, I’ll take care of you. I’ll give you whatever you need.”

The tingles are back, this time in my clit. My poor neglected clit that is in desperate need of his rough hands. His mouth. His…everything.

I nod, at a loss for words, and slip the key card through the slot. After the card reader beeps and the light turns green, I push open the door and lead us inside. The room is spacious with a king size bed in the middle, a large, jetted tub to the left, a long dresser with a mirror fastened to the wall behind it and a couple of oversized recliners on the other side of the space. I toss my purse on the bed and turn back toward him.

His hands are in his front pockets, he’s rocking back and forth on his heels and he’s watching me.

His brows raise and his lips twitch as he takes a few steps forward and stops a few inches away. “Turn around, Princess.”

Before I can open my mouth to ask why, he places a finger against my lips. Instead of protesting, I give him a quizzical look and slowly turn around while my stomach flip flops.

I’ve never had anyone tell me what to do in the bedroom. I think I like it.

His hands rest on my shoulders, they’re surprisingly gentle as his thumbs massage the back of my neck. I lean into his touch and my eyelids flutter closed. He’s barely touched me and it”s already so good.

“Let”s do something about this hair,” he whispers in my ear, his warm breath caressing my cheek.

A shiver runs through my body and my heart races, beating in my chest and threatening to break through my ribs. His fingers push through my hair, and he pulls the first pin, letting a curl tumble down my neck.

It’s such a simple action, but one that leaves me feeling vulnerable, exposed. There’s an intimacy here I wasn’t expecting.

Pin by pin, he pulls them out, tossing them in a pile on the nightstand. He unbraids the tight coils, raking his fingers through the strands. When the last pin hits the bed, he sweeps my hair to one side and places a gentle kiss on my neck, his lips gliding down the curve and across my shoulder.

“That’s better,” He murmurs against my skin.

“You’re very good at that.”

“My, uh…” He trails off, taking a step away from me. He’s quiet for a few beats and I’m certain he’s not going to answer until he takes a deep breath. “My mom has MS. Sometimes she wouldn’t be able to use one or both arms so I would help her with her hair. It was a simple thing, but something I could do to make her life easier.”

It’s right there on the tip of my tongue to tell him how sorry I am, and while I know nothing about this man, I don’t think he’s one to want pity. Instead, I give him a piece of myself. “My mom wasn’t necessarily the maternal type. She worked a lot and after my parents divorced, my dad wasn’t around much. I was on my own a lot and ended up taking care of my three younger sisters.”

“So you take care of everyone else.” His lips return to my neck and I barely hold back a moan. “But then who takes care of you?”

“I guess no one really has.”

His fingers brush across my shoulder before they work their way down my back, unfastening the back of my dress. “That ends tonight, Princess.”

Where the heck did this man come from? Surely, no place on Earth or at least nowhere I’ve ever been. But the larger question is, do they make more? Not that I want another man right now, I’m asking for future June. A June who’s figured out her life and is happy with herself and what she’s doing. A June who’s ready to trust again.

As my dress loosens in the back, I cross my arms and hold it to my front. The tips of his fingers brush down my spine and stop at my lower back. My heart lodges in my throat and my legs tremble. He doesn’t rip it off my body; he doesn’t make any sounds of exasperation. He simply waits. Even though he has the power to do anything he wants.

Just when I don’t think I can take it anymore, when I think my heart may thump out of my chest, I loosen my grip and let the dress slide down my body.

“Fuck.”