One Night Stand: Ten Year Anniversary Edition

One Night Stand: Ten Year Anniversary Edition

By J. S. Cooper

Prologue

“You can still call me Mr. Tongue if you want,” he whispered. His smooth voice tickled my eardrum, and he lightly nibbled on my earlobe.

I felt like I was going to explode by the directness of his actions and words. I was not used to men like this. I didn’t hate it, but I was definitely taken aback by the entire situation.

I shifted back quickly, and he grinned at me in that devastatingly sexy way that I was sure he knew drove women crazy. Then he licked his lips slowly and deliberately, the tip of his tongue gliding back and forth, reminding me of the night we’d spent together—the sinful night that I’d never forget.

Only he wasn’t supposed to be here. In my parents’ house.

Sitting on their off-white linen couch. The couch I’d watched TV on for years.

The one my mom had spent twenty-five hundred dollars on behind my father’s back, which almost broke up my parents’ marriage when the credit card bill arrived.

He wasn’t supposed to be talking to my parents.

He wasn’t supposed to be looking so sexy. I didn’t even know his name.

One-night stands were meant to be fun. They were meant to be exciting.

They were meant to be adventurous experiments in lovemaking that didn’t follow you home.

I didn’t consider myself a whore or cheap.

I mean, I had standards for the guys I wanted to date and hook up with.

I even had a chart of things I looked for in a guy.

I didn’t just drop my panties for any guy with a cute smile, handsome face, and a wallet full of cash.

I’d slept with men who had no cash, missing teeth (found out afterwards), and even one who was prematurely balding, but they were all boyfriends.

Yes, I had questionable taste in men, but that was a story for another day.

One I wasn’t particularly proud of. In fact, I still cringed when I remembered the guy with the missing teeth going down on me. It’d made for an unusual experience.

You might not believe that I had standards now.

Especially considering how quickly I’d dropped my panties for the mysterious stranger at my friend’s wedding.

The mysterious stranger who was now standing in front of me.

You might want to believe that I dropped my panties for any man who asked, but trust me, I didn’t.

Mr. Tongue was the exception to the rule.

I’d dropped my panties without a second thought when I saw him.

Well, actually that was a bit of a lie. I hadn’t exactly dropped my panties. He had taken them off with his teeth. His cute, perfectly straight, sharp pearly-white teeth. Oh shit, my body could still remember his teeth grazing my skin as he pulled my white lace panties off.

Honestly, in that moment, I couldn’t stop him or myself. It was one of those magical moments you saw in movies. The chemistry was perfect between us, our bodies were on fire, and all I could think about was him and his mouth, even though we were just one room away from a packed church.

I’d never thought anything like that would happen to me.

I got caught up in the moment. I mean, it wasn’t every day you made eye contact with a green-eyed stranger, and he led you to a back room in a church—God, forgive me.

It wasn’t every day that you met a man—a gorgeous, sexy, virile stud of a man.

And, okay, yes, he was slightly obnoxious, but I didn’t care.

It wasn’t every day a hot stud got you on the floor, with your dress riding up around your waist, as he pulled your panties off with his teeth.

And let’s not forget his tongue. Oh my God, his tongue had done things to me that I cannot repeat.

Things I hadn’t even known existed. Like multiple orgasms in minutes—yes, I said minutes.

Like one right after the other. And all from his tongue—pink, long, and extremely flexible.

Who knew tongues could be so flexible? Not me.

And of course, he knew he’d blown my world.

The grin on his face and the glint in his eye had told me that he knew he was the shit. Smug, cocky bastard.

As I stared at him in front of me, I knew he could still remember that day as well. I could see it in the glint in his eye as I tried to keep my breathing under control.

What had he done to me then, and why was he here now?

I’d only been slightly embarrassed as I climaxed on his mouth.

The way he eagerly licked up my juices from his lips made me feel slightly dirty.

I didn’t care though. I was still too busy trying to catch my breath as I jumped up from the ground and pulled my dress back down.

I started panicking as I heard the organist playing “Here Comes the Bride.” I had to get back to my pew in the church quickly, and that also meant panty-less, as he didn’t want to give them back—and, yeah, I thought that was kind of hot.

I had no shame. I walked back into the church that day, feeling like a harlot.

I’d let some nameless, random smug man go down on me, right before a wedding. Who did that?

That wasn’t even the worst of it. I went home with him too.

And when I said went home, I meant to his hotel suite.

His very expensive, very impressive suite at the Marriott downtown—he was most likely paying my month’s rent for a long weekend.

We went to his hotel room, and this time, he used more than his tongue.

And this time, I did more than lie back with my legs in the air and his face firmly planted down smack-bang in the center.

It was a night of fireworks. A night of explosive sex that blew my world and everything that I’d thought I knew about sex.

I was ruined for the next boring man I dated. No longer would I be happy with quick foreplay and some push-in-and-out missionary action. I’d never had sex so hot, and I supposed that was the beauty of one-night stands. You hooked up and did all the things you were too self-conscious to normally do.

Neither one of us had expectations. We didn’t even exchange names.

And that was why I left early the next morning and hurried out of the room, head held as high as I could as I did the walk of shame through the hotel lobby, my smeared mascara and messy hair telling my tale to everyone who viewed me.

I didn’t care though. I’d experienced the best sex of my life and with the hottest man I’d ever met. That did something to your ego.

I felt like a million dollars, and I was pretty sure I’d rocked his world as well.

He wouldn’t forget me anytime soon, especially since he would have scratch and bite marks to remind him of our night for the next few days.

It didn’t even matter that he’d seemed like he could be an arrogant asshole from the way he’d bossed me around in bed.

I even kind of liked his take-charge alphaness.

It was good in the bedroom, though I knew, in everyday life, he’d annoy me, but that didn’t matter.

He wasn’t someone I’d ever have to deal with again.

I was wrong though. Because you know how life went.

When you were riding high and feeling like you were on top of everything, something always happened to bring you back down to earth.

That was what happened to me this weekend when I came home to visit my parents.

The weekend after the wedding when I hooked up with Mr. Tongue.

Yes, my one-night stand didn’t seem so hot and innocent when I turned up at my parents’ house and saw him sitting on their couch.

Mr. Miracle Tongue—as I’d named him—had nearly given me a heart attack when I saw him sitting there in front of me, on my parents’ couch, sipping Earl Grey tea.

The moment he looked up at me, his green eyes laughing, was a moment I’d never forget. It was the moment that stopped my heart for what seemed like minutes. It was the moment that reminded me why I’d never had a one-night stand before.

I stood there for a few seconds. Then he stood up and walked over to me, a huge grin on his face.

“Hello,” he said and grinned at me as he reached his hand out to me. “Nice to meet you. My name is Xander.”

“I’m Liv,” I said softly, my face red as I shook his hand.

“Nice to meet you, Liv.” His eyes teased me as my parents smiled graciously, watching us. Not knowing that this was not the first time that we’d met. They would kill me if they knew how I knew this man. However, I’d die before I ever told them. I’d take this secret to my grave.

“You too.” I swallowed hard. I felt like my face was cherry red, but there was no way I could look in a mirror to check it out.

What was he doing here? The look on his way too handsome face told me that he was very much enjoying my discomfort.

“Oh, you have something on your ear.” He leaned forward and brushed something off of my ear as he whispered quietly, “Now I have a name to put to the face when I think about our night together.”

I felt the tip of his tongue on my earlobe. I pulled back in shock and glanced at him and then at my parents.

“What are you doing here?” I asked softly, needing an answer.

This was too much of a coincidence. Of course, the answer wasn’t the fairy-tale answer that I was secretly hoping for.

He hadn’t tracked me down because he couldn’t forget me.

He hadn’t come to woo me. No, of course, my journey into the land of one-night stands couldn’t be so perfect.

Of course, my journey into one-night stands ended up being one complicated mess.

I should have known that, for me, it wouldn’t be one night of fun.

I should have known that one-night stands never ended after one night and they always turned into a whole bunch of trouble.

“What would you like me to be doing here?” He laughed and ran his firm hand through his jet-black hair. Hair I knew was silky-soft to the touch. Hair that I’d grabbed and pulled.

I bit my lower lip as I stood there in shock.

If I’d known the reason why he was there, I would have run away. If I’d known who he was at the wedding, I would have said no. But of course, I wasn’t privy to that information. So, of course, my one-night stand had changed everything I thought I knew about my life and who I was.

My one-night stand had a name. And that was Xander James. And Xander James was about to make everything in my life a whole lot more complicated. Because Xander James was a lot more man than just being Mr. Tongue. Xander James was a man who took what he wanted, when he wanted it, no questions asked.

And now that he’d seen me again, I was at the top of his list of wants.

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