Chapter 2
RYAN
She’s hot and funny. It doesn’t get better than that.
I shake my head, chuckling. “Cooper, you just get cuter every fucking minute.”
She buries her face in her hands. “Oh my God! Nothing about this is cute. Between the two of us, we should probably do this bar a favor and just leave.” She grins, laughing, and points a finger back and forth between us. “I mean, this—this is so bad. If you think any of it’s cute, there’s something seriously wrong with you.”
“Oh, something’s wrong with me?” I cock a brow, pointing to myself. “You’re the one referencing Bradley Cooper.”
She crumples up a napkin, tossing it at me. “And if you were normal, you would’ve bailed the second I mentioned him.” She folds her arms, eyeing me down. “And because you didn’t, that means you, my friend, are one of three things.” She stares at me, her dark brown eyes playful.
“Oh, yeah? And what are those?” I take a sip of my drink, amused.
“You’re either crazy,” she says, holding up one finger. “Drunk,” she adds, raising a second. “Or you haven’t gotten laid in a very long time.” She lifts a third finger, eyebrows raised with a smug, knowing look.
My eyes narrow, hoping she can’t see right through me because, God , I haven’t been laid in such a long time. And, yeah, I’d love to, but that wasn’t the reason I came over. I start to say something, but instead, I take another sip, buying myself a few extra seconds to figure out how to play this. I grab my chair and swing it around to the side of the table, bringing me closer—our knees almost touching. “Can’t a guy just wanna talk to a beautiful girl without an ulterior motive?”
She looks at me and scoffs. “I knew it,” she says confidently. “You’re trying to get laid.” She nudges my knee with hers.
I smother a laugh, biting my lip to keep it in. “Oh yeah? And what brings you to that conclusion?”
“It’s like a reverse psychology thing. If you were crazy or drunk, you’d say something to convince me otherwise. But you went with the typical ‘ I’m not trying to get laid ’ answer.” She shakes her head, rolling her eyes, but her smile doesn’t falter. “You men are all the same.”
Damn, she’s quick-witted, too.
I noticed her on my morning runs—of course I did, she’s hot as hell. But now? Being here, talking to her, she’s not just a hot girl I saw on the beach. She’s a hot girl with a great personality, and I’m having way too much fun. It’s been so damn long since I’ve felt this kind of pull toward someone. It’s like my mind is finally giving my heart the green light to consider… something. Whatever that “something” is.
But fuck, I’m dusty—like an old book that’s been sitting on the shelf for years. This whole thing—the flirting, the chemistry—is waking up a side of me that’s been buried for so damn long. I’m not sure what to even do with it.
I grin. “And what are all us men like, exactly?”
“Predictable,” she says matter-of-factly. “A little attention, a nice smile, buy us a drink, and you think you’ve got it made.”
I raise an eyebrow, chuckling at her boldness. “And you think I’m like that?”
She tilts her head, a playful challenge in her gaze. “I think you’re like the rest. Charming, confident, and a little too sure of yourself.”
“Sure of myself? Pretty sure I already confessed that I suck at this, remember?”
She raises her brows. “I think you’re better than you realize.”
Her words catch me off guard, and I find myself inching even closer, our knees touching now.
“You single?” I ask, wondering why I didn’t lead with that. I’m in way too deep for her to tell me otherwise.
She shifts in her seat, throwing me a teasing smile. “Are you?”
I hesitate, my thumb rubbing over the empty spot on my ring finger—a habit that’s hard to break. “Yeah,” I say, though the answer feels more complicated than it sounds. Not wanting her to press me further, I steer the conversation in a different direction. “Are you from here?”
“Sort of,” she says. “My dad lives here, so I spent most of my summers and holidays around Newport growing up. I visit a couple of times a year… What about you? Do you live here?”
“Nah. I’m here for work. Had a conference earlier in the week, but now I’m just enjoying the weekend. How long are you here for?”
“I’m not sure yet. I’ll probably stay a few more days and work remotely.”
“Oh? What do you do for work?”
“I’m an assistant project manager for a software development company. My job isn’t that exciting to talk about, but I enjoy it. It’s chill and laid-back.” She finishes the rest of her drink. “Are those people you work with?” She gestures toward the group I was sitting with earlier.
I nod in their direction, catching a few of them glancing our way. “Yeah, those are my coworkers. Most of them headed home today, but a few of us decided to stick around for the weekend.”
“Are you staying here?” she nods toward the hotel.
“Yep.”
“And what do you do?”
I take a sip of my beer. “I’m a Vice President of business development for a tech company. Isn’t that exciting?” I say sarcastically. “My job isn’t exactly thrilling to talk about either, but the work’s interesting, and I’m lucky to work with cool people.” We lock eyes for what feels like minutes, and before I can stop myself, the words spill out. “Jesus… you’re gorgeous. I’m surprised you haven’t been bombarded by guys all night.”
Damn. Did I actually just say that out loud? I’ve always been confident, but right now, I feel like I’m second-guessing every word. It’s been over a decade since I’ve looked at a woman like this, let alone said things like that out loud.
She grins. “Well, the night is still young. And, if you remember, I wasn’t here alone. I was with my sister… and then this hot guy scared her off.” She leans forward, almost whispering. “Who’s gonna hit on me with you around?”
I grin back. Maybe I suck at flirting, but I think she’s into it.
“Are you upset about that?”
“I was…” She pauses, letting the anticipation build between us. “I’m not anymore.”
“That’s good.” I let my eyes drift down her body—because, Jesus, she has a body . And yes, I’m undressing her in my mind. I can’t help it; I feel like a coyote on the hunt—starved and losing control. But then my eyes meet hers again, and something steadies in me, and it’s weird—how she makes me feel wild and steady at the same time.
“What are you doing tomorrow night?” I ask. “I’d love to take you to dinner… if you’re interested.” I have no idea what I’m doing, but I know I need more time with her before I leave.
She takes a breath and sits back casually in her chair, taking her sweet-ass time with her answer. “Look, I appreciate the offer,” she says carefully, “but I’m not really in a place to date.” She hesitates, her eyes traveling slowly down my body, a hint of a smile playing on her lips, stirring a slow burn of desire deep in my gut.
Her eyes eventually land back on mine, and she adds, “But if you’re looking for something with no strings attached… I might be game for that.”
My eyes widen. Does she mean a one-night stand? That’s not something I’d normally do—or would I? I used to be up for that. Coming over here, I wasn’t sure what I wanted or what to expect, but I guess for a guy from out of town, the best possible outcome would be this—sex with the hot girl, no strings attached. Damn, I’m hard just thinking about it. I definitely want her… even if I’m still figuring out exactly what that means.
But now that it’s on the table, I’m not sure that I want it to go down like that.
She’s completely caught me off guard.
“No strings attached? Tonight?” I pause, unsure. Jesus, is this what it’s like dating in your thirties? Women throwing themselves at you with no pretense? Shit, I can’t believe I’m even asking this, but I have to be sure. “You mean… sex, right?”
She laughs. “Let’s call a spade a spade, Ryan. You didn’t buy me a drink and come over here because you were curious about my job or my relationship status.”
That’s exactly why I came over here.
She leans in closer, a smirk on her lips. “And yeah, I mean sex.” She pauses, letting that sink in. “So, I’ll make you a deal: whenever you’re ready to leave,” her voice lowers to a whisper. “Just say the word.”
Holy shit.
My dick stiffens all the way, a full-on boner pressing against my jeans, and I’m stuck between pure need and contemplation, weighing the consequences. My eyes zero in on her boobs. Jesus, they’re big. And I’m so goddamn horny. When I finally tear my eyes away from them, I meet her gaze, and everything else fades. God, this is a different kind of hunger, one I haven’t felt in… forever. It’s raw and consuming. My pulse races as she holds my stare confidently. There's an electric charge between us—a chemistry so palpable it’s hard to ignore. Is that it? Or am I just so damn horny I’d feel this with anything that had tits and looked at me this way?
I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms, trying to play it cool. “Really?” I ask.
“Really,” she whispers, placing her hands on the edge of the chair, squeezing her tits together. She’s wearing a very low-cut shirt, but I force my eyes to stay on her face. My gaze slides to her lips instead—full, inviting, and I’m already imagining them on mine. Suddenly, my good intentions go out the window. I want to touch her, feel her skin, taste every inch of her.
“Okay…” I say with hesitation, because what do I say to that? I take a breath. Focus, man . Every part of me wants to make a move, but I also don’t want to be a dick. I want this to be more than just… that.
I clear my throat, leaning back a little, buying myself a second. “But let’s get to know each other a bit first—see where the night takes us.”
She cocks a brow, unamused.
I continue. “So… if you’re only here visiting your dad, where are you from?” I try to play it casual, but my brain’s on overdrive just looking at her.
Her lips curl into a teasing smile. “Are you really trying to make small talk right now?”
“I mean…” I fumble for words, heat creeping up my neck. “Yeah, I just thought—”
“Ryan… I’m not interested in small talk tonight.” Her hand slides over my knee, her touch electrifying. Her fingers caress the fabric, pulling my concentration away from the thoughts in my head to the pulsing in my dick. “Look, I’m really attracted to you, but… we’re both from out of town. You seem like a great guy, but there’s no point in getting to know each other when nothing can come from it. I’m not interested in a long-distance get-to-know-you type of thing.” Her thumb circles my inner thigh, branding the skin beneath my pants.
I swallow, struggling to form words. She makes a valid point. There’s really no purpose in getting to know each other, or me taking her out—not when I leave in two days regardless.
She pulls her hand back, running it through her hair. “So… do you want to get out of here?”
I stare at her for a moment. “Yeah,” I say, the words slipping out as my cock runs the show. “Yeah, let’s get out of here.”
Jesus Christ . Did I just commit to having sex with her? I’m so hard I can’t think straight, let alone be rational. This isn’t what I came over here for, but now all I can think about is her—a naked her . She’s the kind of beautiful that’s hard to ignore—intimidating, even. I didn’t expect this, but fuck it. I’d be an idiot to say no.
* * * * * ? * * * * *
The elevator dings and opens. I step inside, and before the doors can close, Cooper’s on me. Her arms wrap around my neck, and her lips crash against mine, hungry and urgent. My back hits the wall, and I fumble for the button, her lips never letting up. I recover quickly, gripping her waist and kissing her back just as fiercely. The button for the seventh floor lights up, but I’m already lost in her.
Her lips are plump and incredibly soft. Her tongue toys with mine. The warmth of her lips mixed with the lingering taste of tequila is intoxicating. I pull her closer until there’s no space left between us. The elevator hums in the background. Her hands find my hair, tugging just hard enough to make me groan against her mouth. I don’t think; I just react. I press her back against the elevator wall, feeling her body arch into mine, her moan vibrating against my lips. God, she feels incredible.
My dick presses against the inseam of my pants, hard and throbbing, ready to go—having been neglected for the past few months, with only the occasional jerk-off by yours truly. Cooper’s hand travels down, finding its way to my boner. She rubs it and gives it a squeeze through my pants, and I groan loudly.
The elevator stops at thirteen, dinging, the doors opening. I pull away from her, trying to play it cool as an elderly couple steps in. Jesus, we’re a mess. I glance at her, and she busts up laughing, which makes me laugh too. I try to smother it, knowing we should be respectful. Cooper buries her face in the crook of my arm, shaking with suppressed laughter. I stroke her back. “Shh,” I say softly, but I’m still grinning like an idiot. I haven’t had this kind of fun in a long time—almost forgot what it feels like to lose myself in the moment. It feels good.
The seventh floor cannot come soon enough. It feels like we’re moving in slow motion, every second dragging. Finally, the doors open to my floor. I grab her hand and lead her down the hallway to my hotel room. Our pace quickens. She’s urgent, and I’m right there with her, my pulse hammering in my ears.
We reach my door and I fumble with my key card, adrenaline coursing through me. My hands shake a little—nerves, excitement; I’m not even sure. She’s pressed up against my side, her fingers running up and down my arm, driving me crazy. I finally get the door open, and we stumble inside, the door slamming shut behind us.
There’s no pause, no hesitation. She’s on me again, her mouth finding mine in a rush of urgency and need. She’s a great kisser, but a thought cuts through the haze. Is she too drunk for this? I don’t want to be the asshole who takes advantage. I pull back slightly, meeting her eyes, needing to make sure she’s fully aware of what’s happening.
“Hey,” I say between kisses. “How drunk are you?” It feels stupid asking, but I have to know.
She pulls back, scowling. “What?”
“I just… You’ve been drinking. I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
Her hand finds my cock again, and I suck in a breath.
“Does it look like you’re taking advantage of me?” she asks.
“Maybe we should just slow down a bit… talk for a while,” I say between shallow breaths, barely able to think straight. “Let the alcohol wear off a little.” Jesus, I’m being my own cockblocker here. What am I doing?
“Talk? You wanna talk?” She sighs, exasperated. “There’s a reason people do this when they’ve been drinking, Ryan. A reason you pounded that last beer. I’m not here to talk… I know what I’m doing.”
She steps back, her eyes locked on mine, then slowly crosses her arms and grabs the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head. Tossing it aside, she undoes her pants and slides them down to her ankles, stepping out of them smoothly. She stands there in just a bra and panties, her eyes never leaving mine. Dark, inviting. She bites her bottom lip, watching me closely. “Do I need to keep going, Ryan, or are you going to man up and do the rest?”
My throat goes dry as I take her in. I’m speechless. Goddamn, her body . It’s better than I imagined. Her skin is fair, but lightly tanned. Her tits are spilling out of her bra, and Jesus Christ, it’s hard to look away. Curvy as hell—tiny waist, round ass, everything that makes a guy lose his mind. I can’t differentiate between the aching throb of my dick and my heart pounding in my chest. Fuck . I want to run my hands and mouth over every part of her. My breath quickens, my whole body taut with anticipation.
She interrupts my thoughts. “Your turn, Ryan.” She gives me a pointed look. “Take your shirt off. Let’s see that six-pack,” she says in a quiet, seductive voice.
I do as I’m told, pulling my shirt over my head and tossing it aside.
She smiles. “Damn,” she says softly. “Pants too.” Her eyes rake over me, and a shiver runs down my spine—her demands making me harder.
Get it together. She’s not here to fuck a guy who needs directions. I lock eyes with her, confidence flooding back. I slowly step toward her, the intensity between us building with every breath. My fingers find the button of my pants, popping it open, drawing her eyes lower. My hand wraps around hers, guiding it to my zipper.
Our eyes lock as her fingers slide down, teasing the zipper open. “You want this?” I ask, my voice low and rough, already knowing the answer—the tension between us thick as mud.
She doesn’t answer with words. Instead, her hand brushes over me, igniting the fire that’s been simmering since the moment I saw her. I press her hard against the wall, my cock already begging for more.
My lips meet hers with a desperation. And it feels too damn good to stop—too good to be touched, wanted, and lusted after.
Her hands glide up my chest, the heat of her touch searing through me, and I instinctively grip her ass, firm and soft beneath my palms, and press my throbbing cock against her—right where she wants it. She gasps, and my pulse kicks into overdrive. One of her hands grips the back of my neck while the other toys with the waistband of my boxer briefs, dipping her fingers in just enough to drive me mad.
I graze my hand up her side, hesitating just below her chest. I’m about to touch another woman’s tits. For a second, I’m nervous—hell, I even feel a little guilty—but I shove it down and keep going. My hand moves over one of her boobs, giving it a gentle squeeze, my thumb brushing against the soft skin. She moans into my mouth, and I’m a fucking goner. They’re incredible. Large, soft—a perfect handful, maybe more. Any lingering doubts fly out the window as she arches into me with pure need.
Inhibitions gone, I grip her hips hard, taking control. Tonight, she’ll learn exactly how good a night with Ryan Brooks can be. No holding back. I’m going to make her beg, scream my name, and come so hard she’ll remember this night for years… and so will I. You never forget the first night with someone new—someone who's not her.