One Night That Changed Her Life. Emily ForbesЧитать онлайн книгу.
could feel it. She knew he wanted it too. She could feel the desire coming off him in waves and he was just what she needed. Taking a gorgeous man to bed ticked all the right boxes and it was a habit she had no intention of breaking. Okay, so she didn’t do it all that often—she could barely remember the last time she’d even had sex—but a one-night stand was the perfect way to scratch an itch.
She needed sex but she didn’t need a relationship. One night was enough. There was no need to go into details, no need to reveal anything personal about herself. She didn’t consider sex to be personal—sex with a stranger couldn’t hurt her, not as much as revealing her fears. She could happily share her body but not her mind. Her body was going to let her down one day; she owed it nothing.
Sarah nodded and smiled. She lent forwards and kissed Brighde’s cheek. ‘Have fun,’ she whispered into Brighde’s ear.
Brighde watched her go and when she turned back to Xavier she found he’d moved closer to her. His thigh pressed against her knee. She shifted forward on the bar stool, sliding her knee against the inside of his thigh. Their intentions were perfectly clear.
She looked up at him to find his dark eyes watching her. Her reaction was immediate and primal and she could feel her nipples jutting against the cool silk of her dress. She saw his gaze drop lower, saw him take in the peak of her nipples against the fabric of her dress. When he looked back at her his gaze was so intense and full of heat she thought she might melt into a pool of desire at his feet.
‘Can I offer you a nightcap upstairs?’ he asked as he lifted her glass from her hand. He reached across her to put her half-finished drink on the bar and the back of his hand brushed across her chest, grazing her nipple. Brighde felt as if she might climax on the spot.
She swallowed and nodded as she licked her lips. Despite everything she’d had to drink her throat was suddenly dry and she was having difficulty breathing, let alone speaking. She was experienced in the art of seduction but not in relationships. She didn’t communicate with words. She sought the comfort of sex when she needed it, emotionally or physically. Tonight she needed it to distract herself. It had worked in the past and, looking at Xavier, she was sure it would work again today.
He took her hand and helped her off the stool. Once again her legs had turned to jelly but she barely noticed this time. She was too aware of the tingling in her belly and the intense weight of expectation and excitement in her groin.
Xavier held the door for her as she stepped into the lift. The lift had four other occupants and Brighde stood slightly apart from Xavier. She needed to keep some distance, otherwise she was in danger of throwing herself at him in front of a crowd. He pushed the button for the sixteenth floor while she leant against the wall of the lift; she needed something solid to keep her upright. She wanted to lean against Xavier but didn’t dare while they had company. She didn’t trust herself to maintain a sense of decency.
‘What floor would you like?’ one of the other passengers asked her.
‘Sixteen,’ she replied as she tried to avoid eye contact with Xavier, the gorgeous stranger.
Over the heads and shoulders of the other people sharing their lift she was totally aware of him. The man exuded sex appeal. Tall, dark, handsome and well-built. His dark hair was thick and just long enough to show the wave through it. There was no grey in his hair but a hint of it lightened the tidy stubble that darkened his jaw. He was well-groomed but definitely all man and he was watching her with his dark chocolate eyes as she studied him. His eyes were slightly hooded; he reminded her of a predatory bird. She felt like a sparrow in the piercing gaze of a falcon and she knew she was firmly in his sights.
The lift stopped several times but it wasn’t until the fourteenth floor, when the doors closed, that it was finally just the two of them who remained.
She continued to study him. His hands were large, as were his feet. Even his slightly hooked nose was on the generous side. Brighde was twenty-eight years old and she was a midwife, she knew anatomy, and even though it was purported to be an old wives’ tale she knew you could judge the size of a man’s appendage by the size of his hands, feet and nose. She swallowed. She wouldn’t have to wait long to test her theory.
His eyes hadn’t strayed from hers and she knew he was visualising what was under her dress, just as she was imagining what she might find under his clothes. The idea gave her a rush of lust and she stepped a little closer as the lift doors eased shut.
He smelt fantastic. She was tempted to press the emergency stop button but she didn’t want to be surprised by a maintenance team coming to rescue them. She could wait two more floors. Maybe.
She was aware of her breathing now. Heavy and laboured.
He reached out one hand and put it on her waist and she could feel the heat of his fingers through the thin silk fabric of her dress. He pulled her closer until she was pressed against him. She could feel his desire now, a thick, hard bulge pressing into her. She tipped her head back and looked up at him as the lift stopped and the doors slid open.
SHE LEANT AGAINST HIM, not trusting her legs to support her, as he led her to his room. He swiped the electronic key card over the door and held it open for her.
The room was a carbon copy of hers, with the exception of the bed. She was sharing with Sarah so their room had twin beds. Xavier had a room to himself, and a king-size bed that she intended to put to good use dominated the space.
She stepped inside and somehow managed to wait until he stepped in behind her and closed the door. She turned around and his mouth was instantly on hers. His hands at her back.
She wasn’t interested in talking. She didn’t want to know anything about him. She didn’t need to know anything about him. His voice was deep and velvety smooth and it did funny things to her insides but she didn’t need to hear it.
She parted her lips and his tongue delved deeper, exploring her, tasting her.
She pulled his shirt free from his trousers and undid the buttons, running her hands over his chest. The muscles were firm and warm under her fingers and dark hair covered his skin.
She could feel wetness pooling between her thighs. She pressed against him, wanting to feel the thickness of his erection, knowing she wouldn’t be disappointed.
She closed her eyes and the room started to spin. Just a little, just enough for her to recognise she’d had more to drink than she’d realised. Drunk and emotional. That wasn’t a good combination. But she wasn’t so drunk that she didn’t know exactly where she was and what she was doing, she thought as she felt his hand slide up under her dress. She opened her eyes as his hand cupped her buttock. He lifted her off her feet and continued to deepen the kiss as she wrapped her legs around his waist.
He carried her to the bed. She knelt on the edge as he opened the bedside drawer and retrieved a little foil packet. He put it on the bedside table, watching her as he let it go. His intentions were clear and Brighde knew he was asking for her acquiescence. In reply she reached up and slid his jacket and shirt from his shoulders, letting them drop to the floor. She wasn’t changing her mind now.
He kicked off his shoes as she fumbled with the buckle of his belt. Finally, the belt came loose and she undid his trousers, letting him step out of them.
She swallowed as she looked at him standing before her. He pushed his boxer shorts off his hips and his erection sprang free.
He was even more impressive than she’d imagined. Thick and proud. He was glorious.
He reached for her again and she lifted her arms above her head as he whipped her dress from her body. She wasn’t wearing a bra; she was as naked as he was save for her knickers and heels.
She stood up, brushing her breasts across his chest, and watched in fascination as his chocolate-brown eyes darkened further.
She spun him around, pushing him lightly