ONE NIGHT STAND (Short Story) R18+

Chapter 1: I KNOW THAT STRANGER!

If you're into Filipino language gangster-thing stories, please check out She's Inlove With Her Bully. You can find it in my timeline. Thank you!

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         You know those days when your own life feels too dull and you just wanna get laid by a hot stranger? I'm having one of those days. Most times, I ignore the urge and move on, but today, I'm indulging myself.

The guy who just walked into the bar is drop dead sexy. I'm not the only woman in the room to notice him; two woman in business dress at a table close nearby look his way too, and the brunette waitress collecting glasses pauses to give him the once over, and then the twice over. I don't blame her. He's not a just a regular hot. Lots of guys are that, but this one has that special something that turns him into an eye magnet. You know what I mean, right? He isn't necessarily the most classically handsome man in the room, and not usually the loudest, but he's always the one you'd pick to take home, if you happened to be in the mood to pick a stranger up in a bar.

Which, as luck would have it, I am.

This isn't something I do often; very rarely in fact, once a year at most. I kicked work to the curb an hour ago and headed here to the hotel bar I always choose for this, because it's never packed out and rowdy but always busy enough to not feel conspiciuous drinking alone. I'm wearing black capri pants and my favorite sheer purple blouse and skinny chiffon scarf, a classy outfit that suggests work, or maybe dinner. I could be perched on this barstool waiting for the first date who doesn't show or maybe meeting a friend who just texted me to cancel. Easy cover stories I can explain away with a wry smile and a slight shrug.

He hasn't looked my way yet. That's okay. It gives me time to make my assessment, to decide if he's definitely the one. The bar is set out in a square and, for now, he's taken a seat on the opposite side.

I nurse my almost done with martini, sliding the olive from its stick with my teeth as I look over him unobserved. He's not wearing a suit; his blond hair is covering almost all of his forehead and has the kind of complexion that comes from spending days in the frozen area. He orders easily and calmly at the counter as if he's already used to it. Seconds later, he drinks deeply from the tall beer glass, as if his day has been every bit as long as mine. He closes his eyes as he swallows, as if beer is his religion and he's paying it due respect. I know that feeling well, and it reminds me that my glass is empty.

"Another?"

"You read my mind", I smile at the server. He can't be more than eighteen or nineteen, but he mixes a decent martini and he's attentive enough to notice when I need re-fuelling. Attention to detail is a trick most guys should learn early; it goes a long way with a girl if he can remember how she takes her coffee and whether she prefers Pinot or Chablis. Not that I'm considering parking Mr.CuteHair on the sub bench in favor of bar guy; give him five more years and maybe I'll look again. I like a man who has enough experience to know how to handle me, and my instincts tells me that my one night stand is sitting at the bar rather than working it.

"Give him another too", I nod discreetly towards the guy as I murmur to the server when he returns with my freshly mixed martini. For a second, he looks surprised, a slight lift of his brows, then he nods once and does as I've requested without another word.

I look down as he replaces the guy's epty glass with a full one. Eye contact at this point would be too direct on my part. I don't want to come over as pushy, or for everyone else in the place to know what's happening, at least not until I'm certain how he's going to respond. A public knock-back is something I can well do without on a Friday night.

For distraction, I check my phone and smile at a couple of new texts, and when I look up again, he's not on his stool anymore. Crap. Was I too obvious? Did I scare him away?

I glance casually around the room, trying not to blatantly search for him.

"Thank you".

The voice right behind me, and I don't need to turn to know it's him.

"Don't tell me your name", he says, and his arm slides out to place his beer on the bar beside my martini. His n' Hers. It looks a damn sight better than a pair of monogrammed bath towels.

A tiny shudder of pleasure strokes feather light down my spine. His voice is rich with quiet confidence, and his choice of words tells me that he and I are cut from the same cloth this evening.

"It's Rita", I lie, and he laughs softly as he slides onto the bar stool beside mine.

"It's not Rita. That's the name of the female lead of Blood", he says.

I play with the stem of the glass. "Laura?"

His brows draw down. He studies my face, and it gives me the opportunity to notice his black eyes. He's an odd mix of outdoor healthy and darkly sexy; looking at him spark something low in my belly. I recognize it as pure, absolute lust.

"You look like a Holly", he names me. I stiffle a laugh and answer back.

"And you must be...Adam."

Those dark eyes glitter. "Pleased to meet you."

I incline my head and consider him over the rim of my glass.

Close up, I can see the freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose and the laughter lines around his mouth when he smiles. They put him late twenties, twenty five at most, which makes us just about equal. He might have a couple of years on me at best; I'm twenty-four, almost half-way to fifty, and I plan on making every year between here and there count. They say women peak around my age, so this guy should feel goddamn honoured to have my prime piece of real estate ass sending him free beer and an invitation for more. I feel a little like Thelma picking up Brad Pitt in a motel. Or was it Louise? No matter. The point is that I want to be with him tonight but I don't know why I am suddenly getting scared and nervous. And from the looks of it, this guy seems decent and proper, and incapable to have a one-night stand with just anyone.

"So Adam, Are you in town for business or pleasure?"

"Business up to now", he says, and his hand brushes mine on the bar as we both place our glasses down at the same time. "Pleasure from time to time".

I swallow and glancing away. I catch teh suited up business women eyeing Adam from behind; teh look they give me is laced with envy. So ladies, go cast your nets somewhere else. This fish is totally on my hook but I'm not taking home with me. I was done putting up with him for the past years.

"Is that right?", I flash him my smile.

He lays his hand on my knee, firm and massaging. "Want to know a secret, Holly?"

"As long as it's not your address or phone number", I say.

He leans in and pulls my stool closer to his, and his eyes tells me he understands and isn't in the least offended. "I don't want your Saturday nights or dinner with your folks, either. Just tonight."

The bar tender is close enough to catch his words and I see his eyebrows hit his gelled fringe. Watch and learn, boy, because there's a master-class in process here. I'm turned on, hot from the inside out by such clearly laid out intent. I have a couple of options here. Do I play it cool or put my cards on the table? I didn't stay away from him for us to do this. Oh, what the hell. I never much liked playing it cool anyway.

"Tonight?". I look at my watch. "It's still pretty early. That gives us a fair few hours until the morning."

His arm hooks around my waist and pulls me flush against him, and he pushes his other hand into my hair. Slithering to my feet, I end up between his spread, jean clad thighs and wind my arms around his neck.

"I'm done talking", he whispers, and then lowers his mouth to mine. Oh.My.Fucking.God.

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