The One That I Want. Michelle Monkou

The One That I Want - Michelle  Monkou


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agenda, but she hadn’t expected her evening to turn into a night of interesting diversions.

      Not only didn’t she expect to run into the missing heir from the Meadows family tree at the bar, not that she’d been on the lookout, but her imagination could have never come up with this end result.

      Now she could barely breathe as they devoured each other. Her arms clasped tighter around his shoulders. She sucked in gulps of air while his lips roughly ravished hers.

      “You’re freaking delicious,” she whispered. Delicious to taste, see, smell. She inhaled the masculine notes of his cologne.

      “Likewise, my knight to the rescue.” His deep, rumbly voice stroked in all the right places.

      Hungry and ready, she held on and wrapped her legs around his hips. Her head was buried against his neck, along his cheek, until her mouth reconnected again to his sweet desperation.

      The more they kissed, the more she didn’t want it to end. All of this, all of him, felt right and beautiful. She pressed her body against his, holding on, succumbing to his kisses peppering her chest.

      Her eyes fluttered open as she sank onto his bed.

      He loomed over her, out of breath, wearing his shy smile that had knocked her off balance when she’d first seen him at the bar.

      His eyes couldn’t mask his feelings, though. They communicated on full blast with what turned him on, turned him off, or what left him pensive, such as when he was onstage with the rest of the Meadowses. His deep brown eyes surely served as his soul’s windows.

      “So what now?” she asked in a deliberate offhand manner.

      He sucked on her thumb that still lingered on the cushiony softness of his lips. Her desire shot through her body and pooled between her legs like a hungry snake coiling and ready to be satisfied.

      “I don’t do one-night stands.” His hand cupped her breast, taking possession. Under the continuous stroke of his thumb, her sensitive nipple perked against the attention.

      “Neither do I.” She licked her lips, hoping for another serving of his tongue to sweep hers into a sexy tango.

      “Good. We’re in agreement.” His hand slid up her dress and pulled her thong down her legs before he tossed it aside.

      “Just make sure that it’s not a one-nighter.” She eyed the red thong hanging off the lampshade next to the bed. “I’ll definitely need a repeat of you,” she said, almost as if giving herself a necessary reminder.

      His hands slid under her body and worked the zipper down her back.

      “You’ll have to peel me out of this outfit.” She giggled as she remembered how she’d shimmied in place to get dressed.

      “Looking forward to it,” he said. His fingers teased her skin as he unwrapped the dress from around her body.

      Goose bumps prickled her arms with anticipation and as reward for the casual brush of his hands around her waist and along her hips.

      Strong, yet gentle, his fingertip traced symbols of infinity along her flesh. She hoped he never stopped. Her moans partnered with her body, which was writhing under the attention. Pleasurable shivers shimmied through her.

      “Getting you out of my system may take a little while.” Laxmi couldn’t help confessing her inner thoughts to this man.

      “Same here.” He kissed the edge of her shoulder where a monarch-butterfly tattoo imprinted her skin. The colorful charm served her well as a reminder of having faith after her darkest days.

      “Wasn’t supposed to happen this way,” she whispered, giving voice to the argument within her.

      His focused expression softened with a hint of a smile. Maybe he agreed.

      The smile turned her on. Discovering every feature excited her. She traced a line from his forehead over his nose and the spread of his nostrils. A soft sweep of his lips with her thumb paid homage to a key feature she’d instantly fallen for earlier that evening.

      He unbuttoned his shirt, but she couldn’t stay patient for his intentional performance of slowly undressing. While he dealt with that, she unfastened his pants and assisted him out of them with such vigor that they collapsed into each other’s arms, both laughing heartily.

      Once they’d restored order with her blushing and him clearing his throat, she had to admit to wanting all the time to look at his naked body.

      “Maybe we should exchange some sort of pleasantries.”

      “Now?” Laxmi couldn’t curb the fit of giggles as Dresden leaned against the wall with too much casualness. She didn’t want to deal with any speed bumps slowing the momentum of a spectacular nightcap.

      He kissed her pout until her lips relaxed and welcomed his mouth and the bold stroke of his tongue. Damn, he can kiss. She wrapped her legs around him to wipe out any gaps between them.

      “You know, to make this less of a booty call.” He nuzzled her neckline, tracing the curve to her shoulders.

      “Aw, you’re sweet,” she teased. “Okay, then let’s go with word association. You get five words and I get five. One-word questions and answers.” She grasped his firm behind in her hands and stroked the thick hardness of muscle.

      “Home?” he asked through clenched teeth to begin the game.

      “Brooklyn.” Her hands stroked upward along the contour of his back. “Your mom’s basement?”

      He laughed and handily took possession of her hands above her head. “Heck no. And that’s three words.” He punished her with a series of wet kisses around her nipple. “Canada?” he prompted. Meanwhile he continued teasing the valley between her breasts.

      She arched up for more of his tongue’s wickedness. “Doable.” Talking and moaning almost made her words unintelligible. She could barely think. “Purse,” she hissed.

      “It’s my turn. Gosh, you cheat.” He nuzzled her earlobe, which might as well be a turn-up-the-dial on the heat in her.

      “Purse,” she repeated with a gasp.

      “Red.”

      “No.” She pointed to the tiny accessory abandoned on the hotel desk.

      He shook his head, looking confused.

      She giggled. “I meant for you to hand me my purse. Condoms.”

      “Smart.” He nodded.

      “They are in my purse.” She couldn’t stop laughing at him.

      “I take it we’re done with the games.” He handed her the small red purse.

      “Pretty much.” She pulled out the condom and ripped the packet apart.

      “I’ll do it. You may tip me over before I’m ready.” He plucked the condom from her fingers.

      * * *

      Dresden the history professor and Dresden the one-night-stand lover boy didn’t compute. But this onetime scenario happened when he tucked logic away like a pesky friend.

      From his departure from the party to the arrival at this hotel room with Laxmi, he’d sailed through his experiences with the rush of adrenaline going through his veins. He was open to every sensation and Laxmi delivered, keeping all his senses on high alert.

      Yet he regretted nothing, instead diving into the deep end and enjoying whatever happened between in this moment. He had no misguided supposition that there would an episodic drama after this night. She’d made it clear that she was operating on satisfying a whim. And he had no desire to ignite anything that asked for commitment or long term.

      His plate was pretty full with the Meadowses.

      And he wanted to forget them, if only for a little while.

      *


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