Michelle Monkou - The One That I Want

Not until Laxmi pulled up at a red light did Dresden test the seat belt. He kept one hand on the dashboard for added measure as she took off again. A sharp right turn tested his grip on every surface. A side glance to check on Laxmi only proved that the ride to his hotel would feel like a jump through a time warp.

“Where to?” she asked in between a three-lane change.

“I chose to stay at the Barkley Towers.”

“Nice digs. Everyone is at the Winthorpe.”

“I know,” he said. Fiona had offered to make the reservation at the same hotel, but he’d known he’d need his space. Besides, he’d passed on the Meadowses picking up the tab for his hotel stay.

“You’re a loner? Not judging.” Her hand rose against his instant protest. “Call me being observant.”

She banked a hard left. A few car horns blasted their owners’ annoyance. With another squeal of brakes, they pulled up in front of the hotel, a much quieter venue than the location for the birthday bash.

“Home sweet home.”

“Thanks.” Dresden unsnapped the seat belt and opened the car door. “I really appreciate...this.”

“No problem. My pleasure.”

He looked up at the building, glad to be in his safe space. Yet he didn’t want to part ways with Laxmi. “You’ve missed a lot of the festivities. Sorry about that.”

“Yes, but then, you wouldn’t have been there. Who would I have spent my time getting to know?” She shook her head. “Nah. I’m in the right place at the right time.”

“Do you want to come in for a drink?” He plunged ahead without bothering to have a comeback if she rejected him.

“Oh. I’m shocked.” She clearly teased him. “Didn’t think you were into one-night stands.” Her audacious wink drew his laughter.

“I promise that no such thing will occur.”

“Bummer.” She emerged from the car and handed over the keys to the valet. “And here I thought you were going to be interesting.”

Dresden didn’t know how to deal with his unlikely partner in crime. They walked into the lobby, with her hand tucked into the crook of his elbow, and then stepped onto the elevator. She hummed a tune he didn’t recognize. He looked straight ahead, hoping she couldn’t see his heart popping out of his chest, pumping like an overworked piston.

As soon as the doors opened and they stepped into the hallway, Laxmi said, “Somehow I pictured you in a setting like this.”

“Old and dusty?” He didn’t think she was laying down a compliment.

“An appreciation of the old mixed with the new. You’re a history professor. But you also have written some interesting articles on various topics with a predictive air about what the future holds. How the past doesn’t have to dictate the future. In other words, you are an optimist.”

* * *

Laxmi once had been an optimist. The high ledge where hope and ideals resided was for those lucky souls. But the space had felt narrow and uncomfortable once her life unraveled with loss and defeat.

Maybe her attraction to Dresden began with his air of optimism. Why else would he attend Grace’s party, despite his hasty departure?

* * *

“You knew who I was?”

“Not right away. Although, Dresden is an unusual name. But the aha moment hit when you showed up at the table.”

Dresden groaned. He didn’t want to remember his most recent personal history. He slid the hotel key card into the lock and motioned for her to enter.

“You know once I cross the threshold, you’ve officially invited me in.”

“And I’m all out of garlic and holy water.”

“I won’t put any moves on you.”

The declaration disappointed him. He was too damned ready to wrap his arms around her fine body and deliver a long, hard kiss.

“Oh, what the hell.” She grabbed his shirt and pulled him to her. “No?” She licked her lips. “Or yes?”

“Hell, yes.” He kissed her just the way he’d imagined the sensation of falling backward into bliss without knowing how far beneath him the bottom was.

Chapter 3

Laxmi held on for dear life, or more accurately, for the sheer enjoyment of being in Dresden’s arms. All night she’d engaged in sexy fantasies about kissing him. Getting herself hot and stirring up her desire weren’t anywhere on her party 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.