Cathy Yardley - One Night Standards

“Oh, man, I am dying for a hot shower and a big bed,” he said, in that mint-julep drawl of his.

She sighed. That sounded good. Sounded even better if she could share one or both with Mark, who was arguably one of the best-looking men she’d ever seen. And the past few hours had only made her bizarre crush stronger, because he was different. Good-looking guys with egos the size of a Cadillac, she wanted nothing to do with. But Mark was funny, and versatile, and smart. He knew how to listen, and he knew how to share…. He had some of the wildest stories she’d ever heard. She’d actually wiped tears away from the laughter several of his anecdotes had produced.

If only he could write a decent e-mail and knew how to return a phone call, she’d probably go to bed with him, she thought, then bit her own tongue as she started giggling.

“What? What’d I miss?”

“Nothing,” she said, rolling her own head back, trying to stretch the kinks out of her neck. “Just punchy.”

“You are the best, you know that?” he said as they parked the car. “Honestly. I haven’t had this much fun on a road trip since the Parker twins needed a ride to Georgia.”

“Well, I’d love to drink to the Parker twins, and you’ll have to tell me that story sometime,” she said, unfolding herself from the car with a groan. “But looks like our sojourn is over, pal.”

They collected the bags, and she felt a stab of regret. Now that they were at the hotel, he’d undoubtedly go up to his room, she to hers, and never the twain would meet, as it were.

Still, he was funny, he was nice, and she hadn’t spent this much time with a man after the sun had set since she’d started working at Diva Nation. She needed to get out more. She took a quick glance at his physique as he easily lifted the bulky luggage.

Getting out’s not the only thing I need.

She shook her head, clearing it of the thought. Getting any further involved with Mark would be trouble—no matter how much she liked him personally.

Man, it had been a long day, a long drive. A long night.

They checked in with the night clerk, and got their keys. As luck would have it, they had rooms right next to each other. They rode the elevator in companionable silence. Finally, they were each at their respective hotel-room doors.

“Well, I guess this is it.” She held out her hand. “Thank you. For the ride, for being a great conversationalist. For everything.”

His hand was warm and firm in hers. “I feel like we’ve been to war together.”

She laughed, then bit her lip. “Would a hug be totally inappropriate? Because I swear, after that car ride, I feel like I’m leaving my best friend here.”

He laughed, put down the laptops and his duffel bag, and held out his arms. Putting down her purse, she moved into his arms, hugging him tightly. He smelled good and felt like a billion dollars, giving the perfect hug…just enough arm, not too crushing, not at all reluctant.

She was really, really going to miss him. It was ridiculous, after only six hours, but she was going to miss him like crazy.

She was turning to tell him that, she would tell herself later. She wasn’t turning to do anything else when she was still in his arms. She just looked up into those sky-blue-gray eyes of his, smiling when he stroked the side of her face. Smiling back at him.

She was still smiling when he leaned down. The two of them were smiling when their lips met. And for a second, it was absolutely perfect—the end of a perfectly awful day with the most wonderful ending imaginable.

Then something changed. Oh, it was perfect—but there was nothing friendly about it.

She felt him crush the hair at the nape of her neck, very gently, with his broad hand, holding her more tightly to him as she let out a soft moan and pressed herself against him. She opened her mouth and felt his tongue brush against her lips, tickling hers. She tilted her head for better access, and sighed right into him. He felt sinfully delicious and tasted like heaven. She clutched at his shoulders, feeling him press her against the door. She didn’t care. She wanted as much of him as she could get.

She had no idea how long they stood like that out in the hallway, but it was probably far too long…and it wasn’t even long enough. But she heard one of the bags falling over and, startled, she pulled back.

“Wow,” Mark said, his breathing uneven. “Just…wow.” He stared at her. “You okay?”

She took a deep breath. “I think you shorted out my left temporal lobe.”

He laughed, stroking her arms. She took a step back, studying him.

“Do you have any idea how outrageously good you are at that?”

He grinned, tongue in cheek, and leaned against the door frame. “Good manners would say I should be modest right about now,” he said, then he grinned devilishly. “But hell, I’m too tired. Yeah, I knew.”

“Good grief. You should wear a warning label. Be registered as lethal in most states.”

He winked at her. “Just most states?”

“Well…I’m betting you’d probably be okay in Hawaii,” she said. “Thanks again.”

“You make me laugh,” he said, his smile causing her to feel warm all the way down to her toes. “I dig that.”

“Who says dig anymore? What are you, Austin Powers?” She had to escape. If she stayed out here…

“Why?” He winked. “Do I make you randy, baby?”

“You nutcase,” she replied. “I dig ya right back.”

He sighed. “It was the kissing thing, huh?”

She thought about it. “Actually, it was the car ride. I’ve never met anybody who could talk about as many non–work related things as you,” she said. “It takes a man of true distinction to find Andromeda, debate the finer points of A Face in the Crowd and sing all the words to ‘Dead Man’s Party’ in a decent voice.”

His eyes lit up, like a kid at Christmas, and his grin was so happy she wanted to drag him into her room and not let him go, possibly ever.

“You keep smiling like that, Tennessee, and I’m going to do things I regret. So let’s call it a night.” With that—and because she was an utter, stupid glutton for punishment—she gave him one last, quick kiss, then opened the door, dumped her stuff inside and shut the door behind her. Then, she kicked off her shoes and threw herself onto her bed. She heard him hauling his bags into his room next door, and closed her eyes.

Okay, you’re an idiot, she berated herself. Kissing that man was like juggling chain saws. Might seem like a cool idea in theory, but if you didn’t know what you were doing, you were bound to get hurt.

Still…he was pretty amazing. And of course, gorgeous. And really funny.

And damn, that man could kiss.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, and she groaned. “Will this day never end?”

She peeked through the peephole…and saw a figure that still managed to look good despite the distortion of the fish-eye lens.

Don’t do it. You’re tired. You’re slap happy. You haven’t had sex in two years, she admonished herself. He works for the enemy. Do. Not. Open. That. Door.

She saw her hand grab the doorknob, twist it and swing the door open.

“Forget something?” she inquired.

His answering smile made her toes curl.

“You know,” he said, “sometimes, regret is healthy for you. Besides, it’s been a long time since I’ve done something somebody’s regretted.”

Without another word, she grabbed him by the shirt and shut the door behind him. His lips were on her before the dead bolt even shot the lock.

“We must be crazy,” Sophie muttered breathlessly against Mark’s neck, even as her fingers flew to the buttons on his shirt, undoing them slowly. She wasn’t going slowly out of any inherent sexiness…. Passion and exhaustion had made her fingers clumsy.