Bachelor Unclaimed (3 page)

Chapter 4

T
he next morning Ainsley opened her eyes when she heard the sound of the shower. It was time to make her break. She’d only pretended to be sleeping and now she needed to get the hell out of there.

Scooting off the bed, she looked around for her bra, found it and swiftly put it on. Leaving the bedroom, she found her dress and panties where they had been taken off her. Wiggling into her dress she wadded up her panties and quickly shoved them into her purse while sliding her feet into her shoes. Time was of the essence and she was determined to be gone before Winston got out of the shower.

Winston
.

For crying out loud, she had spent the entire night with a man and she didn’t even know his full name. But then, she thought, hurriedly moving toward the door, he knew none of hers, so what did that say about him?

At some point last night she recalled him asking her to spend the day and another night with him and she’d foolishly agreed. But now that she had reclaimed all her senses, there was no way she would spend two nights of marathon sex with a man she didn’t know. It was bad enough she had spent one night with him.

Before opening the door, she glanced around, really seeing the suite for the first time. It was humongous, nearly twice the size of her condo back in New York. She wondered what he did for a living to afford such extravagances. Last night she’d been too busy to appreciate the elegance of the oceanfront two-bedroom suite with its separate living and dining rooms, as well as a nice kitchen nook with a high-top table and chairs.

Ainsley blushed when she remembered what they’d done on that table, which was why she needed to leave now. Winston whatever-his-name had the ability to make her do things she normally didn’t do...like one-night stands. And then to agree to spend a day and another night with him, undoubtedly for more of the same mind-blowing sex. There was no doubt in her mind it would be enjoyable, but then her brain cleared from all that pleasure and she recalled that he had had condoms stashed under his pillow. That meant he had intended to bring some woman back here last night for a treat and she’d been the willing delicacy.

Easing shut the door behind her, she swiftly walked toward the elevator, ignoring the curious looks from an older couple who were stepping out of it. She didn’t need a mirror to realize all those passion marks on the side of her face, neck and upper chest were visible to the naked eye. She hoped she could make it out of the hotel and to the parking lot without too many people staring. It was early morning and she was wearing the outfit from last night as if she was ready to go partying. If the Claxton news reporter Luis had paid to dog her heels all during the election were to see her now, he would certainly have a story. She could just imagine the headlines:
Ainsley St. James spent the night with a man she didn’t know.

You couldn’t get any more scandalous than that, she thought, finally leaving the hotel without making a spectacle of herself. A few moments later she was in her car and driving away, and it was only then that she released the breath she’d been holding.

It wouldn’t be so bad if every cell in her body didn’t vibrate from all the memories that were flowing through her head, memories her mind just refused to let go of. Like how with Winston’s help she had managed to quench a feverish hunger that had been inside her, a hunger she hadn’t known she’d had until he had exposed it in the most delectable way. Even now her nipples were jutting hard against her dress in memory of how much attention he’d given them.

Not to be outdone, the area between her legs was twitching, remembering how his hands, mouth and shaft had invaded her in a way that she would never forget. It had taken coming to Hilton Head to meet a man capable of making her scream at the top of her lungs.

Glancing at the clock on her car’s console, she was surprised to see it wasn’t quite seven in the morning, as she continued driving toward the Inner Harbor Resort. She tried not to think about what Winston’s reaction would be when he walked out of the shower and found her gone.

As it stood now, he didn’t know a single thing about her and that was a good thing since last night meant nothing to either of them. There was no doubt in her mind that women came and went from his bed in a steady stream.

As for her, she would spend the next ten days relaxing, and then at some point she needed to call her former employer to try and get her old job back as a journalist for
The New York Times
.

She had resigned from her job in August of last year, certain she would win the election because she had the backing of the entire town. Besides, at the time it had been an uncontested race. So to her way of thinking, it should have been a sure win for her. However, at the last minute, Higgins, a newcomer to town, had made a surprise move and thrown his hat into the ring. In no time at all his campaign had strategized by going after her character, literally cutting it into threads.

The election in November had been a shocker since Higgins had won by a landslide victory. She had been ready to pack up and leave Claxton and return to New York, and would have done so had it not been for her father’s heart attack the day after the election.

Ainsley was certain the negative campaign had taken a toll on her parents, her father in particular since she was a
daddy’s girl
. She felt somehow responsible and since she was her parents’ only child, she’d remained in Claxton for the past two months during her father’s recuperation period. Now he was a lot better and had returned to work last week.

And it was time for her to do the same.

As she continued to drive to the resort, her mind drifted and she couldn’t help remembering last night. Why hadn’t she listened to her best friend, Tessa Spencer? Tessa had warned her the Sparrow would be full of men with only one thing on their mind. Your cookie. “Unless you’re prepared for them to gobble it up, then go someplace else,” Tessa had said. But Ainsley had gone anyway. It wasn’t that she hadn’t believed Tessa. She hadn’t placed a lot of significance on the warning because she’d been certain she could handle any situation. She was a big girl and could take care of herself.

Only thing for certain, she hadn’t been prepared for the likes of Winston what’s-his-name and last night he had been hers completely. Every single sexy, make-a-woman-drool part of him. And she had acted like a greedy hussy. It didn’t take much to remember how those dark eyes would stare her down with that I-want-to-make-love-to-you look, stimulating within her a need she hadn’t known existed.

Her hand tightened on the steering wheel when she brought the rental car to a stop at a traffic light. Then there were those naughty messages he’d whispered in her ear right after they’d made love that first time when he held her in his arms. They had made her breathless anticipating him doing just what he said he would do. And he had. With an experience she didn’t want to wonder how he got, he had used his tongue to taste every part of her body, inch by sensual inch. He seemed especially partial to her breasts. But then other parts of her hadn’t been neglected, either.

While he’d been atop her, stroking into her body in a rhythm that nearly drove her insane, she had looked up at him and seen the intense expression in the hard angles and planes of his face. She had gotten absorbed in the deep, dark eyes staring back at her as he sent her over the edge. His lovemaking had been so profound it took her breath away just thinking about it. He had definitely been her fantasy.

Now it was back to reality. As she turned into the entry gates to the resort, she decided that she would shower and go to bed and get the sleep she’d been deprived of last night.

* * *

Leaving the bathroom after his shower, Winston didn’t have to look at the empty bed to know Red was gone. She had agreed to stay for another day and night and he had been looking forward to it. He figured he should be grateful she had left, but couldn’t help feeling disappointed that she had left without first telling him...

What? Her name? How to contact her again?

He rubbed his hand down his face in frustration. He didn’t handle one-nighters that way. Usually he would have a name, a first one at least, although most of the time he wasn’t certain it was genuine. And he’d never felt the need to keep one woman around. So why had he tried making Red different?

Because she was.

The moment he had eased between her legs and thrust hard inside of her, he’d known it. Never had he engaged in such mindless, erotic pleasure. Her inner muscles had clenched him, nearly made him beg for mercy, and driven him to make his strokes harder. Pound into her deeper. She would scream and he would growl.

And then her going down on him was no joke, either. What she’d done with her mouth had shudders running up his spine even now. He had known when he’d seen her at the club that her mouth could deliver and it had. She’d given him mindless pleasure and had ignited something wild and untamed inside him, making him want to go another round, then another, and another.

Hell, it had definitely been one incredible night.

Now she was gone and chances were he would never see her again.

He moved toward the bed and glanced around. There wasn’t a trace of her anywhere. But all he had to do was sniff the air to inhale her lingering scent. It was an aroma that hadn’t just entrenched in the air but was embedded in his skin even after his shower. The woman had worked her way into his mind.

A fierce frown settled on his face and he drew in a deep breath while giving his mind a mental dressing-down.
Then you need to get her out of your mind. She was a one-nighter, so why are you getting so worked up about it? You don’t do relationships, don’t have time and wouldn’t do one if you did. Do you need to be reminded of Caroline Darling and all the pain she caused you?

Yes, at that moment he needed to be reminded of Caroline, and the memory was like a douse of ice water to his body. It didn’t matter that his night with Red had been off the charts. Great sex was great sex but that was all it was. No woman would get under his skin again no matter how great the sex was.

A short while later Winston was glad he’d managed to get his mind back in check. He had dressed to go down for breakfast and play a game of golf when his cell phone went off. He could tell by the ring it was Uriel. Each of his godbrothers had their own ring tone. Uriel happened to be the oldest of the six, besting Winston’s thirty-four by eighteen months.

Most people knew the story as to how six guys had become best friends while attending Morehouse and had on graduation day made a pact to stay in touch by becoming godfathers to each other’s children, and that the first-born sons’ names would carry the letters of the alphabet from U to Z. And that was how Uriel Lassiter, Virgil Bougard, Winston Coltrane, Xavier Kane, York Ellis and Zion Blackstone had come into existence.

Winston was close to his godparents and godbrothers and couldn’t imagine them not being a part of his life...although at the moment he was somewhat annoyed with three of them: Uriel, Xavier and York.

A few years ago when he and all five of his godbrothers were going through some sort of issues with women, they had come up with the idea of the Bachelors in Demand Club. They were supposed to be die-hard players—all six of them—who would enjoy life without any serious entanglements. But now the club of six was down to three after Uriel, Xavier and York had fallen in love and married. As far as he was concerned they were all whipped men.

It didn’t matter one iota that he happened to like the women his three godbrothers had married. That was beside the point. The fact remained that they had defected.

“What’s up, U?” Over the years they had shortened their names for each other to just the first letter.

“I haven’t heard from you since the New Year’s Eve party. Just checking on you, W.”

He wasn’t surprised since he and his godbrothers stayed in contact pretty regularly. “I’m fine. How’s Ellie doing?” Uriel’s wife was expecting their first child in May. Xavier’s wife, Farrah, was expecting that month, as well. Winston had to get used to the idea of U and X as fathers, just like he’d gotten used to them as married men.

“Ellie’s fine. She’s working on another novel and believes this one will be a bestseller.”

“They always are.” Ellie was a romance author who wrote under the pseudonym of Flame Elbam. Uriel and Ellie hosted a New Year’s Eve party every year at their home in Cavanaugh Lake in North Carolina. It had been at that party a couple of weeks ago that Ellie had announced her last novel had been on
The New Yorks Times
Bestseller List for six weeks straight.

“I hear you’re off Barrett Shores for a few days,” Uriel said.

Winston didn’t have to guess where U had gotten that information. More than likely it had come from York since he had been the last one Winston had spoken with. York had called this morning when Winston was throwing items into an overnight bag.

It hadn’t been loneliness that had driven Winston across the Sound to Hilton Head. The need to get laid had been the driving factor. And the trip hadn’t been disappointing.

“Yes, I needed to come into town,” he heard himself saying.

“How are things going with the project?”

Up until a month ago, very few people had known that his research as a marine biologist had reached a major breakthrough in the medical arena. Since word had somehow gotten leaked to the press, he’d been inundated with emails and letters wanting interviews.

“Pain in the ass right now. I prefer keeping my hands in the research side of things versus the business side, you know that.”

“Yes, and you should have taken my advice and hired a public relations expert. It’s only a matter of time before your true identity gets out and Barrett Shores won’t be your private island anymore.”

Winston frowned at the thought. When he had left his six-figure job with Destin Pharmaceuticals a few years back, he had decided to further his research under a pseudonym to keep his private life private. And following Ellie’s advice, he’d even gone so far as to set up a Facebook page with a picture of his grandfather for publicity purposes to appease the serious diggers determined to uncover his true identity. However, Uriel was right. Pretty soon some determined reporter would dig deep enough and find out Winston Coltrane and the renowned Dr. R. J. Chambers were one and the same.