Just One Night (7 page)

***

Charlie Singleton had woken up with a hard-on that far exceeded his average morning wood, and it was all thanks to little Miss Riley Carter and that black leather sexpot outfit.

He reread her last text.
I wish you had been too.

Jesus. He hadn’t expected that. He’d picked up his phone and sent her a text to tease her. She’d startled the hell out of him when she said she’d been thinking about him...and now she wished he had been there when she’d tried on the bustier? God, help him.

Did you think about anyone when you put it on?
He typed, ignoring that his cock jumped at the idea, demanding his attention. He wasn’t about to cut this conversation short just to stroke one out.

Her reply came quickly.

I did.

He grinned. And wasn’t that why he’d bought the damn thing for her—so she’d
have
to think about him? Riley was too much of a good girl for her own good, and for some reason the idea of making her break that mold had fascinated him since the day Lacey had introduced them.

He settled back onto his pillows and looked at the ceiling. She worked in this very building, in one of the many offices in the tower over the casino. She tried to blend in with the stuffed shirts and the blowhards like she was one of them, when he knew she was really much more underneath. Why did the idea of making her hot and bothered while she was alone in her office turn him on so much?

Ah, but that’s why they called him the Devil.

How did it look? Are you happy with it, or do I need to take you shopping for a different one?

He hadn’t expected any of this when he picked up his phone to push her buttons. And now he’d pay. His cock was fucking granite, threatening to bust out of his boxers.

He set his phone on his chest, closed his eyes, and imagined her in her office chair, cheeks tinged with that perpetual flush she had in his presence, as if his mere existence were scandalous. She probably had her dark hair pulled back in a clip like she preferred to wear it for work, and was wearing one of those business suits that weren’t supposed to be sexy but were on her because of the way they pulled a little across her ass.

His phone beeped, alerting him to a new text, and he smiled. Looked like Riley wanted to play.

I’m happy with it. You liked it, then?

He thought he’d made that pretty damn clear yesterday.
I liked it, but I have no doubt I’d like it more on you.

Was this the text after which she’d finally say he’d taken it too far? He thought about adding more but left it at that, unwilling to scare her away if he could avoid it. He punched
Send.

Her response came quickly—as if she’d been typing it before he’d sent the last message.
I’ve never worn leather panties before.

He closed his eyes. Her ass would look so sweet in that red leather thong. And if she wore it for him, he’d roll her on her stomach, kiss his way down her back, touching his tongue to all the exposed pieces of flesh between the leather lacings. When he reached her ass, he’d graze his teeth over the firm flesh of each cheek before sliding his hand underneath her to cup her mound, rocking his palm against her so her swollen clit rubbed against the leather there.

His fantasy was interrupted by another message coming through.

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.

He moaned.
You’re making me uncomfortable, all right, but not in the way you mean. Don’t apologize. That’s what they make cold showers for.

He hit
Send
and he closed his eyes. What would she do if he went over to her office? He’d indulged in that particular fantasy more than once while staying at this hotel. Hell, truth was, he could have stayed anywhere. In some ways, it would have been better to stay at a hotel that wasn’t hosting the tournament, but he always stayed here. He’d never let himself over think it. He just did it. Because being near Riley felt good. Because flirting with her was fun.

His phone beeped.

Good. I mean, I’m kind of uncomfortable in that way too.

Groaning, he adjusted his dick. Maybe he’d always stayed here because he believed something like this could happen. He would go into her office without warning, lock the door behind him, and push her up against the wall...

Hell, he couldn’t fuck her in her office when she had a boyfriend anymore than he could go all-in holding an unsuited seven and two. But he could text with the best of them.

You know what would look good with that get-up?
he typed.

Her response came back quickly.
Tell me.

Leather handcuffs.

If that didn’t scare her off, then, well maybe he
would
go up there.

You’re into that?

He raised a brow. Really, as depraved as she seemed to think he was, the question took him by surprise.
I can be into a lot of things if the mood is right and both parties are willing.

You’ll have to show me sometime.

That had him shooting up in bed. Holy shit.

What exactly had happened on that date of hers last night? Had she finally seen her boyfriend for the tool he was? Would that be enough to have good girl Riley honest to God suggesting he tie her up sometime?

He frowned...or maybe someone else had her phone. He scowled at his display. Hadn’t she said she’d lost her cell? Had she ever found it? Had Lacey found it?

If Lacey was fucking with him, he was going to kill her.

He climbed out of bed and tugged on his jeans, exercising great caution as he zipped them. He’d go to Riley’s office, find out she’d lost her phone or forgotten it somewhere, and stop looking like a complete fool to whoever was on the other end of this conversation.

He grabbed the first t-shirt he saw in his suitcase. He pulled it over his head as he strode out of his suite. He was at the elevator when his phone beeped.

I’m kidding, of course.

That confused him even more. If Lacey was screwing with him, why would she pull back like that? If it was Lacey, she was trying really damn hard to be convincing.

Grand Escape was set up with two towers. The casino sprawled across the first floor, and there was a tower for the guest rooms and a tower for Carter Hotels and Entertainment executive offices. He had to go down to the first floor to get to the business offices, and by the time he was on the second elevator his phone was beeping again.

Okay, I feel really stupid now.

Damn. He let out a breath. But what if it was her? If Riley was coming out of her shell, he didn’t want to throw up walls. He wanted to throw down the red carpet.

The elevator opened to her floor and he typed a message as he walked toward her office.

Don’t.
He sent the single word reply.

There.

He didn’t knock on her door when he reached her office. Instead, he barged in and was greeted with the image of her sitting behind her desk. Her hair was pinned back at her neck, but one little strand had escaped and was beginning to curl. Her cheeks were flushed, and she chewed on her bottom lip as she stared at her cell phone.

“Riley?”

Her head snapped up and her eyes grew wide. “Charlie? What are you doing here?”

He wouldn’t have thought it was possible, but the pink in her cheeks deepened. “I—” Hell. What could he say? He wanted to see her let loose a little. Calling her out as soon as she started to let go was hardly going to help. He smiled. “Can I take you to breakfast?”

She laughed. “It’s almost four in the afternoon.”

Shit. Right. Suits like her had been up for hours now. “Right. Lunch then?”

“I already ate. Four hours ago.” She wrinkled her nose, and he thought,
So damn sweet
. “What’s this about?”

“It’s—” He looked at her phone. Okay, so she didn’t want to talk about it. “I just want to take you to lunch...or dinner, or whatever.”

Her eyes drifted down his body and to his crotch where his jeans were fitting a little tighter than they should, thanks to their texts.

He grinned. “Let me take you out, Riley. I need to get away from the usual suspects.”

She stood in a fluid motion of grace and long limbs. “I have dance in half an hour.” She slung her purse over one shoulder and clutched her phone in her hand.

“Let me walk you out,” he said.

She nodded, smiling at him as he held the door for her. “Are you enjoying your stay at Grand Escape?”

He watched her hips sway as she led the way down the hall. She had one of those bodies with a tiny waist and splayed hips. The kind that made a man want to run his hands from waist to hip and test the breadth.

He was imagining those bare hips flaring under the leather corset when she tossed a glance over her shoulder. “Has there been a problem?”

“No.” He caught up with her in three long strides. “Your hotel is lovely, as always.”

He slowed when they got to the elevators, but she kept walking. “Ry?”

“What?” She stopped and he motioned to the elevator. “Oh, no. No. I’m...” She shook her head. “I take the stairs. It’s good exercise.”

He narrowed his gaze. “You walk down twenty-two flights of stairs every day? For the exercise?”

“And up,” she said softly. “It’s not a big deal.”

That did a lot to explain her fantastic ass. “Treat yourself today,” he said. “Come on. Live dangerously.”

She turned, but he saw her swallow hard before her face was out of his line of sight. “I’ll pass,” she said before slipping into the stairwell.

Charlie smelled bullshit and followed her. “Why don’t you just put your office on the first floor?” he asked when he’d caught up with her.

“Because my father likes the office with the best view, so I’d have to walk up for meetings all day long anyway.”

Charlie smirked. Right. She did it for exercise. “Are you afraid of elevators, Riley?”

She stopped on the landing and looked at her feet. “Not afraid, exactly. I choose not to use them.”

He tipped her chin up and ran his thumb along her jaw. “Why?”

Her eyes dropped to his lips. “Why what?”

What had he been saying? He had no idea. Because those green eyes were on his mouth and all his blood had left his brain and headed south.

She shook her head, breaking the thick tension between them, and looked at her phone again. What? Did she think he was going to send her a text when he was standing right here? He wasn’t above it if that’s what it took.

“Come out with me tonight. I’ll pick you up after your dance class. I want to talk to you about—” He scrambled for a good excuse. “—an idea I had for Lacey’s birthday.”

She frowned. Maybe she was afraid he was going to hold her to her little suggestion about the handcuffs.

He held up both hands. “Completely platonic. I promise I won’t come onto you.” Then, because he couldn’t help himself, he added, “Unless you want me to.”

A small smile curved her pink lips and he bit back a groan thinking of how badly he wanted to put that smile in a whole new context. “Okay,” she said softly, turning to continue their long journey down the stairs. “For Lacey. But you have to be on your best behavior.”

“You have my word,” he said. And he meant it. Mostly.

I hope you enjoyed this sample of
TEXT APPEAL,
available now at most digital retailers.

~

Text Appeal

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