Short Story - "One Night Only" by D.D. Line

This week, I’m delighted to welcome another author, D.D. Line with her short story, “One Night Only”. It’s a contemporary romance about the morning after a night of seduction and a sapphire’s good luck. The heroine, Emma has a hard time leaving David—Mr. Sexy Man, but it’s fun to read about her escape, aka sort of ‘walk of shame’. Emma can’t help wondering ‘what if’ David is more than a one night only kind of guy.

D.D. thanks for sharing your story. Find out more about D.D Line after “One Night Only”. Enjoy!

ONE NIGHT ONLY

Her eyes opened, surveyed the unfamiliar room, and then shut tight again as realisation struck.

Pressed between the hard warmth of his limbs and the cool silk of the sheets, Emma took a deep, calming breath. While accusations screamed inside her head, she eased herself from his embrace, her goal to escape the bed before he awoke.

The thigh moving above her own gave her an odd sense of loss as she freed her legs. The fingers that brushed against the underside of her breast sent her pulse racing but she didn’t dare linger. She couldn’t bear to face him, to see what he must think of her after the brazen way she’d acted last night.

Emma’s feet touched the carpet in a silent whisper, her toes curling in the luxurious fibres. It was nothing compared to his feverish caresses, his lips, his tongue, his hands.

A scowl crossed her face as she turned away, searching the dimly lit room for her clothes. She spied one high heel in the pot plant beside the door. The other lay half-concealed by the quilt that escaped its lofty position on the bed minutes after they entered his room. One more step and she’d have found it the hard way. She’d have no hope of escape then.

Now where were her clothes?

Her dress was a crimson puddle on the floor, the colour not as bright now as it had been under the lights of last night’s function. It was the first thing he’d noticed, he’d told her, before spouting some ridiculous line about her being the only red rose in a garden of ‘plastic’ flowers. Stupid, pathetic, and overrated. Yet she’d fallen for it, hadn’t she? She’d stood there, basked in his compliments, and felt her insides clench with desires the depths of which she couldn’t comprehend.

As she clutched the dress to her nakedness, Emma questioned her motives. She hadn’t been drunk. Tipsy, certainly, but she was careful enough to be certain no one had spiked her drink. No thoughts of revenge on an ex-boyfriend either, she’d been single for some time. She wasn’t an innocent despite her less than modern take on the world of sex and dating and she wasn’t into one night stands, so why had she given in to her desire?

The stranger rolled onto his back. Frozen with the fear of discovery, Emma couldn’t help but appreciate the view as the sheet moved down his body in much the same way she had done earlier. She swallowed hard as the slow, sensual tease of silk revealed delicious male flesh inch by glorious inch before her traitorous gaze. It was only when his hand searched for her that Emma spurred herself into action. Even when his hand stilled, she could scarcely breathe.

Half-blinded by desperation, it took precious seconds to discover what she thought was his tie was the straps of her bra hanging off the bedside lamp. As close as she dared, she reached for it, almost knocking the lamp over in the process. There was a sharp click as she righted it, then soft light revealed a face that was beguiling, mysterious and filled with a raw sensuality that made Emma ache with lust all over again. She had to get out of there before her desire stomped over her common sense and left what little there was of her sanity in the same state as he’d left her body – limp, exhausted and strangely bereft. And then there was the matter of feeling completely satisfied.

Oh no, she couldn’t forget that.

This time, she exercised great care as she lifted the offending article of clothing from its resting place. She didn’t bother putting on the bra. The dress might hug her in all the right places but she could get from here to her room without worrying that she looked improper. At least she only had to travel down three floors and then she’d be free. She’d never have to see him again.

Of course, there was one scrap of material she couldn’t do without.

It was undignified to be crawling around the bed in a stranger’s room looking for an indecent bit of lace. He must have done something to her. He’d seduced her somehow, made her forget herself and what she believed was right. Perhaps he’d hypnotised her. Dark with mischief, those eyes had seen right through her, caught hold of her innermost desires, and acted upon them without ever letting her know his true intentions.

And the things he’d done to her willing body.

Damn him! She wouldn’t forget that either, not even if she tried.

Resolved in her urge to flee, to bow to the instinct that told her to run, Emma resumed her search for the evasive piece of underwear with renewed vigour. Even his foot moving across the edge of the bed to hang as if suspended in the air did not detain her from her quest. At least, not until she looked up and saw the offending piece of lace hanging off his big toe like a decadent banner.

Emma leapt up, grabbed the skimpy material, and forced her feet through its fragility. She paid no attention to the protests her tender skin made as she smoothed over the dress, collected her shoes, and squeezed the bra into as small a ball as possible.

Now she could leave.

Despite herself, she turned and took one last look, committing him to memory. Each hard angle, every strand of dark hair and oh yes, that particular piece of anatomy would sustain many a lonely night.

It took but a moment to reach the door. Seconds later, she was in the elevator, mercifully unseen. And it wasn’t until she reached her room that Emma realised she’d left her purse behind.

***

He heard a soft click but his languid brain told him it was the bathroom door closing. David smiled as he imagined the shower starting and contemplated joining her. It took little thought to picture what would happen next and his grin widened with mischief.

He splayed his hand over the silk of the sheets. His fingers found the lingering warmth of her body, the weave of fabric no match for the delicate softness of her skin. His nostrils flared as he caught the scent of her perfume. He inhaled, committing the intoxicating aroma to memory as his senses stirred in appreciation.

Perhaps he’d stay right where he was, strategically posed, ready and waiting for her reappearance. She wouldn’t have to say a word to seduce him; she’d managed that feat with one sweep of her startling blue eyes last night. He’d never seen such a colour before. Clear, calm, and confident, they’d drawn him closer, ensnared him, and he couldn’t have moved away if he tried, not that he wanted to. No, he’d bought her a drink, showered her with the kind of compliments to which he normally only paid lip service, toyed with the notion of voicing some instinctual desire to drown in those limpid pools, taken her by the hand and led her to his room.

When no sound of rushing water was forthcoming, he decided she must have been making use of the bathroom facilities. Another grin traversed his features. That meant she would soon be back in his arms and pressing that beautiful body of hers so tightly against him that he couldn’t be certain where she ended and he began. The expression of pleasure deepened as the decision to take things slower this time evolved, though neither had complained at the eagerness of the other in the hours that had transpired.

His eyelids flickered before the thick lashes crimped together in an ebony tangle, allowing the semi-darkness to drag him back to his dreamlike state.

He hadn’t wanted to attend the function to celebrate his company’s latest business merger. All he’d wanted was a quiet drink and to pore over his company’s latest reports.

A chuckle escaped the sensual pout of his lips.

He’d had no problem drinking in the shapely figure who looked as though she’d been poured into her dress.

It was the first thing he’d noticed – that dress. That and the way it caressed the curves of her body the way he longed to. He almost felt envious. Then she’d turned and looked at him and all thoughts of a quick exit vanished. In seconds, he was at her side, guiding her to the bar, (no way in hell was he leaving her alone so some other guy could make his move) and hoping the words that spilled from his mouth didn’t scare her away.

He thought he’d lost her when he’d mentioned her necklace, the stone of which nestled so invitingly in her cleavage. He’d compared it to the dazzling blue of her eyes.

‘It was my mother’s,’ she’d said, and her eyes had shimmered with the promise of unshed tears. ‘It’s passed down to all the first-born daughters in my family. Sapphires are meant to bring us good luck.’

She’d turned away from him then and David knew there was more to the story, but he didn’t press for an explanation as to the change in her demeanour. He’d simply offered her a drink in the privacy of his room, smoothly adding that the view was almost as impressive as she was. He couldn’t believe his luck when she said ‘yes’.

They’d barely made it inside the elevator before they were reaching for each other. Her heels placed her at the perfect height for the kisses he bestowed on her wanton lips. With deliberation, he’d leaned forward to unbalance her, forcing her to cling to him and press those soft curves against the hard angles that ached to claim her.

David wasn’t exactly sure how he’d managed to manoeuvre them from the elevator to his room, but it was easy to recall the way she’d kicked off one shoe and pulled him in for another ravenous kiss the moment the door closed behind them. The other soon followed. He had no idea where they landed and he didn’t care to find out. Minutes later, he’d let her go long enough to grab the covers and fling them back before picking her up and depositing her on the bed in the manner of some lust-crazed Neanderthal. To his delight, her response had been just as primitive.

His tie disappeared. His shoes and socks followed suit. Her dress slithered to the floor and his hands were quick to reach behind her, unhook her bra, slide it down her arms and toss it over his shoulder. What happened to the rest of their clothes, he hadn’t a clue. He only knew they were gone and he was touching her at last.

David swore as the ring tone of his mobile phone shattered his preoccupations with the goddess that he’d made love to for most of the night. Arm extended, he reached for it but his hand closed around an earring instead. Another chuckle escaped him as he raised himself into a sitting position, briefly wondered when he’d turned on the bedside lamp, and glanced at the bathroom door. His eyes widened as he realised it was open and the bathroom was empty. With the phone ringing again, he moved around the apartment and felt his stomach clench inexplicably at the realisation that she’d gone.

The phone gave one last indignant ring and fell silent.

David walked back to the bed and sat down. He stared at the main door then let his vision shift bringing the pot plant into view. A moment later, he was smiling again for on the floor, almost out of sight, was a small, rectangular shape that could only be a purse.

***

The sapphire’s luck must be with her after all, Emma had thought as she hurriedly packed her small suitcase. Thank God the Night Duty Manager happened to be in the elevator as she was about to re-enter it and had gallantly come to her rescue. Though she’d been without ID, he’d remembered her from her late check in the night before and let her into her room. He’d been kind, not to mention discreet. She’d seen no signs of judgement in his expression either, just a look of concern. Emma could only hope the stranger would be as discreet when he took her purse to Reception, if he bothered, of course. And even if he had wanted to see her again, (and she was sure he didn’t) and looked inside the purse, all he’d find was her room key, a licence with an old address, some cash, a few tissues, and a lipstick.

She’d miss the lipstick; it was her favourite shade. The money wasn’t something she wanted to throw away either but it was for the best. She wasn’t worried about him finding her here either. She knew his type. He’d had his fun and would move on. She told herself he was a ‘one night only’ kind of guy and as far as Emma was concerned, that was all she wanted too. What a pity it was that her body wasn’t inclined to agree.

Emma crossed the room to stare at the bathroom mirror. Her necklace shifted with the movement and the reflected sapphire glinted as if giving her a conspiring wink. Her gaze met with her mirrored twin’s and her heart hammered beneath her breast as she recalled the way he’d compared the gem to her eyes. Eyes just like her mother’s.

Now other memories swarmed in her head and not all of them were happy ones. Her father died when she was sixteen and her mother had never remarried.

‘There was only one man for her,’ she’d say. ‘The sapphire had brought them together and one day the precious gem would find Emma the love of her life too.’

Emma had thought that part of the story was a load of nonsense brought on by her mother’s illness. When her mother succumbed to the cancer that ravaged her, Emma had found herself quite alone and in desperate need of a change.

She’d kept the necklace. Despite knowing selling it would bring her a small fortune, she couldn’t bear to part with it or the memories it garnered. She’d sold the family home, found herself a job with a Brisbane based company, and moved her belongings into a modest apartment a short distance away from the main offices where she’d begin working in a week’s time. She’d attended the Surfers Paradise function in hopes of meeting her new boss in a less formal setting only that hadn’t happened. Instead, Heaven, Hell and an abundance of mortification had intervened.

She felt ridiculous as she opened her door just enough to ascertain the corridor was empty. And dare she admit there was a touch of disappointment that he hadn’t come looking for her?

She made her way to her car without incident. With hands gripped tight around the steering wheel, she stared through the windscreen as if she could see through the floors to the room where perhaps he still slumbered.

Was he dreaming of her? Were the night’s events repeating themselves in sensual delight on the flickering screen of his mind? Or was he just waking up with some vague notion that he’d had a good time and didn’t care that she’d gone?

Emma squeezed her eyes shut to keep the tears from falling. She was being ridiculous and she knew it but she didn’t understand why she felt this way. Wasn’t she certain that while she’d had a night she’d never forget he’d probably had a night he barely remembered?

‘Stop it!’ She told herself stubbornly. ‘You’re not the kind of woman who looks back and wonders ‘what if’.’

As she struggled to remind herself that last night had been what she wanted, Emma moved her necklace from where it had twisted around her seatbelt, drove out of the parking garage, and didn’t notice that the sapphire had brightened.

***

David stared at the report he’d meant to read a week ago without taking in a single word. Memories of ‘that night’ and the frustrating knowledge that somehow, he had let the best thing that had ever happened to him slip away consumed him. It was a ridiculous notion. One night! One night and he thought, well, he didn’t know what he thought.

He reached for his phone, located the picture he wanted and lost himself in those incredible, sapphire coloured eyes. It was out of character but he’d taken a photo of her licence before returning her purse to Reception and discovered to his dismay she’d already left the hotel. At least he had a name now - Emma Louise Monroe - not that it did him any good. He wasn’t going to look for her, was he? He wasn’t the sort of crazed stalker who searched the internet looking for information on people to use to their advantage. But if he wasn’t that kind of guy, how was he ever going to see her again?

The intercom buzzed on his desk and the dulcet tones of his personal assistant filled the office.

‘Your first appointment is here, Mr James.’

David released a sigh. His father’s habit of meeting his new employees personally was something David had been pleased to continue, but the last thing he wanted was to converse with whoever was waiting on the other side of the door.

With another sigh of resignation, he glanced at the day’s schedule and saw the name that all but leapt from his computer screen. A quick clatter of keys and David had all the information he needed.

For the first time in a week, he smiled. With his finger pressed firmly on the button he spoke into the intercom.

‘Thank you, Margaret. Would you please tell Miss Monroe to come in?’

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About “One Night Only” from D.D Line

I wrote ‘One Night Only’ for RWA’s 2013 Little Gems – Sapphire. Unfortunately, it didn’t place, but with the feedback I received, I made changes and entered it into another competition later that year - the 2013 Liz Huf Memorial Literary Awards ‘Gem’ anthology. The story earned first place. J

As for the inspiration, I liked the idea of a gem being handed down from mother to daughter as a symbol of love, something to be cherished. Also, most one night stands don’t make for a steady relationship, but I wanted to give my characters a little hope rather than just endure the ‘walk of shame’. This was a way of showing sometimes giving in to one’s passions isn’t necessarily something to regret. Life has a way of making things turn out all right.

About D.D. Line

D. D. Line is an aspiring writer who lives in a coastal town in Western Australia with her family, a curious cat, and two pups who are trying to dig their way back to Queensland - (we're Sunshine State ex-pats). While she's familiarising herself with a sun that sets over the ocean instead of the land and a 'North' that is decidedly pointing in the wrong direction, she's embracing all the beautiful western state has to offer.

Reading was her favourite past time in her formative years. In her senior year, thanks to a crush on her English teacher and a deep desire to impress him, she developed a love of writing that has sustained her throughout her adult life.

Since then, she’s won a few competitions, had short stories published in both local and state-wide publications, and is currently Romance Writers Australia's (RWA) Aspiring e-Loop Ambassador.

D. D. Line writes across genres including contemporary romance and fantasy. Her favourite is paranormal romance. 

Connect with D.D. Line

D.D. blogs at her site; http://ddlineauthor.blogspot.com.au/

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That was a terrific blog visit from D.D. Line and her prize-winning story. Please come again, D.D.

Have a good week everyone,

and enjoy whatever book you are reading.

♥ Ashlyn

“ONE NIGHT ONLY” Copyright Notice

All rights reserved. No part of this publication to be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means - electronic, mechanical, photo copying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author. Copyright © 2013 by Dannielle Line writing as D. D. Line.