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?’
♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
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
♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
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.
