While I was out, my teammates had snuck into my room and turned it into a love grotto—not for me and Hal, but for me and a very cheesy, mustachioed blow-up doll.
They’d gone all out, too. The doll was propped up on the bed with his legs spread and his inflatable dong pointed at the ceiling. Red silk rose petals were strewn all over the mattress, along with a bunch of wrapped condoms. A gallon jug labeled LUBE in huge letters sat beside the doll, and the room was lit with about thirty battery-operated candles, which they’d gathered from all over the house.
My face was burning as I turned to Hal. He was staring at the scene before him with a stunned expression.
In the next instant, he began howling with laughter. He laughed so hard that he doubled over, disappearing behind a curtain of his long, dark hair.
I chuckled at his reaction and went over to the nightstand. It held a bottle of tequila with two shot glasses, a roll of duct tape, and a note, which said:We know it’s been a while since you’ve gotten any, so we thought we’d help you out. P.S. the tape isfor when you inevitably pop Puffy McHindenberg in a fit of unbridled passion.
I held up the note to show Hal, who was still giggling. “I didn’t do this,” I said. “Here’s proof.”
“Yeah, I figured.” He wiped tears of laughter from his eyes and told me, “Your teammates are awesome.”
“They suck so bad.” I moved the gallon jug of whatever that actually was to the floor and grabbed the sex doll by his foot. Then I crossed the small room, opened the door to the balcony, and chucked him over the railing. He landed on his back in the pool, his inflated dick still pointing skyward as he bobbed along.
I shut the door and joined my guest, and he pulled me close and planted a kiss on me. I was surprised and relieved that all of this hadn’t completely put him off.
After a minute, he said, “I need to freshen up. Where’s your bathroom?”
“I’m sharing the one across the hall.”
He flashed me a sexy smile and said, “Be right back,” before slipping out the door.
As soon as he was gone, I snapped into action. First, I scooped up the blanket and shook all the condoms and rose petals onto the closet floor. Next, I fished around in my duffle bag and found the lube and condoms I’d bought for this trip. I didn’t trust the rubbers that had been left on the bed, because they were rainbow-swirled and seemed more like novelty items than the real deal.
I stuck my supplies in the nightstand, tossed the blanket over the bed, and sat down and took off my boots. That led to an internal debate about whether or not I should be getting naked right now.
It had been years since my last hookup. I could barely remember how to do this.
After the way my last relationship ended, the last thing I wanted was to put myself out there and risk rejection, even if it was just for a one-night stand. Weeks turned into months, which turned into a year and a half.
But now, finally, I was ready to end my self-imposed dry spell. I’d decided that even before I’d arrived in Las Vegas, which was the perfect place for a random hookup.
Not that I’d expected it to be with the most beautiful man I’d ever seen in my entire life. He was so far out of my league that it was kind of ridiculous that he’d come home with me.
But then, if he stuck to people in his league, he wouldn’t have much of a selection. It would really just leave him with a handful of models, bass guitarists, and A-list actors.
Bass guitarists were always hot, no matter what they looked like.
I whispered, “Focus, Ryder,” and tried to make a decision. Should I get naked, or not? I took off my flannel shirt and tossed it over the back of a chair. My belt followed. After hesitating for a few moments, I removed my jeans, climbed onto the bed, and tried to look natural.
Wait, I was still wearing socks. That definitely wasn’t sexy. I took them off and hid them under the bed, leaving me in just a T-shirt and boxers. I leaned against the pillows and stuck one hand behind my head, then two. I crossed and uncrossed my ankles. Then I tried stretching out on my side with one hand propping up my head and the other on my hip.
Okay, no. This was sleazy. I looked like I was starring in a low-budget porno, which would probably be called Riding Ryder.
I leapt up and grabbed my jeans, but before I could put them on, Hal slipped back into the room. He was carrying his clothes and boots, which left him in nothing but a pair of black briefs with lace edges. My jaw hit the floor.
I knew I was staring as he piled his things on the dresser and turned to me, but I couldn’t help it. He was a work of art. His body was long and lean with smooth, flawless skin, and his dark, silky hair was captivating. It almost reached his elbows, spilling around his shoulders and perfectly framing his face. And what a face it was, with its high cheekbones, dark, expressive eyes, and lush, full lips.
How could anyone be that beautiful?
Those lips curved into a teasing smile. “Like what you see?”
Did he really have to ask? I murmured, “God, yes,” and tossed the jeans aside as he crossed the room to me.
When our lips met, heat shot through my body. He leaned into me, and I ran my hands down his back. I savored him with all my senses, trying to commit every detail to memory. It would be all I had left when I was back home, and he started to feel like a dream I once had.
He paused to pull off my T-shirt before guiding us to the bed and climbing on top of me. His kisses felt urgent as he ran his hands over my hair, my face, my shoulders. It felt like he couldn’t get enough of me. It had been such a long time since I’d experienced anything like that.
