Page 6

It was the soft molten in her dark blue eyes. It was the hint in her smile, the tease in her voice. It was the way she called me a workaholic and prodded me to talk about it.

All her charm had me quickly closing up our tabs and showing her my last health screening results before we left.

As we drove, separately, to my condo, I kept a close eye on her car, watching her follow me with my heart in my throat. It’s been … well over a year since I’d been with a woman, even longer since I brought one home. And while something about Leah clicked, without her next to me, nerves started to settle in. What if I couldn’t get hard? Stress did that kind of thing, right? What if the condoms in my drawer were expired? Did I have the ingredients to make her breakfast if she stayed the night?

Hypotheticals buzzed around and around in my head until I was parked and waiting for Leah to join me at the entrance. When she approached, she was humming, bobbing back and forth to a tune in her head. But when she got close, she paused, head cocked.

“Change your mind?” she asked, voice gentle, like she was all too aware the question could make me feel judged.

“No, not at all. I …” I trailed off as my eyes dipped down to her collarbone, then the dip of her cleavage, then repeated, “Not at all.”

“So you’re nervous then?” she said with a small chuckle.

My muscles stiffened, the desire to say I don’t get nervous at the tip of my tongue. But I fought it. What Leah said about talking with a stranger made sense. I didn’t have to worry about the long-term effects of being honest with her. She wouldn’t question my worth, she wouldn’t baby me, and she certainly wouldn’t judge me.

But there was still a sense of shame around the confession.

“I haven’t done this in a while,” was what I said instead, a sort of compromise.

Given how she raised her eyebrows, I don’t think she bought it. But instead of calling me out, she slowly wrapped her arm around mine.

“You have to make a lot of decisions at work, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” I said, suddenly so tired from all the work I’d done for years.

“Then would you like it if I made all the decisions tonight? Would that take some of the pressure off you?” She let her hand drift down my arm until our fingers touched and intertwined.

My mind went dead, nothing but static. All I could do was stammer, “What do you mean?”

“I mean …” She paused, fiddling our fingers together before looking into my eyes. “Why don’t you be a good boy for me, do what I say, and find out?”

If the idea of not having to make decisions shut everything off, being good for her turned everything on, made me burn with excess energy. And without thinking, I was nodding. Nodding and nodding like a bobble head. She laughed a little but stepped closer, pressing our chests so close together that I wondered if she could feel my heart hammering.

“Do you wanna kiss me, Niall?” she asked with the most sinful smile I’ve ever seen.

“Yes.”

“Then kiss me.”

The One-Night Sand

Leah

There’s something about this nervous man that made me brave.

Would I normally ask a hot one-night stand if he’d be a good boy for me? Absolutely not. But with Niall, the things he said about work, his whole vibe, I knew it was what he needed.

And I was immediately proven right when I told him to kiss me.

Niall’s grip on my hand tightened and he pulled me flush against him, his free hand sliding up my back to grip my neck. He leaned closer, his lips grazing over mine, and asked, “Is this good?”

“Yes.” Instantly, his lips were on mine, full and soft. I sighed into it, the warmth, the skin to skin contact, all of it melting me. And Niall took the opening, deepening the kiss, letting the rough tops of our tongues glide against each other, sending a wave of heat straight to my cunt. His hand on my neck tightened, not hard, but supportive, tender even. Like he was grounding us in this moment with each soft stroke of his thumb.

“Tilt,” I murmured and he shifted, angling his head so the kiss tingled down to my toes.

“Like that?” he asked between long passes of our tongues. I hummed, nodding my head slightly, not wanting to interrupt the very fine work he was doing.

“No,” he grumbled, pulling away just a hair. “Use your words. Tell me it’s good.”