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"You've got yourself a deal." I hold out my hand waiting for my two tickets to a few unforgettable hours with Jane Smith. "I'll text you when I'm done with the room."
***
"Do you do this often?" Jane's gaze roams my face as the elevator creeps its way up to the twenty-third floor.
I half-expected her to bail on me after I'd pocketed Jordan's room key and his one and only condom. I've had sex with enough strangers to know that second thoughts are the number one enemy of potential one-night stands.
Sometimes a woman thinks it's a good idea to hook up with a stranger until she has a minute to sit on that decision or she's phoned a friend from the ladies' room.
It's no harm, no foul to me.
I want to be a fond memory to the women I fuck, not a regret.
"Not as often as you think," I answer truthfully. My schedule is to blame for that. The few short-term relationships I've had the last few years are a contributing factor too. "What about you?"
"Does it matter?"
Hell, no. Her sexual history is about as important to me in this moment as her favorite color. She's a willing adult. That's all I need to know.
"The only thing that matters to me tonight is that we both have a good time."
She lets out a long exhale. "I need a good time."
I take a step forward as the elevator dings our arrival on the twenty-third floor. I turn to look at her once the doors fly open. "After you, Jane."
It's obvious from the sly smile on her face that she understands the double meaning of my words.
I'll give her what she needs before I take what I want.
It's always ladies first in my world and Jane is about to find that out.
Chapter 3
Chloe
Jane Smith?
As soon as I said the name, I knew it was a mistake.
I always imagined if I had a one-night stand that I'd use an exotic fake name, not a common name that virtually every woman who has slept with a stranger has used.
I watch Evan as he unlocks the hotel room door with the key card in his hand.
He is, without a doubt, the best looking man I've met in a very long time. I didn't notice him at the wedding before we ran into each other outside. That doesn’t surprise me since there are hundreds of people in the ballroom of this hotel, all celebrating a marriage that likely won't last a year.
The glass in my hand shakes as I follow Evan into his hotel room.
I don't drink often. When I do, it's usually a half of a glass of white wine with dinner, but tonight I thought I'd need courage to follow through with my decision to go to a hotel room with a stranger. I haven’t taken a sip of the Bellini, and I doubt I will. My stomach has been doing flip-flops ever since I agreed to come up to his room.
I almost hit the emergency button in the elevator to stop this entire thing in its tracks. I want this, but the nagging voice in the back of my mind is telling me that I'm going to regret it. I'm telling it to shut up and so far, I'm winning.
On our way up I asked him whether he does this often without thinking through the possibility that he'd ask me the very same thing. I didn't want to tell him that I've never had a one-night stand, so instead, I asked him if it mattered if I did.
Coming across as a bitch wasn't part of my plan.
Unfortunately, it sometimes happens when I'm nervous as hell.
"Are you from New York?" I ask that to close the gap of uncomfortable silence that sits between us. I have no idea if making small talk is expected when you’re on the cusp of crawling into bed with a complete stranger.
