One Night: A BWWM Interracial Romance Page 5

  Best to start making moves to get going back to her room.

  JAKE

  Jake could feel the change in her body as they both came down from their high. He grabbed her before she could roll out of bed.

  “Stay,” he said, simply.

  He felt her pause underneath his firm hand, then she settled back into the bed, rolling back into his arms. Her head rested on his chest and he lightly stroked her back.

  Eventually they slithered underneath the covers into a single cocoon and feel asleep in each other’s arms.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  JAKE

  Jake was the first to wake up.

  His eyes squinted open as he felt the first pangs of a mild hangover. It wasn’t too terrible. He was used to finishing the bottle by himself and battling much worse the next day. All a part of the ritual. Last night had changed all that. Once again he pondered what that meant for this, his seventh book.

  He looked down at the head nestled in the crook of his arm. This one was going to have a rough go of it. He felt a tiny stab of guilt for his role in the unfortunate morning she was about to have. Hopefully the latter part of the night had been worth it. He smiled as he recalled the details.

  Jake wanted a shower badly. He momentarily pondered waking Natalie to join him and continue the fun. Instantly he thought better of it. Best to let her sleep off as much as possible.

  He maneuvered himself from underneath her with the finesse of a thief navigating laser-beamed tripwires. By the time he slid off the edge of the bed she was still sound asleep, now resting on her side away from him. As he drew away from the covers, they shifted down her smooth back. He paused to take note of the tattoo that he had been too preoccupied to seek out last night.

  They did look like angel wings, and indeed they were placed at just the right longitude to be labeled a “tramp stamp.” Looking at that lovely expanse of brown skin the word “tramp” seemed blasphemous. His hand ached to feel the silkiness glide underneath his fingers. He reached out his left hand and softly traced the dark ink with one finger. She shifted in her sleep, the covers slipping further down her hips revealing the lovely swell that curved up from her waist. He took a mental photograph of the whole scene. This was one he wouldn’t forget.

  He got up to head into the bathroom closing the door softly behind him. The bathroom was big and the shower was at the far end. He didn’t worry too much about the sound of the water waking her as he turned it on and stepped underneath the scalding waterfall.

  Like most people, Jake used his time in the shower to think. As he soaped himself up, he thought about last night. It was a one-night stand, plain and simple. Why had he asked her to stay, even when she had been so willing to leave? The feeling of her falling into a drunken sleep in his arms had been…comforting somehow. Maybe it was because he had done so much more talking than usual to get a woman into bed. Still, it had been worth it, even if it had completely upended his ritual after finishing a book.

  That brought his mind around to the book. It was a decent output, of that he was sure. His fans would be pleased. Another Nick Zane adventure set in far off lands. Jake sighed. The writing had become somewhat formulaic at this point. The publishers would no doubt love it, but Jake was getting tired of it by now. Writing had been fun in the beginning, even when it looked like the “hobby” was becoming his career. Now it was officially work, but he couldn’t just give it up. He had already quit one profession, even if he had lasted about the usual lifespan for someone in that field. He didn’t want to go through life being a quitter, especially at something he was obviously so talented at.

  Perhaps Natalie was a sign. He thought back to the lovely curve of her back, tattoo peeking out, as she lied in his bed. What a scene.

  Jake paused in his lathering. Maybe she was a sign. Maybe Nick Zane needed a Natalie in his life to shake things up. His publishers had been pushing him to include a “romantic interest” in his books anyway. Sure, Nick Zane managed to get his rocks off in each and every book, as international men of intrigue were wont to do, at least in the Hollywood version. Until now Jake had loathed the idea. The last thing he wanted to do was write about “feelings.” Lust was easier. But a challenge was just what he needed to make writing more interesting again.

  Maybe he should give it a shot.

  He rinsed off quickly and stepped out of the shower. He grabbed a towel and threw it around his waist, not bothering to dry off first. Turning the knob slowly, he nudged open the door to see that Natalie was still asleep.

  Jake stood there, dripping onto the carpet, watching her sleep. He couldn’t help but notice that the covers on her front side clung stubbornly to one nipple, letting just a sliver of darker brown peek out over the top. The baser part of his mind willed it to slide down just a peep to satisfy a momentary carnal desire.

  As if reading his mind, Natalie shifted slightly. Down went the bed sheet, revealing not one but two lovely round breasts. In a simultaneous reaction, he felt a twitching in his groin. Just as he was beginning to feel like a bit of a Peeping Tom, her eyes blinked open.

  NATALIE

  Dear god, her head was killing her.

  Natalie blinked slowly in the soft morning light. Through sticky lashes she made note of the large bed she was in, the nightstand, and the room around her. Her eyes shot open as she momentarily wondered where the hell she was.

  That’s when she saw him staring down at her with a smile. She swiftly lifted herself up onto her elbow. Two seconds later she felt the regret from that move. Her hand went up to her head, at the same time she realized that the covers had slid down her torso, leaving her half naked in front of him. She grabbed the covers and pulled them up to her shoulders, falling back on the pillows.

  “Ohhh,” she moaned, closing her eyes as the imaginary sledge hammer swung its way through every nerve in her head.

  As the pain took a momentary breather, she opened her eyes to look at the man by the bed, dressed in nothing but a towel. Water fell in drops from his wet, muscled body. His damp hair fell into his eyes as he looked down at her. She eyed the glistening tattoo of a snake as he reached down to secure the towel around his hips tighter. Under any other circumstance, the image would have called for a morning quickie. Right now, her body was rebelling too hard against her to even entertain such an idea. And this guy was partly to blame!

  Jake. Jake…Cavanaugh. She remembered that bit. Other bits were starting to piece themselves together and she brought the covers closer to her neck as they fell into place. She eyed him as he strolled around the bed, picked up the bottle of whiskey and poured some out in a glass, handing it to her.

  “Are you mad?” she exclaimed with a scratchy voice. She looked at the glass he held out to her with horror.

  “Hair of the dog,” he said, as though it should mean something to her.

  “What are you talking about?” she asked, the irritation in her voice coming out. She could feel nausea bubbling up in her stomach. This hangover was coming at her from all sides.

  “Trust me,” he said, still holding out the glass. “It’ll make you feel better.”

  Natalie squinted up at him, glanced down at the glass suspiciously, then looked back up at him with a frown. He shook the glass expectantly and she sighed, taking it from his hand. She looked down at the amber liquid and sniffed it, as though maybe it had transformed into some healing elixir overnight. She took a small sip of it, and the familiar heat trailed down her esophagus into a very unwelcoming stomach.

  “However, in the meantime, if you feel the need,” he said, reaching down for the small trash can by the bed, “please avoid hurling on the bed. I kind of like this room and I’ve got it for another week.” He placed the can right next to her on the floor.

  “Please don’t give my body any ideas,” she pleaded. Just hearing the word made her tummy react. She took another sip in hopes it would help. The first bit was beginning to settle already.

  “I’ll order up some eggs and bacon
,” he said walking over to the phone. “It’s the second best hangover cure.”

  He reached for the phone on the bed stand next to her and dialed up room service. She listened as he ordered scrambled eggs, toast, extra bacon and coffee. It sounded like the last thing she needed right now.

  Breakfast. Natalie’s eyes shot wide.

  “Oh shit! What time is it?” she asked.

  He looked pointedly at the clock next to her on the bed. She turned her head to look: 10:37. Dear god, Denise and Mia were probably up and wondering where she was. She grabbed the phone as soon as he put it down and dialed their room.

  Denise picked up after the first ring.

  “Natalie?” She asked before Natalie could say a word.

  “Desnise, it’s me.” Natalie said in a falsely chipper voice. She wasn’t sure if the raspiness of her morning-after throat came through on the other side.

  “Where the hell are you? We’ve been up for over an hour.”

  “Um, I just went for a walk,” Natalie said, eyeing Jake as he walked over to the window and leaned back against the sill, watching her with a smile. Why couldn’t he go in the other room or something?

  “A walk?” Denise asked suspiciously. “Why didn’t you leave a note? Your purse, your phone, everything is still here. We were getting worried.”

  “I’m sorry,” Natalie said. “It was just an impulsive thing.”

  She saw Jake chuckle to himself at that. Natalie frowned up at him.

  “Where are you calling from?” Denise asked. “We’ll come down and meet you.”

  “No!” Natalie yelped. “I mean, I can meet you guys in a bit. Just give me a few minutes.”

  “Well, we’re kind of hungry. We were going to go get breakfast. Why don’t you meet us in the restaurant?”

  The thought made Natalie’s stomach turn. “No, you guys go. I’ll be in the room when you get back.”

  “You sure?” Denise sounded uncertain.

  “Yes, definitely. I’m fine, don’t worry,” Natalie assured her. “Just go, I’ll be back in the room soon.”

  “Okay then,” Denise said, still sounding unsure. “See you then.”

  “Okay, bye.”

  “Bye.”

  Natalie hung up the phone and fell back on the bed. She turned a sour gaze to her companion. “I don’t know why you find this so funny,” she grumbled. “I’m practically dying and my friends thought I was kidnapped or something.”

  “Is the whiskey helping?” he asked. He almost seemed sincere.

  Natalie took another sip. The grumbling in her tummy seemed to be momentarily held at bay. The pounding in her head would need much more work. She closed her eyes and rolled her head to the side. She couldn’t even bring herself to even get out of the bed to get dressed.

  “Listen to me. Drink the whiskey, eat some eggs and bacon. It’ll all help, I promise.”

  She was too weak to do anything else so she sat there in bed, eyes closed, hoping he would let her be.

  CHAPTER NINE

  NATALIE

  Natalie heard the breakfast arrive and Jake had them set it in the dining room to give Natalie her privacy. She still hadn’t moved from the bed, despite her promises to Denise. Every move pounded another nail into her head. She sipped the whiskey like an invalid, hoping Jake wasn’t bullshitting her.

  He came back in holding the tray of food in his hands. Apparently she looked a hot mess from the expression he gave her.

  “Do I look that bad?” she sighed, reaching up to smooth down her hair, wincing when she felt the tangled mess.

  He smiled, “There’s nothing more beautiful than a woman the morning after,” he teased.

  Natalie grabbed a pillow and threw it in his direction, missing by a good five feet. The movement sent another wave of pain into her forehead and she winced.

  “Careful!” he laughed. “Hot coffee coming through.”

  As he brought the tray of food over, the aroma of eggs and bacon caused her stomach to lurch. “Ugh,” she protested, turning her face away with a cringe. “Seriously, I couldn’t eat any of that. Just the smell….”

  “Try it,” he urged. “Slowly. And keep sipping that whiskey.”

  Natalie reached out and grabbed a piece of bacon, bringing it to her mouth. She nibbled on the salty, crispy end of it, willing her stomach to behave.

  Jake was still in his towel, only slightly less damp than before, sitting on the edge of the bed before her. It was distracting; a nice distraction, but distracting all the same. She had to plot her escape.

  Her eyes wandered around the room, trying to remember exactly where each article of her clothing was. Bra. Panties. Pants. Sweatshirt. She smiled when she thought of the boots scattered somewhere in the other room.

  “Feeling better?” Jake asked, noticing the smile.

  She nodded. Actually, the bacon was settling just fine in her stomach. She wasn’t so sure about the eggs quite yet, so she grabbed a piece of toast instead.

  “You know,” Jake began, “you completely ruined my ritual. If this book bombs, I’m blaming you.”

  Natalie gave a smirk. “Maybe something other than drinking alone is a good thing. Besides, if it’s a bestseller, you have a new ritual: a one-night stand.”

  “Ahh, but it would have to be the same one-night stand,” he said, grinning back at her. “Does that mean I can come find you when I finish the next one?”

  Natalie blushed, and focused on the piece of toast in her mouth. She looked down at his firm naked, torso, twisted her way, as he leaned on one arm. Even sitting down he had a six-pack, the V of his groin leading down into the terry cloth and…. She had vague memories of what he looked like underneath.

  Jesus, why wasn’t he getting dressed already??

  JAKE

  Jake watched her eyes crawl down his body. He was more than happy to let her enjoy the view, especially if it lead to something else. On the other hand, she was still looking a bit green in the gills. Better to let her recover in peace.

  He thought about the book. Already ideas on how to change it up were coming at him from all directions. Everything in his head mimicked their adventures from last night. Well, with a more cloak and dagger twist. Two strangers meeting in a bar. A night of drunken sex. Of course in the book, they continue the adventure together. Readers liked a happily ever after.

  In his head it was all Natalie. The legs, the face, those lips—god, those lips—even the damn tattoo. He wondered what she would think about being his muse. Would she be flattered?

  Time would tell.

  He watched as she squirmed slightly, her eyes still lingering over his almost naked body. He should be the one that was uncomfortable, he thought to himself. He decided to give her a break and get dressed. Too bad, there was sliver of hope that they could continue where they left off last night.

  “Thanks for breakfast,” she said, “and the whiskey. I think it is helping.”

  “I live to serve,” he said grabbing a pair of boxers from the drawer and pulling them on underneath the towel. He let the towel drop and her eyes immediately darted away to any other direction but his. Apparently underwear was no better than a towel.

  It probably didn’t help that she was still quite naked underneath the covers that she still insisted on holding firmly across her chest and underneath her arms. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen—and tasted—every part of her last night.

  Jake was rather enjoying himself. He slowly worked his way around the room, smiling as her eyes immediately darted in the opposite direction of wherever he went. He pulled a t-shirt from the armoire and pulled it on over his head.

  “Better?” he asked, reading her mind.

  She turned to him, wide-eyed. “Well it’s your room. You didn’t have to get dressed on my account.”

  “Well in that case,” began reaching up to pull his shirt off.

  “What are you doing?” she cried.

  “It is my room, no?” he said throwing the shirt off. He hooke
d his fingers into his drawers, ready to pull them down.

  “Stop!” she yelled. “I am trying to eat here.”

  “Ouch,” he said with an injured look.

  He saw a smile creep to her lips at that.

  “Speaking of which, I should probably get dressed too.” She looked up at him pointedly.

  “You weren’t so shy last night,” he teased, getting the hint. “It isn’t as though I haven’t already seen everything.”

  She frowned, and he decided let her stew a little.

  “If it makes you feel better, I would love to see it all again.” He smiled brightly.

  Her frown deepened and she sank back into the bed. “Are you going to let me get my clothes or not?” she fumed.

  “Okay, okay,” he ceded. “I am a gentleman after all.”

  She rolled her eyes and waited for him to go into the other room.

  Too bad. He certainly hadn’t been lying about wanting to see her body again. Just thinking about it was causing the thin fabric of his boxers to form a tent.

  CHAPTER TEN

  NATALIE

  As soon as he left, Natalie jumped out of bed. Her head still pounded, though less than before, but at least her stomach was calm. He had been right about the food, and she supposed the whiskey as well. She saw a tiny bit left in the glass and gulped it down. No need to let it go to waste.

  She scrambled around the room grabbing her scattered clothes and pulling them on before he decided to be a jerk and change his mind.

  Why was she being so shy about it? She had certainly enjoyed ogling his body. Under less achy and nauseous circumstances she wouldn’t have even minded a replay of last night. But one-night stands were one-night stands, and her friends were probably done with breakfast by now. If she wasn’t back by the time they got to the room, they’d probably send out an alert or something.