One Night Stand Read online

  A Total-E-Bound Publication

  www.total-e-bound.com

  One Night Stand

  ISBN # 978-0-85715-255-8

  ©Copyright Cassandra Gold 2010

  Cover Art by Natalie Winters ©Copyright August 2010

  Edited by Jess Bimberg

  Total-E-Bound Publishing

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.

  Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

  The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

  Published in 2010 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.

  Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated Total-e-burning.

  ONE NIGHT STAND

  Cassandra Gold

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Coke: The Coca-Cola Company

  American Idol: 19 TV Ltd. and FremantleMedia North America, Inc.

  Chapter One

  “There. You look wonderful.”

  When Lorenzo stepped back, Thomas Garner peered at his reflection in the mirror. The new striped button-up shirt and khaki slacks he wore looked okay, but he still had his same old boring brown hair and hazel eyes. He also hadn’t lost any weight or gained any new muscles in the past few minutes. ‘Wonderful’ was probably an overstatement.

  “Are you sure you’re not saying that because you’re my friend?”

  Lorenzo laughed. Denny, Lorenzo’s partner, came up behind them and whistled. “Nice, Tommy.”

  Tom grinned to hide his nerves. “Thanks. Now let’s go, before I chicken out.”

  A few minutes later, Denny pulled into a parking spot across the street from their destination. Tom got out of the car, taking deep breaths. God, he was nervous. He hadn’t been to a place like this in years, since the early days of his relationship with Michael. He’d never really liked the bar and club scene anyway. The only reason he stood here tonight, about to go into a gay bar, was because Lorenzo had insisted it was past time he started getting out again.

  And he was right. Michael had been gone two years now. Tom still loved Michael, probably always would, but he was ready to date again. Who knew, maybe he would meet someone interesting tonight. Even if he didn’t, braving the bar scene would be good experience. He hoped.

  “Come on! I’m freezing.” Denny’s voice pulled Tom from his thoughts.

  “Sorry.” He trailed behind his two friends, not quite able to match their enthusiasm.

  The air inside the bar was blessedly warm after the frigid temperature outside. Tom stood in the doorway for a moment, glancing around. The night was young, so the place wasn’t too crowded yet. Quite a few men stood at the bar, drinking and talking. Others sat in booths along the periphery of the small dance floor. He spotted a wide range of ages, from early twenties to a few men in their forties or fifties. The clothing styles varied wildly as well. Some men wore leather, others wore bright colours and skimpy clothing, and some, like him, were dressed in ordinary dressy-casual wear. He heaved a sigh of relief. At least he’d blend in.

  “Let’s get a drink.” Lorenzo grabbed his arm and dragged him to the bar.

  He ordered rum and Coke. Lorenzo’s drink choice, a bright pink cosmopolitan, made him smile. Once Denny had ordered a soda, they all turned to watch the people.

  Lorenzo gave him a wicked grin over the rim of his martini glass. “See anyone you like?”

  “Not yet.”

  Denny shrugged. “Give it time.”

  They stood at the bar for an hour, watching people and making small talk. After a while, Tom couldn’t help but notice the way Lorenzo eyed the dance floor. His friend loved to dance.

  Not wanting them to feel they had to babysit him all night, Tom nudged Lorenzo. “Why don’t you two hit the dance floor? I’ll be fine right here.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t want to leave you here all by yourself.”

  He laughed at that. “I’m hardly by myself. There are people all over the place.”

  “All right. Come on, lover.” Lorenzo held his hand out to Denny, who took it with a grin. They headed for the dance floor. Over his shoulder, Lorenzo called, “Have fun, darling. Text me if you decide to leave with some young stud.”

  Tom rolled his eyes. Yeah, right. His leaving with some young stud was about as likely as him winning the lottery.

  * * * *

  The persistent ring of his cell phone jerked Ian from a pleasant doze. He sat up in bed, blinking in irritation. When the sound stopped, he thought he’d escaped having to answer. Unfortunately, it started up again a few minutes later. A quick glance at the display showed his sister’s number. He grimaced and flipped the phone open.

  “Hey, sis.”

  “Ian Douglas Abernathy, where have you been? I’ve been trying to call you for hours!”

  Ian held the phone away from his ear to mute the sound of Fiona’s angry voice. “I was sleeping, Fi. Give me a break.”

  His sister sighed. “I’m sorry. I was just worried about you. You were supposed to be at Mom’s hours ago.”

  “Shit! I forgot. Was she pissed?” Ian looked at the clock—six p.m. He’d been expected at their mother’s at noon for lunch. Their family met for a meal almost every week, either on Saturday or Sunday. Of course, when he went to bed at eight a.m. after a full day at work and a whole night of partying, it was hard to maintain a normal schedule.

  Fiona sighed again, louder this time. “No, but she was worried. We all were, especially when no one could get you on the phone. Were you out late again last night?”

  Ian didn’t want to answer. It was his life, and he could do whatever he wanted. He was twenty-seven years old, for God’s sake. Still, she was his big sister. Years of conditioning made him admit, “Yeah.”

  Sometimes being the baby of six kids was a huge pain in the ass.

  Her voice rose. “God, Ian! You were at one of those clubs, weren’t you? At least tell me you didn’t bring someone home.”

  “I didn’t bring someone home.” He wasn’t lying. He’d gone to the guy’s place. He never brought people home.

  There was a long pause as she mulled over the words. Of course, she got his meaning. “I love you, but lately you’ve been acting like a total whore.”

  Stung, he snapped right back at her. “I’m not a whore. Nobody’s paying me.”

  Her retort was quick and harsh. “Maybe they should be. You could quit your day job.”

  He flinched. What could he say to that? He liked sex, and men. So what? Why was Fiona making such a big deal about it? With effort, he managed to keep his voice level. “Low blow, sis.”

  Fiona’s voice softened. “I’m sorry. I’m just worried about you. Don’t you want something more for yourself?”

  He knew all his siblings wanted him to settle down with one guy and live a happy little monogamous life like theirs. He’d learned the hard way not everyone go
t a happily-ever-after. “I’m happy the way I am. Or I would be, if you’d leave me alone. Sorry about this morning. I’ll be there next time, I promise.”

  She tried to say something else, but he interrupted. “I’ve got to go. Talk to you soon.”

  Flipping the phone closed, he stared at the wall for a long moment. The room felt cold and empty, like him. He hated the feeling, hated the way he started to think every time he was alone. He needed a distraction.

  He got out of bed and went to the closet to get dressed.

  Chapter Two

  Tom placed the empty cup from his rum and Coke on the bar. Before he could order another, the bartender set one in front of him. He nodded his thanks and paid the man, adding on a generous tip. He’d need all the fortification he could get if he planned to talk to anyone.

  So far, he hadn’t seen anyone he really wanted to talk to. His conversations to this point had consisted of accepting the apologies of a couple of drunk men who’d run into him and telling another guy where the bathroom was. Most of the men he’d seen so far were drunk or with someone. He sighed. Maybe he was too old for the bar scene. Thirty-four hadn’t seemed terribly old earlier in the day.

  “Deep thoughts?”

  Startled, Tom turned toward the voice. A young man—mid-twenties, probably—stood at the bar to his right. The young man was stunning—slim, blond, dark-eyed, and smiling. At him? He had the urge to look around or say “Me?” but managed to restrain himself. Instead, he gave the man a tentative smile. “Not really. I was wondering if I should leave.”

  The blond leant in and rested his fingertips on Tom’s sleeve, his lips pursing into a little pout. “You can’t leave now. I just got here.”

  Now he really wanted to look around and see who this guy thought he was talking to. Maybe the man had horrible vision, or was drunk. He didn’t seem drunk, though. And he was gorgeous. With a mental shrug, Tom played along. “True. I guess I’d better stay a while then, to be polite.”

  The pout melted into another smile. “Politeness is very important. I’m Ian, by the way.”

  “Tom.” He held out his hand, and they shook. Ian’s hand was slender and cold, but his grip was strong.

  For a few minutes, they talked of unimportant things. Ian ordered a screwdriver, which he slammed back quickly. Then he pushed the cup away and turned to Tom, his eyes bright. “Want to dance?”

  The thought of dancing brought his nerves surging back, but he nodded. “Sure.”

  Ian took his hand and led him to the dance floor. The small space had grown crowded since he arrived. In moments, they were swallowed up by the crowd. The bodies all around them pushed them closer together, but Ian didn’t seem to mind. He danced right up against Tom, his moves self-assured and sensual. All Tom could do was try his best to move to the beat and hope he didn’t look like a complete idiot.

  After the first song, Ian moved closer, twining his arms around Tom’s neck. “Is this okay?”

  This was very okay. Tom brought his arms up to loop around Ian’s waist, savouring the smaller man’s warmth and the feel of his slimly muscled body. It had been such a long time since he’d touched anyone in anything other than a friendly manner. He’d missed touch, a lot.

  Minutes passed. The song blended into another, and another. The beats changed, but Ian didn’t move away. If anything, the younger man moved in closer.

  When Ian snuggled into him, Tom closed his eyes, willing his body to behave. Of course, his dick had a mind of its own. The way Ian rubbed against him was impossible to ignore. He attempted to focus on something else. Desperate, he tried conversation. “Do you come here often?” Lame, lame, lame. Could he be any more clichéd?

  Ian’s quiet laugh didn’t sound mocking. “Sometimes. I go to clubs more often than bars, though. What about you?”

  The truth slipped out, unbidden and very uncool. “It’s been a long time since I came to a place like this. I feel like I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  Ian grinned up at him. “You’re doing fine so far.” In the flickering lights of the dance floor, Tom could see Ian’s eyes were a deep, dark blue.

  The song changed again, to something with a driving, sensual beat. Ian’s grin faded into an intent look, and he ground his body against Tom’s in a dance move that looked as sexy as it felt. Tom’s cock went from interested to rock hard in about five seconds.

  He shivered as Ian’s lips brushed against his ear. “You seem to have developed a bit of a problem. I could help you with that.” Ian stepped back enough to lower his hand between them and brush his palm over Tom’s erection.

  Tom jerked, startled. “What?” Was Ian really offering what he thought?

  Pressing his palm harder against Tom’s cock, Ian gave him a sly smile. “I think I’ve had enough dancing for one night. Let me take care of this for you.”

  Tom pushed into the touch before he even thought. Ian’s hand felt good. Too good. The sensation of a hand other than his own must have rendered him temporarily insane. There was no other explanation for why he nodded rather than saying no thanks.

  A quick glance around the dance floor revealed Lorenzo and Denny not far away. Lorenzo happened to look in their direction just then. Tom jerked his head towards the door to indicate he was leaving. Lorenzo waved, smirking.

  One short, near-silent cab ride later, Tom and Ian arrived at Tom’s house. Tom would have spent the ride wondering what the hell was wrong with him, if Ian hadn’t been caressing his thigh the whole time. Instead, he’d watched Ian’s slim fingers slide closer and closer to his cock without ever touching. The exquisite torture kept him on the knife-edge of arousal.

  The instant they reached his house, he tossed some money at the cabbie and led Ian inside.

  There wasn’t any time to be anxious about his lack of recent experience, or to wonder if he was making a huge mistake. He shut the door behind them, locked it, and Ian kissed him. The press of lips against his, soft yet firm, made him melt. Ian’s hands trailing up his chest left blazing heat in their wake.

  Then Ian began to unbutton Tom’s shirt. Tom caught his hands. “Wait.” He wanted to say they should slow down, but the words wouldn’t come. He’d been alone so long, and Ian felt incredible against him. He wanted more. “Not here.”

  “Where?” Undeterred, Ian pulled his hands free and unbuttoned another button.

  Oh, fuck. What was the question? “Bedroom.”

  Somehow they managed to move the short distance from the living room to the bedroom. Tom’s shirt ended up on the floor in the hallway, but they made it. Tom stripped off Ian’s sweater. Beneath his shirt, Ian was slim but all muscle.

  “God, you’re sexy.” Tom paused to stroke Ian’s taut stomach.

  “And you’ve got too many clothes on.” Impatient, Ian grabbed the hem of Tom’s white undershirt and yanked it over his head.

  Mostly bare to Ian’s gaze, Tom hunched his shoulders a little. Would Ian like what he saw? His stomach was nowhere near as flat as Ian’s. Maybe he should have started working out before he decided to hit the dating scene again.

  Ian ran his fingertips lightly over Tom’s shoulders and chest. “Mm, nice. But you’re still wearing too many clothes.”

  After that, they didn’t talk much. They fell into the bed together, kissing and touching. Every little caress fired Tom’s blood, making him hotter and hotter.

  Wanting to give at least some of the feeling back to Ian, Tom paid special attention to what made the man moan and shiver. He sucked and licked his way down Ian’s neck and chest, pausing at his nipples and the cobbled muscles of his stomach. Ian whimpered when Tom licked along the waistband of his jeans.

  Encouraged, Tom slipped the button free and opened Ian’s jeans. Ian was bare underneath. His cock sprang free, long and slim and dark with arousal. Tom stroked a finger over the silky-smooth skin, savouring the way Ian gasped and writhed. He leant closer, following his finger’s path with his tongue.

  Ian arched towards him. “God, p
lease, more.”

  “More of this? Or something else?” Tom took the tip of Ian’s erection into his mouth, sucked, and then released it. At Ian’s low cry, he repeated the motion. For a moment, he forgot his intention to tease, lost in the salt-musk flavour and Ian’s sweet responsiveness. He’d almost forgotten how heady making someone else feel good could be.

  Ian’s strong fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. “Mm, that’s good.” Then Ian tugged his hair lightly, pulling him away.

  Tom frowned, but before he could say a word, Ian’s lips curved into a slow, sexy smile. “I want you fucking me when I come.”

  Oh, God. He wanted that too. A tiny squeak slipped out before he could hold the sound in. He rolled onto his back and stripped his pants off. Next to him, Ian did the same, pausing to fish a couple of condoms out of his jeans pocket.

  Everything happened fast after that. Ian ripped one of the condom packets open and rolled the thin latex over Tom’s cock. Then he got on his hands and knees and eyed Tom hungrily over his shoulder.

  Tom preferred face-to-face, but he wasn’t about to complain. The sight of Ian’s ass offered up to him was nearly enough to make him come on its own. He almost yanked the nightstand drawer off its tracks in his hurry to get the lube. In his haste, he poured a bit more than he wanted.

  Stifling the urge to laugh at his own eagerness, he slicked up his cock. He teased Ian’s tight hole with a lubed finger.

  Ian shook under his touch. “No, just fuck me.”

  Even in his current state, Tom didn’t know if that was such a good idea. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You won’t. Please.” Ian’s head dropped to the bed, and he pushed back towards Tom.

  With a groan of surrender, Tom gripped Ian’s slim hips and pressed forward. At first, the tight resistance of Ian’s body concerned him, but he forged ahead because Ian had asked him to. Ian bore down and pushed back towards him again, and he was in. Fully seated, his balls against Ian’s ass, Tom gasped at the heat and almost too-tight grip on his cock.