Box of 1Night Stands: 21 Sizzling Nights

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  This boxed set is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the authors’ imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Box of 1Night Stands: 21 Sizzling Nights

  ISBN: 978-1-61333-725-7

  Copyright © 2014 by Various Authors

  All Rights Reserved.

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Decadent Publishing Company, LLC

  Look for us online at:

  www.decadentpublishing.com

  Box of 1Night Stands

  21 Sizzling Nights

  Featuring…

  Valerie Mann

  Diane Alberts

  Stephanie Beck

  Liz Crowe

  Becca Dale

  Sara Daniel

  Dominique Eastwick

  L.J. Garland

  Desiree Holt

  D.L. Jackson

  Taryn Kincaid

  Mahalia Levey

  Heather Long

  J.M. Madden

  Virginia Nelson

  Jennifer Probst

  Kate Richards

  Rebecca Royce

  Olivia Starke

  Jessica E. Subject

  Kali Willows

  Table of Contents

  To Feel Again - Valerie Mann

  Broken – Diane Alberts

  Panties Optional – Stephanie Beck

  Caught Offside – Liz Crowe

  Erotic Healing – Becca Dale

  One Night With the Bride – Sara Daniel

  Strawberry Kisses – Dominique Eastwick

  Dead or Alive – L.J. Garland

  Night Mission – Desiree Holt

  My Boogie Woogie Bugle Guy – D.L. Jackson

  In From the Cold – Taryn Kincaid

  Trading Up – Mahalia Levey

  Her Marine – Heather Long

  Wet Dream – J.M. Madden

  Dom of the Dead – Virginia Nelson

  Catch Me – Jennifer Probst

  The Virgin and the Playboy – Kate Richards

  Paging Dr. Wolf – Rebecca Royce

  Familiar Desires – Olivia Starke

  Satin Sheets in Space – Jessica E. Subject

  Dragon Temptation – Kali Willows

  To Feel Again

  A 1Night Stand Story

  By

  Valerie Mann

  Also by Valerie Mann

  Hey You

  First Comes Marriage

  ~Dedication~

  To my besties, KR, OS, BD and the rest. You know who you are.

  Prologue

  “I need a favor, my dear.” Eve paused as the nonstop tapping of a keyboard on the other end of the line echoed in her ear.

  Such a driven man. He needs to find an outlet. Some relief, or at the very least, a distraction from his relentless, busy schedule.

  A deep voice finally resonated with resigned impatience. “What can I do for you, Eve?”

  “I have a client with a very…special request. I’d like your help.” She paused, already knowing what the man’s response would be. A big, fat no fucking way. Not that the reply would deter her in the slightest. Once she set her sights on satisfying her clients, nothing kept her from that goal. Which made her the very best at what she did.

  He didn’t bother to hide a sarcastic snort. “I’m afraid to ask. Last time you called with a ‘special request,’ I had to pay my maintenance guys overtime to reinforce hooks in the ceiling. I still don’t want to know what that was about.”

  “Not that I’d tell you anyway. But, I promise no hooks this time.” She hesitated, aware of the need to tread carefully. “Jackson, this woman’s profile is very sad. She lost her fiancé in Afghanistan nearly a year ago. She misses him desperately and has had a difficult time moving on.”

  More tapping. Obviously distracted, Jack grunted a non-committal, “Uh, huh.”

  “She feels a one-night stand with a man similar to her fiancé would bring her some closure.”

  The rapid tapping paused. “Hasn’t she heard of counseling?” What sounded like the scraping shuffle of a phone being readjusted filtered over the line. “And how does fucking a stranger help with the grieving process?”

  Eve tsked. “Honestly, Jackson, you Americans and your blunt vulgarities. Of course she’s had counseling. I wouldn’t consider honoring her request otherwise.”

  He tapped some more. “Your point, Eve? I’m busy. What’s the favor?”

  She laughed. This was going to be so much fun. “I’m looking for her perfect one-night lover. She emailed her fiancé’s picture along with her profile. He was tall, with short black hair, dark eyes, Mediterranean coloring...very handsome.” And a dead ringer for someone else we know.

  Silence curled in the airwaves between them for several, long seconds. Jackson was a smart man, it wouldn’t take him long to—

  “No. Fucking. Way.”

  “Jackson, this would be a huge favor.”

  “You’re out of your mind, Evangeline. I let you use my hotel for your matchmaking business, but that agreement did not include my participation.”

  “I brought over a million dollars in revenue to your hotel last year,” she reminded him. “Actually, closer to a million five.” And I can take that money elsewhere hung unspoken between them. She hated to pull the financial card, but business was business as her mentor and partner, Simon, always reminded her.

  Jackson didn’t make a sound for several moments. But, money talks, savvy businessmen listen, and she could almost hear the wheels turning in his head. A chair creaked, and she pictured him swiveling around to stare out his office window at the Las Vegas panorama and desert beyond.

  Finally, he sighed, a mixture of frustration and defeat. “That’s dirty pool, even for you, Eve. You know the economy sucks right now.”

  Bingo. She wanted to clap her hands with delight. “Yes, it does.”

  “I won’t sleep with her.”

  Evangeline ignored the protest and scrolled down the computer screen to the young woman’s file picture. Crystal blue eyes, natural blonde hair past her shoulders, healthy tan, and a toned but curvaceous figure screamed California girl. Eve had searched for the perfect woman for lonely, overworked Jackson for a very long time, and this one would look gorgeous on his arm. And, in his bed.

  “She’s very lovely.”

  “She’d better be.” His voice dropped an octave. “And, I’m still not sleeping with her. Eve tried to interrupt. “But, for the sake of our business relationship, I will do this favor for you. Once.”

  “But of course, my dear.” She tipped back in her chair, trying to keep the Cheshire-cat grin out of her voice. “That’s all I’m asking.”

  The keyboard tapped on the other side of town again in earnest, Jackson’s mind obviously moving on to other, more important things. Madame Evangeline understood his drive, and accepted the unspoken dismissal. She and the overworked man were very similar people, both driven by the businesses they loved. “I’ll email you with the details.”

  ***

  Jesus, what had he just agreed to? Jack Castillo tossed the phone back on his desk and leaned back in his chair wit
h a curse. The last thing he needed was a date with one of Evangeline’s prospects. He didn’t care how beautiful the woman might be, he led a complicated, busy life and didn’t have time to spend the evening, not to mention an entire night, with a stranger. And he liked to find his own women, thank you very much.

  But Eve maneuvered him right into agreement, quite handily, in fact. It was one thing that she’d charmed him into agreeing to allow her to use his hotels for her 1NightStand dating service’s rendezvous. Not that he actually minded. She provided his hotels with a steady stream of income in return for a safe place for her clients to meet for their dates. What they chose to do once they got there was no different than what thousands of couples did every year in Las Vegas. What happens in Vegas….

  He simply couldn’t figure out how he’d become a client. In his own hotel.

  Damn.

  Chapter One

  Leah slipped the plastic card in the lock, entered the hotel room, and blew out an impressed little whistle. She ran a hand along the watered silk wallpaper near the door. Luxury and Castillo Hotels were synonymous, and this room didn’t disappoint, all part of the expensive-and-hopefully-worth-it 1NightStand experience. Madame Eve promised only the best for her clients.

  A one-night stand...not something Leah ever contemplated she’d experience, let alone pay for.

  “You can do this,” she whispered, fighting the intense urge to make a run for the elevator and ditch the whole rendezvous.

  Tossing the key card on the nearby secretary desk, she took stock of the large suite. Cream, beige and chocolate browns dominated, both warm and inviting. She spied an enormous bathroom through an open door off to her left and wandered over to peer in. Heavens, the Jacuzzi was big enough to swim laps in. Turning back, she found the heavy drapes open to reveal the entire city of Las Vegas glittering below. Underneath the gigantic flat screen TV on the far wall sat a fully-equipped wet bar. Perfect. Maybe a cocktail or two could persuade the butterflies in her stomach to land. What had she been thinking, signing up for a night of sex with a stranger? If her therapist knew what she’d arranged for the evening, he’d probably fire her.

  Did therapists even do such a thing?

  What she couldn’t ignore any longer was the room's focal point, a California-king, three foot high bed. As big as the room was, the bed dwarfed it—in spades. And, at some point in the next few hours, she’d be on that bed, in that bed, rolling around having hot, sweaty sex with a man she didn’t know.

  Bending down, she stepped out of one of the stilettos she’d earlier thought were such a great idea to wear. Easing the other one off, she groaned and wiggled her toes in the plush carpet. The evil things weren’t touching her feet again before she left. Not even four-inch stilettos hid her short stature—vertically challenged as the women in her family liked to call their common genetics. And what did it matter when you spent the evening horizontal? That’s how the evening would end anyway…horizontally. She shivered.

  Eyeing the bed again, she approached it and frowned. How on earth would she gracefully get on that thing? Easing the oversize purse off her shoulder, she laid it on the ocean of mattress and climbed up. Her legs dangled over the edge and she resisted the urge to swing them like a kid. Instead, she pulled the bag closer and unzipped it, staring in at the contents. Wallet, cell phone, breath mints, passport.

  Condoms.

  Lucky Stiff brand—when opportunity strikes, we’ve got you covered!

  Leah winced at the gift from her sister. Leaning over, she yanked the nightstand drawer open and tossed the box in where it landed next to the Gideon bible.

  Oh, the irony.

  You Sexy Thing sang from the bottom of her handbag, piercing the quiet. She jumped, fumbled for her cell phone then jabbed the talk button.

  “Since you answered, I’m assuming you’re alone and still dressed.”

  Leah had to laugh. If anyone could find the humor in this ludicrous and completely out-of-character-for-Leah situation, it would be her sister, Lana. “Yes, on both counts.”

  “No sign of Prince Charming yet?”

  Leah laid back on the thick coverlet and stared at the ceiling. “No. But, I got here early.”

  Lana’s hesitation echoed over the airwaves. “It’s not too late to call this off, you know.”

  Leah shook her head. “Not happening. I need to let Mark go and move on with my life. This is how I choose to do it.”

  Lana sighed. “Sleeping with a stranger isn’t the most ideal way, honey.”

  God, how many times would she and her little sister have this conversation? Leah tuned out the same-shit-different-day dialogue and began to count the number of tiles in the ceiling. Wondered why there were steel hooks up there.

  “…afraid this will hurt more than it helps,” Lana droned.

  A firm knock on the door jolted Leah out of her distracted state. Bolting upright in alarm, she dropped the phone before tumbling gracelessly off the gargantuan bed.

  “Damn.” She tried to breathe around the sudden hammering of her heart. Lana’s voice continued somewhere under the bed and Leah fished around past the dust ruffle for the phone before locating it near the wall. She clutched it to her ear like a lifeline, and cut her sister off mid-sentence. “Oh, my God, Lannie—he’s here.”

  Lana waited a beat before replying in a rush, “It’s not too late. Tell him you’ve changed your mind.”

  Another knock sounded and Leah jumped again. Pressing a hand to her heart, she whispered, “No. I need to do this.”

  “Don’t be silly! He’ll understand if you don’t—”

  “I’ve got to go, Lannie. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Flipping the phone shut, she muted the volume and set it on the nightstand. Then, on auto-pilot, she crossed the room and unlocked the door.

  Chapter Two

  Holy shit.

  Evangeline had promised a lovely woman—but she never hinted she’d be sending Malibu Barbie. In a split second, Jackson’s brain registered every perfect detail of the living doll—from the long, blonde hair, perky breasts and hour-glass waist, to the tanned legs he had no problem picturing wrapped around his ass while he…yeah, that wasn’t going to happen.

  But damn, the image couldn’t be more pleasant.

  Robin’s-egg blue eyes, open so wide the whites showed, stared up at him. Way up at him—hell, the woman took petite to a whole new level. Typically, he preferred his woman tall enough so a stepladder wasn’t necessary to kiss him…but what did it matter when you were horizontal…not that horizontal was going to happen. But still….

  He cleared his throat. “Hello, Leah.”

  She nodded and backed up to let him pass. “You must be Jackson. Please come in.”

  Entering the room, he scanned it, noting the amenities with approval. Per his request, housekeeping had taken extra care with it, and made certain Juan, his club manager, stocked the mini-bar to his exact specifications. Or rather, Jackson had noted Leah’s preferences on the profile Eve had emailed him—crisp Argentinean Riesling—served chilled.

  Stopping in the middle of the room, he watched while Leah locked the door and flipped the security bar. Used to making lightning-quick observations in his business dealings, he noted the slight tremble of her fingers. Interesting. She’d initiated this one-night stand, paid for the privilege, so she obviously didn’t have a problem with the idea of screwing a stranger. But when she turned toward him, her expression of both determination and fragility surprised him.

  Her gaze traveled over him, brief but thorough, and he didn’t miss the extra millisecond of consideration she’d given his crotch. Too bad she wouldn’t be getting up close and personal with it. His cock hardened in hopeful response anyway.

  She met his eyes and blushed, the pink spreading in a lovely rush across her cheekbones. “Thank you for coming.” A dainty, nervous hand toyed with a single strand of tiny pearls resting at the base of her neck.

  Jackson gestured toward the small sitting area near the wind
ow. “Why don’t we sit down?”

  It was then he noticed her bare feet, small like the rest of her, with cotton-candy-pink toenails. She glided gracefully to the chair and once settled, perched on the edge of it, as if poised to take flight. He frowned, and an uncharacteristic, protective urge took over. As much as he didn’t agree with her reason for taking advantage of Madame Eve’s services, he also didn’t want Leah to regret it—or worse, be frightened of him. If what Eve told him was true, Leah’s last year had been nothing short of tragic. Worse—she wore loneliness like a badge.

  ***

  Dear God.

  The man possessed the same hot-as-sin sensuality Mark had. Tall frame, jet black hair, smooth olive skin, even the same almond-shaped, dark brown eyes. But the similarities ended there. Mark’s aura always carried a certain level of passive, yet attractively sensual boy-next-door. With that sweet but sexy aura, women gravitated toward him.

  Without a doubt, women gravitated toward Jackson as well. But he exuded dangerous, bad-boy virility and a touch of anger. He doesn’t want to be here. How puzzling. All suave and sophisticated, he definitely didn’t strike her as a man easily forced or persuaded to do something he didn’t want to do. So why had he agreed?

  With her blood pressure rising into the red zone, she forced a bland expression and inched until her butt met the cushioned back of the chair.

  “Thanks for coming,” she said, her tongue suddenly too large for her mouth.

  “You already thanked me.” He grinned, the sincere smile reaching his eyes, and causing her heart to do a funny pitter-pat. “But, you’re welcome.”