NYC Angels: One Night in Manhattan

His smiling handsome face.

Maybe she should think twice about bringing him into her apartment because no man could be as handsome as he without having made some pact with the devil, right? Maybe she should warn him that she wouldn’t be available for virginal sacrifice as she’d gone down that bumpy road back in high school and had the emotional scars to prove it.

The thought of Clay, the only man she’d ever let close, gave her pause.

“Let Clay be a lesson to you, Olivia. Don’t trust any man. Not ever.”

Her mother’s words of advice reverberated inside her head, and, hands shaking, she repeatedly failed to get the key into the deadbolt.

“Here, let me,” Brandon offered, his hand moving low on her back and the other reaching for the key. “I’m making you nervous, aren’t I?”

“A little,” she answered, handing him her key and stepping back to where they weren’t touching. Touching Brandon did funny things to her. Like send pleasurable shivers down her spine and drown out her mother’s voice.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Olivia. Surely, you know that.” He pushed the door open, stared into her eyes. He traced his finger along her cheek, leaving a tingly path that stole her breath and left her longing for more touches, more tingly paths that led to internal havoc and mindless pleasure.

“Nor will I do anything that you don’t want me to do.”

That might not limit his options as she had a long list of things she wanted him to do to her. A very long list that was growing by the second.

He brushed her hair away from her face, tucked the long wayward strands behind her ear. “If you don’t feel comfortable with me coming inside, I’ll kiss you goodnight and leave.”

Was that what she wanted?

The kiss definitely. His leaving?

She didn’t want him to go, but her mother’s voice had echoed through her mind and wouldn’t be quiet.

“Men will steal the best years of your life and leave you with nothing more than broken dreams and a lot of if-onlys.”

If she sent him away, she’d be filled with if-onlys.

If only she were brave enough to take what she wanted, even for just a single night.

If only she were the kind of woman who could bask in the way Brandon made her feel.

Beautiful. Sexy. Smart. Witty. Desirable. Wanted.

She sucked in a lungful of air, met his gaze. “What do you want from me?”

He gave a low laugh. “You really have to ask?”

She didn’t, but she needed to hear him say the words, to have his voice, his words echoing through her mind rather than her mother’s.

“I want you, Olivia.” His desire-filled gaze conveyed that truth even more clearly than his words and the way his hand caressed her lower back. “I want to kiss your lips, your face, your throat. I want to thread my fingers into your amazing hair and breathe in everything about you.”

As if he could resist no longer, he twined a long strand around his finger. They stared at the contrast between her black hair and his smooth skin.

“I want to make love to you all night, Olivia.” His voice came out a hoarse whisper and his mouth lowered to hers. A soft caress of his lips against hers. Gentle, barely touching, testing, tasting, lingering as if he couldn’t quite bring himself to separate his mouth from hers. “Over and over and over until we both collapse into exhaustion.” His eyes dark and full of desire, his gaze met hers. “Then I want to do it all over again.”

Goodbye, Momma. Hello, Hormones.

Head spinning with giddy dizziness, Olivia took his hand and laced it with hers. His palm was warm, smooth, steady against hers and all she could think was how much this beautiful man made every cell in her body jump to life.

She pulled him into her apartment, closed the door, and latched the deadbolt. Leaning back against her door, she met his gaze and told him the truth. “I want you to do exactly what you just said. All of it. Now. Please.”

***

“What are you so chipper about? Good night?”

Pouring a cup of coffee in the neurology department’s small break room, Brandon glanced at Ryan, then kept right on whistling an upbeat tune.

Great night. Phenomenal.

Although his friends may have seen him leave the bar with Olivia, what had happened afterward was no one but his and Olivia’s business. So, he just said, “Every night of life is a good night.”

“A diplomatic answer if I ever heard one.” Ryan laughed and dumped a packet of cream into his coffee. “You going to see her again?”

Now there was the kicker. Mostly because he’d like to see Olivia again, but they’d agreed on just the one night. They’d said goodbye just before dawn when he’d reluctantly crawled out of her bed and walked the two blocks to his apartment.

With more than a little regret, but knowing ending things as they had was what was best for Olivia in the long run, Brandon shook his head.

“A pity,” Ryan mused, taking a cautious sip of the steaming liquid. “You two seemed to really hit it off.”

Oh, they’d hit it off all right. Right into orbit, time and again. Never in his life had he connected with a woman the way he had the night before. Not physically or mentally or on any level.

“You were watching us?”

“Everyone was watching you. You might have noticed except you two couldn’t take your eyes, or hands, off each other. None of us have ever seen you so entranced by a woman.” Ryan grinned, then added, “Or seen you fed by a woman.”