One Night With You

An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com

One Night with You

ISBN 9781419910791

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

One Night with You Copyright© 2007 Shiloh Walker

Edited by Pamela Campbell.

Cover art by Syneca.

Electronic book Publication May 2007

This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

Content Advisory:

                                                  S – ENSUOUS

                                                  E – ROTIC

                                                  X – TREME

Ellora’s Cave Publishing offers three levels of Romantica™ reading entertainment: S (S-ensuous), E (E-rotic), and X (X-treme).

The following material contains graphic sexual content meant for mature readers. This story has been rated E–rotic.

S-
ensuous
love scenes are explicit and leave nothing to the imagination.

E-
rotic
love scenes are explicit, leave nothing to the imagination, and are high in volume per the overall word count. E-rated titles might contain material that some readers find objectionable—in other words, almost anything goes, sexually. E-rated titles are the most graphic titles we carry in terms of both sexual language and descriptiveness in these works of literature.

X-
treme
titles differ from E-rated titles only in plot premise and storyline execution. Stories designated with the letter X tend to contain difficult or controversial subject matter not for the faint of heart.

ONE NIGHT WITH YOU

Shiloh Walker

Trademarks Acknowledgement

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

Canon EOS Rebel: Canon Kabushiki Kaisha Corporation

Chapter One

How could a simple look make her feel like that?

Shifting around in the chair, Bo hoped he couldn’t tell how nervous she was. False hope—Logan always seemed to know how she felt. He always had. But she could pretend, right? Pretend that she felt totally comfortable in the dark, quiet Lexington restaurant with its flickering candlelight and soft music. Pretend that she didn’t feel self-conscious in the red silk that draped her body. Pretend that she knew how to handle the looks he kept giving her.

If she faked it long enough, maybe she could actually convince herself it was all true. That she knew how to wear silk and sip wine and smile a sexy little smile at the gorgeous man staring at her. But she didn’t think it was going to happen.

Bo was more comfortable wearing jeans and a tank top while she worked a photo shoot. She’d rather the silk be on some bone-skinny model she saw through her camera lens instead of on her. She’d rather be riding through rain and snow on her dad’s ranch and taking pictures of a newborn foal—even helping to deliver it. She’d take the blood and gore and afterbirth or dealing with demanding models and demanding agents. She’d take those experiences any day of the week over this one.

At least she knew how to handle those.

“You don’t have to look so nervous.”

Bo didn’t see the point in lying. She looked at Logan and smiled a little. “I’m not used to this kind of place, that’s all.” Okay, so maybe that wasn’t the complete truth but that wasn’t exactly lying, was it? Because there was no way she was going to tell Logan that he was the real reason she was so nervous. He had a bad habit of making her feel like she was still the skinny teenager she’d been when they had first met instead of twenty-one years old.

Logan glanced around and smiled a little. “I thought about going to the Roadhouse but they don’t have crème brulee.”

Even though her belly was pleasantly full from dinner, the thought of crème brulee had her mouth watering. “You got me,” Bo said with a grin.

“You and your sweet tooth.” The waiter showed up and Bo sipped her wine in silence while he ordered. Just one dessert.

As the waiter walked away, she looked at Logan and cocked a brow. “I hope you don’t think I’m sharing.”

His pale brown eyes dropped to her mouth and that nervousness returned. “I’m not hungry for dessert.” Bo thought the look on his face said the opposite. He looked like he was starving but she had a weird feeling he wasn’t interested in food.

* * * * *

He was hungry, all right but food was the last thing on his mind. Well, maybe not the complete last thing. He could picture up some very worthwhile fantasies involving the crème brulee and Bo’s mouth.

Watching her eat the rich dessert had him as hard as if she had reached over and wrapped her hand around his cock. Of course, just watching Bo do anything did that. She could be sitting at a table doing yearly taxes and he’d be hard. But the look in her eyes when she had taken that first bite…her lashes had fluttered closed and she had moaned like a woman on the brink of climax.

That thought only made his problem worse. He was dying to get her out of here, get her someplace where he could see how she really sounded when she came. Get her someplace quiet so he could strip that red silk away and touch her… And if he kept thinking like that, he was going to be stuck in this chair for a while.

He had plans for the rest of the night and they didn’t include sitting here waiting for a hard-on to subside.

Another soft hmmmmm of pleasure escaped Bo’s lips and Logan’s control snapped. He reached for his wallet and dug out a couple of bills. The waiter saw him and started in his direction but Logan had no desire to wait for him. Bo looked up at him as he stood over her chair. The fork was still between her lips. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear she was doing it on purpose when she slowly slid it out, taking time to lick it clean. She glanced down at the dessert in front of her and said, “I’m not done.”

“Too bad. The way you are with sweets, you’d lick the bowl clean if I let you,” Logan growled. He pulled the chair back and held out a hand. When she stood, he pulled her up against him and slid an arm around her waist. Their gazes met and held as he lowered his mouth.

She tasted of the rich, decadent dessert, wine and heat. Sheer, unadulterated heat. Desire and hesitation, curiosity and want—there were a million contradictions in her kiss and it was enough to drive him mad. Control snapped. He could feel it, all but hear it in the little cracking noises as she leaned into him. One fisted hand lay against his chest, clutching the lapel of his suit. Through the layers of clothing, he felt the warm weight of her breasts, the soft little curve of her belly—

“Ahem.”

Logan tore his mouth away from hers and looked at the waiter. “Shit,” he muttered.

Bo’s spiky black lashes lifted, revealing smoky gray eyes fogged with desire. She moaned a little and leaned toward him again for just a second. Then it was like she realized where they were. She blushed, the soft pink flush starting at the low neckline of her dress and spreading upward to her face.

Without saying a word, Logan took her hand and led her out of the restaurant. Home hadn’t ever seemed so far away.

The drive to the old farmhouse where Logan lived normally took thirty minutes. This time, it took him less than twenty, speeding most of the way, the gas pedal nearly pressed flat against the floor. “Are you in a hurry?” Bo asked as she looked out the window.

He just glanced at her.

In the faint light coming off the dash, he saw her eyes widen, watched as her lips parted and she licked them nervously.
Moving too fast
,
he told himself and he wasn’t thinking about the speed limit either.
Slow down
.
Slow down
.

When he got to their street, instead of taking the long winding drive to her house, he took the shorter paved one to his. Bo glanced over her shoulder toward her home but didn’t say anything. He wasn’t going to do anything stupid. At least he hoped not. Logan had a little more control than that. He thought.

He hoped.

But when Bo accepted his hand a few minutes later, Logan knew he was kidding himself. He helped her from the car but once she stood in front of him, he didn’t let go. Instead, he rubbed his thumb back and forth over her soft palm and stared at her.

Her heart-shaped face tipped up so she could look at him. Thick black lashes framed a pair of wide, misty gray eyes. She’d cut her hair. Once, her thick black hair had fallen nearly to her waist and Logan had had a hundred dreams where that hair had fallen around them while she straddled him and rode him through orgasm after orgasm. A thousand dreams where he fisted his hands in the thick silk.

It was short now. Spiky short, a little longer on top, with a tousled look. It suited her. Even he had to admit that, though he still daydreamed about how she would look, kneeling in front of him, that silky hair falling around her shoulders while she took his cock into her mouth.

Logan stared at her as he trailed the fingers of his other hand up her other arm, over her shoulder. He pressed the flat of his palm against the soft skin of her collarbone, his thumb resting in the delicate notch at her throat, his fingers curving over the slope of her neck.

Her lashes drooped low, shielding her eyes from him. He wanted to see them. Had to see them. Had to know if he had even half the effect on her that she had on him.

“Look at me, Bo.” Her lashes lifted and he found himself lost in the smoky, innocent seduction he saw in her eyes. His hands tensed. He moved into her, his weight pressing her up against the side of his car. Her mouth opened as his came crashing down on hers.

He swallowed the ragged groan and thrust his tongue into her mouth. Under his hand, he could feel the pulse in her neck. It beat against his palm—wild and erratic. He kept that hand pressed against her neck and skimmed the other up her side. When he cupped her breast, Bo’s pulse kicked up a little and she gave one soft, erotic little groan before arching into his hand.

Bo had once shot some pictures of a tornado as it cut through the Kentucky countryside. The wild power of it had been exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. The destruction it left behind had been heartbreaking. If you threw some fire into the mixture, that just might sum up how it felt having Logan touch her. Exhilarating, terrifying, seductive and destructive. He had one hand at her neck, the other cupping her breast and the heavy, solid weight of his body pressing into hers.

Bo wasn’t a virgin. She’d had one semi-serious boyfriend since she’d left home for college and she had thought she knew how arousal felt. She was so fricking wrong. This kind of arousal was devastating in its intensity. Mind-blowing. Logan pushed his knee between her thighs and Bo automatically tightened hers. He pushed up and her dress rode up her thighs, exposing them to the chilly night air. She barely noticed the cold. She was too focused on the heat of his body and trying to breathe. He slid a hand down her side, cupping the curve of her hip. Mindless, Bo rocked against his thigh. Her panties—already wet—slid slickly against her flesh.

“Bo—”

She moaned and turned her head, trying to catch his mouth with hers. He kissed her back, a deep, hot kiss that stole her breath. The hand at her neck slid around and fisted in the short choppy strands of her hair. He pulled, arching her head back. Logan’s mouth left her but he didn’t pull away, not completely. His lips pressed against her neck, followed by his teeth as he bit her. The feel of his mouth against the sensitive flesh there was like throwing a match on something combustible. Bo could feel herself exploding.

His hand tightened on her hip as if he knew what was happening and his mouth came back up, smothering her scream with his lips. He shifted against her, cupping her ass in both hands and wedging his hips between her thighs. He pressed against her. Her panties were so wet, she might as well not even be wearing them for all the protection they provided. He rocked against her and Bo shattered.