No Strings Read online

  Emma turned the corner and saw the little diner where she’d planned to meet Sarah for lunch. She saw her pretty redheaded friend sitting at a booth near the window and waved to her as she slipped inside and almost skipped to the booth where Sarah sat. Sarah, wearing one of her striking business suits, stood and gave her friend a hug.

  “You got laid,” Sarah declared, the second Emma sat down.

  “What? How do you know that?” Emma exclaimed.

  “Because you’re literally glowing. Radioactive glowing. So... Happy Fun Time was...happy?” Sarah sat, adjusting her expensive wool blazer. No doubt, she planned an afternoon of showing off business offices to corporate representatives.

  Emma wrinkled her nose. “God no. He was horrible. Probably a date rapist. Maybe a serial killer.”

  “Oh, no.” Sarah leaned forward. “Then don’t tell me you hooked up with your ex, because so help me...” Sarah was no fan of Devin’s. She’d once said he was about as exciting as watching someone else watch paint dry.

  “No! He’s in Seattle.” Emma shook her head furiously even as the waitress sat down waters in front of them and a couple of laminated menus. “No, another Nost candidate. Mr. X.”

  “Ooh. Mr. X. Mysterious. I like it. Have a picture?” Emma pulled up Mr. X’s profile on her phone and showed her friend. Sarah snatched the phone out of Emma’s hand.

  “No way.” She peered at Mr. X’s photograph. “I’m impressed.” Sarah bit her pink lip. “Now, this is what I’m talking about.” She handed Emma’s phone back. “Now...on to a new one tonight?” she half joked as she picked up the menu.

  “New one! No. I’m going to meet Mr. X again.”

  Sarah dropped the menu in her hands. “Emma. No Strings. No second dates!” Sarah shook her head. “Second dates just get...complicated.”

  Emma felt a little disappointment. “Why?”

  Sarah shook her head. “Because. Then, you start to almost expect to see them. Best to just keep it at a single date. Trust me. Guys are the worst. You think they’ll be able to cut things off easier than women, but sometimes, it’s just the opposite.”

  “What do you mean?” The waitress returned and quickly took their orders. Sarah opted for a lightly dressed salad, and Emma, feeling famished from all her exercise the night before, chose a hamburger and fries.

  “Just that. Last time I went on a second date, the guy online stalked me. Started leaving messages for me on Facebook. I had to eventually block him.” Sarah took a sip of water and shrugged. “He actually said he wanted to marry me!”

  “No way!” Emma shook her head. “I mean...what on earth did you do to him?”

  “What didn’t I do?” Sarah shrugged and laughed a little at her own joke. Her green eyes sparkled with mischief. “But he just couldn’t keep up with me. He was just too vanilla. Sweet, but there’s no way I would’ve wanted a long-term relationship with him.”

  “Well, I don’t mind if Mr. X turns into...more.” Emma thought of Mr. X’s strong hands, his sexy hazel eyes, the way he seemed to know her, even though they hadn’t known each other that long. She wouldn’t mind that turning into a regular thing.

  “No!” Sarah slapped her hand on the table. “Emma. We talked about this. You are just too quick to settle. That’s what happened with Devin, remember?”

  Emma nodded, reluctantly. “But Mr. X is nothing like Devin. They’re polar opposites.”

  “From the picture you showed me, I believe that much is true, but still. The whole point of this little exercise is to show you how many fish there are in the sea.”

  The waitress appeared then with their lunches, setting the plates in front of the women. Emma dug into her fries like a woman who hadn’t seen food in days.

  Sarah quirked an eyebrow. “Well, I can see Mr. X worked up an appetite in you.” Emma coughed.

  “You have no idea,” she said, between mouthfuls.

  “Well, then. Tell me. All the juicy bits!” Sarah leaned in, eager.

  * * *

  Later that afternoon, Emma sat at her computer and stared at the cursor. What on earth was she going to write? Nearly all of her date with Mr. X was...uh, X-rated. At least, the good parts were. She couldn’t imagine how her editor would even go for something so...graphic. After all, their online magazine was read mostly by working moms, not co-eds looking for the hottest tips for spicing up the old blowjob. She glanced at the handwritten note from Mr. X and felt a little shiver of anticipation. She’d see him again tonight.

  She didn’t even know his name!

  All the things he’d done to her and she had no idea what his first name was. More than anything, she wanted to find out. Yet, as she pulled up Google to start her search, she had no idea how to start. “Amazing hazel eyes and abs that won’t quit... Chicago?”

  “Mr. X Chicago?”

  Both of those searches pulled up beefcake photos and one news article about a TV pilot being shot in downtown.

  Argh. She searched Nost and Mr. X, but just got his profile, which she realized with a start as she looked at the little wristwatch graphic in the corner, would disappear from her feed sometime this evening. A little prick of panic tickled the back of her neck. What if she never got his name? What if she never saw him again after tonight?

  But there would be tonight, and then...she’d just ask him. Flat out. What’s your name? Can I have your number?

  Because I want to fuck you many, many more times.

  The naughty thought popped into her head unbidden, shocking her. She sat for a few minutes, staring at the blinking cursor, but all she could think about was Mr. X’s golden eyes on her while she came for him, the way he’d held her, as if keeping her under his spell. She’d never felt so exposed, yet, so protected at the same time. Maybe it was the thrill of being with a stranger. She could do things she never dared with someone she knew.

  Emma knew she’d get no work done today. She opted instead to try to find an outfit for tonight. She rummaged through her drawers, but even the laciest of her lingerie seemed not sexy enough. She grabbed her bag and decided to head to the stores on Armitage. She was going to stop at the lingerie shop.

  * * *

  Emma stood anxiously in the lobby of the Ritz-Carlton, wondering if she’d arrived too early. It was ten until eight, ten full minutes before Mr. X had set the meeting date. The lobby was mostly empty, with just a couple of workers behind the desk and few patrons milling about. The elevators dinged occasionally, announcing the arrival of a new guest, and Emma found it hard not to glare at each one, hoping to see Mr. X’s face. She wore a tight black dress, one she hadn’t worn in years. It was stretchy and long-sleeved, and clung to her curves. Beneath the dress, she wore the most delicate laced thong she’d ever owned, a matching push-up bra, and actual thigh-high lacy tights, which she’d never worn her whole life. But the idea of Mr. X peeling them off her had made them a must-buy. She wore stiletto heels and carried a small clutch bag. She’d tied her blond hair up this time in a messy bun, with silver dangling earrings that skimmed her jawline when she moved her head. She felt...pretty. She also felt...very much like she wanted to get back up to that hotel room with Mr. X.

  Her stomach fluttered with nerves. She’d never before shown up at a hotel lobby with the express intent of sex. She felt beyond naughty. She was being bad, wasn’t she? Good girls didn’t do this. A flutter of nerves cinched her stomach. A bellboy went by with a golden cart full of bags, maneuvering around the giant fountain; he nodded at her, an appreciative look on his face.

  But all she wanted was Mr. X.

  Okay, she told herself, just breathe. When he comes in, ask for his name and his number first. Then...

  She felt someone looking at her and at that moment glanced up to see Mr. X walking toward her from the other side of the lobby, beyond the fountain. Their eyes locked and she froze. He looked amazing, even taller than she
remembered, even more darkly handsome than his Nost photo. His jet-black hair was perfectly combed. He smiled slightly as he saw her, a knowing smile. She felt a shiver run down her spine. It was as if he could see straight through her dress, straight to her sexy new lingerie, and the fact that she was already feeling a slickness between her legs. Just looking at the man made her wet.

  He wore a button-down shirt and a leather jacket that only made his shoulders look broader. He covered the distance between them in no time.

  “You look amazing,” he told her, hazel eyes bright as he took a long sweep of her outfit.

  “I hoped you’d like it,” she said, feeling suddenly self-conscious.

  “Oh, I do,” he said, slipping his hand around the back of her waist. She moved into him and he kissed her, lightly. She deepened the kiss, lacing her hands around the back of his neck. He tasted like cinnamon: gum he must’ve been chewing. His hands wandered down the back of her dress, his hands squeezing her hips and running down the length of her.

  When they finally broke apart, Emma’s heart thudded in her chest. The fire between them was unmistakable, the attraction palpable. Emma no longer cared about the bellhops, or the hotel workers behind the desk.

  “I want you,” Mr. X murmured, so softly only she could hear. She nodded slowly.

  “I want you, too.” Emma hesitated. “But...first...what’s your name?”

  Mr. X grinned. “You know my name.”

  “Mr. X isn’t your full name.”

  Mr. X considered her. “You want to know my name?” She nodded once more. “Then, you have to do something for me.”

  Emma felt the nerves tighten in her stomach. “Yes?”

  Mr. X chuckled, a deep growl in his throat. She bit her bottom lip, waiting. He glanced around the lobby and then leaned in, his lips near her ear. “See that bathroom over there? Why don’t you go in. Slip out of that sexy underwear you’re wearing and bring it back to me.”

  Emma’s head shot from side to side, as she glanced around the lobby, her face growing hot at the mere suggestion. But suddenly she wanted to do it. She liked the idea, even. Him telling her what to do. Her doing it. Something felt naughty about it. Naughty but right.

  “All right.” She accepted the challenge with a nod. She walked to the restroom, giving a quick glance over her shoulder. Mr. X leaned on the bar, watching every movement she made. She felt exhilarated then: he wanted her, just as much as she wanted him.

  She pushed open the bathroom door to find one of the nicest bathrooms she’d ever seen: marble white countertops and gleaming floors. Real towels instead of paper ones, heavy oak doors that went all the way to the floor. The bathroom was empty and she slipped into the first stall. Her heart thudded in her chest as she raised the hem of her black dress. What was she doing? Was she really going to hand him her underwear? But then, she thought of the glint in his golden eyes, the spark of a challenge. She felt empowered suddenly as she whipped her thin, black lace thong off. Then she heard the bathroom door open and shoes clacking on the tile floor.

  A soft knock came on her door. She jumped, startled.

  “Ready for me?” Mr. X’s smooth voice asked from the other side of the stall door. She whipped it open, shocked.

  “What are you...” She didn’t get to finish, before he’d swept in and was kissing her passionately, his hands on the hem of her dress. He yanked it upwards, revealing her bareness and her thigh-highs. He whistled, low.

  “You are so fucking sexy,” he murmured, as he leaned in and touched her, his fingers slipping into her wetness. She moaned and so did he as he worked her most tender spot. He bent down and kissed her, slipping his tongue into her mouth as his expert fingers brought her to the brink. She couldn’t believe this was happening—a bathroom? The thought flittered across her mind. She’d never in a million years thought of having sex here...but now, with Mr. X’s hands on her, all rational thought disappeared.

  He flipped her around then in the oversized stall so that her hands were up on the wall, her dress pushed up to her waist, her legs trembling and inner thighs slick with wet. She heard him unzip, and the condom package rip open and then he was taking her from behind, filling her up with every inch of himself, and she gasped, louder than she intended, as her hands pressed against the slick tiled wall.

  “I want you to come for me,” he growled in her ear.

  “I...” Could she? Her whole body felt like it was on fire, her whole self wanted him in a way she’d never wanted anyone.

  “I want you to touch yourself,” he commanded, in a voice that left no room for argument. She was hyperaware that at any moment, someone could walk in, someone could hear them.

  “Touch yourself,” he demanded again, and then she did, her hand snaking downward, finding her sweet center. This was what she wanted. Pure, unadulterated lust, taken by a man who couldn’t wait to get her in a bed. Couldn’t wait to even get her fully undressed.

  She pushed against her own hand, as he delved deeper and harder in her. She could feel the tension build. Oh, God, could she. Not caring about who might come in or who might hear them, she let go, toppling over the edge in a furious, urgent climax. She let out a shout, even as he, too, came inside her with a hard thrust. He collapsed against her, breathing hard.

  “You are...so fucking perfect,” he growled in her ear, as if even he couldn’t believe it. “What are you doing to me?”

  Her legs felt like jelly, and she didn’t even know if she could move just yet. He withdrew, discarded the condom and zipped up, then kissed her neck as she pulled down the hem of her skirt. One thigh-high was now down around her knee.

  “I’ll keep these,” he promised, tucking her G-string in his pocket. Then, he kissed the back of her neck once more.

  “You promised your name,” she said.

  “Xavier,” he said and slipped out of the stall.

  “Xavier... What?” she asked, staying behind to straighten out her thigh-highs. She’d never had such an amazing orgasm so fast in a public space before. She felt light-headed and overcome, her knees literally wobbled as she stood up. The storm of passion had left her spent and panting, unsure of what to do next. Her head spun. The last time she’d even done anything so...public was in her college dorm study lounge.

  “Xavier?” she called once more, but heard no response. She came out of the stall to find the restroom empty. Was he outside? She smoothed her now mussed hair as she rushed out.

  The lobby, however, was empty.

  Xavier was nowhere to be found.

  CHAPTER NINE

  XAVIER JUMPED INTO a waiting cab as his heart beat rapidly in his chest. He could still smell her on him, on his clothes, and his veins still buzzed with arousal and yearning for her. She ought to be in his arms right now. Hell, he ought to have taken her upstairs to a new room and taken her eight more times. But he couldn’t. He was getting pulled in, as if Emma were quicksand. He’d felt that urge for more grow in him just when he thought it ought to be abating. He wanted to spend the night with her again and wake up with her in his arms, and he couldn’t do that. He knew what it would mean if he did. He was falling for this girl. As he came he’d almost said, I love you.

  Never before had he felt such swift emotions, not during sex, and certainly not with what amounted to a stranger. The last time he’d felt so consumed had been Sasha. And he had no intention of making that mistake again.

  Leaving her now was the best thing he could do for them both. He’d thought that he could get her out of his system by having one last night with her, but now, he realized, she was like a highly addictive drug: the more times he went back, the more he’d need her. And he couldn’t do that. He wasn’t ready. Sasha had torn out his heart and he vowed never to let another woman get that close to him again.

  His phone pinged, the Nost app alerting him to the fact that her profile was officially disappear
ing from his app in less than fifteen minutes. There was nothing he could do to prolong the inevitable. He’d been the one to engineer it, after all, and despite his partners wanting a fail-safe, a way of extending time, he’d been bullheaded about that feature.

  “Can’t close the deal in forty-eight? Then you start over,” he’d said. And eventually he’d gotten everyone to agree with him. “You want a longer relationship than that? Then head to Bumble.”

  The board had eventually agreed. They couldn’t be the “looking for love” app when they were strictly about no-strings. It was the way to set themselves apart in an already crowded market. But now, Xavier doubted himself. Had he done the right thing?

  Still, he had her number. He had a way to contact her. He knew where she worked.

  Can’t do it, he told himself. The sex was amazing, but that’s all it was. The words rang hollow even in his own head. He knew he was lying to himself, and yet, he stubbornly refused to admit it.

  Instead, he decided to hit the gym. That’s where he went to work out his frustrations and maybe after an hour or two lifting weights his mind would be clearer and he’d get his mind off Emma’s gorgeous, lean body and the way she gave herself so freely, came so deeply. He’d never had a woman offer up so much of herself to him so willingly, and he wondered if that included her heart as well. Would she love him as passionately as she fucked him? Thoughts of love unnerved him. What was he doing? He’d decided long ago that love was toxic. Why would he want that now?

  He felt the urge to pull up Emma’s Facebook, but then stopped himself. What was he doing? Becoming some creepy tech stalker? No. He needed to pull himself together. Emma was amazing, and their time together had been outstanding. But the Nost clock had less than one minute left.

  Then, a message lit up his screen.

  Where are you? she wrote to him on Nost. I...

  Then, the app reset, her profile disappeared and the rest of the message was lost.