One Night Stand: An Erotic Serial: Episode One Read online

  One Night Stand: An Erotic Serial

  Episode One

  Sarah Robinson

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

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  About the Author

  Also By Sarah Robinson

  Chapter One

  Emma

  They say the best way to get over one guy is to get under another.

  I guess that explains why I’m swiping right and left on Tinder late on a Saturday evening—the night before my sister’s wedding.

  I want to be the kind of girl who can just call up a guy and fuck her way through a bad break up, but I’ve never kept a little black book. Blake was the first man I’d ever been with and three years later, here we were.

  On a freaking break.

  Whatever the heck that means.

  Now I have to spend the entire weekend dealing with love and romance as my sister celebrates her happily-ever-after with her future husband while my heart is torn to pieces. Not that I’m not happy for her. I am. After all, I’m her maid of honor. But that doesn’t make it any easier to spend the entire last week making decorations, planning seating charts, and watching Elise fawn all over Mark, the man she loves.

  Closing out of Tinder, I moved over to my text messages and scrolled down until I found the one I was looking for. The one I’d read a hundred times and still didn’t understand. Blake’s name popped up and his message appeared.

  I need space to find myself.

  What does that even mean?

  I’d tried to decipher it over and over, but it led me nowhere except the fact that the love of my life needed time away from me in order to figure himself out. Because apparently I get in the way of self-discovery or some shit like that.

  I took another bite of the pizza I’d ordered earlier in a fit of self-deprecation and finished off the rest of my second glass of wine. I needed a plan. Something to make him jealous, make him come back to me. It seemed easy enough. He had to see that he’d made a mistake and would undoubtedly come crawling back to me.

  Maybe I’d hire a male model to take some Instagram photos with me. Make it look like we’re dating.

  Too much?

  I realize that I should be more put-together than this, but honestly, this is my rock bottom.

  You’re staring at it.

  Welcome to the abyss.

  It’s strange that I miss Blake so much when our relationship wasn’t picture perfect by any means. I’m not naive. I know we had our problems. First and foremost—the bedroom. I wanted it and he wanted…to sleep. Or workout. Or anything other than explore my sexual appetite.

  Don’t get me wrong—I’m not some sex maniac. Hell, I could even be classified as a prude by most measurements. But Blake was my first boyfriend and, well, I had things I wanted to try. Blake, however, had already explored quite a bit before we met and knew what he liked. He liked to stick to that and nothing else. Blow job, doggy style, and done. I’d be lucky if I even had an orgasm by the end of the ten minutes together.

  Sigh.

  Clicking through my photos on my camera roll on my phone, I surveyed my most recent captures. I needed one where I looked super hot, super fun, and super I-could-care-less-about-Blake. Tomorrow I’d be taking a bunch of rehearsal dinner photos, so I’d definitely post those to make him eat his heart out. I looked damn good in my rehearsal dinner dress. And my bridesmaid’s dress for Sunday? I looked hot as fuck. Thank God, Elise had let me pick my own instead of dolling me up in something hideous like a lot of brides tend to do.

  But I needed something for tonight. Which might just be the wine talking, but here we were.

  After some scrolling, I came across a selfie I’d taken in class two days ago. I looked studious with my owl-eyed glasses and my hair up in a messy bun, bangs hanging in my face. The collared shirt I was wearing was open just low enough to look revealing, but not too low that I looked like a skank.

  Eh, it wasn’t perfect, but it would work for now.

  Anything to prove that online-me was happy and living a fabulous life that had nothing to do with sitting at home on a Friday night over pizza and wine.

  I opened Instagram on my phone and hit the plus sign to add a photo. Picking the perfect filters and retouching the lighting, I finally had a semi-decent photo of me. Now time to caption it.

  Graduate school is for masochists. #Amstudying

  Still not perfect, but I didn’t want to look like I was trying too hard.

  I hit post and waited for it to load. Satisfied with the outcome, I went back to my feed and started scrolling through pictures of friends and acquaintances actually out enjoying their Friday nights out in the real world—

  What.

  The.

  Hell.

  I came to an abrupt stop as I realized what I had just seen. Scrolling back up, I looked for the photograph that had jumped out at me. Sure enough…there he was. Smiling. Leaning forward. In Vanessa’s arms.

  Her caption: Friday nights with you are a dream come true. #blessed

  Vanessa Vincenzo has long since been my arch nemesis. It’s not an official feud or anything, but we’re in the same graduate program and constantly volleying over who takes the top rank. I might be a dolt with men, but when it came to data science, I was one of the smartest in my class. Give me all the formulas and algorithms and watch me nerd out.

  So, to see her with her arms around my err…ex-boyfriend? I guess he’s an ex now.

  Absolutely not okay.

  An ache settled in my gut as I stared at the two of them. We’d been broken up for two weeks and he was already moving on…and with her? That didn’t sound like a break to me. That didn’t sound like he was working on finding himself.

  Anger replaced the ache in my chest, fire lighting up my insides as rage bubbled through me.

  This was some bullshit.

  You know what? If he can move on, so can I.

  I shut Instagram, vowing never to use it again so as to avoid ever seeing a photo of them. Instead, I opened up Tinder again and double checked my profile. My pictures were good, but my bio was problematic.

  Ever order a four-piece chicken nugget and get five? I’m that fifth nugget.

  I thought it was funny at the time, but it certainly hadn’t gotten me any matches. Deleting it, I replaced it with two words:

  Tonight only.

  Impulse ran through me as I grinned at the big swing I was taking. Could I do this? Have a one night stand? Why not? After all, I needed to move on and this was definitely one of the ways to do that. Just because I’d never had a one night stand before, didn’t mean I couldn’t do it now.

  Determination set in me and I started swiping through potential prospects.

  Too many tattoos on his face.

  Can’t use the correct your/you’re/you are.

  Is he smoking a bong?

  Why is he holding an iguana?

  So far, the profiles were unappealing. Trying one more, I swiped to the next.

  Dylan, 24. Won’t call you tomorrow, but you’ll be calling out my name tonight.

  I slid through his photos, and…damn. The guy was hot. He had all kinds of pictures of him shirtless at the beach and I swear, he had at least an eight-pack, if not more. His bio was kind of perfect for what I was looking for, too. There was no doubt he wasn’t from around here. No one had that many beach pictures in Washington, DC. If he was a tourist or a visitor, that was even better
.

  One night only. No strings. Then he would be gone.

  I decided to swipe right and as soon as I did, Tinder notified me that we were a match. Deciding to send him a message, I began typing.

  Congratulations! You’ve been deemed tall enough to ride this ride.

  No. I erased that. I needed something better.

  My bed’s broken. Can I sleep in yours?

  Ugh. That was even worse.

  You look like a hard worker. I have an opening you can fill.

  Oh. My. God. Why was this so freaking hard? How did people do this?

  Finally, I just sent off a GIF of a whale, followed up by my favorite pick up line: Do you like whales? Because we can go humpback at my place.

  Okay, so that might have been my worst option but it was too late. I’d already hit send.

  I waited a minute or two, suddenly doubting my pick up line. Was it too stupid? I thought it was funny, but maybe he’d think I’m a dork. Finally, a response came.

  I’m more of a shark guy! Let’s get hammered and you give me head.

  Laughing, I hit reply. Points for creativity. Your place or mine?

  He was quick to respond: Send me your address and I’ll be there in twenty.

  Pausing, I thought about what I was doing a second longer. But, fuck it. I didn’t want to be alone tonight and this guy…he looked hot as hell, and I was more than a little willing to try something new. I sent him my address and then took a screenshot of his profile. Sending a quick text to my best friend, Nicole, I told her what I was doing and sent her a picture of his profile. Just in case he turned out to be a murderer or something…at least there would be a paper trail.

  Nicole’s response came almost immediately. YES. FINALLY. DO IT. DO HIM.

  I chuckled, knowing she would be excited that I was putting myself out there. She hated Blake and was very vocal about the fact that she didn’t think we should get back together. I wanted to listen to her…but she didn’t really know Blake and how good we were together. How much he meant to me. She was a perpetually single woman who had a different guy every week and didn’t understand love and monogamy.

  I could hear my mother yelling at me now from three states away, because I knew what I was doing was crazy. It was impulsive. It was potentially dangerous. But…I’m twenty-two years old and in graduate school. I spend all my time working or studying and never have the chance to just live a little. I’ve been with one man my entire life and he just dashed my heart.

  Repeatedly.

  So, I was going to fuck a stranger and that would be that.

  It was about time that I had a proper one-night stand.

  Chapter Two

  Dylan

  I closed the car door behind me and headed up the walkway to Emma, 22’s apartment. At least, that’s what her Tinder profile said. Her bio had been exactly what I’m looking for—tonight only. Sure, I could have gone out to the bar and spent a hundred dollars on drinks for some strange woman that would end up in my bed a few hours later. But dating apps made it so easy to find some companionship when you’re traveling and not on your home turf—why not take advantage of that?

  After all, my intentions were clear from the start. I wasn’t a relationship guy. I didn’t give a shit about dating or falling in love or getting married one day. I didn’t live here and wouldn’t be around for more than this weekend. Serious wasn’t for me, but companionship? I wanted that.

  I wanted what every other warm-blooded twenty-four year old male wanted—sex.

  Ringing the doorbell, I stepped back and waited, hoping and praying that the woman on the other side of the door looked as good as her photos. Gorgeous blue eyes, blond hair, and a killer set of curves I immediately swiped right for. If she looked even halfway as good as her photos, I’d be happy because the woman was a knock out.

  She opened the door a small crack and peeked out. Seeming to like what she saw, she opened the door wider.

  “You look like your pictures,” she said, offering me her first smile.

  I chuckled and tossed up my arms. “Well, I aim to please.”

  And she was about to find out how much.

  “Come in.” She opened the door all the way and ushered him inside. “I’m Emma. You’re Dylan?”

  I nodded. “I am. Pleasure to meet you, Emma.”

  “Can I offer you a glass of wine or a beer?” she asked.

  “I’ll take a beer. Whatever you have is fine.” I could use some loosening up. It was always a little…awkward, meeting for the first time. But damn, she was every bit as beautiful as her photos.

  When she leaned over to reach for a beer in the fridge, I couldn’t help but gaze at her perfectly round ass. Standing back up, she handed me the beer with a small, shy smile on her face.

  I popped off the cap and then took a swig. “So…Emma. What’s the plan for tonight? Want to watch a movie or something?”

  I wasn’t about to pressure her into anything. I definitely preferred things to happen organically. Well, as organically as a one-night stand hook up through Tinder could be.

  “Sure, we can watch some Netflix?” She walked out to the living room and pointed at her television screen. “Have you seen the latest season of Stranger Things yet?”

  I shook my head. “I haven’t. Is it good?”

  “No, but it’s not terrible either.” She shrugged her shoulders and turned on the television set. “I’m already on the third episode, but we can go back to the first one if you want.”

  “Nah, let’s keep watching where you were. I can catch up.”

  We took a seat on the couch next to each other as she turned on the television and picked the show. I had no plans on actually watching a show, but it was always better to have some sort of distraction in case things didn’t progress easily. She looked nervous, and I wondered if she’d ever done this before. I couldn’t help but watch her out of the corner of my eye—the way she chewed on her bottom lip, fidgeted with her fingers. God, she was gorgeous even in her anxious state.

  Wanting to help her calm down, I reached over and took her hand in mine. Intertwining our fingers together, I gave her a squeeze.

  She looked up at me, smiling a small smile and leaning closer. Letting go of her hand, I wrapped my arm around her shoulders instead. She burrowed into my side, pulling her feet up onto the couch and her knees to her chest.

  “This is nice,” she admitted, her voice barely above a murmur.

  “Mmm,” I agreed. I loved the feeling of a woman curled into my side, cuddling together. And Emma? She fit perfectly against me, her warm body molding to mine. “It is.”

  Leaning down, I placed a kiss on her forehead.

  I could hear her smile, then she turned her face toward me. “Hi.”

  I grinned. “Hi.”

  “I’ve never…never been impulsive like this before,” she told me.

  I lifted one brow. “Are you a virgin?”

  She shook her head. “No, but I’ve never had a one-night stand either.”

  I liked that answer. She looked as innocent as her photos, and the way her eyes filled with trust as she stared up at me…it was addicting. This woman needed me tonight. I didn’t know why, or what she was going through, but she needed this distraction.

  I was going to give her exactly that.

  “We can do whatever you’re comfortable with,” I assured her. “Even if that just means cuddling and watching Stranger Things.”

  She looked relieved to hear that and leaned her head against my shoulder. “Do you think I’m crazy? Inviting a stranger over to my home in the middle of the night?”

  “No crazier than me agreeing to come to a stranger’s house in the middle of the night,” I replied.

  Emma laughed lightly, then leaned back and looked at me. “What are you doing here?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “I’m in town just for the weekend. I’m single. You’re beautiful. It’s really that simple.”

  “When was your last relation
ship?” she asked.

  I was taken a little back by her forthrightness. “Uh…”

  “Sorry,” she quickly said. “Is that too much to ask? I’m being rude, probably. I was just curious.”

  “No, it’s fine,” I assured her. “It just caught me a little off guard. I’ve been single about a year now. Planning on staying that way, to be honest. I tried the relationship thing and it just wasn’t for me.”

  Hell, it had been a disaster. My last girlfriend and I had dated for eight months and she wanted to know where I was every minute of every day. She had been cheated on in the past and, for some reason, decided that meant I would cheat on her too. I’ve never cheated on anyone in my life, but I certainly didn’t appreciate the constant scrutiny and disbelief. No matter what I did to try and convince her that I wasn’t like her ex, and that I wasn’t going to cheat on her, she wouldn’t calm down and just trust me.

  Eventually, it just became too much for me to handle and I had to end things with her.

  And now I was happily single and enjoying every minute of it.

  It’s not like I was out having sex with a different woman every night. I’m not that much of a player. But, I enjoyed my fair share of one night stands and short flings. Being out of town, though, I definitely wanted the company of a woman to keep me warm tonight.

  “That makes sense,” she said, running her finger down my arm. I loved the feeling of her skin against mine, and I felt my dick twitch at her movements. “Is it okay that I’ve never…done anything like this before?”

  I turned to face her, pulling my knee up on to the couch. “Of course. Hell, it’s hot.”

  A blush crept up on her cheeks. “Oh.”

  Deciding to take the leap, I leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss against her cheek.

  She turned into my kiss, placing her lips against mine.

  That was all the permission I needed.