Page 1 of OneTime Lovers
Chapter 1
Jasmine
Shit,Shit,Shit!What the hell was I thinking, sleeping with a groomsman at my best friend’s wedding. I blame it on there being too much love in the air and the man in question being way too yummy.
Seriously, it’s such a cliché. The single bridesmaid and the hot unattached groomsman getting it on.
It's not like it wasn’t fun. Honestly, it was spectacular, satisfying sex. Undoubtedly, the best I’ve had in years, and at twenty-nine I’m not without experience. No regrets. No misgivings.
Just a niggly worry that things could get messy, very messy.
With a slight turn of my head, I gaze shamelessly at the perfect specimen of a naked man lying next to me in the bed. Careful not to wake the sleeping giant, I run my eyes shamelessly over every single inch of his tanned skin, lingering on his firm sculptured abs. All tantalizingly within reach.
I have a strong desire to trace a finger over the small collection of stars tattooed on the left side of his chest as I wonder at the significance of them. Then I want to run my tongue over every single one of the ridges, which ripple down his washboard stomach. I want to dig my nails again into his biceps as I moan in pleasure. And drink in the sight of the veins in his forearms which are barely visible now, but last night were so goddam sexy as he braced himself above me. Oh yes, veins in a guy’s muscled arms are hot.
I’m even turned on by the way he’s sprawled out on top of all the bedding, one of those muscled arms, with its light dusting of fair hair currently resting casually across his chest, and the other flung out beside his body.
On the inside of his forearm, I can see an intricate wave tattoo with the wordsLive, Love, Surfscrolled underneath. I hadn’t noticed the words last night when we were up close and personal, I guess I was a little preoccupied with other magnificent things to look at.
I like the sound of his motto and particularly how it’s etched permanently onto him. Tattoos on muscled arms are a little bit bad boy, and another of my favorite things.
Hmm… maybe I have a previously unrealized arm fetish.
My eyes travel further south over more toned bronzed skin, stopping to stare longingly at a delicious prominent hard seven inches.
“You see anything you like?” the naked man rumbles in his sexy Australian drawl.
Reluctantly, I drag my eyes slowly back up to meet the deep blue of his, and I’m again captivated by his chiseled features, scruffy jawline, and messy blond hair.
“Maybe,” I tease. There’s no point denying my obvious attraction to him. We moved way beyond that point last night.
Scott, the gorgeous naked man stretches long and wide, then folds both arms behind his neck before turning his broadly grinning face toward me. “I don’t think there is any maybe about it. I think you want my body again … and again.”
I do like how comfortable he is reclining naked before me.
“Oh, please––that’s a big ego you got there.” My eyes trail slowly over his body again.
He chuckles. “You seemed to likemy big egolast night.”
Damn the arrogant frustrating man! I can’t believe some of the trash coming out of his mouth. I’d much prefer him to stop using his mouth for words and instead give me a repeat of some of the things he did last night. But really would that be wise? It’s going to be awkward if we meet up again through our friends.
Soberly, I tell him, “You do realize this was a very bad idea.” It’s too late, but it needs to be said.
“Probably, but bad ideas can sometimes be the most fun … Jasmine, we were inevitable.” He rolls completely onto his side to face me. The full-frontal Scott view is difficult to ignore.
“That may be true, but it doesn’t mean we should repeat those bad ideas. This was a one-time-only thing between us,” I point out, even though in my heart of hearts, I’m still hoping for a repeat.
Scott raises his hand and slowly drags his index finger down my arm. “Well, if this is a one-time-only thing, I think we blew that out the water last night. If memory serves me right, it was a couple of times for both of us.”
I can’t resist clarifying, “Correction––it was definitely three times for me.”
Scott smiles smugly as he continues, “Anyway, the way I see it, we are still in bed together, so the one-time is not officially over yet.”
His finger trails up then back down my arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
It’s a stupid argument and I attempt to counter his logic. “But a one-night stand usually means one night, not one night plus a morning.”
Frowning, he chides me firmly, “I never thought of us as a one-night stand, Jas. A one-night stand to me usually means a casual hookup, but I met you three days ago. Three days I’ve spent getting to know you, trading kisses, and seeing your ravishing flesh in skimpy bikinis. I love your bikini body as much as I enjoy your quick wit.”
