Page 3 of One Night Only

CHAPTER TWO

It’s only been aroundtwenty-four hours since Mr. Delicious—Reed—came in and left. Since then, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him. Maybe it’s because of my sudden thirst for excitement, or maybe it’s simply because he’s hard to forget.

Even when my shift ended and I went home to my one-bedroom apartment with my lazy, fat cat, I couldn’t get him out of my mind. When I stepped into the shower, he was still there—in my head—taunting me with dirty words and delicate touches. My pussy almost exploded right then and there just from the mere thought, but I took things a step further and imagined it was him pleasing me instead of my rusty, detachable showerhead.

In the moment, it was great. I was completely lost in a world that wasn’t reality rolling around in the sheets with a man so far out of my league even a NASA spaceship wouldn’t see us together. But after… my thoughts snapped me right back to my boring, pathetic life.

A man like Reed would never even glance at a woman like me. He’s the type who beds models and stuck-up soccer moms with more plastic in their faces than the polluted ocean. I’m simply not his type. He was probably only friendly because I was holding his Amex.

I try to push the thoughts away as I focus on work. There isn’t much to do because it’s been a slow day, but I make my rounds on the first floor, where we have our DVDs, lingerie, and a small selection of toys, before moving to the second level. Stepping on the escalator, I ride it up and immediately feel more relaxed. Neon lights, a more extensive array of BDSM toys and instruments, and furry rugs welcome me.

I’m pretty sure the second story of the store is the only reason I took this job. I’ve always been fascinated by the dynamics in the BDSM world, although I’ve never practiced it. I thought working here would expand my knowledge—you know, meet people in the lifestyle, see what they buy, and things like that—but that’s not how this job has panned out thus far, and I’ve stayed because, well, I’m comfortable. For someone like me, it’s just easier to keep doing the same things day in and day out. The routine is nice—or it was. Now I find myself wanting more, but I’m stuck.

Once I see everything is in its right place and there are no customers needing help, I ride the escalator back down and resume my position behind the counter. I stare at the same book Reed purchased, wondering if his question was right. Do women really fantasize about the things within those pages? Of course, I know what I think about, and it’s Reed, at least most recently, but how could I have answered his question if I don’t even know what the story contains? I’ve never been a reader, but call me curious. I pick up the book and start to read.

The first chapter starts off slowly as I’m introduced to Jane, the female character. She works in a law firm, surrounded by powerful men, but can’t seem to move up the ladder. She’s making okay money, but she isn’t happy. She wants to be doing more with her life.

My heart pangs because I feel her pain. I too want to be doing something more, but other life circumstances are holding me back.

By the second chapter, I’m introduced to John—the sexy new lawyer with more than a decade under his belt. He takes an interest in Jane and wants to mentor her. As the book goes on, I find myself completely engrossed in their story. What started as a mentorship leads to complete lust. John just can’t seem to get his mind off Jane and offers her cash to be his for the night. Reluctantly, she agrees.

Right as I’m getting to the juicy bits, the bell above the door rings, startling me like I’m doing something wrong. It takes me a moment to come back to reality and realize I work in an adult store for crying out loud. I’m surrounded by dildos, pocket pussies, and pornos. The book in my hands is probably the tamest item we sell here.

I set the book down, mildly frustrated I’m being pulled away, until I see who it is who walked through the door. “Working again tonight, Juliet?”

I let out a breath, all frustration exiting me with it as I look at Reed. “I’m here all week.” I smile and stretch my arms out beside me.

I don’t think he really cares whether I’m here or not, but he still talks just for the sake of making conversation. “I see you got curious too. Where are you at?”

I tip my head, confused, until he points to the book I laid down. “Oh. It’s been a slow night, so I figured why not,” I reply, ignoring his question.

He nods and steps in front of the counter. Planting his elbows on the top, he leans over and picks it up. “Chapter ten. So that means you haven’t made it to the best part.”

I swallow the lump that’s seemed to form in my throat. “Best part?”

He nods before laying the book back down. “Where they realize one night isn’t enough, and he takes her in the bathroom at the firm, then shoves her panties in her mouth to keep her quiet.”

Immediately, heat flashes to my cheeks. “Oh.”

Reed gives me a smile. “Shy are we, Juliet?”

“I—I’m sorry—” I start fidgeting with some price tags on the counter, trying my best to look busy instead of completely flustered.

“No need to be ashamed or apologize. I assumed someone who worked in a place like this”—he gestures around the store—“would be pretty comfortable with kinky things in every form.”

I let out a pitiful laugh. “Hard to be confident when the only lay you’ve had in months has been your showerhead.” I slap my hand over my mouth. “Oh my God. I can’t believe I said that.”

He flashes me another smile. “Maybe you just haven’t found your Romeo yet.”

I roll my eyes. “A play on my name, really? Does that normally work?”

He shrugs, then stands back to his full height. “I don’t know. I’ve never tried it. Haven’t met anyone with a name I could try it with.”

I cross my arms over my chest and laugh. “Kind of sad I would be your first target for a new flirting tactic.” I inhale a quick breath. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t assume you’re flirting. That was dumb. Sometimes I think my brain-to-mouth filter is broken. And now I’m rambling.”

He chuckles and lays a pack of condoms from the spinner by the register on the counter. “I’ll just take these.”

I nod, sure as hell not ready to put my foot in my mouth again. I scan the condoms quietly and keep my mouth shut as I swipe his card. When everything is processed, I slip them into a bag along with the receipt and hand it to him.

Taking the bag, he brushes my fingers again. “Have a good night, Juliet.”

I smile sadly. “You too, Reed.”

When he makes it to the door, he looks over his shoulder. “And by the way, I was flirting.” Then he leaves without another word.

Fuck. My poor showerhead is going to be working overtime tonight.

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