One Night Only

  Table of Contents

  Bonus Book 2: Exotic Desires Vol. 1

  Bonus Book 3: Twisted Affair Vol. 1

  Free Book

  Savannah

  Jace

  Bonus Book: Sinful Desires Box Set

  Also by M. S. Parker

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  One Night Only

  M. S. Parker

  Belmonte Publishing, LLC

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2017 Belmonte Publishing LLC

  Published by Belmonte Publishing LLC

  Contents

  Free Book

  1. Savannah

  2. Jace

  3. Savannah

  4. Jace

  5. Savannah

  6. Jace

  7. Savannah

  8. Savannah

  9. Jace

  10. Savannah

  11. Jace

  12. Savannah

  13. Savannah

  14. Jace

  15. Savannah

  16. Jace

  17. Savannah

  18. Savannah

  19. Jace

  20. Savannah

  21. Jace

  22. Savannah

  23. Jace

  24. Savannah

  25. Jace

  26. Savannah

  27. Jace

  28. Savannah

  29. Jace

  30. Savannah

  Bonus Book: Sinful Desires Box Set

  Also by M. S. Parker

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Free Book

  Get my new book for FREE! Click Here to subscriber to my newsletter and start reading the exclusive 200 pages stand-alone Erotic romance, The Billionaire’s Sub.

  One

  Savannah

  It was too fucking hot outside, but it had been a hell of a week, and I needed to unwind. And not the eating ice cream and binging on Game of Thrones kind of unwinding. I needed dancing, drinking, and fucking, though I wasn't particular about the order.

  The sun was almost down by the time I stepped back outside, but New York City was still sweltering. Then again, it was the end of June, so the heat wasn't surprising. Even in my barely-there dress, my skin glowed with a thin sheen of sweat when I climbed into the cab. I gave the driver the club's address and grimaced as the backs of my thighs stuck to the seat despite the air-conditioning.

  I grew up in Indiana, so it wasn't like I wasn't used to the heat, but there was something different about a suburban summer in the Midwest as opposed to the Big Apple. Like all the worst parts of sun and heat and humanity came together in the worst possible way. It was one of the few things I didn't like about the city. Everything had to have some downsides, right?

  "Savannah!"

  My best friend was shouting before the cab even pulled to a stop.

  "Savannah Birch, you sexy little bitch, get your ass out of there and get over here!"

  Oh shit, he was drunk already.

  "Here." I handed the driver a couple bills. "Thanks."

  I'd barely gotten two steps away before six feet, five inches of gorgeous gay man enfolded me in an entirely too sweaty hug.

  "How much have you had to drink?" My voice was muffled as I tried to push him away. I loved him, but it was too fucking hot for this mess.

  "You were late," Everett explained as he hooked his arm through mine and practically pulled me to the door. "So Lei and Lorde decided we needed to play a drinking game. I'm losing."

  I shook my head. "You know, one would think that seven years with those two would've taught you a thing or two."

  He gave me one of his devastating grins and winked at the bouncer as we went inside. He always got flirty and flamboyant when he drank, which was usually why Lei and Lorde liked to make it happen. A drunk Everett was a sight to behold.

  Everett and I had been inseparable since the first day of kindergarten when Titus McPherson stole my Captain America lunchbox. I'd gone after him, but not before Titus spilled the contents everywhere and stomped all over them just because my brother, Jonathan, had called his brother a booger eater, which was, of course, a deadly insult for a manly preschooler to offer. I'd been ready to knock out a tooth or two when this scrawny little thing with platinum blond hair and the greenest eyes I'd ever seen came up, shoved Titus hard enough to knock him on his ass, then said I could share his lunch.

  He officially came out to me in seventh grade, but I'd suspected his sexual preferences when he joined me in mooning over whichever boy band was the most popular at the time. Fortunately, I'd never harbored any romantic feelings for him, so I was able to be totally supportive after he had the talk with his parents.

  "You're late." Lorde Mayfair and I bonded over a shared birthday when we met at NYU freshman orientation. She had a degree in Metropolitan studies, but currently worked as a sales clerk at a high-end fashion boutique while she decided what she wanted to do with the rest of her life. As a result, she never quite understood the dedication the rest of us had toward our careers.

  "And you look amazing," I said as I took in the cute sundress that did wonders for her pleasantly plump figure. With her youthfully cute face, short chestnut brown waves, and blue-green eyes, she still got carded even though she was twenty-five.

  "So do you," she said as she gave me a loose hug before sitting back down.

  "See, Everett, some people understand personal boundaries," I teased as he plopped down in the booth. He stretched his arms out across the top of the seat and ruffled Lorde's hair.

  "Hey, I can't help it that you're so huggable," he countered. "Like a teddy bear. An angry teddy bear."

  I glared at Lorde, who gave me a wide-eyed, innocent look, and pointed to the fourth member of our party.

  Lei Oshiro was the most unassuming member of the group, and the youngest at twenty-four. A second-generation Japanese-American, she spoke the language fluently and often used it to confuse men who wouldn't quite take no for an answer. Because she was on the quiet side, most people didn't realize that a devious personality lurked behind those nut-brown eyes.

  She shrugged. "You know how easily I get bored."

  "Time to catch up!" Everett announced as he jumped up. "I'm buying this round."

  As he headed toward the bar with our orders, I fanned my face. The air conditioning was on in here, but there were so many bodies packed into one place that it barely made a difference. I'd pulled all of my curls up into a sloppy sort of up-do that was both practical and appealing, so I supposed it could have been worse.

  "Is Robert meeting us tonight?" I leaned close to Lorde so I could ask the question without yelling. The new song the DJ was spinning had the sort of pounding beat that made talking nearly impossible, but dancing a near inevitability.

  Lorde shook her head. "Business trip to the West Coast. Won't be home until Sunday afternoon."

  She genuinely looked sad, and I couldn't really blame her. She and her fiancé had been together for six years and would be tying the knot in December. His name was Robert Huntington III, and most people would expect that, with a name so dickishly presumptuous sounding, he'd be a total asswipe, but he was actually a really great guy. Lei and I always said that we were both single because Robert set the bar far too high when it came to boyfriends.

  "I guess that means you'll be dancing with us all night." I picked up the glass that Everett had just set down in front of me. I downed it in a couple gulps, then grabbed Lorde's hands and pulled her onto the dance floor.


  It was time to forget about the week and all the shit assignments I kept getting at work. I was here to have some fun.

  As a tall, dark-haired hottie sidled past me, I gave him a lingering look. Yeah, I needed to get laid too. I hadn't had an actual relationship in nearly two years, but I had no problem with one night stands if I had an itch that needed to be scratched.

  And I'd been itchy for nearly a month.

  I could take care of things myself, but there was something to be said about having a hard body over you, underneath you, against you...I blew out a breath. Damn. I definitely needed to hook up with someone tonight, or I was going to spontaneously combust. One of the biggest benefits of living with Everett was that I didn't need to worry about the danger of bringing a stranger home. He was usually the most laid-back, easy-going person I knew, but he could be downright scary when it came to protecting his friends.

  Judging by the way he and a lanky brunet were grinding against each other, I wouldn't be the only one getting lucky tonight. Good for him.

  "I like your hair," I said as I clung to the arm of Lewis – Leonard? Leon?

  I'd call him L, I decided. Made things easier to remember.

  As he leaned down to take my key from my hand, I patted the man bun on the top of his head.

  "It's poofy." I giggled, then cursed. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! I wasn't supposed to drink this much tonight."

  L stopped with the door halfway open and gave me a concerned look. "Do I need to be worried?"

  I shook my head. "Still completely capable of making an informed decision." I grinned at him and patted his hair again. "I just get a bit...silly when I've had a few."

  His dark eyes twinkled as he laughed, but he didn't turn around and go home, so I figured we were good to go. And boy did I ever want to go. I was going to ride him like a pony.

  He better be able to keep up or silly drunk was going to become pissed drunk.

  As soon as I kicked the door closed, I was on him, tugging at the skin-tight t-shirt that showed every muscle in his lean torso. He was a bit pretty for my tastes, and I usually didn't go for the sort of guys who had man buns and beards, but I was a little bit tipsy and a lot horny, so this was going to happen, pretty boy or not.

  He was talking as he stripped off the rest of his clothes, but I wasn't really paying that much attention. It was all "you're so hot" and that sort of thing. I didn't really care about the compliments, and I wasn't interested in getting to know him. I just wanted to fuck him until I could no longer think.

  Suddenly, Everett's laughter echoed in the hallway, followed by the lower, more sensual laugh of the guy he'd been hanging on all night.

  "Dammit! Bedroom," I said as I grabbed L's wrist. "Gotta go quick."

  His pants were around his ankles, hindering his ability to walk as I practically dragged him after me, and I could barely keep myself from laughing. I mentally cursed my friends, and vowed to get them back for letting me get loopy-drunk.

  "We can do it out here," he said. "You got a nice couch."

  "I also have a roommate." I looked over my shoulder and giggled at the hopeful expression on his face. "Who's a guy. Bringing home another guy."

  "Bedroom," L agreed with a laugh.

  He was still struggling with his pants when I pushed him back onto the bed.

  "Time's up," I said as I reached up behind my neck and untied the strap holding my top. "I'm in charge."

  His eyebrows went up as his gaze dropped to my bare breasts. "Babe, you can be in charge of me any day."

  “I fixed him with a mock glare. "Shh. No talking. Just fucking."

  He pretended to lock his mouth and throw away the key. Then he watched as I climbed onto the bed, my eyes on the prize. Silly or not, I knew what I wanted, and tonight, I was going to get it.

  About damn time too.

  Two

  Jace

  It was too damn hot to be here, but we met at the Gilded Cage on the last Friday of every month, and after Erik's call last night, I knew I couldn't beg off. Now, sitting here at the table, I could see why. All around us, people were laughing and drinking and flirting, but the four of us looked like we were at a funeral.

  Well, not all four of us.

  The sandy-haired man sitting across from me was listening to a tale of woe, but Erik Sanders couldn't stop himself from smiling. Not because anything Alix Wexler was saying was funny or anything like that, I knew. Erik was thinking about Tanya Lacey, his girlfriend. Which was ironic, considering Alix was currently fucked up over a girl. His assistant, apparently. They'd had a thing, and then she just vanished. Sent him a text yesterday saying they were done. No explanation, nothing.

  He should have known better. Erik might be claiming to have found his soulmate or whatever, but the rest of us knew that wasn't how things worked. After all, Reb and I both had personal experience telling us that the best we could hope for was a woman who wouldn't sell out our secrets to the media. While the perception of the BDSM lifestyle may have changed a little over the years, and those of us in any sort of artistic profession usually got a pass when it came to sexual proclivities, none of us wanted our names and faces splashed across the tabloids with stories about whips and leather.

  Not that leather was my thing. Whips, on the other hand...

  I looked up as a hand brushed my shoulder. A tall red-head gave me a look out of the corner of her eye, and I recognized the gleam. It wasn't like she was being subtle about it. Too many of the women who came here claiming to be subs thought they knew what they wanted because they'd read some book about alpha males and Dominants without really trying to understand the true meaning underneath it all. They thought they'd find some rich playboy who liked kinky sex and just needed the love of a good woman.

  "Jace!"

  I jerked my head around to find Reb giving me an impatient look that said he'd been trying to get my attention for a while.

  "What?" I took a drink of my beer and wondered if I should get something stronger.

  His eyebrow shot up, a wicked look on his face. "You up for being my wingman?"

  All of us got our fair share of admiration, but rock star Reb Union definitely attracted the most attention. He had that sort of charisma that drew people to him, but he never lorded it over others. It was thanks to him I'd come to be part of this group since I'd been the odd man out. Erik and Alix were cousins. And Erik and Reb had been roommates during the short time Reb was in college. I was the oldest out of the four of us, and I'd already been going to Gilded Cage for a couple years when they started coming, but I'd never made a point to talk to anyone, to make friends. I came for sex, and that had been it.

  I'd been sitting by the bar when Reb sat down next to me and started complaining about the song that was playing at the time. The two of us started talking classic rock, and the rest was history.

  I looked around the room. It was a Friday night in late June, so the place was packed. The dance floor was full of writhing bodies, some dressed simply like me, in jeans and a short-sleeved shirt, some in the more extreme costumes of the S&M crowd. Gilded Cage was a bit more exclusive than other BDSM clubs in that not just anyone could walk in off the street, but it still managed to be full to capacity with some of the most beautiful and sexy people in the city.

  "How do you want to play this?" I asked, looking around at our options. "I'm not really in the mood for seduction tonight."

  He shook his head, his eyes darkened to almost purple. "Me either. I don't want someone who wants any of that romantic shit. Just sex and for one night only."

  "That makes two of us," I muttered as I stood.

  I found myself scanning the crowd almost as a second thought, then caught myself. I didn't need to do that anymore. She hadn't been here in a long time. It was just times like tonight, when things got to me and everything else was going to shit, I found myself pulled to the past, even when I didn't want to be.

  I needed to get my head out of my life for a while. Stop thinking so much
about every damn thing. I knew that was why I hadn't been able to paint anything half decent in my studio in months. I'd start something and lose it halfway through. I had more than a dozen half-finished canvases in my studio, and absolutely no desire to work on any of them.

  Reb tapped my arm and jerked his chin toward two blondes a few tables over. They looked enough alike for me to guess they were sisters. Pretty. Both wearing similar slinky dresses that clung to their curves enough for me to see that, even from where I stood, they both had pierced nipples.

  The two of us fell into step together, and the crowd parted for us, the subs automatically dipping their heads, the Doms giving us nods of acknowledgement. We weren't the oldest or most prominent members, or even the wealthiest – which was saying something – but we'd made a name for ourselves among the BDSM crowd.

  That was something.

  And it was enough to get one of the blondes – she gave her name as Lillian – to come back with me to one of the VIP rooms.

  Less than fifteen minutes later, she was bent over a padded bench, her arms stretched out on either side, soft leather cuffs around her wrists to hold her in place. Her breasts hung over the front as well, and I'd fastened a pair of weights to both of the silver rings in each nipple, stretching them. She made the most delicious sounds as I followed through on what I promised to do to her.