The Fifth Wheel

Valentine's Day. The annual reminder that I was still alone. It didn't help that the stores put all their related products on display right after Christmas.

Everyone at work was talking about their plans. I just smiled and nodded, slipping away when I could to hide out in my office. When I got the text that five of my friends wanted to go to the city for a the weekend, I jumped at the opportunity. Especially since we were leaving Thursday. The dreaded day.

But from the moment they pulled up at my apartment, I knew there was trouble. There were only four heads in the SUV, and my fifth friend lived in the opposite direction of where we were going. The bad news? There were two couples with me as the fifth wheel. The good news, according to my friends? I'd get the entire back seat all to myself.

While they tried hard to include me once we got up to the city as we did some sightseeing and ate dinner, I couldn't help feeling left out since I didn't have a partner. It was my own damn fault. I was too invested in my job, I guess. Too busy to go out to find dates, and I hated using online apps. So unless he showed up at my home or office door...

The five of us hit the bar scene pretty early Thursday night. By nine o'clock when the nightlife was really just getting started, my friends were more than a little buzzed as they made out in the booth we'd commandeered at the back of the third club.

Everything everywhere was goddamn hearts. Red and pink decorations. And most everyone was dressed in the same color scheme, or at least a major accent like a tie or scarf that drew on the holiday. So much for hoping to get away from it all. At least the low lighting of the clubs didn't make me stand out in my black-on-black slacks and blouse, my official anti-Valentine's Day outfit.

I finished my drink—some fruity red thing one of the girls bought us—grabbed my jacket, and excused myself. I stood at the bathroom sink and stared into the mirror while I washed my hands. Silently bemoaned the fact that I was in the big city for the weekend, but the only fun I was going to have was apparently watching everyone else enjoy themselves.

Two young girls barged through the door. Amid a bundle of giggles and slurred squeals to hush each other, they disappeared into one of the stalls. There was some commotion as they banged into the walls and the toilet seat crashed down. More giggles. And then I heard moans and the smacking of lips as they apparently made out.

Great. I couldn't even get away from the lovey-dovey B.S. in the bathroom. I decided I was better off going back to the hotel than hanging around here.

I sent a text to my friends then went outside to hail a cab. The bouncer reminded me once I left I'd have to get back in line to return. I assured him I was definitely done for the night. Though I did glance at the line of waiting clubbers against the side of the building. It was mostly couples from the way they hunched together in pairs, making out or trying to stay warm and dry. Probably all of the above. It had started to drizzle, and the canvas awning over the queue didn't seem to offer much protection.

The first person at the chain by the door, a young girl in a scrap of a dress and no jacket, grabbed my arm as I passed, heaping thanks on me in a high-pitched voice before she was allowed to disappear inside. At least I'd made someone happy tonight. My departure meant the occupancy count had gone down by one, and Ms. Going-to-Catch-Pneumonia was saved for the night...until she decided to drink too much. But she still had a better chance of getting laid than I did, so all the power to her.

Traffic was pretty heavy, making the trip to the hotel longer than expected. But I didn't mind. I had nowhere to go, and all the time in the world to get there. I figured I could hit the gift shop on the main level that also sold snacks and rented movies. I'd veg out for the rest of tonight and make an excuse tomorrow for staying in or going out on the town by myself. The same for Saturday. I just had to make it to Sunday when my friends drove me back home. At least I had my own room.

By the time the cab finally reached our destination, it was pouring down rain. I gave the driver my fare and a tip then rushed inside, but my hair and clothes still got wet despite my jacket. Shivering, I made a bee-line to the gift shop. The thought of a hot shower sounded like a good idea before indulging in my guilty pleasures.

The girl behind the counter had her head buried in a magazine. She didn't even look up when she said, "We close in fifteen minutes, ma'am."

"Thanks." I rolled my eyes and headed to the cooler where I grabbed a pint of Ben & Jerry's Half Baked, a couple bottles of soda, and a jumbo-sized bag of Twizzlers. Juggling all of my purchases while trying not to give my arm ice burn, I managed to get a hand free to browse the movie selections.

I had picked up a video and was reading the back of the case when a masculine voice spoke behind me.

"You know, those could kill you."

I just laughed. "Thriller movies or the junk food?"

"Either or."

I put the movie back and picked up another one that looked pretty risqué. "How about this one?"

"Nah, the ones you can rent directly from your room are better." A large, well-manicured hand took the case out of mine and put it back on the shelf.

I had to look up when I turned, as he was almost a foot taller than my five-four. He had dark brown hair that was trimmed short, a long straight nose, and wide, well-defined lips. His brown eyes seemed dark and serious...until he smiled and they lit up.

I raised an eyebrow over my hazel eyes. "Are we speaking from experience?"

He just grinned wider. "Tell you what. You put down the junk food, back away slowly, and I'll buy you a drink in the lounge. A much better deal than what they're trying to sell you here. Plus, it'll be cheaper."

I leaned a little closer to him, lowering my voice. "I better put them back where I got them or Miss Magazine over there may have a hernia getting up to do her job."

He took the cold, plastic bottles from where I held them in the crook of my arm. "I got these. You take care of the rest. Meet you at the doors in one minute."

I laughed as I regrettably set the candy on the shelf and returned to the freezer section. I'd really psyched myself up to eat at least one of those sweets tonight. But I'd take a drink with an adult—a good-looking male adult—any day over spending the evening alone in a hotel room.

The girl didn't acknowledge us as we left, but I did see her flip the sign in the window above her head to 'Closed' and kept on reading her articles with the latest celebrity gossip. It had definitely not been fifteen minutes since I'd walked in there. I gave her another eye roll and followed the handsome stranger to the hotel's bar.

We ordered our drinks and found a table for two near the small fireplace in the lounge area that looked out on the lobby. The heat quickly took the chill from my body and hair.

I took a sip of my scotch on the rocks and tried not to sigh audibly as its smoothness coated my throat. Much better than what the club had been serving. "Thank you for rescuing me from a night of bad movies and unnecessary calories."

"I saw a damsel in distress and did what any gentleman would do."

"Do you always stake out the hotel lobby hoping to save the day?"

He tilted his own glass toward me. "Only when I notice a gorgeous lady."

Heat bloomed on my cheeks, and I tried to disguise my reaction by taking another drink. I glanced around at the open atrium. Watched the glass elevator start to rise from the ground floor. But I frowned when I noticed the couple inside kiss and grope each other without a care that anyone else below or on the balconies surrounding the atrium in its triangle layout could see them.

"Don't like your drink?"

"Hmm?" I turned back to my dark knight and saw his raised eyebrows. The tilt of his chin toward my glass when I raised it. "Oh, no. My drink's fine."

"Care to say what has marred that beautiful smile, then?" He took his own sip, looking so casual and sophisticated in his dark jeans, shirt, and blazer. The male version of my wardrobe. I noticed his designer shoes were even dark when he propped one up on the rung of his chair.

I coughed as I swallowed. Once I caught my breath, I waved my free hand at him. "Oh, just a little tired of the PDA."

He cocked his head.

"Public display—"

He chuckled. "I know what it stands for."

"The couple in the elevator," I said, noticing that the elevator car was now above my line of sight. "Doesn't matter."

"I take it you've seen quite a lot tonight? PDA?" His dark eyes seemed to scan down my body and then back up. At my slight gape, the corner of his mouth turned up. "You're damp. From the rain. I imagine it hasn't affected your dark blonde hair, though. It's a very becoming color for you."

I gulped. Was it suddenly hot in here?

"You don't look like you're dressed to lounge around a hotel. Nightlife didn't suit you?"

I shook my head. Remembered I could speak. "I'm here with friends for the weekend. But I'm the odd man out. Wanted a change of scenery."

"So you thought you'd come back here, to the hotel, where the atmosphere was more to your liking. Allowing you to hide out. Maybe for the rest of your stay."

I just blinked at him.

"Don't seem so alarmed. It's your body language." He took another sip and leaned toward me across the table. His voice was lower, almost conspiratorially, when he added, "It tells me a whole lot more than you're probably aware."

"Like what?"

I barely heard myself speak. Maybe because my heart was pounding in my ears by now. He'd not said anything even remotely suggestive—well, except that damp comment—but I suddenly felt as though he'd just asked me what color panties I was wearing.

"Like right now. How you're gripping your glass. You're nervous. And the way you keep looking down or around us but not at my eyes. You're shy. And you slouched when you talked about your friends. You're sad. Maybe regret having come with them. Your cheeks have pinked up since we sat down. It's not the alcohol. You're enjoying talking to me, but..."

Damn. My hand shook when I raised my glass to my lips. I kept my eyes on his mouth. Noticed the slight shadow around it, indicating he'd not shaved there today, although the rest of his face was smooth. It added a bit of roguishness to his charm.

His smile twitched, as though he knew I was studying it. I bit back a moan. Shifted my focus to my glass.

"Tell me, why are you nervous? We're just two adults innocently having a drink."

My eyes flitted up to his for a moment. Held his gaze. I opened my mouth, couldn't really think of an appropriate answer, and took another sip. The ice clinked inside when I set the glass down with a little more force than I'd intended. And I realized I'd drank all of my scotch.

He set his own empty glass down and laid his forearm on the table, his fingers curled casually between us. "May I be so bold to ask what your plans are for the rest of the night, now that I've ruined your one-woman binging party? Care to go back out again?"

I shook my head then realized he'd asked me two questions. "I want to stay in."

One eyebrow raised. "Planning to rent one of those movies in your room?"

Oh. My. God. I wanted to get up and run away, but my body wouldn't move.

He chuckled. Inched his hand closer to me. "I didn't say they were good. Just better than what was in the gift shop."

I gulped, staring at his hand now. Taking in how big and manly it was. How it would swallow up my own. And then I was suddenly wanting to know how it would feel to have him hold my hand. Even just briefly.

As though I'd spoken the words aloud, his fingers uncurled, offering his open palm. He didn't speak. He didn't move. He just...waited.

Like an invisible magnet, I moved my right hand from my glass. Gingerly, I touched him. Felt the tingle pass between us as I moved my fingers over his hand, his fingertips brushing against my palm. The warmth of his skin felt very nice as I relaxed my wrist. His fingers curled again, like a flower closing its petals.

And then we sat there, my eyes fixated on our linked hands. My breathing became more shallow. His breaths seemingly unchanged. The sounds from the TV over the bar filtered into my head. The soft clinking of bottles. Running water while the bartender straightened up. Low chuckles and indistinct conversation from the two men at the far end of the bar.

"You don't like Valentine's Day, do you?"

He'd said it so softly, but I'd heard it quite loudly in my head. When I didn't answer right away, he gently squeezed my fingers. I lifted my eyes to his and whispered, "I hate it."

"Because you're alone?"

I nodded slightly.

"What if you weren't?" His thumb stroked my knuckles. "At least for tonight."

There was no question now what he was suggesting. But how would I respond?

It wasn't like me to have a one night stand. I'd had boyfriends, though it had been years. A sudden hungering rose up in me. I was flattered...very tempted. He was so handsome.

"No strings attached. I don't know you. You don't know me. We can leave it at that. Just two adults..."

I let out a shaky breath.

"But I will tell you I don't normally loiter in the hotel gift shop picking up women. Or any place, for that matter. I'm here for a business conference. Not much of a clubber myself, and the rainy weather does not make good bedfellows with nighttime sightseeing. I was bored talking with my two friends and decided to wander around." He gestured over his shoulder to the guys at the bar. When I raised my eyebrow at him, he pulled the left side of his blazer open. "Go ahead. There's a card in my pocket."

I reached across the table and found just what he'd said. Saw his name was Matt and he worked for a well-known logistics firm. The same business name had been on a welcome sign I'd seen in the lobby when I'd checked in. I returned the card and sat back, feeling a little more at ease that he wasn't some guy who'd walked in off the street, following me. In fact, he hadn't shown any indication that he'd gotten wet, so he had to be telling the truth about being bored, at least. I wasn't about to go question those other guys.

"I would have gone for the Cherry Garcia, myself," Matt said in that lower, secretive voice.

I smiled at that. Giggled a little.

"Do you want to think about it over another drink? Or you can just tell me to go mind my own business. I don't want to pressure you." He released my fingers and started to pull away.

Something inside of me snapped to attention. I tightened my fingers around his and lifted my head, locking gazes with him. "I would like another drink, but we should get them to go. I don't need to think about your offer."

A grin slid across his face as he nodded slightly. He stood first, still holding my hand. I tried to gracefully climb down from the tall chair beside the high top table, and then we headed back to the bar.

Five minutes later, we were in the great glass elevator rising to the fourth floor where my room was. He held both drinks and hadn't asked the customary question in this situation, seeming to just follow my lead. We actually didn't speak at all. Sooner than I expected, we were standing before my door. I was surprised my hand wasn't shaking when I pulled the keycard out of my purse and slipped it into the slot on the door handle.

Inside, Matt removed his jacket, and we replicated our stance downstairs at the little seating arrangement in the corner of the room. I'd taken two sips before I sighed shakily. Unsure why I was able to flirt with him before, but now that we were up here... Maybe that was the problem. Being in my hotel room made it more real. I raised my eyes to his face.

He seemed to be studying me. "We don't have to do this."

"No, I want to. I just don't usually..."

He lowered his glass. "I know. Would it help if I took the lead?"

I nodded and took another drink for courage before he took my left hand off my lap.

"First, to even the playing field, can I ask your name?"

"Beth," I barely whispered. Then I swallowed and repeated it with more confidence. "It's Beth."

His smile broadened. "Very nice to meet you, Beth."

"You, too, Matt." The heat in my cheeks burned hotter. We'd upped the reality level another notch with the name exchange. Made it more personable. It helped relax me some, though only a little. Because I kept thinking I must be crazy. I was really going through with this. Oh, Lord, help me!

Still holding my hand, he rose from the table and waited until I stood as well. Then he stepped closer. Gently held my chin in his right hand. Leaned down.

Our first kiss was so light, I thought he'd just breathed on me. I leaned forward when he backed away, ignoring his soft chuckle and reaching my free hand up to grasp his arm. The muscles beneath his shirt were hard, but they moved under my touch, and that made my legs shake. My ankles wobbled in my shoes, so I toed off my heels. But that just made me even shorter to stand in bare feet.

At my whimper of frustration, he walked backwards—leading me by my chin—and sat on the end of the bed. There, at almost equal height now, he drew me closer to him and kissed me in that same barely-touching way.

I squeezed his bicep when he started to withdraw this time. Then I let out a soft cry as he pressed his lips harder against mine. My hands fluttered back and forth over his shirtsleeves when he released me and cupped my face, stroking the rise of my cheekbones with his thumbs.

When he spread his knees, I stepped closer to him. Felt his chest pressing against my mine, moving in time with my own labored breaths. His arms brought me tighter to him, and mine circled his neck.

He tasted of whiskey. Warm and smooth. Intoxicating, like his cologne that definitely had sandalwood and some kind of citrus blend. His hair was soft under my hands, his slightly-rough skin like it was stretched over low-voltage electricity whenever I grazed it with my fingertips.

Matt's tongue teased my lips until I opened for him, and then he explored my mouth while one large hand roamed my backside. Caressing, squeezing, arousing. From shoulderblade to hip. Ass and thigh then back to my spine.

I was trembling both within and without. The moment his other hand slid into my hair and tugged gently, my knees gave out. Suddenly, he was standing and lifting me up with him, his arm under my ass, somehow keeping our lips joined. I moaned into his mouth when he yanked back the covers and laid me down by the headboard, straddling me with one knee while he stood beside the bed.

He pulled back again, his smile intense while he started his exploration process again, just now down my front side. Drawing gasps and moans from me, his hand swallowed up my left breast. Stroked through my blouse and made my back arch. Moving on to my right side, he repeated the slow caress. Then down my abdomen. Across to my left side. Past my waist. Settling between my legs over my silky slacks.

Eyelids and hands fluttering, I reached for him. Cooing. Moaning for more.

He leaned down and kissed me again, acquiescing my wishes. Pressing harder, his thumb brushed back and forth over the material covering my mound. And then he bit my lip.

My eyes opened wide. There was a brief pause when his locked with mine. Something passed between us in that moment. Something that clicked inside me. Inside us both.

Gone were my inhibitions. Our leisurely pace suddenly kicked into overdrive. We were grappling for each other while he tried to remain in his half-kneeling, half-standing position. Panting. Hungry.

I tugged on him to get closer. He did me one better.