ONE NIGHT OF PLEASURE

An Erotic Military Romance Novella from

NY Times and USA Today Bestseller

Caridad Pineiro

She wasn’t the kind of woman who wore fancy dresses or did one night stands . . .

Bridget Sullivan preferred her Army uniform and work boots to elegant evening gowns. Getting all done up for some fancy Memorial Day gala wasn’t in her plans, but it’s hard to resist the thought of seeing handsome retired Navy Captain Mark Smith again. It also means spending time with the cadre of ex-military friends who have made her return to civilian life a little easier to handle. But when Mark presses for more, will she break her rigid rules for one sexy night?

The only thing he likes better than a woman in uniform is seeing her out of it . . .

Especially if it’s sexy Staff Sergeant Bridget Sullivan. Since meeting Bridget a month earlier, Mark Smith has been attracted to the gorgeous woman who seems intent on hiding her beauty and her courage. Bridget’s determination to make it in a usually male world, from her choice of the Army to her current construction job, intrigues Mark. When Bridget sheds her muddy jeans and sneakers for sexy high heels and a slit-to-there dress, Mark is more than willing to help her explore her new feminine side. But can one night of pleasure lead to more?

In this scene, passion has been building with Mark and Bridget during a slow dance at the gala and dinner. Now it’s time for dessert and maybe more . . .

When the waiters whisked away the plates for the main dish and laid out a decadent chocolate cake in front of them, she hesitated for a moment, drawing Mark’s attention.

“Not a fan of chocolate?” he asked, dragging a chuckle from Maggie, who was sitting beside her.

“Are you kidding? Bridget loves chocolate,” her sister said.

“Do you?” he asked, forked up a piece of her cake, and held it up to her lips.

She didn’t know why she felt like Adam being tempted by Eve. Maybe it was the challenging gleam in his icy blue eyes or the sexy little quirk of his lips. Regardless, she wasn’t going to pass up this challenge.

She laid her hand on his thigh and his muscles jumped beneath her palm as she leaned forward and ate the piece of cake off his fork.

The cake was sinfully moist and sweet. She swallowed, licked her lips and said, “Delicious. Try some yourself.”

She imitated his earlier action, forking up a piece from his plate and bringing it to his lips.

As she had, he laid a hand on her thigh, his calloused palm hot against the bare skin revealed by the slit in the leg. He swooped forward and snatched the cake off her fork.

“Sweet and creamy,” he said, but as he delicately rubbed his hand along her thigh, she suspected he wasn’t referring to the cake.

Mark moved his hand up and down her thigh, encountering the soft satin of her dress and her even smoother skin. Her body trembled beneath his caress and as he looked toward her plate to scoop up another piece of cake, it was impossible not to notice how the tight nubs of her breasts pushing against the fabric of her gown.

His mouth watered, but not from thoughts of the chocolate cake.

He offered her up another piece and she slipped it off the fork with her deliciously full lips, licked them, and he nearly came as he thought about her doing the same to his cock. Especially as she shifted her hand across his thigh.

He wanted her hands on him and to have his hands on her, but not here.

Leaning close, he whispered, “I’m ready to call it a night. How about you?”

She shot him a quick look before scanning the various couples, and Samantha, at the table. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m a little tired. Maggie wore me out with all her shopping today,” she said.

“Yes, we did do a lot of running around. I’m a little tired, too,” her sister chimed in, helping her out.

Maggie and Trevor popped up out of their seats and Bridget did as well.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll walk you to your room,” he said and shot out of his chair as well.

“I don’t mind,” she said with a secret kind of smile.

After goodbyes to their friends, they hurried out of the ballroom. Trevor and Maggie were in one tower of the casino, while Bridget was in the second. They exchanged hugs and handshakes in the lobby and went their separate ways, all of them eager for some time alone.

As they waited at the elevator bank, Bridget shot him an anxious look. “Are you sure about this?” she asked.

Mark had never been surer of anything, but it was obvious she was still hesitant. “I am, but if you’re having any doubts . . .”

The ding of the elevator’s arrival kept him from continuing and her from answering. They climbed on board, but once inside, went to separate sides of the elevator, almost like fighters in a boxing ring.

“This isn’t something I normally do,” she said, tightly gripping the metal rail on the elevator wall.

“Me, either, although you seem to think otherwise,” he said, puzzled by what was happening.

“The guys always talk – ”

“About all the women I’m with. I get that, but it’s part of what I do here for the casinos. You’re around guys all the time on the beach replenishment job,” he shot back and sauntered over until he was standing right in front of her, his gaze locked on hers.

“It’s different,” she said and glanced away, clearly uneasy.

The words were on his lips, ready to spill out, when the elevator jerked to a rough stop, jostling them together.

Darkness surrounded them for a brief second until a dim emergency light kicked on.

“What happened?” Bridget said and laid her hands on his chest to steady herself.

“Let me call someone and find out.” He reached beneath his tuxedo jacket, pulled out his cell phone, and speed dialed his employee who was on duty for the night.

The man answered immediately. “Good evening, sir. How can I help you?”

“Evening, Zack. My current situation is that I’m stuck in an elevator in the South tower.”

“Roger, that. Chatter is that there’s a transformer problem. Hold on while I check on when it’ll be fixed,” Zack said.

He could hear Zack talking to someone on another line and from what he could gather, it wasn’t good news.

“Zack?” he said and a moment later, the young man came back on. He turned on the speaker and tilted the phone so that Bridget could hear the reply as well.

“I’m sorry, sir. They say it could be as much as an hour before they get the power back. We’ve lost eyes in the elevators as well,” he said, referring to the closed circuit cameras. “Do you want me to send someone up to try and get you out?”

And give up an hour alone with Bridget in a nearly dark and very private elevator?

He skipped his gaze to hers and she shook her head to confirm that their rescue was unnecessary. “No, Zack. We’ll be fine. Just keep me posted if the situation changes,” he said and swiped off the cell phone.

“Are you sure?” he asked, wanting to be certain that she was fine with their unplanned captivity.

Am I sure? Bridget thought. She had never envisioned the night starting quite like this, but it made it impossible for her to change her mind about what she wanted: one night of pleasure with this amazing man.

“I’m sure, Captain,” she teased. Dragging up false bravado, she added, “You strike me as a resourceful man. I’m sure you can think of what to do to keep us occupied for the next hour.”

He huffed out a rough breath, laid his hand at the crook of her neck, and tenderly swiped his thumb across the line of her jaw. “They say that darkness heightens all the other senses,” he said, the tone of his voice low and husky.

She looked past him to the emergency light that cast murky illumination in the space. “Not quite dark.”

“Not quite. Close your eyes, Bridget,” he said, a hint of command threaded in his voice.

She examined his shadowed features, taut with desire. His crystalline gaze hot, irises wide with passion. As much as she wanted to lose herself in that gaze, she dragged her eyes closed, anxious for more.

Other Novellas in the Take a Chance Series:

STAY THE NIGHT, December 2014

TAKE A CHANCE Box set, November 2014

ONE LAST NIGHT, October 2014

ONE SPECIAL NIGHT, August 2014

JUST ONE NIGHT, June 2014

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

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