A Stormy Night Pt. 01

A/N: This story contains special fonts such as italics. Every person in it is eighteen and above.

Lightning illuminates my curtains, swiftly followed by a deafening rumble of thunder. Raindrops hammer down on the house, as if attempting to penetrate through just to get to me, and I hug the blanket tighter around my body.

What a great way to end my eighteenth birthday. All alone, huddled up in my bed with a plate that has a slice of cake on my lap as I watch Tell Me A Story. I was supposed to have a party but then this shitty storm decided otherwise and I had to cancel it. I would've gotten drunk with my friends, having the time of our lives, annoyed the neighbors with the amount of noise we would be making, and in the end I would be in bed giving my V-card to Jake Redwood, the hottest guy in school, which would have been the highlight of my day.

Life loves to fuck me over at times.

Sighing, I finish my Black Forest cake and decide to take another. I don't care how much weight I'll gain. If cake will help me feel better in the slightest I'll eat until I'm about to explode.

I head downstairs for the kitchen. Taking out the now semi-circular cake from the fridge, I set it down on the island table as the intercom buzzes, indicating that someone is at the gate.

My eyebrows furrow in confusion. Who could be out there in a storm like this?

I press the green button on the intercom to check. "Hello?"

"Hi!" the reply blares, causing me to jump. "I'm sorry to bother you but I was wondering if you could let me stay over just for the night?"

My first response is to say absolutely not, just because I listen to my parents when they say don't let strangers in. I mean, this guy could really be anyone, right? It would be unwise of me to just let him in.

But then lightning strikes as if it's right above us, thunder roaring its wrath only a split second after as if to make its point, making us both swear loudly, and I suddenly don't want to be responsible for making this guy suffer for a really long night.

With a reluctant sigh, I press the button for the gate to open for him. With a swift 'thank you' he disappears from the intercom. Heading for the front door, I wait until I hear the doorbell ring and unlock it, swinging it open.

And I have to say, I was not expecting this!

Exactly what is this? Well, a buff man who should be a bit over six-foot tall with a smile that must bewitch every woman or man he meets, rainwater making his dark chocolate skin glisten appealingly as he stands before me, exuding this aura of sexy confidence—or is it confident sexiness? Both ways, he's outright hot and I don't think I can breathe anymore.

"Thank you for letting me stay over," he says, his deep, mellifluous voice enchanting me even further.

"Umm... sure. Of course," I say a little too breathily as I let him enter. Closing the door behind him, I add, "There's a room with a bathroom you can use. I'll try looking for dry clothes for you."

"Thanks."

Leading him up the stairs, I can't help but notice his gaze on me. Well, I think he's looking at me, but that possibility is enough to make me tense. Suddenly, I'm hyperaware of what I'm wearing: a pink satin nightdress that my mother bought for me in Peru, its form loose but short as it ends just two inches below my waist.

Being around a good-looking person is like being in the presence of royalty sometimes, you know, and he is no exception.

When we reach the guest bedroom that happens to be only a couple of doors down from mine I say, "Just call me if you need anything."

He nods. "Thanks again."

Nodding, I leave a little too eagerly, shutting myself in my parents' room before I take a much needed deep breath.

Get a hold of yourself, Sandra! He's just a man like any other you've seen!

Despite trying to make myself believe that, my heart beats erratically at the thought of us being totally alone together. Shit! What am I thinking? He's a stranger I'm just helping out, nothing more.

Shaking some sense back into me, I go to the walk-in closet and head straight for my dad's side, hunting for clothes that could fit him. After a strenuous ten minutes, I only find sweatpants and an extra-large sweatshirt. Going back to his room, I knock on the door. A few seconds later he opens it.

Again, I was not expecting this!

What is this exactly again? He being completely nude except for a towel wrapped around his waist. He is still wet but most likely from the shower water, each droplet shining proudly on his bare skin like trophies. This time there's nothing I can do but wonder if he works out nearly every hour of every day. I mean damn! Every muscle has been primed to its full potential, unspeakable amounts of strength surging within them. His broad chest, bulging biceps, well-defined abs, slim waist; everything contributes to making my heart do endless somersaults.

I can't handle this much hotness. I really can't!

"Are those for me?" he asks, jolting me back to the real world.

I can only nod as I shove the clothes into his arms and hurriedly say, "I'll be in the kitchen if you want to eat."

I turn and leave him before he can even reply, rushing downstairs at record speed. If I don't calm myself soon I'll end up looking like an idiot. Well... a bigger idiot anyway.

I hunt in the fridge, wondering what I could give him. My eyes land on leftover chicken casserole and then he enters the kitchen.

This time I'm able to expect the fact that the extra-large shirt is in fact clinging to his form perfectly as he still looks like a god in the casual clothes. I look away despite my brain screaming for more of his beauty and ask, "Does chicken casserole sound good?"

"It does," he answers. "But is it okay if I have some of that cake instead?"

A little stunned that a guy with his kind of body can actually enjoy that amount of calories and sugar, I just say, "Sure."

He sits at the island table as I take a plate and a knife. "Name's Shawn, by the way," he introduces himself.

"Cassandra," I state. "But you can call me Sandra if you like."

He flaunts a sexy smirk. "Of course."

I look at him with confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Beautiful girl deserves a beautiful name."

I tense up at that. Is he flirting with me or just complimenting? Blushing, I say softly, "Thanks."

"Is today your birthday?" He spots the half-eaten eighteen on top of the cake.

"Yeah."

He gives me a sincere smile that warms up my chest. "Well happy birthday!"

"Not really."

I realize what I had just admitted and immediately regret it.

"How come?" he gently asks, slightly frowning.

It takes me a few moments before finally deciding on telling him. "My day didn't go exactly as planned because of this storm."

He nods in understanding. "If it makes you feel better, my birthday wasn't great either."

"Wait. Your birthday is also today?" I say disbelievingly.

"Yeah. Twenty-six now."

Really? He doesn't look anything older than twenty-two but I guess that explains why there's this experienced attractiveness cloaking him.

"Why didn't yours go well?" I ask.

"I didn't get cake," he confesses with mock sadness that forces laughter to burst out of me without warning.

"Oh wow! Really?"

He grins. "Hey! What kind of birthday would it be without a cake?"

I nod in understanding. "A terrible one."

After a bite of my cake, he says, "This is amazing!"

"Yeah, my caretaker is a great cook," I say fondly as I think of Mrs. Grayson. She managed to make me feel a little better about my party flop with a few jokes and reassurance that we'll try again next week.

"Is she here?"

"No."

His eyebrows lift in question. "Then you were alone before I showed up?"

I hesitate to reply. If I admit the truth, he might get some wild ideas, but if I lie he's bound to find out either way.

With a soft voice, I say, "Yes."

"What about your parents?"

"They're on a business trip."

One that would take four months if everything goes well. The reason why is because my parents are the proud owners of Crest Corporation, the top shipping company in all of America, and they love to head most deliveries personally. They leave me home alone a little too often I'll admit, but they're doing this so that I can enjoy a luxury life, I know.

Shawn gives me a sympathetic look, as if he knows exactly what I'm going through, and says, "Well, this should have been the perfect excuse for your boyfriend to come over then."

My breath hitches in my throat as my heart halts, his words slapping me. I feel my cheeks heat up and look down at my plate, unexpectedly overwhelmed with shyness.

"Umm... I don't... have a boyfriend," I confess quietly.

"A girlfriend then?" he prods, earning a shake of the head from me. "Wait. Are you telling me that a girl as hot as you is single?"

My face reddens even more at his frankness. "I—I'm not hot."

He shakes his head. "I know hotness when I see it, and you are simply it."

I look at him with a grateful smile, and can't help but praise his stunning looks. A firmly set, square jawline, a split chin, high cheekbones, crew-cut kinky hair, twinkling dark brown eyes, full lips that must have been sculpted to grant only the best kind of kisses make his features rugged yet somewhat gentle, and my mind drifts off to his wonderful physique, and then I imagine my hands running along the length of his body, leaving nothing untouched, worshipping him with my mouth at the same time...

A pleasurable tingle begins to form in between my legs, and I struggle to catch my breath as I continue fantasizing about him. Suddenly needing some time alone, I say, "Sorry. I'll be right back."

Quickly heading for my room, I lock myself in the bathroom, put my hand between my legs, and sink to the floor, taking deep breaths to try to calm my hammering heart down. God, it's frustrating to know that a complete stranger is able to get under my skin in no time at all! He isn't even trying for crying out loud! But here I am, virtually melting just by thinking of him.

If I had given my virginity away, I most likely wouldn't be feeling like this.

Certain that I have regained some control over me, I wash my hands and face, and making sure I look presentable I walk back to the kitchen. When I'm just six steps away from reaching ground floor, thunder explodes with no warning, shaking everything in the entire house as if it's wrapped around it. Everything becomes pitch black suddenly, and before I can recover from my scare I lose my footing and feel myself hurtling down the rest of the stairs.

I scream as I protect my head with my arms, tumbling towards the floor, and stay exactly in that position until I hear Shawn's concerned voice.

"Sandra! Are you okay?" he says, resting a light hand on my shoulder.

From nowhere, my ankle begins to cry with numbing pain, and I say in a weak voice, "My ankle..."

Without waiting any longer, he gathers me up in his arms, carrying me into the living room without bumping into anything as if he has cat eyes, and sets me gently down on the sofa before asking, "Where's your First Aid kit?"

"First cupboard... on your left... in the kitchen," I manage to say with a wavering voice.

He disappears and returns a minute later with the bag. Kneeling in front of me, he hands me his phone with the flashlight on and asks, "Which one?"

I shine the light on my right foot, and he gently cradles it in his hands. Pain prickles my skin when he lightly runs his fingers over the swelling area, and gently says, "It looks like you just sprained it."

Taking out some ointment, he tenderly massages it into my skin yet I still yelp, now convinced that nothing right was supposed to go right today.

"Guess I won't be doing ballet for a while," I say as nonchalantly as I can, wincing when he touches an especially sore place.

"Ballet dancer? You good at that?"

"Yes. The best of my class, in fact."

He chuckles. "Love the modesty."

"Hey, if I don't admit what I am, I won't become it, right?"

He nods in agreement. "Right."

Done with the ointment, he takes out a bandage and expertly wraps it around my ankle. I wonder what other skillful things those hands can do...

Damn it! Even when I'm hurt I still can't think straight with him!

When he's finished, he slips an arm underneath my knees and the other goes around my waist, lifting me up with him as he stands. With me lighting the way, he takes me up the stairs, looking like I don't weigh any more than a cat. Jesus, how strong is he? I can't even carry my own body up these stairs sometimes yet here he is, proving to me that the muscles aren't for show.

I lead him to my bedroom and he lets me down slowly onto the bed.

"Do you have any aspirin?" he says.

"Umm, I think there are some in your bathroom," I say.

Once more vanishing, he returns later with the pills and a glass of water. Thankfully taking them, I swallow the pills and gulp down as much water as I can, giving back the glass to his outstretched hand. Kneeling again, he softly asks, "Feeling better?"

I nod. "Thank you."

He smiles and looks at me as if he's chewing over something in his mind. I'm about to ask him what's up when all of a sudden his hand holds the side of my face. I freeze up, not knowing what to do. His thumb skims over my cheek, warmth spreading from his body to mine, and I feel my shoulders gradually drop in relaxation. A soft sigh escapes my lips, and I feel the same tingle from earlier before return to nest in between my legs.

"You really are gorgeous, Sandra," he whispers with admiration. "So much that it has destroyed all of my restraint right now."

My eyes widen in disbelief at what he just declared, wondering if I truly heard him right. When he sets his hands on my knees though, and begins to tantalizingly stroke my exposed thighs I realize that he actually meant what he said.

"Shawn... I—I don't think we should..." I struggle to say, his hands making my skin much more sensitive than normal, as if they are stimulating each cell to reality.

"We are all alone, baby, and the night can be ours if you let it."

He cranes his neck so that he places his mouth on my left thigh, making me instantly forget whatever protest I was about to speak. The immense heat emanating from his lips forces me to gasp as they roam over my leg, and the tingle begins to strengthen into an undeniable glow.

But still some part of my mind resists the urge to let him win me over. For Christ's sake, I don't know him! As sexy as he is, I don't want to just toss away my V-card.

"Shawn, please stop," I say weakly as I try to push him away. "I don't want—"

"Yes, you do," he interrupts, his hands clamping down hard on my hips, determined not to let me go that easily. "You've been giving me the same hungry stare from the moment we met, and I can tell that you want nothing more than that agonizing ache between your legs to go away."

My mouth opens but I have nothing to say. What can I say when I feel like he has read every thought in my mind?

"Don't try to fight it, baby," he urges softly, leaning in. "I'll make sure to give you the best birthday gift ever."

With that he places his mouth on mine, and any lingering resistance just dies.

Instinctively closing my eyes, I don't think as his talented mouth moves against mine, letting me know its sweetness, forcing out every other distraction out of my system to make me focus only on our own little world. No amount of another man's kisses could be as fantastic or delectable as this one kiss. It's like the best kind of dessert I had never had, each second even more staggering and breathless than the one before, and I don't ever want this kiss to end.

Placing his hand at the back of neck, he deepens the kiss, gently parting my lips before slipping his tongue into my mouth. Reluctantly, I welcome his tongue with mine, and moans of delight sound from deep within us. He expertly massages my tongue, almost as if leading it in some intimate dance, and coaxes all the whimpers and sighs I can make.

He's too much to handle—and we haven't even gotten far yet!

Suddenly he breaks the kiss, making me whine in disappointment. He gives me his racy smirk as he says, "Don't worry. I have better things to give you."

That simply makes my heart skyrocket to the sky, and I can't wait for him to show me.

His hands grab the backs of my thighs, lifting me further up the bed. Gently pushing me down on my back, his mouth returns but to bless the rest of my body, trailing scorching kisses on my forehead, cheeks, and neck whilst his seeking hands feel my body through the thin material of my nightdress. Gasps escape me when he drops butterfly-light kisses on my breasts, giving all his to one then the other, and my back arches in reflex as he repeats until the nipples have hardened and are proudly poking against the dress. His hands travel up from my knees to the hem of my dress... then continue underneath it to get to my waist. Slipping his fingers around my panties, he swiftly pulls them down my legs. My breath leaves me in a huff as he separates my knees with his hands, and with a naughty grin, he dips his head down between my legs.

"Ahh!" I cry out loudly when he licks up my pussy slowly, and moan when he adds pressure, feeling like I might be floating.

Setting his hands on my knees to push them further apart, he properly starts to devour me, switching from long tormenting strokes to hard quick laps, all of them never failing to add fuel to the fire that's now bolting from my groin to the rest of me, and I just beg him for more.

From nowhere, his fiery mouth closes around my swelling clit and he gives it a rough little lick, and my hands fly up to hold his head, keeping him right fucking there. Stabs of pleasure run alongside the fire, and when he slips in first one finger then another... ohhh... all my body does is thrash about in enjoyment.

My pussy automatically clenches his fingers with its life as he thrusts them in and out, gliding effortlessly from my wetness, and then I feel pressure develop in the pit of my gut, exponentially intensifying in strength with each wiggle of his fingers and suck of his lips and lick of his searing tongue until it's on the brink of explosion, threatening to tear me into pieces.

"Shawn..." I gasp out, my body writhing uncontrollably in a sensual dance. "Shawn... Please... Oh, Shawn..."

Understanding the need for my release, his mouth and hands switch places, his thumb pressing on my clit, its calloused skin giving extra friction as it moves in aggravating circular motions whilst his tongue attacks me with a vengeance, probing deep into me as it plunges in and out, and then the ball of tension expands just a bit more.

A spilt second of nothing, and then an eternity of everything crash down on me when I climax, shaking my entire being to the core. My scream fills the room, momentarily drowning out the storm's commotion outside, and I grip Shawn's head as if terrified of falling into nothing. Tears collect in my eyes and I continue to tremble as the flames of my orgasm gradually dwindle, giving me a chance to catch my breath after what seemed like ages.

When I drift back down to earth, he hovers over my body shirtless, showcasing his incredible muscles and that irresistible smirk on his face again, and he says, "You look more fucking gorgeous when you come."