One Time Only Read online

  One Time Only

  Lauren Blakely

  Little Dog Press

  Contents

  Also by Lauren Blakely

  About

  One Time Only

  Prologue

  Prologue

  1. Stone

  2. Jackson

  3. Stone

  4. Stone

  5. Jackson

  6. Jackson

  7. Stone

  8. Jackson

  9. Stone

  10. Stone

  11. Jackson

  12. Jackson

  13. Stone

  14. Stone

  15. Stone

  16. Jackson

  17. Jackson

  18. Stone

  19. Jackson

  20. Stone

  21. Jackson

  22. Jackson

  23. Stone

  24. Jackson

  25. Jackson

  26. Stone

  27. Jackson

  28. Stone

  29. Jackson

  30. Jackson

  31. Stone

  32. Jackson

  33. Stone

  34. Jackson

  35. Stone

  36. Jackson

  37. Jackson

  38. Stone

  39. Jackson

  40. Stone

  Epilogue

  Another Epilogue

  Also by Lauren Blakely

  Contact

  Copyright © 2020 by Lauren Blakely

  Cover Design by Helen Williams.

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book. This contemporary romance is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners. This book is licensed for your personal use only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with, especially if you enjoy sexy romance novels with alpha males. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  Also by Lauren Blakely

  Big Rock Series

  Big Rock

  Mister O

  Well Hung

  Full Package

  Joy Ride

  Hard Wood

  The Guys Who Got Away Series

  Dear Sexy Ex-Boyfriend

  The What If Guy

  Thanks for Last Night

  The Gift Series

  The Engagement Gift

  The Virgin Gift

  The Decadent Gift

  The Extravagant Series

  One Night Only

  One Exquisite Touch

  MM Standalone Novels

  A Guy Walks Into My Bar

  One Time Only

  The Heartbreakers Series

  Once Upon a Real Good Time

  Once Upon a Sure Thing

  Once Upon a Wild Fling

  Boyfriend Material

  Asking For a Friend

  Sex and Other Shiny Objects

  One Night Stand-In

  Lucky In Love Series

  Best Laid Plans

  The Feel Good Factor

  Nobody Does It Better

  Unzipped

  Always Satisfied Series

  Satisfaction Guaranteed

  Instant Gratification

  Overnight Service

  Never Have I Ever

  Special Delivery

  The Sexy Suit Series

  Lucky Suit

  Birthday Suit

  From Paris With Love

  Wanderlust

  Part-Time Lover

  One Love Series

  The Sexy One

  The Only One

  The Hot One

  The Knocked Up Plan

  Come As You Are

  Sports Romance

  Most Valuable Playboy

  Most Likely to Score

  Standalones

  Stud Finder

  The V Card

  The Real Deal

  Unbreak My Heart

  The Break-Up Album

  21 Stolen Kisses

  Out of Bounds

  My One-Week Husband

  The Caught Up in Love Series

  The Pretending Plot (previously called Pretending He’s Mine)

  The Dating Proposal

  The Second Chance Plan (previously called Caught Up In Us)

  The Private Rehearsal (previously called Playing With Her Heart)

  Seductive Nights Series

  Night After Night

  After This Night

  One More Night

  A Wildly Seductive Night

  About

  A fiery, passionate MM romance novel from #1 New York Times Bestselling author Lauren Blakely...

  Ever hear the story about the bodyguard who falls for the rock star?

  Yeah, it never ends well.

  Each day I remind myself that it's my job to protect Stone. And nowhere in the job description does it say I should lust after the charismatic, charming man.

  Especially since we're opposites.

  But every night I spend with him the dangerous, off-limits attraction grows more intense.

  Until one night in a limo when we combust.

  One time only will have to be enough. One scorching, forbidden night.

  Because the mistakes from the past are chasing me. And if I give in again, I'll lose everything.

  But sometimes you grab hold of the desire. And other times, the desire takes hold of you.

  No matter the cost.

  This book is for my family.

  For those before me who didn’t feel safe to love freely—the world is becoming different.

  For my Aunt, who came out before I was born and who taught me so much by example about living truthfully.

  And for my husband who, like me, also believes love is love.

  Because it is.

  One Time Only

  By Lauren Blakely

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  Prologue

  Stone

  Some men are just hot.

  The kind of hot that’s hard to look away from. The kind that stops you in your tracks.

  That makes your mouth water.

  That’s so damn hard to resist.

  Like, say, off the top of my head, the man next to me when my concerts end. The man waiting to walk me offstage. The man by my side nearly every day.

  I swear someone is trying to test me by putting him next to me.

  Oh, wait.

  That’d be me, since I hired him.

  So it’s a damn good thing I’m the king of resistance. I can stay strong in the face of plenty of life’s temptations, and I frequently do.

  When a man is hands-off, you keep your damn hands off him.

  Case closed.

  Eyes though? That’s a whole other story.

  It’s too damn hard not to check the man out or steal furtive glances at him. Or maybe not-so-furtive glances.
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  Fine, fine. Some of my stares are shameless.

  But I’m not the only one enjoying the view.

  The whole freaking internet is.

  Hell, I’ve seen the pics the paps snap of us. Shots of him walking next to me on the streets of Manhattan, Paris, London, and Madrid. Images of the guy standing by a limo as I step out of it. Cell phone shots of us in airports, heading past security.

  Because that’s how it goes when your bodyguard is a stone-cold fucking fox.

  But like I said, he’s off-limits.

  Because of the job.

  And also because of, ya know, the fact that I don’t think he’s into that. Into dudes.

  So I keep things fun.

  Light. Breezy.

  We shoot the shit. I give him a hard time because it’s fun AF to wind him up. But I never cross the line, even in my fantasies, since what’s the point? The world is full of beautiful men and women, and I don’t need to salivate over someone who’s not rolling the bedroom dice the same way I am.

  Until the night I discover I’m wrong.

  And I learn he’s so into all the things I’m down for.

  Every. Last. One.

  That’s when I have to learn a whole new meaning of the word “resist.”

  Only, I’m not so sure I can.

  Prologue

  Jackson

  Nobody would ever accuse me of being laid-back.

  The word “chill” has never been applied to yours truly.

  But that’s okay. There’s not really a thriving job market for an easygoing, laid-back, relaxed . . . bodyguard.

  “Easygoing” is the opposite of the job qualification.

  Words that people use to describe me would be more like “intense,” “focused,” and “dedicated.”

  That’s what clients want.

  They don’t want someone who’s all “water off a duck’s back,” and “no big deal.”

  Everything in my line of work has the potential to be a big deal, and my job is to be vigilant.

  That’s why I’ve learned not to sweat the small stuff.

  Shit that would irk me years ago doesn’t even register as a blip on my radar anymore.

  I don’t get worked up about everyday annoyances like slow Wi-Fi, stalled traffic, people canceling on you, or people not canceling when you want them to.

  Life’s little irritations aren’t worth obsessing over.

  But . . . there’s one thing that’s driving me crazy.

  One thing I desperately want to let go of.

  It’s like a fever.

  Give me the pill, the antidote, the IV solution stat.

  Hell, give me the goddamn vaccine, and I’ll inject it myself right now.

  Because there’s one inconvenience I simply can’t shake, and it’s this—being unfairly, ridiculously, insanely attracted to the guy who signs my paychecks.

  That’s the problem I want to solve. That’s the riddle I must unravel. Because, dammit, I need to find a way to extinguish this irresistible pull toward my boss. The tall, tatted, tempting man who pays my bills. The guy with the sexy-as-sin stubble, the athletic build, and the magnetic smile.

  I would like to find any way out of this desire that doesn’t involve pinning him up against the wall, kissing the breath out of him, and having my way with him.

  Anything.

  The golden rule of my profession is this—never ever fall for your client.

  I never have. And I never plan to.

  Because any kind of physical connection between us, any foray into this unexplored terrain of dangerous lust, could push me to my breaking point.

  And then, it happens.

  One night in a hotel when he fans the flames of my jealousy. Then push comes to shove.

  And I have to decide if I’m going to let go of the attraction.

  Or if the attraction is going to take hold of me.

  1

  Stone

  I like to indulge. I could say it comes with the territory. As a rock star, excess is a daily item on the menu, and it’s one I love to order du jour.

  It’s a course I’m quite fond of.

  And my indulgences are highly specific.

  I don’t eat meat. I don’t do drugs. And I have zero interest in fast cars.

  But I do like one particular thing more than anything else. Or, really, one particular . . . everything.

  Bodies.

  Flesh.

  Skin.

  Beauty.

  And what comes with them.

  Sex.

  Sex is my jam. It’s my oxygen. It’s life. Sex is my all-time preference, with music being the only thing that’s even in close contention.

  My appetite is voracious for both. I’m up for any genre of song. I’m down for any position, and any person, in the bedroom.

  I’m an omnivore. There’s an open-door policy at Casa de Stone.

  Men, women, men and women, women and women, men and men—all combos are good in my book.

  And I aim to make it good for everyone involved.

  Like tonight.

  This most epic night starts with a killer show at The Extravagant hotel in Las Vegas. One where I play my heart out on my Strat and where I sing like it’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.

  It’s a dope concert. The crowd is magnetic. There’s all sorts of magic in the audience.

  And it only gets better with the after-party.

  The kind in a penthouse suite as orgasms abound.

  There are orgasms for everyone. We hand them out like Oprah tossing out keys to cars.

  A good time is indeed had by all.

  And a necessary one, since my longtime BFF asked me to do him the solid of playing second banana in a trio with his woman.

  Ivy wanted this three’s-a-charm combo. It’s her fantasy—to be serviced by two men at the same damn time. Honestly, it’s a fantasy for a lot of women, and it’s one I’ve been damn lucky to dabble in and deliver on a few times over the years.

  At tonight’s fiesta of fucking, no swords cross, and that’s fine by me because I’m there to please her.

  That’s what my friend’s woman wants—to be lavished with cocks and tongues all over her beautiful body. We give that to her, and I know she’s falling deeper in love with my buddy for being man enough to serve up all her dirty fantasies on a silver platter of sex and love.

  Everyone leaves the suite happy.

  Now here I am, the clock ticking close to midnight, stretched out in a swank booth at a plush The Great Gatsby–era speakeasy on the main floor of this luxury hotel smack dab in the middle of Sin City.

  With my hot-as-hell bodyguard by my side and the two lovers across from us. Callum and Ivy are googly-eyed and lovey-dovey. They can’t take their eyes off each other.

  It’s nauseatingly wonderful, and I love it.

  I nudge Jackson with my elbow. “I’m a wizard. I am motherfucking magic,” I say, pleased as punch and proud of my work here tonight. I’m a dirty cupid, firing arrows of true love dipped in fiery sex.

  “Yes, I’m sure it was your wand that did it,” Jackson retorts in that deadpan tone of his. He is a master of the deadpan.

  I wiggle my brows. “My wand knows all sorts of spells. I mean, just look at them,” I say under my breath as Ivy tangles her fingers in her bodyguard’s hair, tugging Callum closer for a smooch.

  “Hard to look elsewhere when they’re literally across from us.”

  “C’mon. Even you, Mr. I Don’t Blink, can’t resist the sight of true love. I bet it’s melting your cold black heart.”

  He shoots me a chilling stare. We’re talking freezer-burn levels. “Do you want me to blink?”

  He makes a fair point.

  “Maybe not,” I admit.

  “Good. That’s what I thought.”

  “But I dare you to admit your heart is turning into a puddle in that steel-encased chest of yours,” I say, goading him.

  The tiniest laugh escapes from his lips, but the stoic man
shakes his head in denial. Still, I catch the sliver of amusement in the slight lift of his lips.

  I’m grinning too, since my peeps are on their path to happily ever after, and they sure look like they need to be alone. Maybe they need permission too—the reminder that the double-dick party is over and that it’s more than okay for them to be by themselves.

  I clear my throat. Loudly. Dramatically. Ivy and Callum look at me, a little chagrined. “Yoo-hoo. Your suite is upstairs. Time to get your pretty asses out of here.” I wave toward the exit, shooing them. “Be on your merry way, lovebirds.”

  Ivy gives me an are you sure look. “You don’t mind?”

  “I am all good, Ivy. One hundred percent. Go do your thing,” I say, clapping Jackson on the shoulder to show just how good I am without them. “I’m going to grab a nightcap with J-man. If he’ll have one.”