Hot Houston Nights: Graham & Isabella Boxset

Yeah, girl. I can't believe you're actually out with us. Especially after being dumped by that drug-head, you've like totally kept to yourself.

Sigh. I didn't know he was a drug-head when I was with him. I trusted the guy. He was a wealthy trust-fund baby and he had picked me. I was with Chris, no Christopher, for three years. He hated it when people called him Chris.

He never let it show when he did drugs either, so I was so out the loop on that one. I hadn't learned of it until after he dumped me because I didn't put out like normal girls would. What the hell was normal? We had normal sex. If he wanted something with a little bit of kink, he sure as hell never told me anything.

So that was total crap. It wasn't until after he dumped me that I knew he had been with several girls that last year.

Thank God I got checked out by two different doctors to make sure he didn't spread anything to me. Asshat. He's lucky I didn't get anything.

That had been four months ago. Like Shelley said, after he dumped me, I hadn't gotten out in the real world and had any kind of fun. Just worked over at the town bank as a teller, then stayed home-reading my romance novels.

Why couldn't I find a man from one of the novels I've read? They seemed so damaged but perfect by the end.

The girls I went to the University of Houston with, kept sneering at me about how stupid I was for being depressed and that I should just get over him.

I really was, but I invested three long years into this guy. The apartment suite I lived in was among the things we shared. We got to know each other on a level that single people didn't. But then again, I got real educated about Christopher after I was sent to the cleaners.

And thinking about it now, I really did pay for everything when we were together. But I was okay with that. I didn't want a man paying my dues. Everything was in my name. I had a system and when I told Christopher about that system, he was all for not messing it up. That should've been a sign right there he wasn't good for me.

I guess he was a sponge. Sucking the life right out of me.

Tonight though, I wanted to prove to these girls that I could have a good time.

I wasn't in the mood to meet a guy though. Just drinks, some fun, maybe some dancing and then go home. Alone. Maybe a little tipsy where I throw in a Channing Tatum movie and fall asleep dreaming.

And here we were, at Club 9. The hottest club in Houston.

And unlike the other three girls I was with, who wore mini-skirts, or pleated skirts (yeah, like they were teeny-boppers...ugh) I opted for warmth, this cool November night. My black skinny jeans sat low on my hips and my only way of being ‘hot’ was my off the shoulder, blood-red blouse. The girls wore high heels and I wore my matching Converse all-stars.

Comfort over visibility. I didn't want to be noticed. A lot of chicks in this place came here to get noticed.

It felt like I was the only one who was way over-dressed.

The men in this club either wore a variety of suits, leathers, or jeans and tight shirts. Showing off muscular bodies and tight backsides.

Girl, what you need to do is get laid. A one night stand, said Veronica.

We made our way up to the bar, standing room only now, and waited to be addressed.

"Uh, no thanks. I don't do one nighters. I just couldn't. That's not-

Your style. We know. Chimed in Stella.

Out of our group, I was the chunkiest. Although I didn't consider my size ten to be anything other than healthy. I got wide hips and a bubble butt from my mom’s side of the family. I was short, stopping at just five foot three. I guess compared to the girls I hung out with, I was the chunky-monkey. Shelley and Veronica were cousins, so they were both a head taller. And Stella, who was half-white, half-black was a beautiful milk-chocolate, tall and had a body to match.

I swore they felt sorry for me sometimes, but we all met at college when we rushed for the same sorority.

Hey, ladies. What can I get for y'all? The Texas drawl of the bartender was honey-thick and the girls ordered shots while I ordered a fruity mixed drink. The bartender was quick with his hands and before we knew it our drinks were in our hands and we found a table close by-thank God. Tables did not stay empty for long here.

I had finished my first drink, when one of the waitresses came up to our table and said, This is from the gentleman at the end of the bar.

The girl reached across the table and sat the drink right in front of me.

Oh, my gosh. Me? Why would anyone send me a drink when the girls with me were total bombshells compared to me? Or more attractive.

Hey. Not to say I would need a bag over my head for a guy to fuck me, but I wasn't normally what guys went after.

Oh, man. Watch this guy be a total dog.

All four of us turned towards the end of the bar until we saw a man practically hidden from view. He was resting against the wall so we couldn't make out what he looked like.

However, I wasn't the kind of girl who took drinks from strange men.

I looked back up to the girl and passed back the drink.

Thanks, but no thanks. I don't take drinks from men I've never met and you might say this came directly from the bar, but I didn't see it get mixed. Go ahead and tell the gentleman he should try another girl.

My friends and the girl who took back the drink looked at me like I had lost my mind.

Maybe I had. But I read books and some of those were thrillers where the dumb girl gets drugged at a bar. No way. Not this girl.

2

Graham

Wow. Rejected by a female before she even saw my face. That was new for me.

I hadn't come here to meet a girl but when I saw her and the tall group of women behind her ordering drinks a few feet away, my dick came to life. She was all kinds of stacked and short, maybe with a little bit of flesh on her. She was dressed in clothes that stood out.

Most women here came to get recognized. Their clothes were short, their tops shorter. And it was in the fifties.

Not this girl though. She was practically telling the men in this room that she was off limits. Didn't stop me from sending her a drink.

I didn't normally buy random women drinks, but I wanted to see her reaction. Just as I thought as the waitress brought it back to me. The women at the table tried getting a look at me, but I was hidden within the darkness of the corner.

If she saw me, she might freak out. I had a scar from the right temple to my left jaw. My father was a mean, sick son a bitch who liked playing with knives when I was teen.

A lot of people thought I was scary-looking because the scar was puckered and still red. Like it was angry. Of course, if I had wanted, I could've had some cosmetic surgery and had it removed or at least looking like it wasn't the main facial feature I had. If a woman couldn't accept me for everything, then I didn’t need to be with her.

Now I leave that up for my only friend, Grant Moore. Who was supposed to be here, but hadn't shown up yet.

He knew all about my father and our dirty past.

Let's just say, my mother was barely legal when he knocked her up and after I was born, I heard whispers about his tendencies to go for much younger than my mother. I didn't have a clue what they were whispering until they came and arrested him. I was seventeen at the time and God knows how many girls he molested, tortured and killed. And buried in our back yard.

I only saw him during the summer as a kid. Mother took me and left him when I was two. We didn't move far but she didn't want anything to do with him. He was a real ‘upstanding citizen’. Yeah. Until they figured him out one fatal night.

Fuck. Enough about that sob story.

This girl intrigued me like no other before her. She was curvy, her dark brown hair that fell in layers to the middle of her back and clipped to one side with a glittery red rose pendant.

I wonder what she'd do and say if she saw my face. Looking over at her, my dick still throbbed painfully beneath the denim of my Buckle jeans.

Then my view was blocked by a broad shoulder. Some reason that pissed me off.

"Hey pal-

What's got you so worked up, Gray?

I looked up into Grant's face. Perfect.

Nothin' that concerns you.

Chuckling, Grant sat down next to me with his back towards the bar. He tried looking in the same direction as me and it didn't take him long before he knew where I was staring.

Hmm...Which Philly you looking at? The redhead, that sweet milk-chocolate or the pretty blonde?

None of the above.

His eyes whipped back to mine in confusion.

You're kidding right? The short, little, thick girl? She barely looks out of her teens. Ain't no way you're trying to tap that little stick of dynamite.

Shut your fucking pie hole, Moore.

Woot. Damn. Testy, ain’t we? Well, if you want that piece, get up and get it. It looks like she needs a good screw and so do you. When was the last time you got laid? Months? A year?

I pushed my drink upward and glared at him. He really knew how to rile me up. Even though he was basically right, I knew exactly how to ruffle his feathers in return.

Maybe I was tired of every girl who came to my bed, freaking out because I look like a fucking freak.

That was the quickest way in getting Grant to shut his damn mouth. Also, the quickest way to piss him off. Ever since I got this fucking scar, it’s like he’s been trying to be my hero...insert eye roll here. I didn’t need a hero.

Fuck them bitches, dude. If I was man-lover, I’d fuck you. Chicks dig that tough, scarred look. But I’m sure you wouldn’t be able to handle me.

Ain’t no one able to handle you. I feel sorry for the dame to get you in her hooks.

Yeah, well. I’m still young, have to sow every oat I can possibly sow.

I bet.

I looked back up to see her trailing her friends on the dance floor. Her friends became active and party happy while she just kinda looked lost. One of her friends grabbed her and they began gyrating against each other. My girl...hmmm...sounded like it had a good ring to it. My girl laughed and her face bloomed with uncertainty but also joy.

That’s when a few guys sauntered up to them and started dancing with her friends, basically leaving her out.

Now, that just wasn’t right.

I necked down the rest of my drink, slapped Grant’s back and with my face mostly downcast, I made my way to the one girl who set my soul ablaze.

3

Isabella

Great. I always ended up being the odd woman out. Stella did her best getting me into the dancing and now that men claimed each of them, I naturally faded into the background. With wary acceptance and disappointment, I slowly retreated. Thinking maybe I need something harder to drink. This was pathetic. I might not want to get with a guy but to not even get asked to dance was not making this night better.

Men never seemed to fall over me like that. Except Christopher. Definitely a mistake getting with that guy. I know that now, but it was a bigger mistake thinking I could come here and act normal and have some random, hot guy wanna dance with me. Freaking pathetic.

I was almost off the dance floor when firm hands hooked into my two side belt loops from behind and brought me against a firm body.

Need a dance partner, sweetness?

Holy cow. The guy behind me was nothing but broad muscle and strong hands. He had two fingers hooked in my loops and the other three long fingers I felt on my pubic bone, and they pressed me against his thighs. His body was hard behind me and it was like my whole body lit up.

He must be taller than me. Well, everyone was, but the average guy was only five feet ten inches. Maybe six foot, but when they were behind me, I felt their groin. Not this man. I felt the thick steel rod almost at the middle of my back.

Damn, sweetness. I hadn’t realized you were so tiny compared to me.

His lips skirted passed my earlobe, nipping the edge between his teeth.

Fuck. Me. That little bite sent a sexual bolt of lightning straight down my body until it hit my core. I felt my pussy tighten with arousal. Sweet mother, that voice could rattle cages.

Yeah, well, don’t judge a book by its cover, buddy.

Hmmm...I'll have to remember that, sweetness. For now, let's dance.

Crap. I had no rhythm. At all. Stella was the one who made me look halfway decent.

Uh. No, but thanks anyway. I should just go back to the bar and have some drinks.

Please don't. And don't be afraid when I say this, but I was watching you up here and noticed you weren't comfortable. I can make you feel real comfortable, sweetness. Just one dance.

The song that was playing was fast and I had no idea what to do.

This songs almost over. Don’t worry.

The song finished shortly after he said that and 'Skin’ by Rihanna came on.

Double crap. I couldn't dance to this song with a stranger. It was a sex song.

Is that a blush? Fucking beautiful.

His body began to move against mine, rocking my body and he took a hand and swept the stray hair that had come undone to the side. He dipped and his lips met the groove of my shoulder and I could smell his heady scent fill my nostrils. It was intoxicating. Sensual with a hint of musk and man.

His hands skimmed down and feeling his work-rough hands touch the bare flesh of my shoulder sent tingles throughout my body. Making me feel hyper alert. Gooseflesh sprinkled across my skin and his hands outlined the sides of my breasts which were starting to feel heavy. His hands slowly went down far enough to caress my thighs.

Holy mother, my pussy was aching from his touch. His thumbs hooked between my jeans and silk panties.

Teasing me with unhurried precision. His fingers massaging circles into the pockets…so close to the hood of my already damp vagina.

My head fell back and his breath was hot against my neck.

A small moan escaped my lips and his fingers got bold and traced the zipper seam down and gently circled my clit. It was light and was gone before I could do anything except let out a small cry.

The small orgasm raced through me from the contact and it was enough to make my body mold and press into him. Hits fingers contacted on mine and he groaned against my neck

Was that?

I couldn’t help but nod yes. And the dance became more intimate as he moved my body with his. He tucked his body down just enough for me to feel the hard ridge of his shaft against the cleft of my rear.

I really wanted to see his face now. The first man to make me come just by mere proximity.

Let me turn around, please.

He slightly stiffened, but I felt a heavy sigh skirt over my ear and cheek.

Keeping the closeness, he turned me and a large portion of his face was hidden. His head was bowed and the thick dark locks fell in a swoop over his face.

The side I could see...wow. This guy was so out of my league. Guys like this definitely don’t want girls like me. He looked like some Greek God. But then I could barely see him he was so damn tall. But he was built though like he worked out every day. Wide, broad chest and shoulders, the t-shirt material was stretched lovingly across his chest and the jeans he wore were thin, well-worn and hugged his body like a lover.

He brought me closer and I let the music take over. My arms found their way up and my eyes closed to the rhythm. His hands roamed over my body and I felt my nipples harden. I’ve never danced with a man who knew exactly how to maneuver my body to his.

When they cupped my backside and brought me up and into him, the rock hard erection I felt made my blood simmer. I did this to him. Score!

Could I do as the girls suggested? Have a one night stand? I kinda peeked behind him and saw when Stella, Vero and Shelley noticed me. Their eyes practically popped out of their heads. They couldn’t believe I managed to dance with a guy. A good looking guy, too.

Somehow, I felt triumphant. This guy reacted to me, too. Unless he was thinking about someone else-would suck beyond reason-his hard-on was from being with me.

Focus right here, sweetness. His eyes seared into mine. Intensity and lust fired behind those lashes and I was able to see a line, a scar stretch across his skin. Puckered and almost angry.

My breath must have hitched a second because he let go, right as the song was ending and hurried off.

I’ve never seen anything like it. I wanted to get a good long look at him. If he thought I was put off by it, he was mistaken. I was intrigued and the way he made my body feel was a first for me.

I wanted more.

Isa! Wait up, girl.

But I didn’t. I wanted to see him. I hadn’t wanted the dance to end and maybe that was just my luck that the first guy to ever approach me willingly, and had a good looking bod, too-would just run off.

I thrust my hand in the air and waved at them frantically and did my best to follow him.

However, being short, I lost him in the crowd.

Such an idiot. Of course it would be a sore spot for anyone. Having a scar be the prominent feature on your face could lead anyone to be insecure. Although the way he held himself didn’t show anything other than male, alpha masculinity.

I think I could’ve done it. One night stand with a guy who made my body strike a match and light me up. His scar meant little to me…as did his looks. Although those were always a plus, he made my body come to life before I even got a look at his face. For one night, I could have let go. I was clean. I would have asked if he was and we probably could’ve had hot, hard and fast sex. Then