Unexpected Intimate Encounter

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I don't really know what I was expecting, and it sure as hell wasn't this. Whatever this's even better than I could have imagined. The mystery, the anonymity, the sense of excitement that has reawakened something in me that I haven't felt in what seems like a lifetime ago. The way his hands caress my body, his fingers gently tracing along my skin; my lips against his neck and hands in his hair, wanting him the way he wants me... I'm learning to love the unexpected... **** Still recovering from the heartbreak of a failed engagement, Kristine reluctantly agrees to a girls night out. A night that is meant for her to let loose and forget about her unsuccessful dating life, leads Kristine to meet a mysterious stranger who brings her body back to life in ways she didn't believe possible. This unexpected intimate encounter leads to much more with a man she knows only as E.


chapter 1

Name: Kristine Chase

Age: 25

Location: Chicago

Career...Education...Political Views...

I purse my lips and stare blankly at the questions before me. I'm getting tired of repeatedly sharing this information, and each time the questions appear to grow more specific. Bumble, Tinder, Match. App after app, failed date after date. What's the point?

I lounge comfortably on the couch in the living room of my small, one-bedroom Chicago apartment, enjoying the company of my best friend, Kate. It's a Saturday night and the lights of the city shine through the open window, flowing in with the cool spring breeze. I'm dressed comfortably in leggings and a loose sweatshirt with my hair tied in a messy bun on the top of my head, the usual attire for a girl's night in. Kate emerges from the kitchen, drinks in hand. She places a glass of wine on the coffee table in front of me. I drop my phone onto the couch and pick up the glass, swirling the red liquid around a few times before taking a long swig.

"Do you think you are ready for a relationship?" Kate asks.

"I really don't know if, or even when, I'd be ready to get into a relationship. A year ago I thought I would be married. And well, we see how that's turned out." I say with a wave of my hand.

Kate scoffs and sits down, tucking her legs under herself and gets comfortable on the cushion beside me. "You two would have been married and divorced within a year, and we both know that. He wasn't good for you, he never was."

I'm quiet for a moment, taking another sip from my glass. I shudder at the memory of his final words to me, the sickening feeling of watching his suitcases fill with his belongings, and how empty my left hand had felt once my ring had been removed.

"Maybe I'll just stay single... Be that fun aunt who gets drunk every holiday and talks about how happy she is without a man," I mutter. I was only half joking.

I want a relationship, of course. At this age, everyone around me seems to be getting engaged, married, and announcing pregnancies. It's natural that I want that for myself too. But here I am, still wallowing in my heartbreak a year later, thoroughly convinced I will never love or be loved by another man again.

"Unacceptable. You won't be doing that." Kate draws me out of my moment of self-pity and picks up my phone. She scrolls through it. I watch as she swipes left multiple times before pausing to evaluate a more promising profile.

"Well, see he's cute!" she says after a few swipes. Kate turns the phone so I am able to see the screen. I bite the tip of my thumbnail as I examine the man's profile. Tall, dark hair, brown eyes, 27, good career—

Checking off all of my expectations so far... Shit.

"See his political party?" I point out to Kate smugly before bringing my wine glass back up to my lips.

She rolls her eyes. "Why do you have to be so picky, Kris?"

I laugh. "I have plenty of reasons to be!"

Kate downs the rest of her wine and places her glass on the table. She stands up and turns to look at me. "Alright, new plan. We're not staying in tonight."

"What do you mean we're not? Kate?" I spit out.

Kate leaps from the couch and crosses the living room, making her way to the back hallway where my bedroom is located. I hear her rummaging around and sliding through hangers in my closet. I'm not sure what it is she's searching for, but she seems to have something in mind.

"No, no, no... Yes!" she says excitedly.

My curiosity gets the best of me and I join Kate in my room. Hangers full of shirts, pants, and dresses are thrown into a pile on the navy blue bedspread. She's on her knees digging out shoes from the floor of the small closet. I shake my head in disbelief as she rises to her feet, heeled shoes in hand. She snatches the clothes she's decided on and shoves them into my arms.

"What is this for?"

"Put that on, we're going out." She grins mischievously.


"Remind me why we're here again?" I shout to Kate over the club music. She had decided on a small bar in the city, one known for good music and cheap drinks which seems to be exactly what we need for our girl's night out. I can feel the bass pounding in my chest, the smell of alcohol and sweat engulfs us. By now we're a handful of shots in and I am feeling a buzz. Kate pushes another drink into my hands, I can barely make out her silhouette in the colored lights illuminating the dance floor. I notice her face light up as she meets the eyes of a tall, blonde-haired man across the room. I can't place him, but he looks familiar. There's good chance he may be one of her tinder matches from earlier in the night. She pushes another drink into my hands.

"It's a Saturday night. We're single, we're hot, and we're ready for fun!" Kate laughs. She holds her drink in the air and begins moving her body to the rhythm of the music. She extends her hand and motions for me to join her. "Don't leave me hanging, come on!"

I take a few gulps of my drink, purse my lips, and shake off the burn of the alcohol. I move my body to mirror hers. Kate turns her back to me and grinds up against my hips.

"This is what the guys like to see!" Kate shouts. I laugh in response, but notice a few eyes peering in our direction.

I feel ridiculous, but she was right. I am in need of something fun, a night to just let loose, and not have to worry about men and relationships.

Despite emptying my entire closet, Kate had done well picking out my clothes for the evening. Black heeled sandals, dark ripped jeans, and a low, revealing black lace tank top. Thankfully I have the breasts to fill it out, as the top shows an acceptable amount of cleavage, but I'm not falling out of it. The material of the shirt clings tightly to my body, accentuating the varying curves of my hips and stomach. When arriving at the bar, I felt self-conscious being out in public in such an ensemble. I had never been one to "dress to impress" and the words of my ex are still fresh in my mind, reminding me that no man would find my curves and extra weight attractive.

And I was going to marry that son of a bitch.

I shake my head, trying to clear the memory of his harsh words. I close my eyes and move to the beat of the music. Sliding my hands up and down the length of my body. I feel good, I feel sexy and confident in my body, which is something I haven't felt in years. I run my hands up the back of my neck and through my long brown hair. Kate insisted I curl it for our evening out, and the ringlets are held in place with layers of hairspray. She had taken her artistic skills to my face quickly after doing my hair, not allowing me time to protest. Kate had drawn a heavy line of black eyeliner along my eyelid, lightly tracing another on the waterline below my eye, before brushing mascara through my lashes, lengthening and defining them. She lightly contoured my cheeks, tracing with a thin swipe of highlighter along my cheek bones. Her final touches consisted of a dark, red lip color. This shade of red has never been one to suit me, but it's a staple for Kate. Once her lips are painted you know it's going to be a night you won't forget, or in some cases, a night that you have to piece together in order to remember.

Kate and I continue to dance together, song after song of the most recent pop hits, and we quickly finish our drinks.

"I'm ready for another, are you?" I ask her. She smiles and hands me her empty glass then nods toward the same blonde man she had spotted earlier.

"You never know when you'll stumble across a tinder match." She shrugs.

I knew I had recognized him!

She looks between me and him once more. "I'm going for it!"

"You better, or someone else will!" I shout back.

I push my way through the crowd of sweaty bodies, back up to the bar. I rest my elbows on the sticky surface and wait for my turn to order. I watch the people around me as they dance, converse, and drink. A young group of girls, freshly twenty-one, toast and throw back their shot glasses. A group of young guys watch them from the corner of the dance floor, eyeing up whichever lucky girls they might be able to convince to go home with them. A few men older than what you'd expect to see in this crowd catch my eye, beers in hand and laughing, simply enjoying their Saturday night like the rest of us. My eyes wander back to Kate, already locking lips with the man she had met barely five minutes prior.

I smile and shake my head in amusement. My best friend's confidence always amazes me, she never hesitates to go for what, or who, she wants. Her fair looks constantly catch the attention of men anywhere we go. Tonight, Kate is dressed in an emerald green, low cut shirt, black leather pants, and heeled boots. She exudes confidence in every move she makes. How could anyone resist a tall, beautiful woman with red hair that matches such a fiery personality?

A firm hand on my backside snaps me out of my alcohol induced trance.

"What the fuck?" I turn to see who the hand belongs to.

A tall, large bodied man stands in front of me. I look him over. He has greasy hair, a matted beard, and the smell of cigarettes wafts from his clothes and breath.


"Hey baby. With an ass that nice I couldn't help but check to see if it feels as good as it looks." His words slur together and he stumbles forward, his free hand brushing against my breast.

I grimace and pull his hand off of my body, his behavior painfully reminding me of my ex's. It wasn't unusual for him to come home drunk, slurring his words in my ear and settling himself uncomfortably close beside me.

"Get your fucking hands off of me." I snap, taking a step back. "And don't touch me again."

He holds his hands up in the air innocently. "I didn't mean any harm, beautiful, only trying to get your attention." He slides his arm around my waist and pulls me closer to him.

"This sure as hell isn't the way to do it! Let go of me!" I push against his chest, attempting to loosen his grip on me.

The muscles in his arm tense, holding me tighter. This triggers something in me, my breathing quickens and I search desperately for an escape.

"Come on now, don't be like that." He breathes heavily into my ear.

I attempt to push him away once more, "I said—"

"She said let go." A firm, confident voice comes from the other side of the belligerent man.

He turns to face the person that had interrupted his harassment. "Excuse me, this lovely lady and I are just having a chat."

"I don't think I would call that a 'chat.'. She said, 'Let. Go.'" The heroic stranger pushes the repulsive man away from me. He stumbles back, scoffs, and returns to the dance floor eyeing up his next target.

I step away from the bar and take a moment to recollect myself, steady my breathing, and straighten out my shirt. "Thank you," I say to the stranger.

He smiles and nods. "It's not a problem. It's not the first time I've stopped a man like that and, unfortunately, it probably won't be the last."

I nod and cross my arms over my chest. The stranger appears friendly, protective almost, based on the way he inserted himself into the situation. His voice is calm and reassuring after experiencing such an unwanted encounter. We stand there in an awkward silence, unsure of what to say to each other. I avoid meeting his eyes.

"I don't want to be too forward," he finally says. "But can I buy you a drink?"

I look back at Kate, who already has a fresh drink in her hand.

"I mean, it's fine if you don't want me to, especially after your encounter with a douche bag like that—"

"Vodka lemonade," I tell him, cutting off the rest of his sentence.

He smiles and nods. "Vodka lemonade it is."

I watch as the stranger saunters back to the bar, holds up two fingers to signal the number of drinks he would like to order and politely pays the bartender before returning in my direction. He hands me the drink with a smile but I turn my head toward the dance floor as I bring it to my lips. I quickly down it, welcoming the sour burn. I open my mouth to speak but before I have the chance to start a conversation Kate grabs my arm.

"Get back out here, you're missing all the fun!" she squeals, her eyes darting to the stranger and back at me.

"Thank you again!" I shout to him as Kate pulls me away. He smiles and holds his drink up, as if to say "cheers."

I'm feeling more than just a buzz. Based on the way the way my body is inclined to sway and how the illusion of the lights swirling around me, I've determined I'm completely drunk. Kate and I dance, laughing and moving our bodies in a way that probably isn't considered a dance at all. We sing to the music, not giving a shit how horrible we look or sound.

Kate's tinder date returns to her and brushes her hair away from her face, leaning down to whisper something in her ear. Her eyes widen and she looks back in my direction. Her expression seems to be asking permission to leave. I don't know what the man had said but it is clearly an invitation Kate is dying to accept.

"Go!" I laugh, waving her toward the door.

Kate gives me a swift kiss on the cheek before she disappears with her match. I check my phone to make sure her location is shared with me and slide it back into my pocket. This isn't the first time Kate has left the bar without me and I honestly don't mind. As long as she's being safe, I encourage her to enjoy herself. Our deal when this happens is making sure our locations are always shared with each other, a precaution that most women take these days.

I close my eyes and begin to dance again, feeling the pounding beat of the music while I sway and move my body against empty air. I begin to feel dizzy and stumble over my own feet. I fall into someone's arms before I hit the floor. I look up and there he is. The stranger, my hero of the evening once again.

"Oh!" I say breathlessly as his arms tighten around me, supporting my weight.

"Are you alright?" he laughs, helping me stabilize myself. I hold my arms out as I regain my balance.

"Having a bit too much fun, I guess." A feeling of embarrassment rushes through me, my cheeks burn. I laugh, trying to shake it off.

"There's not a problem with that!" the stranger says. "You look a little lonely though. Dance with me?" He extends his hand.

My first instinct is to say no. I try to make up an excuse to turn him down but fail to come up with one. I look around the room and back at him.

Fuck it. I nod, placing my hand in his.

We make our way to the middle of the dance floor. I sing along to the music and rotate my hips in rhythm with the beat of the music. I reach my arms up and rest them on the stranger's shoulders. His hands cautiously venture down to my hips. He holds them and mirrors my movements. I step closer and he pulls me against him. My chest presses to his and his nose is mere inches from mine. We continue to dance, our bodies moving in sync with each other.

I bring myself to look into his eyes for the first time, making out what I can in the flashing lights. They are a soft hazel color framed by long eyelashes. I examine him further, taking in the features of his face. He has defined cheekbones, a sharp jawline, and the slightest shadow of stubble along his chin. A friendly smile spreads across his lips and I catch flecks of his light brown hair. I keep one arm resting on his shoulder, the other way works its way up to the back of his head, which he drops down to rest against mine. He's tall, at least six foot, compared to my five foot five inch stature. His arms are firm and muscular, his shoulders broad, and his chest defined through his shirt.

Damn. This man is beautiful.

I rotate my body, my back now against him, and begin grinding my hips. I can feel him harden against my backside and a smile pulls across my lips.

Well, that's a much needed confidence boost.

His hands begin exploring. His fingers drift away from my hips, brushing along the sides of my breasts and back down again to guide the speed and movement of my body against him. I drag my bottom lip between my teeth and let out a deep breath. I've never been touched like this in such a public and open space. But his hands are friendly and I ease at the soft caress. I look around the dance floor, noticing other pairs with their hands on each other in a similar fashion and the slight twinge of my embarrassment fades.

I lean my head back, resting it on his chest. I reach up behind me, holding my hand at the base of his neck. My other hand folds on top of his, a firm grasp on my waist. I'm feeling dizzy again, but I'm cognizant enough to know that I don't want this to stop. Suddenly, I feel his soft lips against my neck, his warm breath tickling my skin, sending goosebumps down my spine. My body tingles, I haven't been touched like this in a long time. In a swift movement, the stranger spins me around to face him.

I gasp in surprise.

"Do you want to get out of here?" He asks, amusement reflecting in his hazel eyes.

"Immediately," I nod, a little too eagerly.