Checking the mirror one last time, I nodded in approval of my appearance.

Long, honey-blonde hair up in a stylish twist – check.

Smokey look to give my large green eyes a “come hither” effect and red “don’t you want to fuck this mouth” lipstick – check.

Ivory bustier and a barely-there thong – check.

Floor-length, strapless, gold vintage gown (Damn, the girls look good…) – check.

Sexy as hell nude stilettos – check.

Matching gold, beaded clutch containing a fresh pair of underwear, deodorant, and condoms – check.

If you were wondering, the answer is “Damn straight I was looking to hookup tonight.”

I grabbed an ivory silk wrap and headed out of my condo, locking the door behind me. My best friend’s wedding was in Midtown, Manhattan at The Peninsula New York Hotel. It was black tie and open bar, which translated to guys in tuxedoes and liquid courage. Thank you, Selena. The hookup was her idea anyway.

I’d never been a one-night stand kind of girl, but after a series of deadbeat boyfriends, followed by two years of celibacy, I was ready to take Selena’s advice.

“You need to have a single wild night with a hot stranger” she’d said while we were shopping for my dress. “You need to be uncorked, sweetie. And, Mario has plenty of friends with the right cork-screw.” She gave me a saucy wink before pulling another gown from the rack. Rather than choosing a single style and color for her bridesmaid’s dresses, Selena had decided to let us pick our own with the only requirement being that it was vintage, 50’s glam. She was the fashion designer, and I was hopeless in that department, so I’d pleaded with her to help me find my dress.

It was a gorgeous summer evening, and a slight breeze ruffled the fringe of my wrap. As I walked toward the subway for the ride uptown from my West Village apartment, I carefully held up my skirt, keeping the hem away from the grime on the New York City sidewalks. I probably should have changed at the venue, but not only was I running late, but I’ll also admit, my vanity was in charge, and I wanted to show off my dress to more than just the wedding guests. Unless you’re rich or in politics, it’s rare that there is an occasion to dress so spectacularly.

A block from my building, I took the stairs down to the underground entrance of the subway. I swiped my card and maneuvered through the turnstile, narrowly avoiding brushing the fabric of my dress against the metal cylinders. The subway Gods were smiling down on me because a train was pulling into the station. It was late afternoon on a Sunday, so the cars weren’t packed tight with people.

I entered the train and eyed the seats. Yeah, who knows what has been all over those…I decided to stand and grabbed a pole. It was only a few stops anyway. The car jerked slightly as it began to move, but being a native New Yorker, I knew how to brace myself and stayed steady, even in my five-inch heels.

I pulled out my phone, but a tickle on the back of my neck gave me the sensation that someone was watching me. Lifting my head, I glanced around, trying not to be too obvious. But, when my eyes locked with the most beautiful man I’d ever seen sitting near the door, I forgot all about being subtle. His ocean blue eyes were surrounded by thick, dark lashes that matched the midnight color of his hair. His face was a sculptor’s masterpiece, with hard angles that were only broken up by lush lips. His muscular chest was defined through the dark green Henley he was wearing, the long sleeves rolled up to show his corded forearms. Jean-clad, long legs extended out in front of him and I estimated that he was likely over six feet and would tower over me, even in my high shoes.

But the thing that kept me entranced was the way his eyes were devouring me. If he continued to stare at me hungrily, I was going to need that extra pair of panties much sooner than I’d anticipated.

I shifted my stance, squeezing my legs together, hoping to alleviate the ache that was suddenly pulsing in my sex. He smiled wickedly as if he knew exactly how he was affecting me and I cursed my fair skin as I felt a blush creeping up my neck to color my cheeks. No, I told myself. Tonight was about being confident, brave. I smirked brazenly at him in return, making him chuckle. The sound went straight to my pussy, and I was definitely going to be using the spare thong when I reached my destination.

He continued to eye-fuck me silently for a few more stops, and I was so lost in him that I almost missed mine. I moved toward the sliding doors, which meant passing right by him. Before I stepped out onto the platform, I took a deep breath to gather courage and squared my shoulders assertively. Leaning down, I gave him a great view of my cleavage and wasn’t disappointed when his eyes dropped and turned to a dark shade of blue as they heated further.

“I’m headed to a wedding at The Peninsula New York. It starts at six, and I’ll be getting drunk by eight, and ready to be fucked by nine.” Then I marched out before he could see the fire blazing in my cheeks, likely turning me an unattractive shade of tomato red.