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…They stared at each other, the moving light of the television casting them into light and shadow. The air was suddenly charged, heavy. His heart thudded heavily in his chest, his ears rang and his dick was hard as granite. He lifted one hand and touched her bottom lip with two fingertips. Her head tilted, eyes wide and shining, and her lips parted in invitation, whether conscious or unconscious, that he couldn’t resist any more than he could resist breathing. His fingers stroked over the lush lower lip, pushing it down a little so her mouth opened more. He leaned closer. She didn’t move away. She held his gaze, the awareness and heat in her eyes matching his own. He briefly closed his eyes. This wasn’t planned, but he couldn’t say he didn’t want it to happen. He wanted it. So. Fucking. Much. Guilt stabbed through him. Was he repeating his past mistakes, hurting women he cared about? He’d come here for closure, atonement…not to screw things up worse. He was leaving tomorrow. Then she was in his arms, and they both gasped at the shock of pleasure as their bodies touched, and guilt lost out to the overwhelming sweetness of her in his arms. She was so small he could pull her right onto his lap, crushing her in his arms. She seemed even tinier than he remembered. He took her mouth like he’d been longing to since the moment he’d seen her. That full mouth made for kissing…and
other things at which she was very, very good. God, those kinds of memories just shot his temperature up even higher. He plied her with hot, urgent, demanding kisses, opening her mouth, seeking her velvety tongue, fire streaking through his veins…
ALSO BY KELLY JAMIESON How To Save A Life
WORTH WAITING FOR BY KELLY JAMIESON
AMBER Q UILL PRESS, LLC http://www.AmberQuill.com
WORTH WAITING FOR AN AMBER QUILL PRESS BOOK This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. Amber Quill Press, LLC http://www.AmberQuill.com All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review. Copyright © 2009 by Kelly Jamieson ISBN 978-1-60272-528-7 Cover Art © 2009 Trace Edward Zaber
Layout and Formatting provided by: Elemental Alchemy
PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
To Nara Malone–so much more than a critique partner—brain-stormer, sounding board, shoulder to cry on, tech support, marketing whiz and brilliant writer. Thank you for always pushing me to go deeper and further.
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CHAPTER 1 It had been ten years and she still thought she saw him everywhere she went. Damn it. Ainslie shook her head as she waited for the light to change. Then it turned green and she stepped off the curb toward the crowd of people on the other side of the street, who likewise started to cross. As she neared the man who’d attracted her attention, her eyes widened in disbelief. He met her gaze and slowed his pace, stopping in front of her. It was him. In the ten years since Griff had left, she’d played this scene so many times in her imagination, in her dreams. Sometimes, it played out as gracious, mature friends who hadn’t seen each 1
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other for a long time. She’d smile, kiss his cheek and inquire cordially about how his life had gone for the last ten years. Other scenes were more dramatic. She’d imagined herself walking up to him and slapping his handsome face as hard as she could. She’d also envisioned cutting him cold and walking right by him, not deigning to speak to him. But in her most secret dreams, he’d held out his arms, pulled her against him and kissed her crazy, like he had so many times. The reality was unlike any of those dramas. She was completely speechless, her mind shocked blank. Then her heart started thudding heavily in her chest and her throat closed up. The blare of a horn startled her out of her trance, and, apparently, Griff, too, as he grabbed hold of her arm and dragged her the rest of the way across the street, back the way he’d come. “Wh-what are you doing here?” she asked in a daze, now standing on the busy sidewalk. Six o’clock on a sunny summer Friday evening in Santa Adalia, California meant traffic was heavy and the sidewalk crowded with weekend visitors and residents going out for after-work drinks or heading home. Griff smiled at her and her breath caught in her throat. Jesus, no. His smile was still as dangerously sexy and charming as ever, although he did look different. Sort of. “I came to see you,” he said, astounding her. “Ten years later, you just remembered to come and see 2
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me?” she asked, an edge in her voice. “‘Oh, yeah, there was that girl I was going out with…maybe I should tell her I’m leaving.’ ” His smile faltered a bit. “Okay, I guess I should’ve expected that. Look, could we go somewhere and talk? Have a drink?” “You can’t be serious.” She now stared at him incredulously. He glanced around them, and she became aware of the looks they were attracting from other people. Oh, shit. There was her office assistant, Carmin, coming down the street, who was also the sister of the man she was seeing, Matthew. She did not need Carmin to see this. “Okay,” she said hastily, turning and stalking away from him. “Let’s go.” Effortlessly, he caught her and took her arm. She shook his hand off. “We’ll go to Delmar’s. One drink.” She strode down the sidewalk and around the corner to the closest bar she could think of at that moment. She prayed Carmin wasn’t going there, too. Thankfully, they were shown to a small table on the back patio, shaded by a vine-covered lattice fence and potted palms. Or maybe that wasn’t such a good thing. The palms surrounding their table gave an intimate, private feel. She sank into her chair, afraid her weak knees might give out now they were actually near seating. She clutched her purse on her lap, still feeling like she was in a dream and this wasn’t happening. If it were really happening, she’d be cool, 3
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poised and gracious…ha! She was anything but. Her hands were shaking and she still had no clue what to say to Griff. In her fantasies, when she saw Griff again, it was always at time when she was impeccably groomed, dressed to kill, and looking her absolute fabulous best. Not like this—hair scraped back, makeup all worn off at the end of a long day. Make that a long week. “Okay, tell me why you’re really here,” she said baldly. He looked at her, his eyes warm, mouth still curving slightly in that sexy half-smile. Fury welled in her, hot and fierce, and she glared at him. How dare he sit there so composed, smiling at her like this was nothing? Like he’d done nothing wrong. The big jerk. “I guess I should start with an apology,” he began, just as the waitress arrived to take their order. Ainslie looked up at the girl blankly, her mind spinning on overload. “Uh…white wine?” he asked. “Sauvignon blanc? ” She gave a jerky nod, and he ordered a Corona for himself. “You still like wine?” he asked, his smile deepening. “Do not sit there pretending you know me,” she said, biting off each word. “You do not know me. And do not sit there pretending we’re friends or that everything is fine.” He frowned. “I was starting to apologize,” he began, but she raised a hand, proud that it was reasonably steady. “Are you insane?” she snapped. “You can’t apologize ten years later for something. It’s way too late for that.” He reached out and grabbed her hand, and lowered it to the table. His thumb stroked over her ring finger, her left hand. 4
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She looked down at their joined hands and realized what he was observing. Horrified, she also realized how his touch was sending hot little pinpricks of electricity through her hand. She snatched her hand away from his and clutched her purse again. “You’re not married?” She stared at him coldly. “Why would you care?” His face grew serious again, almost sad. “Look, Ainslie, would you just listen to me? I know you’re mad but….you always listened to me.” She snorted. “You can’t be serious. You didn’t expect me to be angry at how you treated me?” She shook her head. “I know I was a bit of a pushover, but even I got angry sometimes.” He shook his head slowly. “Not very often,” he said. “You were so gentle and patient.” Now confusion muddled her thoughts and her anger deflated somewhat. “I…I don’t get this, Griff. Okay, go ahead; talk if you need to. Obviously you’re feeling some kind of guilt or need for closure or something.” She shrugged. “So, I’ll listen.” “You were always a good listener, too,” he said, smiling a bit again. “Unlike me.” Her eyes widened. Griff had apparently developed a bit of insight. “So, yeah, I needed to talk to you,” he said. He lifted one shoulder. “But I don’t know if I can explain why.” “I told you. Guilty conscience.” Then she gave a little laugh. “Oh yeah, but then you’d have to realize you’d done 5
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something wrong.” “I know I did, Ainslie,” he said quietly. “I’ve felt guilty for the last ten years.” She snorted again, just as the waitress arrived with their drinks. She set the glass of chilled wine in front of Ainslie, who resisted the urge to pick it up and down it. Jesus, she needed this drink. When the waitress had left, he continued. “I want to try to explain to you why I…did that. Why I left like that. Why I acted like that.” She sat back in her chair, glass of wine in her hand and studied him. Was he being sincere? It was hard to believe, but on the other hand, although Griff may have been a charming, lighthearted rascal, he’d always valued honesty and fairness. Despite the way he’d treated her. Pressure built inside her. “I was young, Ains.” Her heart gave a little bump at the shortened name he’d often called her. Nobody else had ever called her that. “Not just in years, but emotionally. You were the first serious girlfriend I ever had.” She nodded. She’d known that. “Is that why you cheated on me?” she asked, keeping her tone cool, again proud of her ability to control the tremor in her voice. His head snapped up and his eyes lasered onto hers. “I never cheated on you,” he said, his voice tight. “Never.” “Bullshit. You cheated a whole bunch of times. Everybody knew it. Everybody felt sorry for me. But I was so damn afraid of losing you, I let you get away with it.” 6
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He shook his head. “No,” he said again, his eyes still fastened on hers, those dark blue eyes that could be laughing and sparkling, or intense and piercing. She could feel them…as she always had…like a touch. “I know I did things that made you think I was cheating, but I never really did. I’d go see other girls I knew, but it was never anything other than friendship. Nothing ever happened.” She shook her head, even while wanting to believe him. No! He was sucking her in again with that irresistible charm, like he had all those other times. “Well…” She licked her lips and swallowed hard. “I don’t see what difference it makes. If you wanted me to think you were cheating, you may as well have. God, I don’t even understand that. Let’s just set aside that little issue. Go on.” He took a deep breath. “If you don’t believe me, there’s not much point in going on,” he said, his voice a low rasp. Oh, God. He was getting to her, drawing her in to his enchanting web yet again. A familiar helplessness wrapped around her. This was crazy. She’d changed a lot in ten years, and he could not do this to her all over again. No way. But again, when she looked into his eyes, she felt herself warming and yielding, against her will. She did believe him. “Okay,” she conceded. “You never cheated on me. But you still hurt me.” He lifted his beer to his mouth and took a long pull. She watched his throat work as he swallowed and it was sexy as hell. She studied him across the table. His face was the same, if a little more mature. His dark 7
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hair that had been a haphazard mop was now cut short, longer on top, casually brushed back from his face. The eyes were the same, maybe a little more intense. His body had filled out. He’d only been twenty-two years old the last time she saw him…tall, lean and sinewy. Now his shoulders were broader, the muscles in his arms more defined, his chest solid. He was still gorgeous, although Ainslie recalled that some of her friends had thought him a little geeky way back in college. No way was he a geek now. “You were my first real girlfriend,” he said. “Before I met you, nobody else would even look at me. I was a major dork.” She couldn’t help but smile. “You were never dorky.” Immediately she regretted saying that. He’d never had any lack of confidence, despite the self-deprecating comment. He grinned then. “Whatever. Anyway, I…did care about you.” “Funny way of showing it.” Again, his grin faded. “Sorry,” she muttered. “I’m trying to listen.” He nodded, his gaze going to the condensation on the beer bottle. He rubbed his thumb through it and the slow, sensuous gesture reminded her of his thumb on her left ring finger a few moments ago. A flashing vision of his hand on her breast, his thumb on her nipple, made her head grow dizzy, her pussy warm and wet. She gulped her wine, which did nothing to alleviate the dizziness, but was pleasantly cooling. “I did,” he insisted, not looking at her. “I know I had a strange way of showing it, but that was the problem. I didn’t 8
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want to admit to myself how I felt. It was way too much. Too much for a young kid with all kinds of ambitions and goals. Too much and way too soon.” Her body softened, sank into the chair, warm and molten. Despite her wildest fantasies, she’d never expected to hear these words from Griff. She had to be strong, though. He had that strange power over her, and it certainly seemed it still existed, despite the years that had passed. He was dangerous.
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CHAPTER 2 Griff sat there looking at Ainslie, his heart pounding so hard he could hear it in his ears. When he’d had this crazy idea, he had no idea seeing her was going to affect him this way. She was still so fucking gorgeous. He would rather see her long, smooth, honey-blonde hair loose than pulled back into the low ponytail she wore, but her oval face was perfect enough even without hair framing it. Her turquoise eyes had the same ocean-colored sparkle, her high cheekbones tinged with peach, her full mouth still begging to be kissed. He felt himself hardening as he looked at her mouth and he looked quickly back at his empty beer bottle. 10
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This wasn’t exactly going the way he’d planned. “Go on,” she prompted him, her voice even more gentle and warm than he remembered. Her softness, her thoughtfulness, her caring were all things that stuck in his mind when he thought of Ainslie. Not to mention her lush, little body and how hot she’d been for him. Christ, nobody had ever been so hot for him. Ever. He had to know if all those things had been real. Or—as he suspected—had his mind embellished the reality over the years? When he compared every other woman to Ainslie, was he being fair to them? Because nobody had ever come close to that kind of goddess-like memory. Now she was sitting across the table from him, the slight breeze teasing tendrils of golden hair around her face, looking at him with eyes that were big and blue enough to drown in. He was having so much difficulty breathing he could be drowning. He dragged in a breath and looked around for the waitress. This was going to be more than a one-drink encounter. He lifted a hand, and the girl smiled and was there in an instant. “I’ll have another,” he said, desperation roughening his voice. “Ainslie?” “Um…yes, please,” she said, sounding a bit desperate herself. He had to remember that, for her, this was not only unpleasant, but also out-of-the-blue shocking. At least he’d had the two hour drive up from LA to rehearse all the things he wanted to say. Not that it had helped a whole hell of a lot. “Anyway,” he started again, “I ran. I was a coward. I know 11
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it. I just couldn’t deal.” She looked at him, and the sadness in those eyes grabbed at something in his chest. “Yes. You were a coward. I was in love with you.” “You knew I was leaving,” he protested, still trying to find some tiny shred of defense for himself. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “I did know. You were graduating and you had a job. I just thought…maybe…we’d leave together.” He stared at her. He’d had no idea she thought that. Which was surprising because she’d held nothing back about the way she’d felt about him. And that had truly scared the shit out of him. “But you were just starting medical school,” he protested weakly. “You couldn’t leave.” She showed him her beautiful white teeth in a humorless smile. “Right. And LA is so far away there’s no way we could have continued seeing each other.” He winced at her sarcasm. He also knew she wasn’t telling him everything, but that was okay because he wasn’t telling her everything either. At least, not right now. “I’m sorry, Ainslie. I was an idiot.” “You were an asshole.” She sipped her wine. He flinched. “Yeah, okay, I’ll take that.” They looked at each other in silence for a few minutes. “That’s it?” Ainslie finally asked. “You came all the way here after all this time just to apologize to me?” “Well, not exactly,” he said. “I…” He stopped. It was 12
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harder than he’d thought it would be to tell her this. It wasn’t easy leaving yourself open and vulnerable. He had a sudden, new appreciation for how she must have felt while they were going out. She’d always been open about how she’d felt about him, and he now knew how she must have felt—naked, exposed. He sucked in air. “I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind,” he said in rush. He looked up at her again, registering the astonishment on her face. “You can’t possibly be telling me you still have feelings for me after all this time,” she said, the words sounding dragged out of her. “No. Well, I’m not sure. It’s weird. All I know is you’re always there…I’m always comparing other women to you. I had to see you, to find out if I’m crazy. Maybe I’m trying to for once and all get you out of my head.” Her eyes flickered at that comment, but she looked down at the table. Then she lifted her eyes. “I had no idea I was still in your head,” she said very quietly. “I have to say, Griff, this is all kind of mind-boggling. You walk out without even saying good-bye, I don’t see you for ten years and then you show up and tell me you can’t get me out of your head. Maybe you should’ve done this nine-and-a-half years ago and saved yourself years of …craziness. Whatever.” She waved a hand. “I know it sounds crazy, but I guess I wasn’t ready to deal with it until now.” She looked at him, and he heard the unspoken question, but he wasn’t willing to answer it. “So,” he said, forcing a smile, “tell me what’s happening 13
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in your life these days. I assume you’re a highly respected neurologist with a lucrative practice.” She gave a slight smile. “Not exactly,” she said. “Life throws curves at us sometimes.” He waited, then said, “Tell me about it.” She shrugged and played with the stem of her wine glass. “I didn’t get accepted into the neurology residency training program, so I had to change my plans.” What? How could that be? Ainslie was so smart and had been so focused on her goals. She’d always wanted to be a doctor, but had been motivated to specialize in neurology after her father died from ALS. She was so determined, he was amazed it hadn’t happened. “What happened?” he asked. “You had top marks. You took all the right courses. You still went to medical school, though, right?” She smiled. “Yes. And I did well. But you learn things about yourself from the setbacks life gives you. I know I was never very good at blowing my own horn.” She grimaced. “And I never fully appreciated how much of a problem that was. When I applied to the program, the interview didn’t go very well. I was too…modest. “They only accepted four students that year. The other four were all people I know and they all had the hugest egos.” She pursed her lips. “I’m not saying I should’ve gotten in over them, but I didn’t do a very good job of selling myself.” Modest. She’d always been modest. She was gorgeous and super-intelligent and had so many other things going for her. 14
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Her caring nature, her quiet thoughtfulness…yet she’d never appreciated those things about herself. He could see how it had happened. “I’m sorry,” he said. That had been her dream. “It must’ve been hard to give up on that.” She nodded. “But things happen for a reason, I always say. I changed my specialty to family and community medicine, and you know what? It was the best thing I ever did. I love it.” She gave a little laugh. “Not to brag, but I won the Gold Medal at graduation and I had job offers like crazy. I’m working in a great practice with three other doctors and I love it.” “Why do you love it?” She looked at him, head tipped to one side, eyebrows raised. “What?” he asked. She shook her head. “Are you really interested in this? Because this doesn’t seem like you to be sitting there listening and asking questions. Usually you’re the one doing all the talking.” “Ouch. I guess I’ve learned some things about myself, too,” he said, making a face. “Like, the importance of listening. So, tell me. What do you love about it?” She sighed. “I love the connection with my patients. I like developing relationships. I wouldn’t have gotten to do that if I’d specialized in other things.” “Yeah. That would be important to you.” Ainslie had needed to be needed. Speaking of needy… “How’s your 15
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mother?” “She remarried a few years ago. She’s doing great. He’s a nice guy and he looks after her.” “Wow, I guess that took a load off you.” “No kidding. But that was another adjustment. I got so used to being needed I kind of felt…bereft when she started getting involved with him. Nobody needed me anymore.” Oh, man, for Ainslie that would be the end of the world. Obviously, though, she’d survived. “Another learning experience,” she said, flashing a smile. “I like to help people, but my co-dependent tendencies have been ruthlessly overcome. Now, enough about me. You’ve got me curious about you. What’s going on in your life?” There were a million other questions he wanted to ask her. Like, was she married? Divorced? Dating? Children? He wanted to know more about the challenges she’d faced, who her friends were… “Um…well, I took that job in LA. I worked for Tagasha designing video games for a few years. Then I had these ideas for games they didn’t want to produce, so I went out on my own. I did pretty well. A few years later, surprise! Tagasha wanted to buy me out.” He shrugged. “So I sold the business to them, took my money and ran. I’ve invested in some other stuff and I’m kind of looking around for other opportunities right now.” “And? What about marriage? Kids?” He shook his head. “Nope. Haven’t felt ready for that.” Until now. He just needed to make sure he had the right woman. “You?” 16
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“No. I’ve only been out of school a couple of years. I’ve been busy building my practice. I have been seeing someone for a while now—he’s a doctor, too—and we’ve been talking about marriage.” Whoa. That hit him like a punch in the gut. He did not like that idea one bit, which was strangely disturbing to him. He fought down the nasty feeling and forced a smile. “That’s great.” He realized his beer was empty and he glanced at his watch. “Look,” he said, those million questions still buzzing in his brain, “why don’t we go get some dinner somewhere? I’d really like to talk to you more now that we’ve met up again.” She just looked back at him, not saying a word, and he found it difficult to know what she was thinking. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said after a few moments of silence. “Do you have plans? Of course you do,” he said. “Duh. It’s Friday night and you have a boyfriend.” “No.” She shook her head. “I don’t have any plans.” Then she scowled and muttered, “Shit.” He raised his brows at her. She shook her head again. “Okay, so I’ll buy you dinner. It’s no big deal.” His voice softened. “Come on, Ains. We’ll just talk. We have so much to catch up on.” She sat there across from him, so beautiful it made his heart pound, slowly shaking her head. He could tell she was almost ready to agree. “This is crazy, Griff.” 17
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“Yeah, but you know me.” He grinned. “I like crazy. Life is crazy. Come on. If your boyfriend is jealous, well…just tell him we’re old friends.” *
*
*
Yeah, right. Just friends. Ainslie almost laughed at the thought. She and Griff had been friends, sure. They’d had a lot of fun together, laughed and played together, but it was never platonic. Since the first time they’d met, there’d been a sparking sexual tension between them that was always there. Ten years later, it didn’t seem to have gone away, which was very disturbing, and the reason she did not want to agree to have dinner with him. On the other hand, maybe he had the right idea. Maybe, after all this time of dreaming about him, thinking she’d seen him when it was just another tall, dark-haired man, comparing every other guy to him, it was a good idea for them to meet like this. Maybe when they talked and reacquainted themselves, she would discover he wasn’t that great after all. This might, once and for all, resolve things in her mind and help her make the decision Matthew was waiting for…the decision to marry him. “Okay,” she said. “Can I at least go home and freshen up? I just came from work and I’m not dressed for going out for dinner.” “You look beautiful.” Heat crept up from her chest to her cheeks. He’d always been sweet with compliments. 18
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“But sure, I’ll follow you, and we can go from there.” No, she didn’t want him coming to her home. “Let’s just meet somewhere,” she suggested quickly. “Why? We don’t need two cars. Come on, Ains, it just makes sense.” “Oh, all right. I live on Fig Street. Up in the hills.” He tossed some bills on the table to cover their drinks and stood, extending a hand to help her out of her chair. She ignored his hand and stood, still clutching her purse. “You have a house?” She nodded. “I just moved in a few months ago. I’m still paying off student loans, probably will be for the rest of my life, but I finally got enough money to buy a place of my own. I really like it.” Matthew had almost convinced her to move in with him, but she hadn’t wanted to take that step just yet. She wanted independence, financial and emotional. She’d learned to be strong on her own, not depending on someone else for her happiness and not needing someone else to depend on her either. She intended to savor the feeling of strength and accomplishment that gave her. “My car is in the lot behind the theatre,” she told him. “Our clinic doesn’t have much parking and we keep that for our patients.” “I’ll walk you there.” The sun was lower now but still warm. The sidewalk was less crowded and traffic on the street had thinned. As they walked side by side, she had the weirdest urge to take his arm, 19
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as if it was a natural thing to link hers with his and lean into him, as if her body still recognized him and was drawn to him. She had to fight the feeling. They stopped at her beat-up little Mazda. “Three-fifteen Fig Street,” she told him reluctantly, unlocking her door. He nodded, and she left him there as she drove off. Would he even show up? Maybe this was just some plot to humiliate her all over again. Don’t think like that, she told herself. That was the old Ainslie thinking, the one who never truly believed Griff could care about her, be faithful to her. He had given her reasons to doubt him, no doubt about it, but she hadn’t been the most self-confident person when they met. She hadn’t needed reasons to doubt her ability to attract a guy like him and keep him; she could invent those all on her own. But no longer. If he didn’t show up, that was fine with her. She’d order the pizza she’d planned to, take that long bath with a glass of wine, then dive into the book she’d bought last weekend and never got a chance to read. She’d just rolled to a stop in her driveway when he pulled in behind her. Okay, no worries about him not showing up. She waited for him at the front door after unlocking it. “Nice place,” he said. “I like it.” “Thanks.” The small California Craftsman-style bungalow had lots of character, which meant it needed lots of work. She’d done some rehab on the outside with paint and flowers, but inside was a work in progress. 20
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“I’ll just go change,” she said. “Have a seat. I won’t be long.” She waved a hand toward the small living room to the right of the foyer and went into her bedroom, closing the door behind her. She leaned back against it and closed her eyes. What the hell was this? Could this really be happening?
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CHAPTER 3 Sucking a big, long breath, she straightened up and hurried into the small bathroom off her bedroom, fighting the fierce fluttering in her tummy. She washed her face, then took her hair out of the ponytail. She wished she could shower and wash her hair, but there was no time for that. So, she brushed her hair out long and straight, then touched up her make-up, wanting to look her best, although her shaking hands made it difficult. She changed from her work clothes—plain, straight black skirt, grey silk blouse and low-heeled pumps—into a pair of low-riding jeans and a silky camisole top, sliding her feet into high sandals. She was small and needed all the height she 22
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could get around Griff. She studied herself in the mirror. Well, it wasn’t the glamorous, aloof image she wanted to present, but it was the best she was going to get right now. What difference did it make anyway? She was what she was. She pressed a hand to her stomach. She could do this. A casual, let’s-catch-up dinner with an old friend. When she went back to the living room, Griff stood gazing out the window. Built on the side of a hill, her house had a view of the city and the ocean in the distance. “This is gorgeous, Ains,” he said, turning at her approach. Then he checked her out, and she melted. A little bit. Damn. The frank appreciation in his eyes was gratifying, even though she didn’t want it to be. She did not want to care about what he thought of her. But it did matter, apparently, because his smile and the gleam in his dark blue eyes made her feel good. “You look gorgeous, too,” he said. “Still. It’s kind of amazing how little you’ve changed. Your hair is longer.” He reached out and touched her hair, tugging one long strand. Her body quivered with awareness and she nodded mutely. She went warm and soft inside and her nipples tingled at the admiration in his eyes. “Let’s go,” she said, voice tight. He followed her out and she walked toward his car parked in her driveway. Whoa. A Lamborghini Gallardo. He must have done better than “okay” with his business ventures. “Nice car.” She slanted him a look. He unlocked the door with a click of the remote control and opened it for her. 23
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“Thanks. It’s kind of fun.” “You and your toys.” She slid in, and he walked around to the driver’s seat. It wasn’t a big car and his presence filled the space, making her feel squeezed. It was hard to breath. He laughed. “Yeah, I still like toys.” “They’ve gotten a bit more expensive.” “Yeah, I guess they have.” And that was all he said about that. She was dying to know more, but kept quiet. He drove down to Ocean Boulevard, cruising past the beach with its paved walkway and smooth sand stretching down to the Pacific. The low sun glinted off the waves and a few colorful sailboats dotted the blue swells. “Will we get into Margarita’s?” he asked. “It’s probably busy on a Friday night and they don’t take reservations.” “Who knows? We may have to wait a bit, but that’s okay.” They lucked out and were shown to a table right away. “I’m glad this place is still here,” he said, once they sat. “I used to like coming here.” They’d been pretty strapped for cash in those days, so dinner out in a nice restaurant wasn’t something they’d done very often, but this had been a favorite place. Nice, but not too pricy. She eyed his casual but expensive clothes, thought about the Lamborghini and wondered if this wasn’t a little beneath him now. They ordered drinks to start with. Griff set his menu aside, apparently in no hurry to order. She focused on breathing, feeling self-conscious and aware of her body. He kept looking 24
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at her with hot eyes, and she wished she’d chosen clothing that didn’t show as much of her bare shoulders and arms. She rubbed her arms. It wasn’t just feeling self-conscious, though. His gaze made her shiver with something else. Her tummy quivered with nerves and excitement. Even earlier, at Delmar’s, the way he’d looked at her had melted her. He’d been so attentive and interested. There was something so…flattering, so captivating about that look. “I like your house,” he said again. “It looks like you’ve done some work to it.” She nodded. “It was a bit of a fixer-upper. Real estate is pretty pricy here, but it was a good deal. Though, yeah, it needed work. Still does. I’ve fixed up the outside and I had all the hardwood floors redone. I painted some rooms, but others need major renovations.” “It’s hard to be patient when you want it all done at once.” “That’s true.” She paused. “Where do you live?” “Near Malibu. I bought a house on the beach after I sold my business.” “Ah. A house on the beach. That must be nice.” “I love it. I love the ocean and I can grab my surfboard any time and hit the waves.” “You must have done very well when you sold your business,” she said. “A Lamborghini, a beach house…wow.” He grinned. “Can’t complain.” She pressed her lips together, trying not to smile back at him, but not entirely successful. She couldn’t manipulate him into bragging, apparently. Strangely, that made her happy. She 25
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couldn’t stand people who tried to impress with money and objects. Ten years fell away, and they talked and laughed, sharing memories and new stories. They talked about lots of things and it was easy. Was that surprising—or not really? When their dinners arrived, Ainslie picked at her meal, not hungry, eating bits of this and that while they talked. When she glanced at her watch, her mouth fell open. “Oh, my God, it’s after ten o’clock!” “So? In a rush to get home? Let’s go for a walk on the pier.” “I should go.” She had to say that. She reminded herself she should be mad at him—if not, she was letting him off the hook for what he’d done way too easily. But what did it matter? They’d probably never see each other again and it would be nice to end things on an upbeat note, rather than hating him like she had for the past ten years. What had happened, happened and there was no going back. She’d survived, and, in fact, she’d come through it all stronger and better. In fact, if everything happened for a reason, like she believed, it was better that things had turned out the way they had. If she and Griff had stayed together, whether they’d moved to LA, or he’d visited, she would have stayed needy and clingy, and they would have made each other miserable. She never would have had the strength to deal with the setback she’d experienced at medical school or the resolve to make the best of that situation. And when her mother no longer relied 26
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on her for everything, she would have transferred that codependence to Griff and that would have smothered him. It was a startling realization. They strolled in silence through the warm darkness down to the beach. There were still lots of people around enjoying the patios and little seaside shops that spilled their light into the dark evening through open doors. Again, the urge to take his hand was almost irresistible. She thrust her hands in the pockets of her jeans as they walked. “I miss this place,” Griff said. “It has such a different vibe. So casual and laid back. LA is not like this.” “No, I guess not,” she agreed. “What is it like? Is your life stressful?” “It was when I was in business for myself. Working for Tagasha was fun. They try to encourage creativity by making work fun. When I started my own business, I thought it would be even better, but it turned out to be incredibly stressful. But it was such a rush, too…challenging.” “You always needed a challenge.” She smiled. “Yeah. Selling the business was another kind of stress. It was like selling my baby…it was mine, something I’d worked on so hard, for so long…I didn’t want someone else controlling it.” “So why did you do it?” He thought about it. “Well, I guess it was just because I needed a new challenge. When I thought about the things I wanted to do, it didn’t fit with the business, so it was time to move on.” 27
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She couldn’t help but admire the success he’d had. It wasn’t surprising. He was scary-smart when it came to technology and had the creativity to come up with original ideas. She’d laughed at his love of electronic games, how he had to have every new game and every new game player, whether hand-held or a console hooked up to the big television that he’d saved for months to buy. What money he hadn’t spent on her, he’d spent on toys. “Sounds like you’ve done well.” He stopped walking and turned to face her. The moonlight cast his dark face in a glow and his eyes were serious as he looked at her. “Yeah,” he agreed. “In some ways I’ve done well. I’ve accomplished my goals and I’ve been lucky enough to have goals. But…” “But…what?” she whispered. His gaze brushed her like a caress. Their bodies so close they were almost touching, it took all her willpower to keep herself from swaying toward him, to feel that big, hard body next to hers once more. Her breasts ached to feel him press against them. He reached out and wound a piece of her hair around a finger. “I have friends,” he told her a bit obscurely. “That’s good,” she said, a little mystified. “That’s important.” He nodded, still looking at the strand of hair, rubbing it. His warmth was drawing her like a magnet. This was so not good. She tried to take a step back, but his fingers tightened in her hair, holding her there. She watched him. 28
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“Family’s important, too,” he said. “I kind of want a family.” What was he saying? What did that have to do with her? “Tell me about your mother,” he said. “Oh. Well, soon after you left, she met this guy…his name is George Foster. He’s a very nice man. He’s a lawyer. Kind of old-fashioned and chauvinistic, but then, so is my mom. You know how she fell apart after my dad died.” “You were what…sixteen when he died?” “Seventeen. She was totally reliant on him for everything and then she transferred that all to me. I was just a kid and I was a mess myself.” She shook her head. “But helping her helped me get through it all. And you know the rest.” He knew the story of how, in her own need to be needed, she’d enabled her mother in her unhealthy dependence. “Anyway, it still amazes me that she found someone and fell in love again. He looks after her and he loves it.” “Was it hard for you to let him take over?” She laughed. “You know me too well. It was devastating. All of a sudden, nobody needed me any more.” “That can’t be true.” “Well, I did come to realize that. I had friends who were great. Abby was so supportive, and all those psychology classes came in handy. She really helped me see how much healthier it was for my mom and me to be apart. Now, I don’t know how healthy it is for her to be so dependent on George, but that’s not my problem.” “Wow. That’s quite a statement.” 29
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“I know. Believe me, I know.” She gave a little laugh. “Anyway, it was very eye-opening for me and also showed me what kind of relationship I don’t want with a man.” This time he did slide his big, warm hand down her bare arm, sending all kind of quivering tingles through her, and her hand slid into his in a natural fit that felt so familiar, so right. He walked on and she forced her legs to move, giving her hand a little tug to remove it from his. But he wouldn’t let go, pulling her closer. They walked out onto the pier and stood at the wooden railing looking out at the dark ocean rolling and shifting far beneath them. Griff kept hold of her hand and it was all she could do keep herself from throwing herself into his arms. He pulled her against him, releasing her only to slide his arm around her waist, holding her close. Oh, God. The heat of his body enveloped her, his muscles firm and strong against her. She barely topped his shoulder, even in her heels, and his size both comforted and intimidated. She couldn’t stop it, but images flashed through her mind—Griff naked, holding her, doing things to her that made all her inner muscles clench with excitement and throb with heat. She almost moaned aloud. “There’s something about the ocean,” he said. “I could never move far away from it.” “I know,” she said. “I love it, too. But it’s scary.” He looked down at her, smiling. “Scary?” “It’s so huge and powerful.” She shrugged, feeling silly. 30
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“That’s true. You have to respect it.” He didn’t laugh at her or make fun of her, and she exhaled with relief. Eventually, they turned and headed back to the beach. “I should go home,” she said again. This time he nodded. “Um….can I ask a huge favor?” She tensed a bit, not sure what was coming. “You can ask.” “I don’t have a place to stay and I don’t feel like driving back to LA at this time of night.” She was silent. Was he asking to stay at her place? That was so not a good idea. “You could find a hotel.” There was no way he’d find a room there on a summer Friday night this late. “You know I’d never find a hotel room.” “I really don’t think it’s a good idea…” “I’ll take off first thing in the morning. I don’t want to get in your way. I know you have a boyfriend and I…I’m just here to…whatever. Apologize. Say goodbye. So we can be friends.”
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CHAPTER 4 No. We can never be friends. The words screamed in her head, but she kept her lips firmly closed. She gave a short nod and turned to leave. She knew she could be making a big mistake, but it was so like Griff to be able to convince her to do just about anything. The wind whipped her long hair into a tangled mess by the time they arrived back at her place. He parked in the driveway again, behind her beat-up car. As they got out, he grabbed a duffel back from the back of the car. She was painfully aware of him as they went into the dark, quiet house. “I have a spare room, but there’s no bed in it,” she told him. “So you’ll have to crash on the couch.” 32
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“Not a problem,” he assured her. “I can sleep anywhere. I really appreciate it.” She grimaced as she found sheets, blankets and a pillow for him. He turned on the lamp on the table beside her sofa and it cast a soft glow in the room. “I’m going to bed now,” she said, the words sounding way too suggestive. “The bathroom is the second door on the right. Help yourself to anything you need.” He nodded, watching her with such steadfast focus her skin tingled. “Good night.” Once again, she went into her bedroom, shut the door behind her and leaned back against it. Her lungs refused to expand and her legs went marshmallow. If only there was a lock. Griff would never try anything like that. They’d had an intensely physical relationship but he had never, ever forced her to do something she hadn’t wanted to. He’d had other, more subtle ways of getting his way. In a daze, she undressed and found her pajamas, cotton boxer shorts that sat low on her hips and a ribbed tank top. The room was warm, so she opened the window to let in the evening breeze. For long moments, she stared out the window at the lights of the city and the black that was the ocean. The fronds of a palm tree outside her window tossed and rustled in the breeze and the scent of the jasmine she’d planted outside below her window wafted in. She took a deep breath. There was no way in hell she would ever sleep tonight. 33
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She’d be replaying every moment of the evening in her head, every word they’d said since they met in the middle of the street, every look, every touch. It would play over and over again in her head like a movie being rewound, like she always did with events that affected her so deeply. She’d fret over things she’d said, wish she’d said them differently, sigh over things she hadn’t said. She turned away from the window and climbed into bed, laying flat on her back. She gazed up at the ceiling in the dark, eyes wide open and not even close to feeling sleepy. Wow. She’d always known that one day, somehow, somewhere they would see each other again. Even though she’d imagined that he might, the fact he had sought her out was truly amazing. She fought against it, but it made her happy he’d wanted to see her. The worst thing about it was he was just as gorgeous and charming and seductive as he’d always been. He could get her to do anything, forgive anything. Here she was all soft, warm and melting, when she should be pissed off and not letting him even set foot in her house, let alone sleep there. Her hands slid over her aching breasts, down her stomach. The throbbing emptiness between her legs was driving her crazy with need. She slid a hand lower, into her shorts and into the soft folds. God, she was wet. So wet. Only Griff could make her wet just from looking at him. Her fingers stroked herself, found her swollen clit and rubbed. A pleasant buzz hummed through her body and she closed her eyes. 34
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Matthew. Her hand stilled, the buzz killed. What was she going to do? She cared about Matthew, but her reaction to Griff was sudden, intense, overwhelming…confusing. She pulled her hand out of her shorts and rolled over onto her stomach with a groan. If only she could sleep. Of course, the harder she tried to sleep the farther away from it she was. After tossing and turning for a few hours, trying unsuccessfully not to replay the evening, she decided maybe some chamomile tea would help. When she cracked open her bedroom door the light of the television flickered from the living room. She tiptoed down the hall and peeked in, and sure enough, Griff sat there, the fleece blanket wrapped around his lower body, the remote in his hand as he channel surfed. He looked up and saw her and his eyes widened a bit in surprise. “Can’t sleep either?” he asked softly. “No.” She sighed. “I’m going to make some herbal tea. Want some?” Even in the dim light from the television, she could see one brow lift. “Herbal tea?” Then he shrugged. “Sure, why not.” He was still looking at her, and she wished she’d put something over her tank and shorts. She turned into the kitchen, not wanting to put the lights on, and filled the kettle. “Want to watch TV with me?” he invited. Bad idea. Really bad. But somehow she was sitting on the couch, at the far end from him. She glanced at him, then away. His chest was bare and wow, he had filled out spectacularly. 35
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He must have started working out. His pecs were well-defined and smooth, shoulders strong, biceps rounded. Her eyes lowered to the flat abs above the edge of the blanket he’d wrapped around him. What did he have on under that blanket? Heat built in her, yet her nipples were hard. She crossed her arms over her chest and tucked her bare feet under her. “Are you cold?” he asked. “I can share the blanket.” “No!” She almost choked. “That’s okay, I’m fine.” “I was watching a movie, but it just ended. I don’t know if there’s anything else good on.” He flicked rapidly through a few channels, and she couldn’t help but grin. “What?” He glanced sideways at her. “All three of those shows looked interesting. How can you tell if something’s good or not when you flick through it so fast?” She was teasing him, and he grinned, too. “Hmm. It’s just a man thing I guess. I just know instantly if it’s something I want to watch.” “If you see a car chase, a gun or an explosion, then it’s worth watching?” He laughed. “You got it.” He slowed down and stopped at an old episode of CSI. “You like this show?” “Sure. I think I’ve seen it about eight times, but that’s okay.” The kettle whistled, so she unfolded her legs and padded into the kitchen to fill two mugs with hot water and a bag of tea each. She dropped spoons into them and carried them into the living room, setting them on the old trunk that served as 36
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her coffee table. They watched in silence while the tea steeped, Ainslie not aware of the show at all, only of Griff sitting there half-naked so close to her. She could sense his awareness of her, too. It was like an energy force simmering between them, almost palpable. His gaze stroked over her as he glanced sideways at her. “It should be ready,” she said, reaching for her mug. He did the same, and they sat there sipping the steaming liquid. “Hmm,” he said. “Interesting.” “You’ve never had chamomile tea?” “No, can’t say I have. If I have trouble sleeping, I usually just drink heavily.” “That’s not healthy,” she said primly. “Pardon me, Dr. Patterson. Hey, that’s cool. I like calling you that.” She laughed. “You can’t tell me you’ve never over-indulged. Don’t forget, I knew you in your wild college days.” “I’m not saying I’ve never done it,” she said with another laugh. “I’m just saying it’s not good sleep hygiene.” “What? Sleep hygiene. Holy shit. You’ve gotten way too smart for me, baby.” “Oh, please, Mr. Genius IQ. At least you’ve learned to use your brain for good and not for evil. Although, I really shouldn’t say that, given I’ve never actually seen any of these games you’ve designed. Please tell me that one about car theft is not yours.” 37
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Now he laughed. “Nope. Can’t take the credit for that. Or the money, unfortunately. I will confess to some minor violence in my games, but never killing, stealing or raping.” She gaped. “Rape? There are games where there’s rape? That’s…disgusting.” “Oh, yeah, but I have my standards. Jesus, it’s kids playing these things. Well, and some big kids like me.” “I’m glad to hear that,” she murmured, experiencing a strange sensation, almost as if she were falling. She put her feet on the floor to make sure she was firmly on the ground. He put his mug on the table and turned to her, one elbow on the back of the couch propping up his head. His gaze was intent, hot and he was too close to her. “So you still don’t like video games?” “They’re just not my thing. I’d still rather read a book any day.” “What else do you do? In your spare time.” “I work pretty long hours. My house has become my new hobby. I like to go antiquing, and there are lots of concerts and art shows here.” “Who do you go with?” “With Abby,” she said. “She still lives here. And her husband. She’s married now. I don’t think you know him…Jeff Nash?” He shook his head. “And Matthew, of course.” “Matthew is the boyfriend?” he asked, his voice roughening a bit. She nodded and met his eyes. “Yes.” 38
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“How long have you two been together?” “About two years. I met him at the hospital when I was interning.” “So he’s a doctor too, hmm?” He looked thoughtful. “Is he a nice guy?” She smiled. “Of course he’s a nice guy. Would I go out with someone who’s not nice? Oh, wait. Yes, I would.” He scowled. “Hey. I thought we were over that. And I am a nice guy.” “No,” she said slowly. “I would not describe you as nice.” His scowl deepened. “Why not?” “Griff, you were charming, bouncing-off-the-wall energetic, crazy, you did things on purpose to hurt me, and then, when you wanted to break up, you didn’t even tell me. You just disappeared.” She shook her head, her eyes still on his over the edge of her mug. “That is not what I’d call nice.” “I didn’t do things to hurt you,” he protested. “You misunderstood that.” “What are you talking about?” Her brows drew together. “You said you went and saw other girls to make me think you were cheating on me. What would you call that?” He shook his head violently, shifting closer. “No, no. I didn’t do it to hurt you. I did it to make you mad at me, to make you hate me. I was trying to save you from me.” She was stunned silent momentarily. Then she snorted. “That is such bullshit.” He shrugged. “It’s the truth.” “Well, thanks so much for your kind consideration of my 39
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feelings,” she said, “but it kind of didn’t work that way. You couldn’t possibly have been that stupid.” He paused. “Uh…yeah, I could. Look, I wasn’t the best at all that emotional stuff. I felt a little panicked, sometimes, like I was… Never mind.” “Say it.” He waited a few heartbeats, then said in a low voice, “Suffocated. I felt suffocated.” The hurt was sharp and swift. He’d felt suffocated? Thoughts and feelings started swirling around in her mind, leaving her speechless. She drew back from him, staring at him.
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CHAPTER 5 He couldn’t stand the look in her eyes. He knew he’d hurt her and he felt like crap. He shifted closer still and removed the mug from her hands, sliding it carelessly onto the table. “I’m sorry, Ains. That wasn’t right either.” “Oh, yeah, it was. You’re nothing if not honest, Griff.” Her voice was stiff and cool. “Oh, man, let me explain. I was trying to tell you this earlier. You cared so much it scared me. I was just trying, in my own stupid way, to change how you felt about me.” “Because you didn’t care about me the same way.” “No. Oh, no. That’s not it at all.” 41
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Her eyes questioned him. He put his hands on her shoulders, so smooth and small. God he’d wanted to touch her since she’d walked into the room, her satiny legs all bare, a strip of pale gold skin showing between the shorts and the top, the tank hugging her soft, braless tits, nipples hard and sticking out like little raspberries. He swallowed hard. “I cared too much.” “That’s bullshit.” She tried to pull back. “It’s not,” he insisted, tightening his grip on her shoulders. “I told you. It was too much, too soon. The feelings I had for you scared the shit out of me. I kept pushing you away, but I could never stay away. That’s why I was such an asshole. Then, I just had to get away. There was no fucking way I could break up with you. No way.” He watched her face as he spilled his guts, watched it soften and her eyes start to glisten as if she was going to cry. “No,” he begged. “Don’t cry. See, that’s what I mean. You know what that does to me.” She blinked rapidly several times. “I’m not crying.” “Okay. Good.” They stared at each other, the moving light of the television casting them into light and shadow. The air was suddenly charged, heavy. His heart thudded heavily in his chest, his ears rang and his dick was hard as granite. He lifted one hand and touched her bottom lip with two fingertips. Her head tilted, eyes wide and shining, and her lips parted in invitation, whether conscious or unconscious, that he couldn’t resist any more than he could resist breathing. His 42
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fingers stroked over the lush lower lip, pushing it down a little so her mouth opened more. He leaned closer. She didn’t move away. She held his gaze, the awareness and heat in her eyes matching his own. He briefly closed his eyes. This wasn’t planned, but he couldn’t say he didn’t want it to happen. He wanted it. So. Fucking. Much. Guilt stabbed through him. Was he repeating his past mistakes, hurting women he cared about? He’d come here for closure, atonement…not to screw things up worse. He was leaving tomorrow. Then she was in his arms, and they both gasped at the shock of pleasure as their bodies touched, and guilt lost out to the overwhelming sweetness of her in his arms. She was so small he could pull her right onto his lap, crushing her in his arms. She seemed even tinier than he remembered. He took her mouth like he’d been longing to since the moment he’d seen her. That full mouth made for kissing…and other things at which she was very, very good. God, those kinds of memories just shot his temperature up even higher. He plied her with hot, urgent, demanding kisses, opening her mouth, seeking her velvety tongue, fire streaking through his veins. Her tongue met his with eagerness and she tasted sweetly of chamomile tea and Ainslie. God, he loved the taste of her. He stroked deeply in her mouth, sucked on her tongue and felt her open more for him. Her hands clutched his upper arms and he shifted her over him, pushing her back into the cushions of the couch. Then her arms wound around his neck and her 43
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fingers were in his hair, tugging, driving him insane with lust. He slid one hand down her back to her bottom, filling his palm with her firm flesh, pulling her closer. The other hand went to her breast, and he squeezed her softness, almost clutching her a little desperately. He felt her indrawn breath against his mouth and gentled his touch. “Sorry, sorry,” he muttered. “You feel so good.” He rubbed his palm over her tight nipple, almost out of his mind with desire. Need stabbed into him, into his already tight testicles, flames licking over him. He moved to kiss her again, but she drew back, staring at him. No, don’t do it. Please don’t start thinking, he begged her in his mind, his brain fogged with an urgent craving for her. His cock pulsed and throbbed under the blanket now tangled around his hips and legs. “Griff,” she whispered, eyes full of hunger and confusion. “We shouldn’t be doing this.” “I know.” He drew a shaky breath and his body clenched with tight restraint. “I know we shouldn’t. But I can’t seem to stop. I can’t resist you.” Her eyes drifted shut and she swallowed. He bent his head and touched his mouth to her throat, to the pulse beating there like butterfly wings. He sucked softly at her skin, trying to slow down, to control himself so he could entice her, seduce her. He’d never forced any woman, but especially not Ainslie who was so gentle and special, and he wasn’t about to start now, despite the lust raging in him. 44
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He trailed his mouth over the silky skin of her throat, her neck, recalling that place just beneath her ear that would make her shiver. Yessss… Trembling in his arms, her head fell back, and he nibbled and tasted her there. He inhaled deeply, drawing in the sweet, warm scent of her. Then he pushed down the strap of her tank so he could nip and lick at her smooth shoulder, then lower to the top swell of her breast. She moaned, her hands moving over his shoulders, and he went back for her mouth, growling as he kissed her with long, deep, eating kisses. Shifting his weight, he pressed his erection against her softness, rubbing himself against her, leaving her no doubt about what he wanted. He let go of her to wrench the blanket out from around him and between them. His boxers strained to contain his hugely swollen cock and he glanced down at himself. Jesus. He took Ainslie’s hand and pressed it there, needing her touch, wanting her to know. “See what you do to me,” he whispered. Her eyes opened, met his, then lowered to where she touched him. Her fingers curled around him and stroked, and they both watched as he twitched in her hand. Electricity surged in his body, sizzled over every nerve ending. Her touch exploded his need and had him throbbing everywhere. “Christ,” he ground out. “Christ, Ainslie.” Her mouth curved into a little smile, and a wave of relief washed over him that she wasn’t freaking out. She was a willing participant in this and his cock jumped again. “I’d forgotten how big you are,” she whispered, still stroking him, sending him into oblivion from sensation 45
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overload. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers, panting for air, his body a tightened mass of anticipation. “I’m sorry,” he groaned. “What for?” “Being so unmemorable.” She laughed softly, shakily. “Oh, please. Don’t go fishing for compliments. You know how memorable you are.” He moved away from her, from her inflaming touch, pushed the blanket to the floor and knelt on it beside the couch. He slid his hands behind her knees and tugged so she was fully lying down, taking a moment to run his hands over her thighs and admire her sleek muscles and skin. He leaned down and pressed his mouth on one inner thigh, and she quivered in response. When he lifted his head, his gaze met hers and she watched him with quiet curiosity and wonder. Then, with an ease of movement that told him she had strong abs, she sat up and drew her tank top up and over her head. Thank you, God. Her breasts were amazing, full and round and perfect, tipped with brown little nipples. Saliva pooled in his mouth. She was brave, exposing herself to him. He liked that. He moved up her body and closed his mouth over a nipple, and it was as sweet and tight as he’d imagined. Or as he remembered. Reality and fantasy had mingled and merged in his mind over the years. He sucked hard and her hips lifted toward him. One hand held the breast he sucked; the other skimmed up her thigh to her hip and pushed her down into the cushions. Then taking his time, he slid his hand across to her 46
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pussy and pressed there. He heard her small gasp. He just held her like that, cupping his hand over the thin cotton fabric of her shorts, feeling her throb against his fingers, hot and damp, while he pulled at her nipple with his mouth and his teeth. “Oh, God!” she cried out, writhing beneath him, lifting herself into his hand in a silent plea. He knew what she wanted. He let her nipple pop out of his mouth, leaned across to taste the other one, then moved back and used both hands to draw the tiny shorts down over her hips, skimming them over satiny legs and tossing them aside. Then a hand on each thigh nudged them apart. He lifted himself up onto the couch between her legs, hands on her knees, pushing them wider, opening her to him. Jesus, she was beautiful there, too. Shades of light and darker pink, gleaming wetly, surprisingly bare of hair other than a small dark gold triangle of fluff just above her vulva. He studied her for a long moment, unable to look away, and then she squirmed a bit. “Griff,” she whispered her voice raw, “what are you… Don’t.” “Don’t what?” he murmured, still looking at her. “I can’t help it, Ains. You’re so beautiful. I love how you look here. I can’t believe I never did this before.” They’d been hot and hormonal at twenty and twenty-two years old when they’d started having sex. Ainslie had been a virgin, and while he had not, his experiences had been limited. They’d learned together and although Ainslie had been more 47
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than willing to try anything he suggested, he’d been more goal-oriented, to put it euphemistically, than interested in taking time to ensure her pleasure. It made him feel sad and regretful at that moment. “Remind me later to apologize again,” he said hoarsely. Right then, he needed to taste her. And he did. He scooted back on the couch and leaned in for a taste, a long, slow lick. “God!” she cried again, her head tossing on the cushions. Her hands came to his head and fisted in his hair. He kept going, licking up, down, into the crease where thigh joined hip, pressing kisses there, inhaling deeply her scent. Jesus. He knew that scent. It was insane how a particular sense could send memories flooding back into his head. Hot, sweaty memories. He ran his hands down her inner thighs, feeling them quiver beneath his touch, so he could use his fingers to open her more, so his tongue could thrust inside her. She was dripping with warm honey there, and he lapped at her hungrily. Sweet. So sweet. She vibrated beneath him so much he knew she was close, but he didn’t want it to end too soon. He wanted to give her as much as he could. He pushed a finger inside her and when she clenched around him, he almost came himself. She was so hot and wet, her tight cunt clutching around him like a fist. God, he couldn’t wait to be inside her. But first… He moved his mouth to her swollen clit, flicking his tongue over it, judging how sensitive she was. She bucked against him and he smiled, flicking his tongue again and again there, and then she 48
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tightened and with long, low moans, she shuddered through an intense climax he could feel on the fingers still inside her. She squeezed him, riding his fingers, his mouth, shuddering, hands pulling his hair so hard he feared she might rip it right out of his scalp, but he didn’t care. He just sucked on her clit, kept her going and going until she slackened. Little aftershocks twitched through her as he withdrew his fingers and, sitting up, put them in his mouth to suck her juices. “You taste so sweet,” he said. With glazed eyes, she watched him, eyes widening as he sucked her taste off himself. He watched her watching him and it was so hot. He felt desperate to have her now, his heart racing, arousal clawing at him, but also felt strangely pleased and proud he had made her come so hard. She let her trembling arms fall to her sides and her eyes closed as she breathed in and out, breasts rising and falling. He stroked his hands over her waist, her hips, her flat stomach, while he watched and waited for her to come down. She was incredible, glowing golden everywhere, her skin damp and gleaming. He watched her tongue come out and lick her lips, which then curved into a smile as her eyes flickered open. “Wow,” she said in a throaty voice. *
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She was as soft and limp as the blanket that now lay pooled on the floor, dazed and breathless. She looked at Griff, hovering over her, watching her with just a hint of uncertainty 49
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on his face. “We should go to the bedroom,” she whispered, although she was unsure if she could actually move. Relief flickered over his features and, with a swift move, he stood beside the couch and lifted her into his arms. “Griff!” she croaked in surprise as he swung her up in the air. “You’re such a tiny thing.” The corners of his mouth kicked up. She hung onto his neck as he carried her down the hall and into her dark bedroom. The breeze from the open window billowed the curtains, but the coolness felt good against her hot skin. He laid her gently on the bed, the linens all tossed and tangled from her earlier restless attempts at sleep. He pulled them aside and lay down beside her. The sweet scent of the jasmine outside her window seemed ten times stronger than it had before and the sheet beneath her skin seemed so soft. She could hear Griff’s labored breathing in the quiet room, the light from down the hall just enough to see his face in shadows. She reached a hand up and touched his cheek, his shadowy beard rough against her fingertips. She was so acutely aware of everything…like she’d suddenly come alive. She stroked his lean cheek, then trailed her fingers down over his chest, over the smooth, strong muscles, then lower to the ripple of his abs, feeling them quiver beneath her touch. He was still wearing his black boxer briefs and they still strained to contain him. Her eyes followed her fingers and she 50
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wanted to touch him there again, feel that hard, hot power. So she did, and he gasped at her touch, swelling into her hand. She slipped her hand inside his briefs, needing to feel the velvety skin over marble hardness that she remembered so well. Her memories had been good, but over the years they’d dimmed somewhat, and the reality of him almost made her gasp, too, with pleasure. She stroked him softly, then remembered that he liked to be held in a firmer grip. She grasped him and pulled, and he gave a long, low groan. He pushed his underwear down over lean hips and she went onto her knees beside him to help drag them off over long, hair-roughened legs, taking her time and enjoying the sight and feel of his lean muscles. His feet were bare, long and sinewy. Then she moved over him, straddling his legs, and reached for his penis, dark and long and thick. She clasped him in both hands, stroked him up and down, her palm gliding over the head, and his body jerked beneath her. She glanced at his face, eyes closed, jaw tight and a feeling of incredible feminine power swept over her. She wanted to give him pleasure so badly she ached with it. No, she wanted to blow his mind. She scooted up, leaned down and took the tip of him into her mouth. “Jesus God,” he burst out. “Ainslie…” “I know you like this,” she whispered. “I know exactly what you like.” She sucked on him, swirled her tongue around him, like he was an ice cream cone, and he was just as delicious. The weird 51
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thing was, although she’d done this with other men since him, she’d never really liked it much. But he was a craving she had to satisfy. He felt so hot, smooth and hard, and she took him deeper and deeper into her mouth and down her throat, trying to swallow him whole. “Holy shit.” His hands grabbed hold of the bed sheet. Her hair was getting in the way and she lifted her mouth from him and tried to toss it back, but the long, tangled strands were everywhere. Then his hands came up and smoothed her hair back, pulling it behind her head and holding it there in a loose ponytail. “Thank you,” she whispered. She went down again, pausing to inhale the warm, masculine scent of him. She lifted her gaze to his face. He watched her with eyes almost feverishly intense, and she closed her own eyes and went back to sliding her mouth up and down over him, cupping his balls, rolling them gently, pressing her finger into the place behind them that drove him nuts. His hips twitched beneath her and he pushed himself farther into her mouth. She willingly took more, then he tugged her ponytail harder, pulling her off him. She looked up at him. “I love that,” he said, with a moan. “But I want to come inside you. Please, Ainslie.” She wiped her mouth and slid her body up along his, rubbing her breasts against his chest. “Yes,” she whispered. “Have you got a condom?” “Oh, Christ.” He covered his eyes with his hand. “I do. It’s 52
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in my wallet, in my pants.” “In the living room,” she said with a smile. “I’ll wait.” He rolled out of bed and strode long-legged, lean-hipped out of the room. He was back almost instantly, rolling the condom onto his cock and then he loomed over her. He was big, bigger and broader than he had been, and, for a moment, she was overwhelmed by his size and the strength emanating from him as he held himself over her on arms that were taut and bulging, his shoulders bunched. She gazed up at him and put her hands to his chest, then shoulders as they looked at each other for a long moment. “I can’t believe how much I want you,” he said. “I know.” She sighed. “I know.” She reached between them to take hold of him, opening for him, and she directed the blunt head of his cock to her, rubbing him through her moisture. He thrust forward and then he was in her, filling her, so big and hot. The suddenness of it forced the air out of her lungs. He paused there, waiting, throbbing inside her, his entire body rigid with control. Then he thrust again, so deep inside her she could feel him against her womb. He stopped again, pressing himself into her, and the exquisite pleasure of him touching that sensitive place so deep inside her was almost painful. A hard, fiery wave of heat swept over her body. She cried out, soft cries of ecstasy, lifted her hips to him, her hands sliding down to his tight buttocks. She held him there, clenching around him while he pulsed inside her. They both knew the next movement would send them both over. 53
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“Ah, fuck.” He groaned and thrust into her even farther, fucking her hard, withdrawing and slamming into her again. That sent her up, over the edge, tumbling, free-falling, sensation rolling from the centre of her down her legs in waves of ecstasy almost too much to bear. She cried out and held onto him tightly, with her arms, her legs, every inner muscle she had, as she rode through the waves, his hard lunges into her prolonging the bliss until he shuddered against her, too, grinding into her. She lifted herself against him, taking everything he gave. They slept after that, in each other’s arms, and, when Ainslie awoke in the night, his erection pressed against her again. She sought his eyes in the darkness and found him awake, his face serious, and eyes full of hot desire. She shifted against him, sliding a leg over his hip, and they made love again, slowly, watching each other’s faces, kissing with long, slow, open-mouthed kisses, tongues sliding, hands gliding. They rocked together in a warm, delicious rhythm until they both burst with pleasure, shaking and breathless. A surge of emotion swelled inside her, so strong, so sweet it hurt, because she knew this was just a moment. A moment of aching tenderness, of fierce passion. A moment she would never have again. Because Griff had walked back into her life, but tomorrow he was walking out again, taking her heart with him.
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CHAPTER 6 Ainslie awoke before Griff in the morning, sunlight streaming through the open window, the morning air a little too cool now, birds chirping out in her small yard. She slid out of bed and padded over the carpet to close the window and draw the curtains. Then she turned and looked at Griff in her bed. He filled the bed, legs stretched out, one arm flung out sideways. His face was now shadowed with a day’s growth of beard, but in sleep he looked so sweetly handsome. One arm was flung up over his head, the swell of his biceps showing his strength. Her heart squeezed so hard it almost stopped her breath, and her legs went soft and weak. 55
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She put her hands over her face. What had she done? Good God. This was the man she’d loved with all her heart, who had broken her heart so painfully she’d thought she would never recover. And now she clearly knew—she hadn’t. Although the sight of him naked, warm and sprawled in her bed drew her to him like a magnet, she forced herself to grab her robe and leave the room. She used the bathroom down the hall, then drew the silky sash tight around her waist as she went to the kitchen. Coffee. She’d make coffee. With fingers almost numb and a mind spinning in circles, she managed to count scoops of coffee and fill the appliance with water. She pushed the on button, then stood there, hands pressed onto the counter, staring at the little red light without even seeing it while the coffee started to hiss and drip. She’d cheated on Matthew. Guilt and regret swept over her so sharply she closed her eyes. “Good morning.” Griff’s low voice came from the door of the kitchen. He’d pulled on a pair of jeans, but left the top button undone. They sat low on his hips and he was so beautiful it made her want to cry when she gazed at him. Her emotions were so close to the surface she was overreacting to everything. She could not let him know what he’d done to her. She straightened up and forced a smile. “’Morning,” she replied. “I’m…uh…making coffee.” He nodded, his eyes serious and thoughtful. Then he 56
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strolled into the kitchen, right up to her and put his hands on her hips. He leaned down to kiss her mouth and he tasted minty. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly. She blinked up at him. “I’m not sure.” She turned away from him to get two mugs from a shelf. “Actually, I’m feeling pretty messed up right now.” “Yeah,” he muttered, thrusting a hand through his thick, dark hair. “Me, too.” She turned and eyed him, not expecting that. He gave a short laugh. “Yeah, I do have emotions.” She just kept looking at him, then realized the coffee was done. She poured two cups and went to the fridge for the milk she knew he would want. She handed it to him wordlessly and he poured a generous amount in. She pushed the sugar bowl across the counter to him and he tipped three large spoons of sugar into the mug, then stirred it. She couldn’t help but smile. “You really need to learn to drink coffee properly,” she told him. “It’s a beverage, not a dessert.” A smile tugged the corners of his mouth too. “I drink it the way I like it.” He paused. “I guess we need to talk.” “I guess so.” They sat on stools at the high counter and sipped their coffee. Her insides churned and burned. They’d screwed up, and now she was going to hear how badly. “I just want you to know that what happened was— That was not my intention when I came up here,” he told her, looking down into his milky-pale coffee. “I swear I had no 57
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idea of sleeping with you at all.” He paused. “Well, that is, until I saw you. Then that was all I could think about.” Ainslie didn’t know what to say. She’d felt the same. One look at him and her panties were damp, her nipples at attention and her mind a running porn movie of her and him, naked and sweaty. That still didn’t make it right. “It’s clear there’s still something between us,” he said carefully. She sighed. Yes. But damned if she’d admit it out loud right now. “There’s something so special about you, Ainslie. You just do something to me and I lose my mind.” He ran a hand though his hair. “I didn’t think it would still be like that. But it is.” She took in his words, astonished that he felt the same way she did. Whatever kind of connection they had, whatever had drawn them together in the beginning, whatever made them do things to each other that they regretted, then brought them together again, had not weakened over the years. She knew she had changed, grown up, become a different woman than she’d been at twenty-one. Likely Griff had changed, too. In fact, she’d seen definite signs that he had, not the least of which were the multiple orgasms he’d given her last night with no thought of his own release. So, given that they’d both changed so much, she would have thought the attraction between them would have disappeared along with the people they used to be. But it appeared to be a force that went deeper than she’d 58
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even known. And holy shit, that was a terrifying thought. Griff looked up at her. “Have you forgiven me for what I did?” She looked at him and thought long and hard about that. The dark bitterness and anger had faded even from yesterday. The hurt now seemed so minor. How could her entire perspective have changed? But now she’d slept with him and it had been incredible, leaving her open to being hurt all over again. She still didn’t understand why he was here, but she was pretty damn sure it wasn’t to start a relationship again. Shit, shit, shit. Why had she been so stupid? “Yeah,” she finally said. “It’s myself I’m mad at now.” “Want to talk about that?” No way in hell was she going to admit to him what she was feeling right now. She was determined to play this cool. They’d had dinner, caught up on each other’s lives, had had great sex and now he’d go back to LA and they’d never see each other again. She would say, “Keep in touch, Griff. Call if you’re in town and we’ll do lunch.” Yeah, right. She tried to ignore the jagged blade sawing at her heart. Damn it, she’d do it if it killed her rather than let Griff know he’d torn her life apart all over again. She couldn’t blame him. She’d let him do it. “I’m feeling shitty because I just cheated on Matthew,” she said, willing to go that far. He nodded. “Yeah. I know. Me…” He stopped, tweaking her curiosity. “I’m not sure what to say about that. I could tell 59
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you ‘don’t feel bad; he’ll never know,’ but I know that won’t make you feel any better.” She shook her head. “I’m not a cheater.” “I know, Ains. It was just something kind of…out of control.” “Yeah.” They sat in silence for a while, sipping their coffee. He put a hand out and clasped one of hers resting on the counter. Their fingers curled around each other and still they were silent. Ainslie wanted to know when he was leaving. She wanted him gone so she could fall apart in private, figure out what she was going to do now with her life. Again. But she didn’t want to say it. *
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Griff wanted to stay. Now he’d found her again and experienced the connection they had, he didn’t think it was possible for him to leave. But he had to. Not only did he have issues to resolve, she had a boyfriend and she was clearly suffering major guilt from what she’d just done. She must care about the guy, although he had a hard time imagining there could be anything between her and Matthew that remotely compared to the electricity arcing between them. Maybe if he stayed she would realize it, too. He took a deep breath and took the plunge. “What are your plans today?” She looked at him. Her hair was all long and tangled, her eyes had make-up smudged beneath them, and the shadows in 60
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her eyes made his gut cramp. “Why?” He smiled. “That’s not an answer.” He lifted a shoulder. “I just thought…I’m here…and I really like Santa Adalia…and… Shit, Ainslie, I want to spend more time with you.” She stared at him, their fingers still joined. “I don’t know what you’re asking.” “Hell, neither do I.” He rubbed his face. “I don’t have any plans. Matthew and I were going to do something tonight, but probably just a movie or something.” “I could take you out for dinner again,” he said, suggesting the first thing that came to his mind. Her eyes flickered. “You don’t have to do that. I could cook dinner for us. I was thinking about going to the Farmers Market this afternoon and picking up some things.” She took a breath. “Are you going to stay until tomorrow?” He nodded slowly, watching her face. “If that’s okay.” She nodded, too. He had the feeling he’d had the first time he’d parachuted: jumping out of the plane, freefalling, praying with every fiber of his being the parachute would open. This time he wasn’t so sure he even had a parachute. He grinned and lifted her fingers to his mouth. He pressed a kiss to them and watched her eyes darken. “I’m starving,” he said. “Let me make you breakfast.” She gave him a slow, reluctant smile back. “You’re going to make me breakfast? In my kitchen?” 61
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“Sure.” He slid off the stool and refilled both their coffee mugs. “You must have something.” Together they looked through her fridge and pantry, and while he whipped up eggs for omelets, she made toast and poured juice. “I can’t believe you cook,” she told him, amusement tinting her voice. “Of course,” he said with mock affront. “How would I survive without cooking?” “Lots of guys do. And I don’t recall you having any culinary skills.” “Living in a dorm doesn’t give you a lot of opportunity,” he said. “And I wasn’t about to start cooking in your mom’s kitchen.” She grinned. “That’s the best kind of margarine,” he told her approvingly as she spread the toast. “You’re just full of surprises. What do you know about margarine?” “Hey, I know all about those trans fats and saturated fats. It’s important to be healthy.” She nodded, appearing bemused. “That’s true. I wish I had more patients like you. I’d have less business if people lived healthier lifestyles.” “Yeah. That’s the problem with our health care system,” he said enthusiastically, stirring the eggs in the pan. She lifted her brows at him. “Huh?” “Too many sick people.” 62
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She laughed. “You know, I think you just hit the nail on the head.” They talked as they ate breakfast, although he was distracted by Ainslie’s robe that kept falling open, revealing the curves of her breasts, a bit pink from his whiskers. When she crossed her legs, the short robe fell open there, too, and he couldn’t help but look, wondering if her thighs bore the marks of his attention as well. She tugged the robe closed, apparently aware of his eyes on her. “Don’t worry,” he said softly. “I’ve seen you naked.” She blushed then and it was pretty and sweet, but she left the robe alone and his mind went a little fuzzy as he continued to fork eggs mindlessly into his mouth while staring at her cleavage. God, what he wanted to do with that flesh. He shifted on his stool as his jeans tightened. “What time does the market open?” he asked. She glanced at the clock on the wall and smiled. “I think about eight o’clock.” It was almost noon and he laughed. “Okay, I guess we can go anytime.” “There’s no rush. Although the best stuff is probably already gone. I’d like to have a shower.” “Great idea,” he said, dumping his plate into the sink and tossing back the last of his orange juice. “Let’s go.” She shook her head, amusement tipping the corners of her pouty mouth. “Um…that’s not what I meant.” “What?” he murmured, moving closer. He pulled her 63
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against him, slipping the belt of the robe open. He drew the sides of the robe apart so her breasts were pressed to his bare chest, then slid his hands over her butt. He rubbed her through the silky fabric. “We can shower together. You can still do what you need to do…I’ll shampoo your hair, wash your back even.” “Griff…” “It saves water,” he cajoled, kissing her jaw. Her head tipped to allow him access, and he licked her neck. He felt her indrawn breath. “Come on.” “I’ve…I’ve never showered with a man,” she said, almost panting. Oh. Wow. He liked that. He wasn’t going to mention Mitchell or Matthew or whatever the hell his name was, but the guy must be lacking something in the sex department. Inexplicable happiness floated inside him. “It’ll be nice, I promise you,” he murmured, still kissing her neck. She was so warm and smelled so good. Then he closed the robe, tied the belt around her slim waist, turned her and walked her out of the kitchen and into the bathroom.
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CHAPTER 7 He would make it good for her. So good. It was exciting just thinking about it. Her bathroom was old-fashioned but sparkling clean, the tub separate from the tiled shower stall. She cranked on the shower and turned to him, peering at him from beneath her lashes, teeth sunk into her bottom lip. He slid the robe off her and hung it on the hook on the back of the door. Seeing her standing there in front of him, completely naked for him, was like a fantasy. Only better. “God, you’re beautiful,” he said. He looked her over, admiring everything about her, from her tangled hair to her perfect breasts, her smooth skin tanned a light toasty gold, the 65
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paler shape of her bikini over her breasts and a small triangle lower down. He ran his hands over her smooth waist and hips, down to silky legs until he noticed steam billowing from the shower. “In you get.” He pulled back the curtain and nudged her into the steam. He dropped his jeans and stepped in after her, yanking the curtain closed. “A small shower. But it’ll do.” “I haven’t redone the bathroom yet,” she said, pushing her wet hair back from her face. “Business first.” He reached for the shampoo. True to his word, he shampooed her hair, digging his fingers into the thick lather right to her scalp until she moaned with pleasure. Then he held her head while she leaned back against him and rinsed it out. He slicked conditioner through and rinsed that, too. “I need to wash my face,” she said, and grabbed a bottle of some kind of soapy stuff. She washed the last of her makeup off, then stood before him, bare-faced and beautiful, hair slicked back, water running down over her face and shoulders and breasts. God. “I said I’d wash your back.” His voice came out sounding choked. He grabbed a pink poufy sponge and poured body wash onto it. The fragrance of mango and citrus wafted up in the steamy enclosure as he rubbed the puff over her body, turning her to do her back. Then he abandoned the puff and used his hands, washing her everywhere, over the curve of her ass, down lower between her legs. She opened for him, leaning forward and putting her hands on the wall as he explored her with slick, soapy fingers. He 66
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slid through her folds, found her clit and stroked there. His other hand slid around her front, covered one breast, tugging slickly at her nipple. She pushed her forehead against the wall with a groan and thrust her butt out a little more. “God, Griff.” He moved his fingers in a more concentrated circle and it was only seconds until she was convulsing against him, moaning through her release as she leaned against the wall. He felt her softening as if her legs couldn’t support her and withdrew his fingers to hold her up. “How was that?” He shook water out of his eyes. He turned her in his arms and moved closer, pressing her against the wall while he kissed her. The water beat down warmly on his back and he took her mouth, opening her to him, tasting her. She clutched at his shoulders, holding herself up, almost boneless. Heat prickled over his skin, tightened his balls, throbbed in his cock. “Hold on tighter, honey,” he said roughly. “And put your legs around my waist.” “I…can’t.” “Yes, you can.” He slid his hands beneath her ass, one hand lifting a thigh, hauling her easily up against him. Then he took her there, against the wall, in the shower, pushing into her while mango- and citrus-scented steam rolled around them and water rained down on his back. Knees bent, he thrust into her hard, again and again, supporting her with his hands, kissing her. She held onto him for dear life, giving little cries of enjoyment. He adjusted the angle, drove into her, and she came again, shuddering in his 67
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arms. He recalled just in time that he wore no condom and pulled out. With one hand, he held her up, appreciating in the far back of his mind how small she was. Pleasure slammed through him as he finished himself off with his other hand, semen spurting hotly over his fist and onto Ainslie’s wet belly, and he groaned. Her head was against the wall, eyes closed. She held on to him, and he leaned forward and put his own forehead against the wall above her, holding her pinned there as they both gasped for air. His heart pounded. “Jesus,” she panted, “you weren’t kidding.” “Mmm?” “You said it would be nice. That was a bit of an understatement.” He grinned, eyes still closed, then kissed the top of her wet head. “Can you stand up if I let you down?” “I’m not sure.” He lowered her slowly and she let her legs slide down until her feet touched the floor. “Thank God for that non-slip mat.” He laughed. “You washed me, but I didn’t get to wash you,” she said, and proceeded to shampoo his hair and wash his entire body. Warm heat cascaded over his body at her sliding touch, and his penis jumped when she slicked over the head, so sensitive from his orgasm. The shower was starting to run cool when they finished, and they wrapped each other in towels and went into the bedroom. 68
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He eyed the unmade bed, the duvet tossed in a heap, and then looked at Ainslie. Despite the fact he’d come just moments ago, he found the idea of taking her back to bed incredibly tempting. “No way.” She grinned at him. He smiled back. She was so appealing standing there with a towel wrapped around her, all bare, clean and wet. “Later,” he agreed reluctantly. He found his clothes, some of which were still in the living room, while she dressed. “You’ll have to direct me to this Farmers Market,” he said, watching her with interest as she brushed her long hair. “It’s just outside town. Keep going on Ocean Boulevard past the Botanical Gardens.” He put the top down on the Lamborghini so they could enjoy the bright azure day, clear sky above them, soft wind on their faces as he drove. “Tell me about the games you design,” she asked him. He shrugged and smiled. “You don’t even have a player. No Xbox, PlayStation…no FunPack.” He glanced sideways at her. “I wouldn’t even know what those are,” she admitted. “You’ve never even tried one?” He was incredulous. She shook her head. “Sorry. I’m kind of against video games, actually. I think they have a bad influence on kids.” “What! I can’t believe you said that!” She turned in her seat to face him. “There’s a lot of literature supporting that viewpoint,” she told him seriously. His lips twitched. “I’ve read all the studies. The results are 69
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variable, inconsistent, and ambiguous. I don’t see how you can draw any real conclusions from what’s been done.” “But some of the studies do seem to make a link between violent video games and violent behavior.” “The studies don’t always distinguish aggressive behavior from aggressive play. There’s a difference. Confusing aggressive play with aggressive behavior can lead to faulty conclusions. Kids have always played aggressively with no intent to injure anyone.” “Uh…okay, yeah.” “And not only that, games are really not that different than the film industry: action movies, thrillers and horror movies. There’s always been violence in fiction, whether it’s literature or movies or what have you. Video games are no different.” “Okay, but in video games, the kids are participating in the action. They’re the ones that are actually…well, killing people, I guess.” “That’s true, but, like many movies, the games generally contain an element of exaggeration, which children recognize. Doing those things in the context of a game actually makes kids aware that their actions take place in a fictitious world. They totally know the same rules don’t apply outside of the game.” “You’re pretty convincing,” she said with a smile. “But I just finished reading a couple of those studies myself. One study showed that young men who are habitually aggressive may be especially vulnerable to repeated exposure to violent games. And another study suggests even a brief exposure to 70
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violent video games can temporarily increase aggressive behavior in all types of participants. “They studied college students and found those who reported playing more violent video games in junior and high school engaged in more aggressive behavior, and the amount of time spent playing video games was associated with lower grades in college.” Holy shit. Ainslie was arguing with him. And about something pretty important to him. He was impressed. “What? You’re grinning like a loon,” she said, looking amused herself as they arrived at the Farmers Market and got out of the vehicle. He took her hand and they walked toward the vendors. “You were pretty convincing about the video games. I may have to change my whole career because of you.” “Yeah, right.” He swung her hand in a carefree move while a feeling of something warm that might have been joy unfurled in his chest. They wandered around the various stalls. They picked out beautiful produce together, agreeing on peppers that were shiny and red, gorgeous heirloom tomatoes in various colors of red, orange and yellow, and bunches of fresh herbs. They chose some fresh pasta and a bag of field greens. “I’ll make a dressing for the salad that you’ll die for,” Griff promised her. “Have you got balsamic vinegar? Honey?” She nodded, smiling curiously at him, and they moved on. He bought a massive bunch of sunflowers, bright yellow, 71
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orange and mahogany, even though she told him not to. Then they found some locally made sausages. “These are so good,” she told him. “Turkey?” he asked. “Are they lean?” She looked at him. “Yes, Mr. Healthy, they are. They’re good for you and they taste good. Let’s get some and we’ll put them in the pasta sauce.” He agreed and they added those to their purchases. “Dr. Patterson!” a quavery voice called from behind them. They turned and saw a white-haired lady leaning on a cane standing there. She smiled warmly at Ainslie. “Mrs. Markham, how are you?” Ainslie’s response was just as affectionate. “I’m just great, thanks to you,” the older lady said. “That new medication you gave me last week is doing wonders for me. I haven’t been this pain-free in years.” “I knew we’d find the right one for you eventually,” Ainslie murmured. “When are you back in my office? Next week?” “Thursday,” the lady confirmed. She looked with interest at Griff. He smiled back. “Is this your young man?” “Um…” At a bit of a loss, Ainslie said, “This is Griffin Campbell. Mrs. Markham is one of my patients.” Griff reached out and shook a frail hand, still smiling. “You know, Dr. Patterson, I was talking to my sister the other day about you. She was so impressed about how much weight you’ve helped my grandson lose. I told her what a great doctor you are and you know, her doctor just moved 72
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away and she’s looking for a new doctor. I said I’d ask if you’d take her on as a patient.” Griff was curious about the grandson who’d lost weight and he waited for Ainslie, ever the softie, to agree to take on Mrs. Markham’s sister as a patient. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Markham, but you know I’m not taking any new patients,” Ainslie replied, gently but firmly. “I just can’t. However, Dr. Dillon, one of my partners, is taking patients. And I can tell you she’s a very good doctor, too. Very patient.” Disappointment dimmed Mrs. Markham’s smile. “I’ll tell her that. Thank you.” She glanced at Griff and her smile returned. She winked at Ainslie. “He’s…what do you young girls say…a hottie.” Pink flooded Ainslie’s cheeks and she shot Griff an apologetic glance. He grinned. “Thanks,” he told Mrs. Markham. She turned with a wave, moving a bit stiffly. He looked at Ainslie. “You turned her down.” She raised a brow. “Do you think I’m a big meanie?” “No. I think you’re assertive and caring. Even though you turned her down, you gave her another option.” She gave him a puzzled look and he shrugged. “You stood up for yourself.” “Well, yeah. I can’t just keep taking patients. I’ve got more than I can handle already.” “It’s good that you know it, too, though. You might have, at one time, tended to let people take advantage of you.” She started walking and he fell in beside her. 73
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“Are you mad?” he asked, her silence making his muscles tighten. She shook her head. “What’s wrong?” She stopped and faced him. “You’re right,” she said. “At one time I would have. At one time I did. I don’t any more. I don’t do anything unless I want to. Get it?” He was startled. “Uh…we’re not talking about patients any more, are we?” “No.” He looked at her. “Yeah. I get it. You’ve changed, Ainslie.” “I’m sorry.” “God, don’t apologize! I loved you the way you were…but now…” He choked. “It’s not a bad thing,” he amended. Shit. “You’re incredible,” he said simply, activity and noise all around them, people brushing past them, arms full of fruits and vegetables and flowers. Something expanded in his chest and he took a deep breath. “Let’s find some wine to go with dinner,” he said. “Excellent idea.” “So what was she saying about how you helped her grandson lose weight?” “Oh.” Ainslie sighed. “I see so many kids who are overweight these days. I know the world is so different now, but it’s very disturbing to me. I’ve had some success in a multi-disciplinary program I started for obese pre-teens.” “Wow, that’s awesome.” He paused. “Hence the issues 74
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with video games?” “In part. Video games are not the root of all evil, despite what I said earlier.” “Get out of here. You were arguing with me about something you didn’t really believe?” She laughed. “Only in part. I do believe they’re part of the problem, but the whole thing isn’t so simple.” “Then I have a confession to make.” “What?” Curiosity shone in her clear blue eyes. “I didn’t really believe all the stuff I was saying either.” “Huh?” Her brows drew together briefly. “So you’re saying you do realize it’s a problem for some kids to play video games too much?” “Yeah, I guess that’s what I’m saying.” He could say more, but he’d leave it for now. “We were having an argument just for fun,” he pointed out a little roguishly. Her lips twitched. “And it was kind of fun.” He smiled back at her. Man, he was sinking deep and fast. “It takes a lot of confidence to do that.” He could see in her eyes that she knew he was giving her another compliment. “You’re surprising me, Dr. Ainslie Patterson.” After purchasing some wine, over which they also argued amiably, they drove back to Ainslie’s place. “That was a nice afternoon,” she said, stretching her legs out in the car and leaning back into her seat. “You got some freckles.” She put a hand to her nose. “Oh, no! I can’t believe I forgot sunscreen!” 75
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“You won’t get skin cancer from one afternoon.” “I know, but I’m always preaching at my patients to use sunscreen and then I go and forget it myself.” She shook her head. “Oh, well.” Just then, her cell phone rang and she dug around in her purse to find it. “Matthew!” she said in a breathy voice. Shit. Griff’s gut cramped. “I’m…um just on my way back from the Farmers Market. Yeah.” She listened. “Tonight’s not going to work. An old friend is in town and we’re going to get together.” She closed her eyes and leaned her head back in her seat as she talked. “I’m sorry. No, no. Yeah, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” She flipped her phone shut and sat there holding it for a while, eyes still closed. He knew she was having a guilt attack. “I’m sorry, Ainslie.” She opened her eyes and filled her lungs. “Don’t apologize. Remember what I said earlier. I only do things because I choose to do them. I’ll deal with the consequences.” He nodded. His own cell phone was in his pocket and safely turned off. They carried all the food they’d bought into her kitchen. Ainslie found a vase and filled it with water for the flowers. “They’re beautiful,” she said as she arranged them. “Thank you.” He slid his arms around her from behind and hugged her. He pressed his face to her hair, now silky soft and smelling like sunshine from being outside all afternoon. “Thank you.” 76
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“For what?” She leaned back against him. “For letting me stay. For letting me get to know you. Again.” “Oh.” She was silent. “I could use a glass of wine.” “Coming right up.”
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CHAPTER 8 Despite the guilt that chewed away inside at her, Ainslie hadn’t felt this exuberant or delighted for a long, long time. When she was with Griff, everything was brighter, sharper. The sky had been such an intense, bright blue stretched out above them, the sights and sounds of the Farmers Market crisp and clean. The flowers he’d bought her were so fresh and fragrant, with such bright, sunny faces, it made her ache. And with one simple comment, he’d made her realize that she was in control. She’d thought Griff was the one manipulating things, coaxing her, influencing her to do things she knew she shouldn’t be doing. The truth was, she was the only one in control of herself. She chose to kiss Griff, to sleep 78
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with him last night, to let him stay today, because she wanted to. Sure, he had some mysterious way of making her want things, but she was the one who ultimately made the decision. It almost made her feel relieved. She’d been inclined to blame him for many things, but perhaps that had been wrong. In fact, if she looked back at their whole relationship, there were probably many things for which she could take responsibility. It was something she wanted to think about, to study from different angles and see where her thoughts took her. But not right now. Not when Griff was holding her against him, all big and hard and surprisingly admiring. It made her feel startlingly good about herself. If only she’d had the same self-confidence and attitude when she and Griff had first started dating, things might have been totally different. But then, her entire life would be different, and she wouldn’t change the way her life had gone for anything because it had made her who she was. She turned in his arms, rose up on her tiptoes and threw her arms around his neck, kissing him hard on the mouth. “Whoa,” he said when she lifted her mouth from his. “What was that for?” She smiled up at him. “I just felt like it.” “Okay. Fine by me.” He bent his head and their mouths met, shifting to adjust their fit, and their kisses were wet, deep and hot. He licked her mouth, then slid inside to stroke her tongue and the kiss went wilder, making her ache with need. 79
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She pressed her body against his, trying to get closer, but she couldn’t get close enough. Then she felt his hands lifting her by her ass and setting her on the counter, spreading her legs so he could stand between them. She shifted to the edge of the counter so she could bump the bulge behind his fly, pressing right where she needed it and she moaned helplessly. “God, you’re hot, Ainslie,” he whispered, sinking his teeth into her bottom lip, then licking her there. She moaned again and wrapped her legs around him, pulling him in tightly. “Right now,” she whispered, needy and desperate. “Right here.” She tugged the T-shirt he wore up and over his head, snagging his face. “Sorry.” “S’okay,” he muttered, likewise pulling her tank top off, revealing her turquoise bra. He pushed her skirt up to her waist and slipped a hand between them to feel her. “You’re wet, honey,” he murmured. “So wet. Is that for me?” “Oh, yeah.” She gave a husky laugh. “I’m wet for you, Griff.” He groaned and tugged the tiny strip of lace that was her panties aside and slid his fingers into her. She held onto his shoulders and leaned back, letting him finger her. “Touch me, Griff,” she begged. “Take my bra off. I want you to suck my nipples.” She heard his sharply indrawn breath at her request and he immediately complied. When her breasts were bare to him, he looked down at them and cupped them. His eyes dark, his face 80
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tight with arousal, he touched her nipples, then bent to take one between his lips, just the tip. Sensation shot from her nipple to her womb, almost making her slide off the counter. “Yes.” Her voice was no more than a hiss. She let go of him and leaned back on her elbows, knocking over the unopened bottle of wine. Griff reached out and caught it before it rolled to the floor, never lifting his head from her breast. “Good catch,” she panted, and proceeded to send a bag of tomatoes thudding to the floor. They both ignored that. He moved to the other nipple. “God, that feels good! Don’t stop. Ever.” He used his lips, tongue and teeth until she was in a frenzy of excitement. Pleasure torched her body, singed every nerve ending, sizzled through her veins. “I almost could come just from that.” She moaned. “Jesus,” he croaked, “Ainslie, you’re killing me.” “Fuck me. Now.” “No.” “Yes!” He laughed, low and soft. “So demanding! Uh-uh. I want to make you come first.” His hand dipped back into her panties, now soaked, stroking her there while his lips and teeth tugged at her nipples. “Oh. Okay then.” Her words trailed off as pleasure spiraled inside her, tighter, higher, his fingers sliding right where she needed them, until his fingers drew every sensation from her body to that tight, pinpoint of almost painful pleasure. 81
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Everything inside her clenched and drew in until she came in long, delicious waves of ecstasy, oblivious of the hard, cold counter beneath her. As she shuddered through her climax, Griff took her mouth in a wide-open, devouring kiss, until she was utterly lost. He eased her down to lay on the counter, legs dangling, kissed the tops of her breasts, then her collar bone, then her throat. He lingered there, inhaling, holding her while she trembled. “Okay, now,” she whispered. She reached up and framed his face with her hands. The tenderness in his gaze almost brought tears to her eyes. “Fuck me now, Griff.” His pupils enlarged until his eyes were almost black and his hands went to his jeans, opening them with a quick, masculine flick. He pulled himself out, then with both hands on her hips, he slid her right to the edge of the counter and entered her. With small gasps and ragged moans, she opened for him, pulled him in with every muscle she had. The counter was hard beneath her head, but she didn’t care, the thrill of him filling her so completely making her lose her mind. He stood over her, hands hard on her hips. She was sure she’d have bruises, but she couldn’t care less. With quick, hard thrusts of his hips, he pushed into her, sending her flying high, and she cried out as she felt him tense up and pulse hot and hard inside her. “No,” she mumbled, momentarily coming to her senses. 82
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“Griff…wait.” “Ah, shit,” he muttered, remembering at almost the same time. “Shit.” But there was no way he could stop, eyes squeezed shut, teeth clenched as his orgasm bore down on him like a double overhead wave, a wall of water crashing down on him, and he poured himself into her. Chest heaving, he stood like that for a long moment, then slid out of her, still hard. He grabbed some paper towels from the dispenser on the wall behind him, wiped himself and then, with tender care, Ainslie. She bit her lip and propped herself up on her elbows. “I’m sorry.” “It’s not all your fault. I forgot too. I lost my mind. I’m sorry, too.” He heaved a sigh. “You don’t have anything to worry about getting anything from me.” “Or me. And I’m on the pill. I won’t get pregnant.” He looked at her, face unreadable. “Okay, that’s good, I guess,” he said tightly. “What? It is good thing.” He pulled her skirt down over her thighs, saying nothing. “Griff. Tell me.” “You’re on the pill because of Matthew.” “Yes.” Shit, did he need to remind her of Matthew? Lust had sent the guilt flying out of her mind temporarily, but now it slammed back into her like a punch to her stomach. Not only had she cheated on Matthew, she’d sort of lied to him. 83
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She sat all the way up and watched Griff tuck himself back into his jeans with some difficulty. His mouth was tight, eyes narrow. God, he was jealous! Okay, so was that good or bad? She had never known Griff to be jealous. He was supremely confident, almost arrogant. The one time she’d flirted a little with another guy at a party, just to see if she could make him jealous, he’d been oblivious. That had been so disappointing and had only increased her doubts about how Griff felt about her. On the other hand, they had nothing between them now, other than this bizarre sexual reunion, and he had no right to feel jealous. How could she reassure him? The fact was there was another man in her life and there was no denying it. Even though she knew she would have to end things with Matthew now, she did not intend to tell Griff that. She wasn’t opening herself up that much to Griff. He’d left her once without a word and could very well do it again. “Griff,” Ainslie said, “yesterday when we were…um, on the couch…you said to remind you to apologize again. What was that about?” Griff blinked at her once, twice. Then a smile curved his beautiful mouth. “Ah…I wanted to apologize for being such a lousy lover.” She choked. “Ho, boy, no need for that.” “Not now,” he said with arrogance, still smiling down at her, the heat of his big hands warming her waist. “Back then. I just realized yesterday when I went down on you that I don’t think I did that enough. I don’t even know how often you had 84
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orgasms, which is really sad.” She stared at him. “Wow,” she said, “this is a crazy conversation.” “No kidding.” His steady gaze held hers. “Anyway, I’m sorry.” “But I loved sex with you,” she said softly, laying her hands on the hot, smooth muscles of his chest. “Loved, loved, loved it. So I didn’t have an orgasm every time. It’s not always all about that.” He shook his head. “I should’ve made sure it was just as good for you as it was for me. I was young and stupid…what can I say? Just a horny kid in a hurry to drop the J-bomb.” Ainslie laughed. “Anyway, I’m sorry. And not just for you. I missed out on a whole helluva lot by not doing that, too.” Her heart went warm and melty, like chocolate in the sun, as she looked at him so sincerely apologizing for the kind of lover he’d been. He had no idea that his lovemaking had filled her dreams and fantasies for years after he’d left. “I appreciate that,” she told him. “Believe me. And you’ve certainly made up for it. But I loved you so much, Griff, I just wanted to be with you. Any way, any how. You pretty much…ruined me for any other guy.” He gave her a “yeah-right” look. “It’s true,” she said. “I’ve…dated other guys since you left, slept with other guys.” His eyes narrowed and she rushed on, “I’m sorry, but you know that.” She paused. “But nobody has ever turned me on like you.” She slipped her fingers into 85
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the front pockets of his still-unbuttoned jeans, pulled his pelvis forward to bump against hers. “For a while—a long while-after you left, I felt so numb and dead, I didn’t think I’d ever have sex again. It just didn’t happen for me, with anybody. I even wondered if I was a lesbian.” His brows shot up at that. “Uh…Ains, honey…pretty sure you’re not a lesbian.” She laughed. “I know that now. I had to find out the hard way, though.” “Please tell me that doesn’t mean what I think.” He stared at her. She lifted a shoulder, wondering if she should be embarrassed. “It was just once.” “Holy shit.” She almost laughed at the comical expression on his face, dismay and astonishment mixed with interested arousal. “You’re joking.” “Um…no. But it didn’t work out, so I went back to guys.” “Jesus.” His topaz eyes darkened. “Okay, let’s hear it. Every detail.” “God, you’re just like every other guy.” She slid her hands up to his shoulders, all thick muscle and hard bone under warm, sleek skin. “Two girls, your ultimate fantasy, right?” “Maybe,” he said, a smile flirting with his lips. “Come on. Spill it. Who was it? Was she hot?” She fought her own smile. “It was nothing. A girl I knew from school kind of made it known she found me attractive. 86
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She was nice, I liked her, but I’d always just laughed it off. Then I went out with this guy and he was all over me and I was just so…not turned on, I decided maybe that was the answer. So I went out with her.” “Did you have sex with her?” She bit her bottom lip. “Um…yeah.” “Oh. My. God.” His eyes closed. “It was nice.” “Christ.” He moaned again. “But I wasn’t into…anything more than that, if you know what I mean. She went down on me, I came, but it didn’t feel…I don’t know…right.” She shrugged. He put a hand to his fly, and she could see she’d gotten him hard all over again. “So there.” She kissed his jaw and loved the roughness of his stubble, so ran her tongue over it. He shivered. “That’s why there’s no need to apologize.” “I cannot believe this,” he muttered. He looked like he was in pain. “Do you need to be put out of your misery?” she asked in a sympathetic voice, eyeing his hard-on appreciatively. She reached for him and unzipped the zipper he’d just done up moments ago. His hard length sprang out, so flushed and beautiful. She gave him a little push back and jumped lightly down from the counter, going to her knees in front of him. He groaned again, thrusting his hands into her hair, pushing it back from her face and holding her head. She admired him for 87
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a moment, stroking, then she licked the tip, where a drop of pre-cum oozed and tantalized. “Mmm,” she said. “You taste sooo good.” She licked him all over, up and down, getting him really wet, then she licked her palm and clasped him firmly, stroking while she sucked him. “Jesus, Ainslie.” His hands tightened in her hair, pulling her head to him in a quicker rhythm. She went with it, bobbing her head up and down, swirling her tongue around him, lips tight. When her hands lost their slippery wetness, she lifted her head and glanced around. Spying the carafe of olive oil, she reached for it off the counter and poured some into one hand, then rubbed her hands together. “Shit,” he muttered, as she took hold of him again, hands now sliding and slipping over his hardness. “Oh, man.” She took him in her mouth again, hands still wrapped around him and sucked and pulled on him. He thrust himself harder into her mouth, and she took him, then he came, with a long ragged moan. She took it all, loving the sharp tanginess of him, the way his hands held her head, how his hips pumped. She released him with a few long, slow licks, then looked up at him. He watched her with a scorching gaze. He reached down and pulled her to her feet, hauled her up against him and kissed her again. She wound her arms around his neck and kissed him back hungrily. “That was incredible,” he muttered into her hair, pushing her head against his chest. “You are so fucking hot.” 88
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She hugged him tighter. How on earth was she going to let him go…again?
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CHAPTER 9 After they stood there holding each other for long moments, hearts pounding together, she gathered up the pieces inside her, pushed away everything else and drew back a bit to smile up at him. “We should make some dinner.” So they did. They cooked together, moving easily around each other in her small kitchen, working well together. They both liked to cook and shared an interest in healthy eating. He approved of her choice of olive oil, although she’d never be able to cook with olive oil again without becoming aroused. She dipped a finger into the vinaigrette he whipped up for the field greens. “Yum.” 90
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They drank wine while they cooked and talked, and it was so easy and comfortable, other than the little sizzle she got every time their eyes met, or the shivers he gave her when he stroked a hand over her butt when walking by her, or lifted her hair to kiss her neck as she chopped herbs. After dinner, they took their glasses of wine into her living room and sat on the couch. He picked up the remote for the television, then put it down. “You can watch something if you want,” she told him. “Nah. Let’s just talk.” She reached out and put her hand to his forehead. “Nope. Not feverish.” He rolled his eyes. “Okay, if you want to talk, you’re going to be the one doing the talking,” she said. “Tell me about these games you develop.” “Hmm. Well, I started off working as part of a team developing games, which is usually the way you start out. Things have changed so much in the last ten years; it’s been an incredible ride. Back when I finished school, the market was pretty much cornered by Tagasha and Nintendo. Then others started getting into new technology and MMORPGs started to grow.” “Huh?” “On-line computer games. Massively Multi-Player Online Role Playing Games. You’ve probably heard of Starship? Fantasy Universe?” She nodded. “Mmm. Heard of them. Haven’t played them.” He grinned. “You haven’t played any of them, have you?” 91
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“Nope.” “I’m going to get you a MiniMod. It’s a handheld game my company developed. You’d like the new BrainMaster game.” She grimaced, wondering when he planned to get her this game, but said nothing. “It’s one of a bunch of new things I worked on,” he continued. “I started getting concerned about all the violence and some of the mindless crap that was coming out. I wanted to explore ways to make games educational.” “Really?” She was surprised. “Really,” he answered, a bit mockingly. “I know you may think I’m just a big dorky kid, but, like we were talking about earlier, I did get concerned about some of the information that’s out there about how games affect kids. I realized there’s no simple answer, like you said, but the more I studied things, the more I became convinced there are some links between violent games and kids’ behavior.” She was stunned silent. “I developed and produced some games that are starting to be used in schools now. They look like and play like adventure or RPGs…Role Playing Games,” he clarified for her at her look. “So kids feel like they’re just playing a game, but there’s a lot of history and geography built into them. Then MindMaster tests a lot of mathematical and language skills.” “Wow.” She was truly amazed. “That is so impressive.” He shrugged. “That’s where Tagasha and I parted 92
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company. They didn’t see the market value of stuff like that, but I wanted to create educational software as entertaining and compelling as some of these multiplayer online games or the really good video games. So I put together a great team and it was amazing how things took off.” Like she’d suspected before, he must have made a ton of money with that car and beach home and who knew what else. “I really got a lot of satisfaction from the idea that I was doing good for kids instead of harm. Not that I’ll ever totally admit video games are harmful to kids. There are a ton of good skills they learn from playing. Some games have a lot of cognitive benefits. They can be highly demanding, cognitively. Many games require tons patience and focus from the player. Plus, although people think games are instant gratification, games actually delay gratification a lot longer than other forms of entertainment, like movies or even books. Some research suggests video games may even increase players’ attention capacities.” “I have heard that,” she said thoughtfully. “What I’m getting into now is games that are even more interactive. Like the dance games where kids dance on the control pad.” “Oh, yeah, I’ve seen those at the mall.” He nodded. “Yeah. They can do it at home, and I’ve heard stories about kids losing weight from the dancing—it’s a cool way to exercise. So I thought maybe there are other ways we could get them off the couch…they’d control the game with a control pad using their feet and different movements. Not 93
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dance but it would be active and there are different levels.” “Wow.” Her vocabulary was momentarily limited by her surprise. It was kind of bizarre how his interest in getting kids active overlapped her own concerns about obesity, diet and activity levels for kids. She sat forward. “That could be a great part of my program. We have to get kids more active. Diet and nutrition are only part of it. It’s hard to find things parents can deal with. Some parents are so strapped for time these days, plus they don’t want kids out running around the neighborhood any more because they just feel it’s not safe. But it has to be fun and cool, or the kids just won’t do it.” Her mind was working, possibilities running through her head. Griff laughed. “There’s smoke coming out your ears.” She grinned. “I know. I’m just thinking of all the potential.” He reached out and touched a long strand of her hair, sliding his fingers down it, then twirling it around. “We’d make a good team.” The moment turned serious and heavy. Their eyes met. She swallowed, then turned her lips in and bit her top lip. “Yeah.” She jumped up, grabbing their empty glasses. “More wine?” “Sure.” She filled their glasses with hands that trembled. Don’t even think about any kind of future. Do not make that mistake again. Enjoy the moment, right here and now, but that is it. She paused before going back into the living room. Griff’s knowledge and success impressed her. She was happy he’d done so well, pride warming her inside at his 94
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accomplishments. But these kinds of emotions were so dangerous. She closed her eyes briefly, then pasted on a smile when she went back in the room. He was reading a medical journal that had been lying on top of a pile of magazines. “You wrote this article?” She nodded. “Yup. It’s the first one I’ve ever written. There was a lot of interest in the program.” He finished skimming over the article she’d contributed about her obesity program, then nodded. “It sounds impressive.” “Thanks.” She smiled. “Here.” She held out the wine, and his fingers brushed hers as he took the glass from her, sending another ripple of sensation through her. Then he glanced at his watch. “I should check my phone for messages,” he said. “I was expecting a call from Vince. You remember him?” She nodded. “Of course.” Vince and Griff had been inseparable buddies, bonded by their love of gaming and computers, both a little geeky. Vince had been his roommate in college, the one they’d maneuvered around with great difficulty in their attempts to have some time alone, in a bed. “He’s one of my partners.” Griff dug his tiny phone out of his pocket and opened it up. He turned it on and pressed some buttons. When he got through to his voice mail, he stood up and walked around, listening. “I’m just going to give him a quick call back,” he told her. “Sorry.” “That’s okay.” It was Saturday night, but she supposed being an entrepreneur meant he worked long and unusual 95
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hours. His phone had been silent ever since they’d met up. “Hey, Vince,” she heard him say from the kitchen. He listened. “I’m up in Santa Adalia… Oh, did she tell you that?” Pause. “She’s pissed? Oh, shit.” More listening. “Yeah, well…it’s…complicated.” Then, “Very complicated. Listen, go ahead and make that offer. Everything sounds good, and I’ll talk to you more on Monday.” He listened a bit more, then ended the call. Through the doorway, she saw him toss the phone down onto the counter and then stride back into the living room, pushing a hand through his hair. “Everything okay?” she asked lightly, hoping her voice didn’t sound as tight as her throat and her stomach felt. “Yeah, great. Now, where were we… Oh, yeah. We were talking about teamwork.” He sat down on the couch beside her and stroked a hand over her shoulder. “We…were?” “Mmmm.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “I like teamwork. Especially this kind of teamwork.” She blinked as she watched him with fascination, disturbingly aroused just by looking at his mouth and his eyes falling closed as he leaned in for a kiss full on the mouth, a soft, lingering kiss that reached deep inside her. “I want to take all your clothes off and kiss you all over,” he whispered, before pressing his lips to hers again. “I can’t stop touching you, Ainslie.” She sucked in her breath at his words, feeling that familiar flip of excitement low in her tummy and the rush of warmth 96
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between her legs. “I want to suck on your nipples and lick your pussy until you come.” His warm mouth moved over her cheek and the side of her neck. Her eyes fell closed with delight. “Here we go again,” she murmured, and he laughed. “Yeah, here we go.” His hands were everywhere, tugging her clothes off, worshipping her body with his touch. Her mind spun out of control with delirious pleasure made more acute by the fact he had invaded her heart and mind, as well as her body, with his surprising revelations about the work he’d done. She could no longer hate him; in fact, she was halfway to falling in love with him all over again. Not the playful, self-centered but charming youth she’d fallen in love with ten years ago, but the playful, charming, mature and thoughtful man here making love to her with his hands, his mouth, his words. She moaned with helpless delight as he turned her over onto her stomach, hands moving over her back and buttocks and the backs of her thighs where she was so sensitive that she squirmed beneath his touch. Then his mouth was there, his teeth sinking into the sensitive skin of her thighs, fingers sliding higher, tracing the crease between her cheeks, around and into her slick folds. Sensations sizzled across her flesh. “Open your legs for me, honey,” he murmured, brushing her hair back and licking her where her neck met her shoulder. Oh, God, it was so sweet and intoxicating. She felt like she was floating on an ocean of sensation, swept away, drowning in bliss. She parted her legs, loving the feel of his hand there, 97
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his other hand stroking through her hair, sweeping down the curve of her back, cupping her cheeks. Then he kissed her there on the curve of her bottom, licked the crease where her cheek met her thigh, nudged her legs farther apart. “We don’t have to do this here,” she struggled to speak. “The bedroom…” “Yeah.” His voice was rough. “The bedroom.” He turned and lifted her, taking her into his arms again. “I can walk,” she mumbled, but when she stood, her legs barely supported her, knees weak with an overload of erotic sensation. He slipped an arm beneath her legs and lifted her easily. “I love how you can do that.” She slid her arms around his neck and tucked her face into him. She felt so cared for, which was so at odds with how she’d built her independence. But it wasn’t weakness. Sometimes it took strength to surrender. And she knew Griff was not her conqueror, but rather her champion, and she was not a conquest but a willing partner.
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CHAPTER 10 When he laid her on the bed, he turned her again onto her stomach so he had the same exquisite view of her gorgeous ass, all smooth, round and firm. He stroked a hand along the curve of her back again, enjoying the ridge of muscle down each side of her spine, deepening at her lower back. He bent and kissed her in the hollows there, turning his head to inhale the scent of her, filling his lungs with the fragrance of her arousal. He kissed each buttock, so round and firm, drawing a finger along the crease beneath each, then tickling her thighs and making her squirm. He smiled. He turned her again so he could move between her thighs and taste the sweet honeyed taste of her. He ate at her 99
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hungrily, her thighs quivering beneath his hands as she whimpered. He was so hard he was in pain, but he only wanted to give her pleasure, to see that look of ecstasy, surprise and gratitude on her beautiful face. This overwhelming need to give was new to him, astonishing to him, and yet it felt nothing but right. He licked, sucked and devoured her until she came in tight, pulsing jerks, and he pushed two fingers inside her to feel her contract around him, warm and wet. “I love feeling you come like that,” he said. “Your hot pussy grabbing at my fingers.” When she was limp under him, he rested his cheek on her stomach, afraid to show his face and let her see what he was sure was clearly displayed there. He could not leave her again. Again. Shit. This time he was going to do things right. He drew a breath, fighting for control before he moved his body up over hers. He supported himself above her on arms that trembled. “Do I need to get a condom?” he rasped. She smiled lazily. “Why bother?” She lifted a hand to touch his mouth. “I trust you, Griff.” “Thank you.” God, being inside her naked, skin to skin, was so incredible. He hadn’t had sex without a condom since…well, since a few hours earlier in her kitchen, but before that, ever. Even as college students, they’d been smart enough to practice safe sex. They came together in a way that was so familiar, so right, so perfect, they both cried out. He took her mouth over and 100
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over in long, wet, sliding kisses, open-mouthed and tonguetwined, as he pressed into her. She lifted her legs and wrapped them around him, heels digging into his back as she urged him deeper. Sweat broke out along his brow and his chest as need exploded in his brain. “God, Ainslie!” he cried hoarsely. “You blow my fucking mind.” “Good.” He glimpsed a pleased smile before he kissed it away, mouth closing over hers as he poured himself into her, hot and out of control. “I love feeling you come like that, too,” she told him in a low voice. “Oh, man.” His words came out on a long, ragged groan. He was so done. He didn’t think he could move, wasn’t sure if he could remember his name. He panted against her, swallowed hard, twitched inside her. “I’m squashing you.” “Yeah, but I like it.” Her arms tightened around him, but he shifted his weight to the side. He pulled her against him, tucking her head under his chin and closing his eyes. Moments later, Ainslie stirred in his arms, trying to extricate herself from his grip and the tangle of sheets. “Where are you going?” he murmured, not wanting to let her go. “I…um…just need to clean up.” “Oh.” Yeah. No condom. He smiled and stretched in the bed as she left to use the small bathroom. The light came on and the door partially closed. God, he felt incredible, his body 101
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sated, luxuriously lazy and contented. When Ainslie slid back into bed beside him, he reached for her and pulled her close again, almost dozing. He sleepily kissed her jaw, rubbing his face against her. As Griff drifted off to sleep, he contemplated his next moves. Tonight had been intense. The whole day had, actually. Seeing Ainslie talk to her patient, seeing her being so assertive and confident, had been such a turn-on. Ridiculous, really. Then spending the evening cooking, drinking wine and talking, such a mundane, “couple” thing to do, had not been mundane in the least. She’d listened to him, genuinely interested in his work, even though he knew she’d regarded his Digital Arts studies in college as a joke. A couple of times she’d said how smart he was, and his ego had swelled a little. He’d never lacked for self-confidence, but it had always eaten at him, just a bit, that Ainslie was such a serious student with an important career goal, and his major was “playing.” It hadn’t been his intention to impress her by coming here, but he was glad she approved of the things he’d done with his career. It was also more than a little freaky that their goals overlapped so much. Or was it? Years ago, they’d shared long conversations about the things important to them, although at that age some of the things they’d talked about had been pretty lofty. Yet, although their paths had veered somewhat for each of them for different reasons, they were both happy and satisfied with what they’d accomplished, and both had goals they had yet to accomplish. 102
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He compared his feelings to his other relationships. Where Ainslie was bright, sharp colors, crisp graphics and complex stories, others were fuzzy, old-school, simple and…boring. She excited him, and not just physically. He had a decision to make. Or maybe it was already made for him. He’d tell her first thing in the morning. *
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Ainslie slept for a while, her body limp and satiated When she drifted back to consciousness, she lay there in the darkness, warmly cradled in Griff’s arms, his strong forearms crossed over her front, her butt snuggled up to his crotch. His slow, even breathing told her he still slept and she didn’t want to disturb him. She need time to process what had happened. Things had changed. What had started out as an irresistible sexual pull had transformed into something deeper. It scared the shit out of her. She blinked rapidly as tears stung her eyes. No, no, no, not now, she told herself fiercely. She thought back to earlier, in the kitchen, before he’d done her right there on her counter. She almost wriggled a little at that erotic memory. She’d been thinking about taking responsibility, though. He’d felt smothered. Although that had hurt her and shocked her, she’d had time to mull that thought over in her head, in her subconscious, and she realized he’d had reason to feel smothered. Every time he’d tried to pull away, she’d forgiven him and let it go. She hadn’t really let it go, of 103
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course. The hurt built up over time inside her, increasing her fear and anxiety, which resulted in her hanging on to him way too tightly. She hadn’t wanted him to go out without her, had questioned him every time he did. Which had probably had the effect of pushing him away. It was a circle of fear and love, pushing and pulling. The last ten years she’d been angry, bitter, hating him with every cell of her being. Blaming him. The truth was, she was just as responsible for the wreck of their relationship as he was. No, she couldn’t let him off the hook that easy. A real man would have had the balls to tell her he was leaving, and he hadn’t done that. But he hadn’t been a man, he’d been a boy. Now, as a man, he’d apologized, told her why, and it all kind of made sense. So where did they go from here? Could she live her life in peace, having forgiven him and accepted responsibility for her part in their torrid, doomed relationship, even if he left tomorrow? Tears gathered in the inner corners of her eyes again as she realized, hopelessly, that she would never love someone like this again. They’d only spent just over twenty-four hours together, much too short a time to fall in love, but she’d never really gotten over her first love for him. The last day had added another layer, a deeper dimension, knowing the man he’d become, the man who was not only thoughtful and insightful, but also thought provoking and fascinating. She blew out a long, slow breath, trying to keep from 104
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sobbing aloud. He was leaving tomorrow, and if they never saw each other again, how would she survive? She would survive. She’d survived last time and even made a life for herself, a life that gave her a lot of satisfaction and joy. She could do it again. If she’d learned nothing else over the last ten years, she’d learned she was a strong woman who could help others without being sucked into codependence, and who could need others without being needy. She swallowed hard and felt Griff move behind her. “You awake?” he whispered, his hand moving to her breast. “Yes.” Her breast swelled instinctively into his palm, her nipples hardening. “You okay?” “Yes.” “We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?” She nodded and let him turn her in his arms, and when he kissed her, her cheeks were wet. *
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They awakened in the morning to Ainslie’s pager going off. As Griff struggled back to consciousness, Ainslie muttered, “Shit!” and scrambled out of bed. She grabbed the pager and glanced at it. “It’s the hospital.” He frowned as she reached for the phone on the bedside table. She punched in numbers, pushing her hair back off her face. “It’s Dr. Patterson,” she said. She listened. “When? Who’s 105
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there? Okay, I’ll be right there.” She paused a second after hanging up the phone. “Ains? Honey, what is it?” “One of my patients.” She stood and began dragging clothes on. “She was hospitalized last week after an MI. She just arrested. They’re resuscitating her. I need to go.” “I’ll drive you,” he said, throwing back the duvet. “That’s okay. You can stay here. I don’t know how long I’ll be.” She turned to him. “Will you… I don’t know how long I’ll be.” Her unspoken question hung in the air. “I’ll drive you.” He pulled on his jeans. “I’m parked in the driveway behind you anyway.” She blinked. “Okay.” They were out of the house in moments into the early morning, the sun barely above the horizon, the air cool and fresh, the sky a dark blue. He sped to the hospital through quiet streets. She hurried into the hospital, and he trailed along behind her, wishing he could do something to help her. He followed her down a hallway, around a corner, to where she stopped at a nursing station. “Hi, Dr. Patterson,” one of the nurses said. “Dr. Johnson said he wants to see you as soon as you get here.” Ainslie nodded. “He’s in his office? How’s Mrs. Garcia?” “Stable.” Ainslie started to push through the ICU door, but stopped, appearing to remember Griff. He stood there and smiled at 106
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her. “There’s a cafeteria on the second floor,” she said. “If you want to grab a coffee, I’ll come find you there as soon as I know what’s going on.” “Sure. No problem.” He waved a hand as if scooting her in the door, and she flashed a quick, beautiful smile at him. He wandered down the hall, found a stairway and climbed to the second-floor cafeteria. Despite the early hour, it was half-full of various medical personnel eating breakfast and drinking coffee. He bought a cup, dumped in several packets of sugar and little creamers, then found an empty table. Jesus, he hated hospitals. Ainslie was so strong to work in this kind of environment. He imagined her during her medical school training. He’d heard the horror stories of thirty-six hour shifts while interning. How the hell could someone so little and soft make it through something like that? But while Ainslie might be little, he’d definitely learned she wasn’t soft. Well, she was, but only in the places you’d expect. His body twitched at the thought, at the memories of her softness. He shook his head and sipped the coffee, looking around. No, she was strong and tough. After he’d finished one cup, then another and still no Ainslie, he decided to go back to the ICU. Visitors had to buzz to get in, which he didn’t want to, so he took a seat in the small lounge just outside the unit. A family sat there, a young woman about his and Ainslie’s age, a man who appeared to be her husband and a baby sleeping in a car seat. The woman’s face was pink and 107
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streaked with tears and she sat next to her husband, her head wearily on his shoulder. They glanced at him and gave a brief smile as he entered. He picked up an ancient magazine and flipped through it mindlessly, not wanting to intrude on the young couple’s obvious sorrow. “Dr. Patterson is here now,” the woman said quietly to her husband, rubbing her nose with a crumpled tissue. “She’ll tell us what’s going on.” The man put his hand on his wife’s knee. “It’ll be okay, hon.” Griff looked up. They must be Ainslie’s patient’s family. He wanted to say something, but didn’t know what. Then Ainslie walked in. She looked decidedly un-doctor-like in the low-rise jeans and long-sleeved T-shirt she’d grabbed just over an hour ago. The couple looked up at her eagerly, attentively. She smiled at them, then noticed Griff. Her smile warmed. For him. He stood. “Do you need to talk to them?” he asked quietly. “I’ll wait outside.” “Thanks.” She stood on tiptoe and brushed her mouth over his. He squeezed her hand and stepped out of the room. The door closed and he couldn’t hear, but he could see through the blinds on the window that Ainslie took a seat facing them, leaning forward when speaking to them. She did most of the talking, making direct eye contact with them as she appeared to explain things. The man and woman nodded, listening 108
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attentively, the woman continuing to wipe tears. Then Ainslie took the woman’s hand and rubbed it, gave her a smile and stood. He could see them thanking her and an overwhelming pride and admiration swelled inside him. She was truly amazing. She came out and her smile faded a bit. She pushed her hand into her hair and rubbed the back of her head. “You okay?” he asked quietly. She nodded. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine.” She came to him and put her forehead on his chest. “Everything’s okay right now. The cardiologist is here, and they’re going to do emergency bypass surgery”—she glanced at her watch—“shortly. That’s her daughter…” She jerked her head toward the lounge. “She’s my patient, too.” “She seemed pretty happy and relieved to see you.” Ainslie smiled crookedly. “Mark is a great surgeon, but his people skills sometimes leave something to be desired. Sometimes those damn specialists forget people need to know what’s going on. They need things explained to them in simple, understandable language.” “And you did that.” “I tried.” She sighed and rubbed her eyes. “Can we go home now?” “You bet.” He put his arm around her shoulders and led her out of the building into the morning sunshine. Back at her place, he directed her to the bedroom. 109
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“What?” she asked, as he gently pushed her down the hall. “Back to bed,” he told her. “You woke up too early. And you didn’t get much sleep last night.” He knew she’d been awake during the night, plus he hadn’t let her sleep much. She sighed. “Okay,” she agreed. “Does that happen a lot?” he asked, as he lifted her T-shirt over her head. “Does what happen?” “Early morning phone calls and trips to the hospital.” “Actually, no, not that often. But the hospital knows if one of my patients is admitted, I want to be kept updated on what’s happening.” He unbuttoned her jeans and slid the zip down. “I have to say, seeing you there all professional, really turned me on.” “What doesn’t turn you on?” She laughed and he pushed her down to sit on the bed so he could remove her jeans. She unfastened her bra and tossed it to the chair, then slipped between the covers wearing only her pink cotton panties. She snuggled her head into the pillow and closed her eyes, then popped them open two seconds later. “Aren’t you coming to bed, too?” He smiled down at her, the light dim in the room with the curtains still pulled. “If I do, you won’t get any sleep.” Her lips curved into a smile and her eyes fluttered shut again. “That’s okay.” He stroked the hair back off her forehead. “Okay, but we’re going to sleep.” 110
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CHAPTER 11 He stripped off his clothes and joined her in her warm bed. She turned into his arms, sliding a leg over his hip to pull him closer between her thighs, kissing him, her hands holding his face. God, it felt incredible to be wanted that much. She was so hot and hungry for him, it made him almost desperate with need for her, too. He was hard as hell, but determined to let her get some sleep, so he tucked her head under his chin. When he awoke a few hours later, she was sprawled on her stomach, face pushed into the pillow. He pulled the covers back to admire her, unable to resist touching her back and smooth bottom. He stroked his fingers over her, down to the backs of her thighs, and she trembled. She was waking up. 112
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Her legs parted a little, and he smiled. He dipped his fingers between her legs and discovered she was wet. He pushed a finger gently inside her, and her legs widened farther, her butt lifting off the bed. Oh, yeah. So sweet. Her hair covered her face, so he reached up and drew it back, tucking it behind her ear to reveal her still-closed eyes and her teeth digging into her full bottom lip. She moaned. He moved over her, pressing her into the mattress with his weight, and kissed her cheek, her neck. Her butt thrust up at him again, making him even harder. Then he pushed her legs apart with both hands, a little roughly, impatiently, and she moaned again into the pillow, hands clenched into the sheets beside her head. He pushed into her and she met his thrusts, the soft, firm cheeks of her ass pressing into him. When she moved up, he pushed her back down, held her down, dominating her, driving into her again and again, but she kept fucking him back until he felt his balls tighten, spine tingle and then a rush of incredible pleasure swept from his toes to his head, hot and heavy. He pressed through his orgasm, holding her hips as he shuddered and groaned her name. He collapsed over her, drew back the hair from her face and kissed her cheek. She lifted her head and turned her mouth into his for a long, clinging kiss. He moved off her, both of them sweaty and sticky, leaving the covers off so they were bare. She turned into him, snuggled against him, one leg going over his so her hot, wet 113
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cunt pressed to his thigh. She started moving, undulating a little against his leg, and he realized she was seeking her own release. He smiled and cupped a hand over her ass as she pressed into him, rubbed against him shamelessly, then trembled and pulsed against him. He gripped her ass tighter, holding her as she climaxed. “Sorry,” he murmured into her hair. “I should’ve taken care of that.” “I can take care of myself,” she mumbled, still quivering. “I know, honey, but you shouldn’t have to.” She lifted her head to look at him, eyes a bit glazed. “Griff, there’re all different ways to have an orgasm. They’re all good. Some better than others,” she admitted with a smile. He grinned and stroked her back and hip. “Which ones are better?” “Mmm. The best are when you’re inside me.” “Ah.” “Yeah. It’s so intense when you’re inside me and I come all around you. God.” She shuddered a little at her own words. He was silent, unsure what to say to that, turned on. “Have you ever…you know?” “What?” “Have you ever come with someone inside you?” What the hell was she asking him? “Um, no.” “Oh. We should try it. It’s awesome.” He twitched and hardened, despite the fact he’d just come moments ago. 114
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“You want to,” she murmured, her hand stroking down his abdomen to his boner. He twitched hard, again. “Jesus, give me a few minutes.” He groaned. “I’m not twenty-two anymore.” She laughed. “Okay.” They lay there snuggling, petting, and talking. “I could use some food,” Ainslie said. “Mmm. Me, too. Bacon and eggs.” “I don’t have any bacon. But I have some ham.” “Ham sounds good.” Neither of them made a move to leave the bed. Ainslie’s hand slipped down to his dick again to find him rock hard. “You may not be twenty-two, but you’re pretty resilient.” She rose up and over him, straddling him. What a view. She lifted her hands to her tangled mane of hair and pushed it behind her head, holding it there for a moment, her breasts lifted high and full. Her nipples were swollen, dark and mouth-watering. His gaze moved down over her flat abdomen, the sexy dip of her bellybutton, to the puff of golden curls. His cock thrust up hard and thick between them. Ainslie looked down at him, took him in her hands and shifted so she was over him. He ached to be inside her, but she teased him, sliding the head through her wetness, back and forth until he was ready to flip her over onto her back and take her hard. Then she lowered herself onto him and it felt good. She was wet and hot around him, a velvet fist clutching him. She moved her hips in little circles, driving him insane and he 115
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gripped her hips, lifting her. She rose and fell in tune with his hands. Then, to his surprise and dismay, she lifted right off him. “Hey…” he protested. He watched her thrust two fingers inside herself, twirling them, then withdrawing them. Then she lowered herself onto him again, making him moan with pleasure. She leaned back and cupped his balls, making him jerk inside her, then teased the crevice between the cheeks of his ass with fingers wet from touching herself. A barrage of sparks shot up his spine. “Spread your legs,” she whispered to him, eyes on him, glittering and blue. He opened his legs, and her fingertips slid wetly over his puckered anus and his whole body bucked at the sensation. She massaged there, teased him, had him gritting his jaw and clenching his muscles. Oh, man, she was killing him. Then one finger pushed into him, slowly, gently. Jesus Christ! Her finger found nerve endings so sensitive, pleasure streaked through him like a comet. His hips lifted. Fire and ecstasy struck his balls, and he fucked up into her and came so hard and fast he thought the top of his head came off, an intensely powerful orgasm that rocked his body until he was limp and mindless. “Holy shit.” She lay down on top of him, stretching her legs out, his cock still inside her, twitching helplessly. “I told you,” she murmured, head on his chest. He was dumbfounded. Unbelievable, earth-shattering, 116
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heart-wrenching sex. He was utterly lost to her. *
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“Now I really need food,” Ainslie said a while later. Her stomach gave a little gurgle as if to convince him. “Mind if I take a quick shower?” “No, of course not. Help yourself to whatever you need.” She got out of bed, her body pleasantly achy. Her hips hurt a little from when he’d taken her from behind, pushing her legs apart, but the ache just made her remember and want more. He disappeared into the bathroom, and she staggered into the kitchen, warm, rumpled and sated. Soon the aroma of good strong coffee filled the kitchen. She peered into the fridge, looking for the ham and the eggs she knew she had. She got busy whisking eggs and had butter sizzling in the skillet when a phone began to ring. It was an unfamiliar warble, not her phone or her cell phone, and she turned around, seeking the sound. It was Griff’s cell phone, sitting over on the counter where he’d dropped it last night. It kept chiming and the water in the shower was still running, so she took the pan off the stove and picked up the phone. Maybe it was Vince. She flipped it open. “Hello?” Silence. “Who is this?” asked a woman’s hesitant voice. “Um…this is Ainslie.” “Oh.” The voice was cool, curt. “Were you calling Griff?” 117
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“Where is he?” “He’s…” She glanced down the hall toward the bathroom and the running shower. “He’s just unavailable at the moment. Can I tell him who called?” She heard an indrawn breath. “It’s Kassidy,” the woman snapped in an icy tone. “His girlfriend. Yeah, you can tell him I called.” The line went dead. Ainslie’s heart stopped and she feared she might need resuscitation like poor old Mrs. Garcia. Her body went cold as she stared at the small phone. She had no idea how long she stood there until Griff appeared in the door, in his jeans and nothing else, rubbing his hair with a towel. He looked at her holding his phone and raised a brow. “You had a call,” she said, in a voice that didn’t even sound like hers. Her stomach felt nauseous and she feared she might vomit. Her fingers tightened on the phone, her heart palpitating in an irregular, breath-stealing beat. “From your girlfriend.” “Kassidy called?” he asked cautiously, and the guilt on his face put an end to any faint hope she might have had that it was a mistake.
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CHAPTER 12 Ainslie looked at the phone in her hand through a scarlet haze and then drew back her arm and hurled it at Griff as hard as she could. It struck his shoulder and bounced off onto the floor, skittering along the hardwood into the hall. “Ow! Jesus!” He rubbed his shoulder and stared at her. “Ainslie, hold on…” “No.” Fury boiled inside her. “Just get out.” She shoved past him and down the hall, into her bedroom where she grabbed his duffel bag and the T-shirt on the bed. She stuffed it into the bag and stalked back down the hall to her front door, which she flung open. “Get out…now.” Her voice shook with wrath and agony, 119
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but she struggled to hold herself together. No way was she going to let him do this to her all over again. She would not put up with that crap again. Ever. “Wait, Ainslie.” He followed her. “I’ll explain—” “No, you won’t,” she said coldly. “I don’t want to hear any more of your bullshit.” His face was tight, strained. “But…” “You have a girlfriend.” “And you have a boyfriend,” he replied quietly. She paused a moment, nonplussed. “I told you about him,” she said. “You knew that. Why didn’t you tell me? You were just…doing it again, weren’t you? Were you trying to ‘put some space’ between you and her? You were using me. Jesus, Griff, just get out. Get the hell out.” She grabbed his hand and despite his much bigger size, with a shove she had his surprised body out the door. She slammed and locked the door behind him before the tears started. She stumbled back into the kitchen and realized she’d left the stove on. She turned it off, staring at the bread and eggs she had been preparing only moments ago through eyes blurry with tears. Her chest ached and her throat burned. She should have known. He was so smooth, so charming, so convincing, he had sucked her into his web yet again. She slammed a hand down on the counter top, then leaned her elbows on it, her face buried in her hands. Goddamn it, she was such an idiot. He was doing it to her all over again. He had a girlfriend he’d never thought to mention. Ha! 120
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The deception, just when a tiny seed of trust had started to germinate, cut deeply. The stabbing in her heart hurt so fiercely she put a hand to her chest and rubbed. Despite her thoughts last night about how she’d manage if he left, inside a bud of hope had been growing that maybe things wouldn’t end. She knew he couldn’t just stay forever, but there had been a faint little hope that he’d come back…they’d see each other again, and maybe things could work out this time. It had been a low, muted hope, not even something she’d been willing to admit to, so why did it hurt so much to have it crushed? She supposed it was the way it happened. Because he’d never mentioned a girlfriend, she’d assumed he was alone and there was some small possibility they could be together. She’d also known that whatever happened today when he left, she had to break things off with Matthew. It was not fair to him to go on, knowing how she felt about Griff, whether Griff returned her feelings or not. She wandered into her bedroom and looked at the bed, still unmade and showing signs of their lovemaking the night before. She wiped tears away with both hands and slowly crawled into the bed, wrapping herself in the covers. She inhaled deeply and drew in the scent of Griff and sex. Oh, God. A fist squeezed her throat and her stomach cramped. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been there when she heard a chiming noise again. She lifted her head and realized it was Griff’s cell phone. Curious, she climbed out of bed and 121
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followed the sound. The phone lay in the hall, against the baseboard. She’d pushed him out without it. She picked it up and debated answering it, finally deciding, what the hell. She flipped it open. “Hello?” Her voice emerged as a croak. There was a brief pause. “Ainslie?” It was the same woman. Ainslie’s stomach tightened. “Yes?” “Um…is Griff there?” The woman’s voice sounded thick. Ainslie swallowed past the tightness in her own throat, a little surprised. “Um…no. He left. He…forgot his phone.” “Huh? Where did he go? How could that be? I just talked to him two minutes ago.” Ainslie pushed her hair back, confused. “Not from here, you didn’t. I don’t know where he is.” “Oh. I…um, I don’t get it. I guess that doesn’t matter. I just called him back to tell him not to worry about coming by.” Her voice caught and she cleared her throat. “I’ll take his stuff over to his place later today before he gets back, so we don’t have to see each other again.” Ainslie tried to process that. “You…what?” “He just called to break up with me. You didn’t know?” “No. I kicked him out.” Her head felt clogged up. Stupid. There was silence. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on between you two. It sounds kind of complicated. I knew Griff was going to see you this weekend.” She sighed. “You gotta know when a guy tells you he’s going to see his old girlfriend 122
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to make sure things are really over, things are not really over.” Ainslie fell deeper into speechlessness. “So it wasn’t that big a surprise when he called and broke things off. I kind of figured that was coming.” Ainslie could hear the pain and tears in Kassidy’s voice. “Anyway, just tell him I’ll have his stuff to his place before he gets back to LA. I’ll leave his key in his house.” “I…won’t see him to tell him,” Ainslie began, but Kassidy had hung up. She closed the phone, her mind whirling. What the hell? He broke up with her? Where was he? How did he call her without his cell phone? Then a car door slammed shut out front. She stumbled to her door and opened it. Griff was walking up her driveway toward her. Lines etched his forehead and bracketed this mouth, and his brows slanted down. His hair was rumpled and his T-shirt wrinkled, but he looked so damn appealing. “Where did you go?” she asked him, her heart thumping so hard she could feel it in her mouth. “To the corner store down the street.” His voice was low. “There’s a pay phone there. I had to make a call.” “I know.” Their gaze held for a moment that stretched into two. “Are we going to do this out here, or can I come in?” he inquired, oh-so-politely. Ainslie considered his request. A few moments ago, she’d been furious and heartbroken. Now she was confused and 123
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curious. She sighed heavily. “Come in.” She moved aside so he could enter. “Um…want some coffee?” “Not really,” he said abruptly. “Yeah, okay.” They went into the kitchen, and, with trembling hands, she poured two mugs, then gave him the milk and sugar he needed. She perched on a stool and lifted her mug to her lips with both hands, afraid she’d spill it if she tried with only one. Her hands were shaking so much, she barely touched the mug to her lips, but it helped to have something to do. “I’m sorry you had to find out about Kassidy like that,” he began. “God, here I am, apologizing again for another stupid mistake. I was so goddamn determined to do things right.” “Why didn’t you tell me about her?” Ainslie inquired in a small voice. “I really don’t know.” He bent his head. “When I saw you, I just wanted you. I guess I felt like, if I told you about her, you wouldn’t talk to me.” She nodded. That was probably true. “I was going to tell you today. You probably don’t believe that, but it’s the truth. We have a lot to talk about.” Again, she nodded. He took a breath. “I was being honest with you about my reasons for coming up here to see you. I just…couldn’t tell you about Kassidy. Or what had prompted me to come see you now.” “Why not?” 124
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“Jesus, I can only open myself up so much. Man.” He rubbed his face. “Kassidy and I have been seeing each other for a while. She started talking about marriage. Usually that sends me running, but I actually felt like I was kind of ready for that…family, kids. You know.” He paused. “But I was having a hard time seeing that with her. I was telling the truth when I told you I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind for the last ten years, and I couldn’t marry Kassidy without seeing you one more time, just to…see you. I don’t know what I really expected. I told her that.” “She called back again.” Her heart thawed and softened just a bit. “She told me you’d just called and broken up with her. She said she saw it coming.” He nodded and rubbed a hand over his chest. “I feel like shit for doing that to her. Christ, it’s hard to break up with someone. I still have to go and face her in-person.” Ainslie told him what Kassidy had said. He drew in a long breath. “Nice of her to let me off the hook, but I feel crappy about doing that over the phone.” “You big softie, you.” His gaze cut toward her, but then his face relaxed ever so slightly. “I am not,” he denied with a scowl. “I just don’t like hurting people.” “That’s why you couldn’t break up with me. It was easier just to leave.” “Yeah. Coward.” He sighed. “At least I talked to Kassidy. See how much I’ve grown up?” 125
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“You should’ve told me about her.” “I know, and I planned to. Truly, Ains, I planned to tell you today, to tell you…to ask you…hell.” He rubbed his eyes. “I knew as soon as I saw you things weren’t done between us. But, God, Ainslie, after spending the weekend with you, I was a goner. There’s no way I could marry Kassidy. Or even keep seeing her.” Hope blossomed in her like a flower. Her chest expanded with the breath she couldn’t let out. “Why, Griff?” “Because I still have feelings for you,” he choked out. She smiled, warmth spreading from her heart down her arms and legs. “What kind of feelings, Griff?” He shook his head, mouth curving into a wry smile. “You’re torturing me, aren’t you?” “You bet.” “C’mere and I’ll show you.” He slid off his stool and took the coffee cup from her hands, then pulled her stool close. He framed her face with his hands, the stool putting her almost level with his face. Tipping his head, he kissed her, with so much love and tenderness she thought her heart might burst. He nibbled at her bottom lip, sucked it gently, then kissed her again, stroking his tongue over hers. “I love you, Ainslie.” She wound her arms around his neck and kissed him back with everything she had until she almost fell off the stool. “Griff, I think I love you, too.” “You think?” He pulled back, eyes questioning. She met his gaze steadily. “This is all going really fast. You have to understand that I… You hurt me a lot last time. I 126
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never really got over that, but it did help me grow into who I am now. I’m a lot stronger than I was.” “Believe me, I know that,” he said. “And I love it.” She smiled. “But when I found out about Kassidy, I thought you’d done the same thing to me all over again. That hurt, too. I’m sorry, but I guess I didn’t totally trust you.” He nodded somberly. “So, God, yes I have feelings for you, so much. So much more than even before when we were kids. But we’ve only been together a weekend. I want to be with you, but it’s going to take time. I don’t know what you’re thinking about us, and what will happen next…” “I haven’t thought a lot about it, except I know I have to be with you, too.” “My life is here,” she said.“And yours is in LA.” He shrugged. “Not necessarily. With the kind of work I do, I can work anywhere. And LA is only a couple of hours away.” “Really? You’d move here?” He looked at her like she was crazy. “Of course I would. I love it here.” “Whoa.” Her breath left her all in a rush. “I didn’t expect that.” “What were you thinking?” “I don’t know. I was too afraid to expect anything.” His eyes closed as if he was in pain. “I’m sorry.” She swallowed past a lump in her throat and she nodded. “What about Mitchell?” 127
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“Matthew.” She swiped a tear from her cheek. “I’d already decided to break up with him. I couldn’t keep seeing him with the way I feel about you. Whatever happened. It wouldn’t be fair.” “Whew.” He looked so relieved, she laughed. “I can’t believe you’re jealous of him,” she said happily. “I am not jealous.” “Yes, you are, and I love it.” She gave him a big smooch on the mouth. “Do you…love him, Ains?” She considered that. “Apparently not,” she answered.“I care for him, I really do. I feel horrible for what I’m going to do to him, because I think he does love me. But I don’t love him the way I love you.” She swallowed. “You’re the one I want to be with.” He smiled slowly and gently pushed her hair back from her face with both hands. “So we’ll just take our time and keep getting to know each other all over again and…see where we end up.” She nodded and pressed her forehead to his. “Is that okay?” “You know patience isn’t one of my strengths.” “I know.” “But you’re definitely worth waiting for.” “Aah. Thank you.” She kissed him again and hugged him. “So are you. God, Griff, so are you.” If it meant all that time apart, that growing up into a man and a woman with the confidence not to hold on too tightly, 128
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the strength to forgive, the courage to risk opening their hearts again to a love so powerfully connecting—it was all worth waiting for.
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KELLY JAMIESON
Kelly Jamieson is the author of several sexy romance novels. Her writing has been described as “blisteringly sexy” and “a spicy delicious read.” She lives in Winnipeg, Canada, with her husband and two children. If she can stop herself from reading or writing, she loves to cook. She has shelves of cookbooks that she reads at length. She also enjoys gardening in the summer, and in the winter she likes to read gardening magazines and seed catalogues (there might be a theme here...) She also loves shopping, especially for clothes and shoes. But her family takes precedence over everything else (yes, even writing). She has two teenage children who are the best kids in the world, not that she’s biased, and a wonderful husband who does loads of laundry while she plays on the computer, writing stories. Kelly loves hearing from readers, so please visit her website at: www.kellyjamieson.com or contact her at
[email protected]
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Don’t miss How To Save A Life by Kelly Jamieson, available July 2009 at AmberHeat.com! After her best friend is brutally murdered by a stranger she met one night in a country bar, Marli McKinnon feels grief stricken and horribly responsible. Driven by guilt, she returns to Cactus Jack’s Saloon, hoping to encounter the man she knows as Ron, not sure what she’s going to do if she sees him. Instead she meets another stranger—a big, gorgeous man with whom she shares a surprising connection, to whom she’s unwillingly attracted. Six months ago, FBI Special Agent Trey Nicholson’s life was ripped apart by betrayal, which sent his life spiraling into the biggest screw-up of his career. He’s intrigued by the pretty, sad-eyed blonde he meets at Cactus Jack’s, and curious about what she’s doing there all alone. When Marli learns he’s an FBI agent, she asks for his help. She tells him the story of her friend’s murder and Trey realizes with horror that the serial killer he let get away has killed again. Each motivated by guilt, Trey and Marli work together to try to find the killer before he kills again…before he kills Marli.
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