Chased by a Stranger (Craved Series #3) (3 page)

I was absolutely bursting at the seams. It felt like I’d found
something wonderful that I couldn’t tell anybody about.

At least, not before I got something to eat. Having Audrey again
really worked up my appetite.

I ordered a shrimp kra pao and a banana milkshake at the
restaurant across the street from my apartment before leaning back to enjoy the
view of the beach.

I couldn't remember the last time I'd had such a pleasant start
to a day. I felt alive again in a way I missed. It was a feeling I used to have
all the time when I was excited about something new, and it made me recognize something
in myself that I’d forgotten.

I took a deep breath and let my mind wander to thoughts of
Audrey on her knees, closing her eyes as she took me in her mouth and moaned,
sending warm vibrations through my whole body.

God that woman could work a dick. And I wasn’t the easiest to
impress either. I was way past the teenage attitude of all pussies and lips
being created equal. On the contrary, I’d been on this Earth long enough to
know that sex was an art, a skill, a talent that could be taught and learned
and practiced.

And I was pleased to have discovered that Audrey’s artistry
extended far beyond what she could do with pencil and paper.

But the poor woman! I’d busted a load at the back of her throat
big enough to fill a milk bottle and she just took it in her stride, sucking me
down like she couldn’t believe how good I tasted.

My neck felt hot just thinking about it.

And as my mind continued to wander, it was like the wonders
never ceased. I remembered the way I looked entering her from behind, the
mounds of her round ass in my hands. Most men probably went their whole lives
without ever having an ass like that in front of them.

I sighed.

Goddamn it that woman was under my skin.

And it wasn’t just how sexy she was either. It wasn’t just the
fact that she moved so timidly until she was in control, until her eyes flashed,
giving away the fact that she’d figured out exactly what she wanted.

She was sweet, too. And funny. And smart. And kind.

Most of the women I knew who were good at sex were fucking hard
work to be around when their mouths weren’t full of dick. But Audrey was easy.
She made jokes. She was flirtatious. She treated me like my company was enough
and never asked for anything besides a good time.

And boy did I want to show her a good time. Hopefully, the
double date tonight would provide the perfect opportunity.

Except on some level, I knew it wouldn’t be enough for me. I
knew no matter how well everything went, I’d be disappointed that a good time
was all I’d be able to offer her.

Especially since I knew I could offer her so much more.

Sure my life was up in the air at the moment. And no one would
accuse me of being organized or having it all figured out, but that’s only
cause I had no reason to get my shit straight before.

If I had a reason to invest my money better, a reason to get a
better place, a reason to travel more- to work more- I would do it. Of course I
would. It’s not like I was some kind of bum. Well, okay, I was a complete bum,
but only because I could afford to be.

Truthfully, my only real problem was how bad it hurt to know she
wasn’t really mine, that I couldn’t make her mine, and that she probably didn’t
want to be mine. Still, thinking about her filled me with a sense of hope for
the future I hadn’t felt in a long time.

Unfortunately, when reality settled in, I remembered that
tomorrow morning she would be headed back to Seattle and I felt dejected again.

She would be fine, of course. She would get a new job, and soon
someone else would catch her eye and she would forget all about me.

But the thought of that made me feel sick. The thought of her
going out and smiling over the table at some schmuck who could never give her
what I could made me feel so frustrated it was crazy.

And it’s not even like she was my fucking soul mate.

But what if she was?

The only way of knowing was to keep seeing her. It’s not like I
couldn’t afford it. Hell, my Mom would probably love to meet up if I had a
reason to swing by the west coast more often.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t that simple.

On one hand, there was something pure and wonderful about having
such a short, perfect relationship, a relationship where no one got ugly or complacent
or took the other for granted or decided they would rather fake a headache than
fuck.

Cause that was reality.

Even the most solid couples- the ones who enjoyed the truest
love- eventually made it through the honeymoon period to the bathroom door open
stage where maintaining the fiery chemistry that existed in the beginning
became a challenge.

And I wasn’t sure if we really wanted that, if we were even
capable of it. Sure, it could happen. It happened all the time to the
“luckiest” couples because they reached a point where embracing the less
glamorous side of maturing love seemed better than losing the person.

But at this point, Audrey and I had both made a perfect
impression on each other. Our memories of one another were totally pure and
good, and I have to admit that I liked the idea of her having an inflated,
complimentary perception of me.

Cause the chances that we were meant to be were pretty slim.
Frankly, I wasn’t even sure I believed in soul mates. I’d met people who were
well suited, sure, but fate was an altogether different question.

Was it convenient and serendipitous that Audrey came into my
life the way she had? Yes.

Was she just as lucky that I showed up when I did? Certainly.

But did that mean we should push our luck? That we should try
and twist this thing into something other than what it already was?

What if we weren’t meant to be?

If that were the case, then the relationship would run its
course and when it ultimately ended, at least one of us would be bitter or
disappointed. Or one of us would feel misrepresented or wrong or inadequate or
one of the countless other ugly emotions that hadn’t had cause to rear their
ugly heads into our relationship up to this point.

Then, instead of
Jack Quinn the handsome doctor who fucked my
brains
out
, I’d end up being
that douchebag whose name shall not
be spoken
. It was inevitable. The list of exes I had that I was still on
good terms with was nonexistent.

Personally, I blamed their unrealistic expectations and the fact
that their noses were so stuck up it was like we weren’t even breathing the
same air, but I’m sure they’d all have similarly flattering comments to make
about me… probably starting with my control issues and ending somewhere with my
screwed up family priorities and my obsession with exercise.

But that was the past.

And what mattered was whether Audrey was the future.

Obviously, the last thing I wanted was for things to go sour
between us or to scare her off. Then again, she was leaving either way.

The worst that could happen would be if she said she didn’t feel
the same way, that it was just sex for her and I shouldn’t bother calling.

Or was it?

Maybe the worst thing would be if I let her get away without
knowing where she stood?

After all, I was a doctor. Based solely on the symptoms she’d
displayed in the last forty eight hours, there was a chance that she had real
feelings for me.

And I had to know.

I couldn’t leave it to chance.

I was lucky enough that chance brought us together, but I had to
take this into my own hands. Tonight.

Or I could risk losing her forever.

And then I’d be right back where I started.

Except things would be worse.

Cause I’d know she was out there and that I let her slip away.

We drank our way through a whole bottle of wine and Jack still
hadn’t turned up. I was doing my best not to look at the clock and then the
door and then the clock and then the door, but I’m sure I was doing a pretty
shit job of it.

Meanwhile, Megan was bending over backwards to keep the
conversation light, avoiding the subject of Jack’s tardiness as best she could,
but his empty seat beside me was so painfully obvious there might as well have
been a spotlight over it.

To make matters worse, I sensed that Megan and Matteo wanted to
be pawing at each other but were trying to keep their hands to themselves so I
wouldn’t feel even more awkward, which was only making the tension at the table
more palpable.

“I don’t know
about you guys,” I said finally, “but I’m starving.”

“Are you sure
you don’t want to wait a little longer?” Megan said. “There’s no rush.”

“Not at all,”
I said. “I’m sure he’ll understand if we get started.”

Matteo was
visibly relieved and immediately ordered half a dozen seafood plates to share
and another bottle of white wine.

I pushed the
thought that Jack might not be coming at all out of my mind. After the morning
we had, surely he would show up.

I looked down
at my lap and pressed my hands down on my folded napkin. They were the same
hands Jack had pinned about my head on the rooftop, the same hands that had
stroked him into submission earlier that day.

So why wasn’t
he there?

I was doing my
best not to pout but I couldn’t see how my big blow off wasn’t affecting
Megan’s last meal with Matteo. By the time the mains arrived, I felt sick, and
I was sure I couldn’t be any more embarrassed.

Until the
waiter asked if he could take Jack’s empty chair to another table at which
point I insisted they take the place setting, too.

I felt
absolutely ridiculous. It was like I was all dressed up for the ball and prince
charming was nowhere to be seen. I’d labored over my hair and makeup and shaved
and buffed my body to a high sheen. I even let Megan convince me to wear a new
dress she bought that day that had a plunging neckline that- at least when I’d
first tried it on- made me feel up for anything.

Even Matteo
went out of his way to tell me I looked beautiful, going so far as to say that
even if my date was a doctor, he couldn’t have been that smart if he would
stand up such a beautiful woman.

At that point,
Megan elbowed him and smiled at me apologetically.

That’s when I
decided I needed to excuse myself.

After all,
feeling sorry for myself was one thing, but being pitied by my best friend and
a man I didn’t even know was too much. I had to get out of there before my hurt
turned to bitterness and I really spoiled their evening.

Just because I
was upset enough to have a complete breakdown didn’t mean Megan shouldn’t have
a good time. Besides, the gorgeous seafood spread just reminded me of my first date
with Jack, essentially spoiling my appetite entirely.

“I have a bit
of a headache, guys,” I said, pushing my chair back from the table. I stood up
and plucked my purse from where it was hanging on the back of my chair. “I
think I’m going to go back to the room and lie down for a while.”

“You don’t
want to at least stay for dessert?” Megan asked. “They’ve got an amazing
collection of sorbets. I think you’d really enjoy th-”

“No, thanks,” I
said. Normally, skipping an opportunity to eat ice cream was against everything
I believed in, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to get the hell out of there
more than anything. “You guys have some for me.”

Matteo stood
and walked over to me, giving me a kiss on both cheeks. It was everything I
could do not to crumble in his arms.

“It was a
pleasure meeting you,” he said.

“You too,
Matteo,” I said, forcing a smile. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

I couldn’t
even look at Megan when I walked out. I was afraid if I did she would know I
was two seconds away from bursting into tears.

The deflation I
felt as I made my way back to the room was greater than any I’d felt since I
was a teenager. It reminded me of that time I was late for dance lessons in
eighth grade and had to dance with one of the adult chaperones. It was so
humiliating I could taste it.

And even
though all my peers couldn’t see me now, getting stood up by a handsome doctor
on what I hoped would be the best night of the holiday yet, it was worse
somehow.

Perhaps
because my hopes for this evening were so much higher than they ever were for
dance lessons.

And I wanted
Jack to show up more than I ever wanted a certain boy to pick me. I mean, it
was one thing to not get picked when you didn’t have your heart set on someone,
but when you did and he didn’t come through… ugh. I felt like I was drowning.

When I got
back to the room, I pushed the door closed and leaned against it. Across the
room I could see the mirror where I watched Jack’s head moving between my legs,
watched as my cheeks went pink and my lips fell apart.

I turned my head
towards the digital clock across the room. It was after nine. I had officially
been stood up. I slumped against the floor and dropped my head on my knees.

Maybe I dodged
a bullet. Honestly, if all Jack wanted was another notch on his bedpost, he
certainly got it. And if that’s all he was after, perhaps he was right not to
mislead me by going on another date and making small talk with people whose
company he hadn’t chosen.

Or maybe I
just screwed everything up again. It could’ve been the sketch. He might have
been totally wigged out by it.

Why had I left
it on the nightstand in the first place like an idiot? Would it really have
been so hard to put it away? But I couldn’t have known he would look at it. Or
that things would escalate like that after the massage.

I dragged the
back of my fingers under my eyes to keep the tears from falling out and making
me look as messy as I felt.

What was wrong
with me? Why did I keep picking these guys who didn’t give a shit? Did I need
counseling or something? Did I have “sucker” tattooed across my forehead?

And more
importantly, was my wholehearted attempt at fun, meaningless sex not as good as
I thought it was? Was two fucks really enough to put him off me?

Shit.

If only he’d
called. Not that he had a number.

And he
certainly wouldn’t be getting one now.

Fuck him.

Fuck him like
he fucked me.

I was better
off without him.

Wasn’t I?

Sure, I’d let
fucking a hot doctor go straight to my head in just a few days. But he didn’t
owe me an explanation. He didn’t owe me anything.

He stuck to
his oath.

He fixed my
foot.

And if I ever
saw him again, I’d know right where to stick it.