Come Back to Me (Erotic Reunion Romance, Virgin Sex, New Adult Romance)

Copyright Information

 

This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real world events, people, actions, and organizations, are purely coincidental and unintended.

 

Come Back to Me copyright @ 2012 by Colleen Anderson. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embedded in critical articles or reviews.

 

Other Works by Colleen Anderson:

 

Billionaire Wet Work – Breeding the Assassin

Summer Breeding – An Impregnation Erotica

The Professor's Sex Slave

Oil Pump: The Dirty South

 

 

Come Back to Me

 

by

 

Colleen Anderson

The last time I saw Josh; he had waved to me from the other side of the terminal with the same lopsided grin on his face that had melted my heart when I first met him. I wanted to tell him then how much I loved him and how much I didn’t want him to leave. But I didn’t. Instead, I watched him turn around and disappear into the crowd.

 

I don’t think he ever knew how I felt when he disappeared from my life twelve years ago. And I definitely didn't think he would ever come back to my life.

 

If you had asked me back then where I would be, I sure as hell wouldn’t have said working at my old high school as the orchestra teacher. But it’s funny how life worked out, isn’t it? After enough time, everything just became a routine. Wake up in the morning, put on makeup, get dressed, and go to work. And then, it’s just another eight hours until the last bell rings and it’s time to go home. After a while, I kind of just got used to it and started enjoying the monotony.

 

Sure, there’s that sudden realization every once in a while that life was passing me by and I’d find myself wondering what my life would be like if I had just said something twelve years ago.

 

But I didn’t say anything then, and I can’t change the past.

 

My violin was my companion on those lonely nights. I could’ve been playing for the city symphony. Most of my students even asked me why I was teaching when I could be performing. They didn’t know that the symphony was out of money and couldn’t pay. I didn’t have the heart to tell them that, just like how I didn’t have the guts to tell Josh.

 

I got to the school a little bit later than I usually do thanks to an accident on the freeway. At least I still had about an hour before my first class started. Pouring myself a cup of coffee, I sipped on it quietly while the other teachers shuffled about the teacher’s lounge.

 

My friend Sandy sat down next to me. Like me, she didn’t have her first class until an hour. But unlike me, Sandy had the body of a model, with full voluptuous hips, hair that seemed to bounce with her step, and a pair of perky breasts that turned heads no matter where she went. Her students always said that she was their favorite teacher. Funny how they were almost always boys.

 


Morning, Stacey!” She was so bubbly too.

 

The coffee still hasn’t kicked in yet and all I can do is quickly mutter an indistinguishable “Good morning” back at her.

 

“What’s wrong? You look tired.” Sandy ran her hand through her hair and casually flipped it back.

 

“Oh nothing, late night.”

 

“Ooh.” There was a devious grin on Sandy’s face and she pulled her chair closer. “So, tell me. Who’s the lucky guy?”

 

“No, it’s not like that. I stayed up too late practicing.”

 

“Oh.” The grin disappeared from Sandy’s face.

 

I hated the fact that Sandy gets so excited about other people’s dating lives. She has this funny thought process that if you show up to work tired, you must’ve been out with a guy last night. Not all of us look like you, I thought to myself—a little more bitterly than I’d like. Maybe I’d think differently if I were getting a piece of the action myself. Maybe not. I braced myself for the inevitable follow-up question from Sandy.

 

“So, when was the last time you…” She looked at me furtively. “You know…”

 

“A while.” That was a lie.

 

I was pretty sure my face turned beet-red right there. I just nodded and looked away. It felt so humiliating.

 

“Hey, don’t worry, we all have dry spells. Tell you what, why don’t you drop by my place tonight. Let’s go hit the town.”

 

“It’s a school night, Sandy.”

 

“That’s fine. You need to get out there and at least try to play the game a little. I have this cute little red dress that’d be perfect for you. Oh this is going to be so much fun.” Sandy got more and more excited as she talked.

 

Somehow, I didn’t share her excitement.

 

The bell rang. It was time to get to work. Sandy was still talking about the crazy things we’d be doing tonight as we walked out of the lounge. I turned for the music hall and sighed as Sandy’s heels clacked away upstairs. Her lifestyle was incompatible for me. I never liked the loud club scene, nor did I really enjoy drinking all that much.

 

Class seemed to drag on forever the next day. When the bell rang and the last of my students was busy filing out of the door to the next class, I saw a man standing by the door. His royal black suit was slung casually on his back. A bright red skinny tie stood out against his baby blue silk shirt. A thin but well-trimmed beard lined his strong chiseled jaw.

 

“Stacy Johnson?” I almost didn’t recognize that lopsided grin.

 

“Josh?”

 

“My God, Stacey, you don’t remember me?” He feigned hurt and laughed. My heart skipped a beat at the voice. I haven’t heard it in twelve years.

 

“It’s been a while!”

 

“Twelve years, four months, and fifteen days.” He walked forward, found his old seat as the first chair of the second violins, and sat down. “This place hasn’t changed one bit.”

 

Has he seriously been keeping count of the days? Instead, I stammered. “Did you honestly expect it to?”

 

Josh looked around at the raised ceiling of the room before settling his eyes back on me. They were the same piercing gray-blue color as I remembered them. “Didn’t they say they were going to replace those microphones?”

 

“I guess.” And there it was again, just like twelve years ago when I watched him leave. My mouth refused to work.

 

He grinned at me again and before I could react, swiped the score from my hand and thumbed through it. Just like he used to.

 

“Telemann? When did these kids learn how to play?”

 

“Don’t be an ass.” My students this year were the best ones I’ve had so far. They had tackled some of the more difficult pieces for a high school orchestra. Parents always came to me after a concert with praises about how well their kids played. Each compliment made my day just a bit brighter and gave me enough motivation to keep doing my job.

 

He closed the score and handed it back. “Sorry.”

 

“So what are you doing here?”

 

“I got bored and decided a change of scenery was in the works.”

 

“Why here?”

 

He smiled. “There’s something about this place, you know? I miss it. The same Texas heat. The oversized ice teas. You just don’t get stuff like that in New York.”

 

“Is that where you work now?”

 

“Yep.” He reached into his pocket. “Here, take my card. Give me a call when you get bored.”

 

I shook my head. “You haven’t changed one bit.”

 

He flicked a speck of dust from his shirt. “I like to think I have. A bit more money now. Financial freedom. Feels good.”

 

I didn’t say anything to that last bit. The freedom that Josh had was what I had wanted my entire life. To be able to travel the world and see things from another perspective. But my job simply didn’t pay enough. The thought of Josh leaving soon to return to New York made me jealous—almost a bit resentful and a little bit scared. I wasn’t one that believed in fate, but people don’t just show up to randomly say hi after twelve years.

 

“So are you here on vacation?”

 

“I guess you can call it that.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I’ve retired, Stacey. No more work. No more stress. Just myself and the world.”

 

“Sounds amazing.”

 

“It is. You should try it.”

 

The jealousy bubbled again. “I’m a high school music teacher, Josh. I barely have enough money to put food on my table for the week.”

 

“In that case, how about I take you out to lunch?”

 

“I can’t.”

 

“Why not? You’re afraid that I’ll ask you to pay for your meal?”

 

“No. It’s just…Class starts in twenty minutes.” And there it was again. I was that stupid teenage girl who couldn’t find the right words to put in her mouth.

 

He smiled and I couldn’t help notice how straight his teeth were. “What about dinner?”

 

“I can do dinner.”

 

“I’ll pick you up at six.”

 

Josh was true to his word. When the clock turned exactly to six, a jet-black sports car rolled into the school parking lot. Some of the students who had stayed behind for extra-curricular activities turned and pointed at the car. Josh stepped out, dressed more casually but every bit as dapper as he looked when he first showed up.

 

I tried to hide my face walking to his car. Some of my students whistled and yelled “Yeah, you go Ms. Johnson!” There were disapproving and envious looks from some of the other teachers. I caught a glance of Sandy. She had this unreadable look on her face. I couldn’t tell if it was disbelief or jealousy.

 

“You’ve made quite a scene.” I whispered.

 

“Let the peanut gallery have what they want.” He smiled and opened the door.

 

“When did you become such a gentleman?” I asked when I sat down.

 

“About ten years ago.” Josh started the engine and backed out of the parking lot. The scent of his cologne wafted over. It was enough to leave tiny wisps of scent but not overpoweringly nauseating like so many of my students. I drank his scent and felt it flow through me. I remember reading in a book somewhere that smell was from small particles of whatever it was that I smelled. So, in a way, I had little bits of Josh inside of me right now.

 

I was fine with that.

 

“Mind if I turn on the radio?” I leaned over to get a bit closer.

 

“I don’t like radios. Here.” Josh pulled out a CD.

 

“The Best of Bach. Interesting choice.”

 

“Makes for good driving music. Plus, nobody can criticize your music choice.” He grinned. “Nobody important, at least.”

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