Authors: Shelli Stevens
Hawaii
. Her stomach knotted at the thought of Hawaii and
him
.
“And you’re all done,” the x-ray tech said. “I’ll go develop these and then the doctor will look at them.” The nurse led her back to a small room. “You go ahead and wait here.”
Melanie sat down on the examination table since she assumed that’s where she was supposed to be. Maybe fifteen minutes went by, and she was starting to doze, when she heard brisk approaching footsteps outside in the hallway. They halted abruptly and she heard a male voice mutter something unintelligible.
A brisk knock on the door came, and then it opened. Her lashes fluttered up and blinked trying to focus on the man in the lab coat. Maybe there was a hallucinogenic side effect in the pill the nurse had given her, because the doctor looked a lot like Asher.
“Melanie...?”
She blinked and her heart skipped a beat. And sounded a lot like Asher.
“Melanie?” he said again, walking forward until he was right in front of her. “Is it really you?”
It wasn’t the drugs. Her heart went into overdrive. “Asher? My Hawaii Asher?”
He grimaced. “One and the same. Unless there were two Asher’s from Hawaii.”
“No, there was just you.” And there’d only been him since she’d left the island.
“And now you’ve showed up in my hospital.”
His hospital? Did he work here permanently? She’d kind of assumed it was just a fluke, that he was maybe doing some travel doctor thing. Did they do that?
She lifted her arm and said lamely, “I hurt my wrist.”
“Yes, I see that in the notes. Why am I not surprised?” He smiled then, looking like it was Christmas morning and his present was the biggest one under the tree.
He couldn’t actually be happy to see her, could he? After what he’d heard, and the way she’d stood him up that morning?
“I can’t believe you’re here,” he said softly, coming to stand in front of her at the examination table.
“I can’t believe
you’re
here.”
Asher’s smile faded and his gaze searched hers. “Why did you leave? Without even saying goodbye? I told you I was going to drive you that morning.”
Melanie dropped her glance. What could she say? Tell him she’d fallen for him in two days and had freaked out about it?
“So it was true.” His tone changed. “It really was just a summer fling. Once you’d had your fun, you didn’t want to linger—”
“
No
. Not really. It started that way, but—” She broke off.
She should just lie. Find a way to compact this situation into a clean, not too awkward finish. She
should
. But she couldn’t. The sheer fact that she’d run into him again—in a small town in Oregon—made her decide to come clean.
“I realized I was falling for you.” The weight lifted from her chest at the confession. “Too fast for it to have been just sex. I imagined what our babies would look like, Asher. If you wanna know the epic level of crazy I hit.” She drew in a ragged breath. “And that’s a lot of pressure to put on someone you’ve known for only a couple days.”
His expression changed, the wariness disappeared into—what the hell?—amusement. “I wish you had told me.”
“Why? Then I would have had the charm of going through this awkward moment back then.” She laughed, trying and failing to sound casual. “And back then I wouldn’t have handled your rejection as well. I was already confused and emotional.”
“I wouldn’t have rejected you, Melanie.” He caught her hand and lifted it, kissing her knuckles. “I was pretty much in the same boat. Do you think it’s a coincidence that I ended up working near Portland?”
Melanie swallowed hard. The crack of hope in her heart, that had appeared when realizing he was here, widened. “What do you mean? Are you saying that you...?”
“Took a job anywhere in Oregon that had an opening, because part of me hoped I could find you again.”
“That’s about as crazy as me imagining babies,” she whispered.
“Yeah it is. And you’re the first person I’ve admitted my motivation for moving here to.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I’m completely serious.” He cupped her face and brushed a kiss over her lips, making her give a shuddering sigh.
This wasn’t a dream. This was really happening? Asher was here. Had moved here to find her. And was kissing here now.
“Since I’m still at work, we should probably talk about that wrist.” He kissed her again, his tongue sliding deep to stroke over hers.
“What wrist? I don’t even feel it. Don’t you dare stop kissing me.” Her mind was going all fuzzy with the pleasure and excitement. “It’s probably just another sprain anyway.”
He bit her bottom lip. “No, this time you actually have a minor fracture.”
“What?
Really
?”
“Mmm,” he confirmed, and sucked briefly on her bottom lip. “You seem a bit on the accident prone side, Melanie. I’m going to keep my eyes on you from now on out.”
Her pulse went into overdrive. “Now on out? That sounds kind of serious.”
“I’m very serious about you, sweetheart.” He eased a hand into her fleece sweatshirt and cupped her breast. “What are you doing with the rest of your weekend?”
“Oh, I hadn’t really thought—”
“Wrong answer.” He kissed her again.
She kissed him back, and when he finally lifted his head, she whispered, “Spending it with you?”
“Good girl. And the next weekend?”
“Spending it with y—”
He kissed her again, barely giving her a chance to breathe. He lifted his mouth, pressing his forehead against hers.
“I’m hereby claiming any free time you have that you’ll give me, sweetheart.” He released a shuddering breath and then grimaced. “I’m not off work for four more hours, but I’m really hoping you’ll be available to come to my place. We have four months to catch up on.”
Tears of happiness and wonder pricked at her eyes now. “Just give me an address and I’ll be there.”
“I may not let you leave.”
“I may not want to.”
He lifted his head and stared down at her, his warning soft. “This isn’t just sex, Melanie.”
Maybe it was a promise.
“No,” she admitted softly and touched his cheek. “It never was.”
There was a flicker of relief in his eyes, followed by a hot need.
“Fuck it,” he muttered, “It’s a slow day. I’m just going to keep on kissing you until the nurses come looking for me.”
When his mouth claimed hers and they fell back onto the examination table, all thoughts of her wrist and discovery vanished. All that mattered was this moment and being in the man’s arms who’d claimed her heart.
The End
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Here’s an excerpt from Good Girl Gone Plaid
She blinked and wet her lips. “W-what?”
“You heard exactly what I said.” His gaze honed in on her mouth and his eyes darkened. “A kiss. It’s not that complicated.”
Oh, it was definitely that complicated. “Not a chance.”
“Why?”
“Are you high? Because we’ve got a history—a pretty complex one where I made it clear I wanted nothing to do with you. And beyond that, I’m not for sale, dammit.”
Ian laughed. The sound so deep and sexy, she hated the way it heated her blood. “I’m not asking you to suck me off. Though I sure as hell wouldn’t protest if you tried. It’s just a kiss.”
The imagery. Oh, God, the imagery those words created. She shoved it aside, and sputtered, “You’re disgusting. You kiss your mother with those lips?”
“Not since she moved back to Scotland with Da. And the only kissing I’d like to focus on is between you and I.”
“It’s not going to happen.” When she stepped back, he followed her. A deliberate dance of seduction. Of intimidation.
“It will happen, Sarah, because I want it to and I’m certain you do too.”
“Arrogant much?” Her mouth went dry. “I was done with you the day I moved to
Japan.” Okay, that was a lie. She’d never forgotten him—it would be impossible to. And each suggestive little sentence he uttered was turning her body to liquid heat. Which pretty much made her think she needed to have her head examined. Any normal woman would’ve reacted by slapping that smug smile off his face.
“And that’s just the thing, doll. I wasn’t done with you.” His head dipped. “Not even close.”
And before she could fire back a response, not that she had one after his explosive admission, he muttered, “I’m collecting my payment.”
His mouth claimed hers.
Instinct demanded she fight him—push him away, but her mind reasoned that she could fight him another way. By not responding. By not giving him any indication that she still harbored any emotion except disdain to him.
But his kiss wasn’t hard—wasn’t aggressive. It was slow and sensual. Gentle even.
His mouth brushed over hers in a soft caress, again and again, before his tongue teased the seam of her pressed lips.
His shocking change of tactic tore down any walls she’d maneuvered between them. Emotions she’d thought long dormant stirred deep within her. Physical needs she hadn’t realized she could experience anymore came to the surface.
The combination of the two was a bit terrifying.
She wasn’t a twenty-eight-year-old woman anymore, but a seventeen-year-old with a stomach full of butterflies again.
The urge to part her lips, to kiss him back struck her with a ferocity that made her lightheaded.
She slid her hands up his chest, clinging to his shirt to keep herself upright. Though there was no real danger of falling, not with the way he’d backed her up against the door.
Ian lifted his head a tiny bit. “You always were so damn sweet. Open your mouth for me, Sarah. I’ve got to taste you.”
She shook her head. “Do you want me to stop?”
Again, she shook her head, couldn’t manage any reply except a small whimper. He used it. Once more his mouth took hers and his tongue slid past her parted lips. The moment his tongue touched hers the fight left her.
Just one more time, she bargained with herself. One more time to remember how good they’d once been.
Shelli is a New York Times Bestselling Author who read her first romance novel when she snatched it off her mother’s bookshelf at the age of eleven. One taste and she was forever hooked. It wasn’t until many years later that she decided to pursue writing stories of her own. By then she acknowledged the voices in her head didn’t make her crazy, they made her a writer.
Shelli currently lives in the Pacific Northwest with her daughter where she writes various genres of romance. She’s a compulsive volunteer, and has been known to spontaneously burst into song.
Sign up for Shelli’s newsletter, and see what other books she has available at
www.shellistevens.com
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