Awakening Anna

by Osburn, Terri

  Awakening Anna

  Terri Osburn

  Contents

  Also by Terri Osburn

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Letter from the Author

  About the Author

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  (Original version published in Small Town Summer anthology 2015)

  Copyright © 2019 by Terri Osburn

  Published by Macie Rae Publishing, Nashville, TN

  Cover Design Copyright © 2019 Bookin’ It Designs

  Created with Vellum

  Also by Terri Osburn

  Find them all on Amazon

  Shooting Stars Series

  Rising Star

  Falling Star

  Wishing On A Star

  Among The Stars

  Ardent Springs Series

  His First and Last

  Our Now and Forever

  My One and Only

  Her Hopes and Dreams

  The Last In Love

  Anchor Island Series

  Meant To Be

  Up To The Challenge

  Home To Stay

  More To Give

  Stand-Alone Works

  Ask Me To Stay

  Wrecked

  For Mary – Max is definitely all yours

  Chapter One

  “I liked it when he took her against the wall.”

  No one in the book group batted an eye at this declaration made by their oldest member, Verna Wolinski, least of all the group moderator, Anna. As head librarian, avid romance reader, and moderator of the Happy Hearts Book Club, Anna did her best to get the group talking about strong female characters and relationship development, but in the end, the topic inevitably returned to sex.

  Which Anna didn’t mind. Sex was great.

  In books.

  Romance novels were fantasy, after all. The heroine on the page was always naturally skilled in the bedroom and never received a single complaint. Whether against a wall, on her knees, or slicked up in the shower, she satisfied her hero and left him wanting more.

  Not the case for Anna.

  Nothing about sex came naturally for her. Instead of sexy and purring, Anna was awkward and silent. And based on her past encounters, men preferred the former over the latter.

  To cut to the chase, she’d only had two boyfriends—but lots of complaints.

  “If Fred were still alive,” Verna added with a smile, “I’d have tapped him on the shoulder and told him to pop one of those blue pills because it was going to be a good night.”

  The circle of ladies nodded agreement, several with a giggle, while Anna sighed. Maybe there was a pill she could take. A sex-kitten pill would be nice.

  “Thank you for sharing, Verna. That seems to be a popular one with the group. Does anyone else want to share their favorite reader moment?”

  Betsy Langford raised her hand. The tiny woman with wire-rimmed glasses perched on the end of her button nose almost never spoke up during their meetings. Anna wasn’t even sure if she read the books, thinking maybe she attended only for the company.

  “Yes, Betsy. What was your favorite?”

  Blue eyes darted around the circle before the quiet woman said, “When he went. . .” she hesitated, sending another shy glance at the others, “down there.”

  “I knew you had it in you, Bets,” said Verna, smacking her neighbor on the knee.

  Betsy blushed, while Deloris said, “As soon as these six weeks are up, that’s the first thing I’m having Jimmy do.” The new mother patted her month-old baby on the back as she spoke. “We’ve never gone this long without sex. I’m about to crack.”

  A quick calculation ran through Anna’s brain. She hadn’t had sex in. . . The number was too depressing to think about.

  “Just remember to use protection,” Gina said, “or you’ll end up right back where you are now in no time.” The tall brunette had three children under the age of five at home. That made Gina an expert on the subject of contraception and, presumably, sex, too.

  Just as the group nodded in unison again, the lights went out in the library.

  “What in the world?” Anna said, rising from her chair. “Nobody move. It must be that darn fuse again.” Though it was late afternoon outside, their small meeting room lacked any windows, throwing them into pitch darkness.

  The library fuse box was located in the back of the janitor’s closet, but finding it would require locating the small flashlight in her desk. To that end, Anna marched out of the tiny room and straight into the chest of a man. A very solid man who smelled like pine and something else Anna couldn’t quite place but was oddly familiar.

  “Excuse me,” she gasped. Strong hands clamped around her upper arms, keeping her upright.

  “Easy now,” he said. “I’ve got you.”

  She couldn’t see his face in the darkness, but as soon as she heard his voice, Anna knew who he was.

  Max Marshall, the hottest new hit in young adult literature, second only to John Green. His arrival in their small California town nearly six weeks ago had been the most exciting thing to happen in years. That he’d landed in the apartment above hers had certainly been a new twist for Anna.

  As a librarian, she was fascinated by authors. She’d read Max’s two bestsellers and become an instant fan. Meeting him in person had only increased her fascination. He was, as her sister would say, sex on a stick.

  Well over six feet tall, with thick hair the color of dark chocolate and eyes like brushed nickel, Max Marshall put most male models to shame. Strong jaw, patrician nose, and shoulders that made a woman’s mouth water combined into the perfect package of virile man.

  “My fault,” she said, stepping back reluctantly as the urge to stay close nearly won out. “I didn’t see you there.”

  “I’m not surprised,” he said with a deep chuckle. “I can’t see a damn thing.”

  “Whole town is out,” Verna exclaimed from behind her. Anna turned to see the older woman’s eyes illuminated in the glow of her phone screen. “My granddaughter says the heat wave has everything zapped.”

  “Here,” Gina said, handing Anna a lighter. “I swiped this from my husband’s nightstand this morning. I can’t make him stop smoking, but I can keep stealing the lighters until he gives in.”

  “Thanks,” Anna said, flicking the lighter to life. “I doubt the power will come back any time soon. I’ll lead the way to the exit, but be careful. I don’t want anyone getting hurt. Oh, and I’ll email you all with the name of our book for next month.”

  Before she took a single step, the flame burned her finger. “Ouch!” she cried.

  “Here,” Max said, taking the device from her hand. “Let me.”

  Without waiting for her agreement, he led the group to the front door, then held it open for each to pass. Sun filled the doorway, making the lighter no longer necessary. Verna brought up the rear and stopped next to Anna.

  “If you give page two hundred twenty-seven a try,” she whispered, “I want to hear all about it.”

  Heat danced up Anna’s neck to the tops of her ears.

  “What exactly is on page two hundred twenty-seven?” M
ax asked. His tone implied he’d already guessed.

  “I don’t remember. I’d have to look it up,” Anna lied as she stepped behind the information desk to grab her things. “You don’t need to stay.” She withdrew her purse and bag of books from a lower drawer. “There’s nothing to do but lock the doors and come back tomorrow.”

  “I’ll walk you home,” he said. “Seeing as we live in the same house. Technically speaking.”

  The house they shared—though thinking of it that way made their relationship sound more intimate than it was—stood two doors down from the library. They’d lived in close quarters for weeks now, but it wasn’t as if they’d become friends. They’d barely exchanged greetings, even though Max had become a regular at the library, presumably doing research for his book. Anna had helped him locate various sources along the shelves.

  Several had been medical references on cancer so she hoped they were for his fiction and not more personal reasons.

  Unable to think of a polite way to decline, she said, “If you’re walking that way...”

  “I am now,” he said with a grin that igniting a flame a different sort.

  Outside, Max waited for her to lock the doors, then took the book-filled tote off her shoulder. A wall of heat hit them full on, and Anna removed her white sweater for the short walk home, draping it over her purse.

  Every nerve ending in her body was aware of the man beside her. Every brush of his arm against hers sent tiny shocks through her system. The soaring temperature warmed her skin, but Max’s heat touched something deeper.

  “I’m not letting you off the hook,” he said, one eyebrow lifted high. “What are we trying from page two hundred twenty-seven?”

  “I. . .” she stammered, feeling the blush down to her toes. No way was she describing the scene in question. At least not to the man walking her home. They certainly would not be trying the act described in the book, and not only because Anna didn’t own a set of handcuffs.

  “Now I have to know,” he insisted. “Any scene that could put that look on your beautiful face must be good.”

  Her mind reeled at the compliment. Max thought she was beautiful. How was that even possible? She had to say something—but what?

  “Maybe I can coax you into telling me over dinner.” he said, not seeming to notice her flustered silence. “We could discuss the scene in detail. I’m always happy to learn from other writers.”

  “Dinner?” Anna asked.

  “I have steaks in my freezer that will go to waste with the power off,” he said smoothly. “We can use that grill you have on your porch.”

  Anna was so surprised that she didn’t answer right away. Then she remembered an important, and disappointing, detail. “I haven’t used the grill in a while, so I don’t have any charcoal.”

  “I have some,” he said.

  “Oh.”

  If she were thinking clearly, Anna would have wondered why a man without a grill owned a bag of charcoal. But in that moment, the idea of having dinner with Max consumed all of her working brain cells. In truth, the blood rushing to points south was probably to blame for her lack of cognitive thinking.

  “I'm not sure what I have to add to the meal,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

  She glanced over in time to see his grey eyes turn to silver as he said, “You're more than enough.”

  What? Was he flirting with her?

  Impossible.

  “You get ready,” Max said as Anna realized they’d reached home. “I'll grab the steaks and light the fire.”

  The fire was definitely already lit.

  Max’s eyes dipped for the faintest second before he flashed a pirate smile and disappeared around the side of the house to the stairs that led up to his apartment. No man had ever looked at her that way.

  As if he intended to do mind-melting things to her body.

  Anna’s eyes lowered to the keys in her hand, and she noticed the condition of her shirt. Sweat had turned the little white tank top completely transparent, revealing that she wasn’t wearing a bra. And her breasts had reacted quite obviously to the man who’d just walked away.

  The man who’d made it clear with that last look that she was on the menu tonight.

  This wasn’t good. Her breasts were making promises that Anna’s body could not fulfill. Which would be more humiliating—telling Max that she was terrible in bed, or letting him find out for himself?

  Chapter Two

  Anna was not the casual sex type. Heck, she'd barely had noncasual sex. Men—especially gorgeous, successful men—did not seduce your everyday, run-of-the-mill librarian.

  It just did not happen.

  Which meant the ridiculous notion that Max Marshall wanted to have sex with Anna was nothing more than a figment of her overactive imagination. A product of the erotic and very inappropriate dreams she’d been having about the man for several weeks now. Her brain had cast him in every fantasy she’d ever conjured up, and a few she’d never considered at all.

  In every one of them, she’d been the skilled lover any man would desire.

  But this wasn’t a dream, and Anna had yet to master the missionary position, let alone a reverse cowgirl—a term she only knew thanks to her younger sister.

  She and Max would share a meal, enjoy a sure-to-be invigorating conversation, and then she would send him back upstairs where he belonged.

  Decision made, Anna dropped her bags on the couch and strode to her bedroom, intent on changing into something more suitable. Something that would keep her breasts modestly hidden, as they should be. Rummaging in her drawer, she came across the white, lacy bra and panty set her sister had given her for her birthday.

  It couldn’t hurt to wear something pretty. It wasn’t as if Max would know what she wore beneath her dress, and the feminine pieces might give her enough confidence to get through the evening without embarrassing herself.

  Before she could decide whether to wear the lingerie or not, her cell phone went off in the living room. Anna nearly jumped out of her skin, and the swath of white lace went flying through the air.

  The Cardi B. song let her know the call was from her sister. The younger sibling had assigned herself the ringtone, and Anna never bothered to change it.

  “Hello, Lynnlee,” she said after swiping to answer.

  “Hey there, big sis, how's tricks at the library?”

  “Dark at the moment,” Anna replied. “Where are you?”

  “I was in class, but Professor Belding let us go when the lights went out. I thought I might stop over and help you eat whatever’s in your fridge.”

  Anna debated how much to tell her sister.

  I’m having dinner with my super-hot neighbor, who just happens to be six years younger than I am and somewhat famous. For a moment I was considering having mad, passionate sex with him, but I have returned to my senses.

  “I have someone coming for dinner already,” she said, keeping the details vague.

  Lynnlee jumped to the obvious conclusion. “That elderly woman who volunteers at the library?”

  At fifty-two, Sylvia was not elderly, but to twenty-one-year-old Lynnlee, everyone over thirty-five was ancient.

  “Actually, it's my neighbor.”

  Silence echoed down the line for several seconds before Lynnlee said, “No. Fucking. Way.”

  “Yes, way,” Anna said more sedately.

  “Max Marshall, the walking sex god, is coming into your apartment to have dinner? Please tell me you’re going to jump his bones.”

  Anna remembered Max’s parting smile, and her brain yelled Yes!

  To her sister, she said, “Don’t be ridiculous. I would never embarrass myself like that. We’re having dinner and that’s all.”

  “Anna, you can’t let this chance get away. What is he, like, twenty-five? That’s exactly what you need, a younger guy.”

  “I didn’t ask his age.” Max was twenty-six, actually. Not that she’d Googled him or anything.

  �
��I’ll never forgive you if you don’t do this,” Lynnlee said. “You’re hot. And he’s hot. Way hotter than those idiots you’ve dated before.”

  “They weren’t idiots.”

  “Those douche canoes couldn’t find a G-spot with a freaking road map. I have no doubt Max Marshall not only knows how to find it, he probably knows more about it than you do. Get that man naked, and let him prove that you are not defective.”

  Why had she ever confided her sexual shortcomings to her sister? The fact that Max was likely amazing in bed would only make Anna’s humiliation that much worse. If she were the woman she was in the dreams, this would be a no-brainer.

  But she wasn’t.

  Her insecurities won out with two simple words. “I can’t.”

  “You can!” Lynnlee shouted in her ear. “Listen to me. Light some candles. Put on that summer dress with the buttons down the front and leave it open enough to show off the girls. When dinner is over, whatever you do, do not let that man leave until you are thoroughly sexed in every way possible.”

  Who needed a sex-kitten pill when Anna had Lynnlee for a cheerleader?

  Maybe her sister was right. She’d certainly earned a bout of good sex. And her former partners were nowhere near as hot as Max.

  Did hot man mean hot in bed? That was an excellent question.

  Like…a research question. Librarians were supposed to do research all the time.

  Anna owed it to all of womanhood to find the answer.

  And Max had implied that he would be a willing research subject. Or so she rationalized.

  “I can’t believe I’m going to do this,” Anna said, running her hand through her hair. Anticipation weakened her knees as she made her way back to the bedroom. “If this goes badly, I’m blaming you.”