Wrong Number, Right Guy

by Tara Wylde

  He looks up, his eyes roaming over my body. He must like what he sees, because he shifts sideways in silent invitation.

  I hurry to sit in the space he’s left for me, not wanting to give him any time to change his mind.

  I expect him to ignore me and keep reading, but he doesn’t. Instead he once again uses his finger to mark his place and shifts on the bench so he can watch me. “Jason,” he says.

  I follow his first name only example. “Ella.”

  “Here on spring break?”

  “Sort of,” I say, wincing at how lame I sound to my own ears. “I’m actually here for a computer conference. I think they chose the time and location with the hope of not making students have to decide between spring break and the conference.”

  A stunned look creeps across Jason’s face. “You’re shitting me,” he exclaims. “Are you talking about that conference down at the Bristol Hotel, on Penn Street?”

  “Yeah,” I reply, startled. “MIT sent me and some of my friends here to man a booth for them. Were you there?”

  “I swung by there a few times. There were some seminars I was interested in. I go to the University of Tennessee, majoring in computer sciences.”

  “Cool.”

  We spend hours on that bench, talking about everything, the classes we are taking, friends, career plans. It’s the first time I’ve ever encountered a person I clicked with from the first word.

  Eventually we move off the bench and walk down the beach, continuing to swap stories and ideas as we admire the way the moonlight sparkles on the dark water.

  “Oh,” I squeal, “look.”

  Jason follows the direction I’m pointing until he spots a small pod of dolphins, about fifty feet off the shore, frolicking in the waves.

  “Gorgeous.” He breathes the word. I turn to smile at him and find that he’s much closer than I thought. And he’s no longer looking out at the ocean, but rather at me. Mesmerized by the look in his eyes, I sway even closer. He bends his head and covers my lips with his own in a kiss that is soft as silk and makes my toes curl and my skin sing.

  Breathless, we fall apart and stare into each other’s eyes, trying to work out what just happened.

  Jason reaches for my hand. Our fingers tangle together. “Come on,” he says, his voice sounding a little strained. He nods towards the ocean, where the dolphins continue to play in the moonlight. “I know just the place to watch the show.”

  The place turned out to be an empty lifeguard station. Jason and I climbed up into it and rather than turning to each other and watching the dolphins, we fell into each other’s arms, stroking and kissing one another while gradually shedding one piece of clothing after another.

  The memories are just as vivid, just as scorching today as they were seven years ago when Jason Monroe, future software designer and billionaire, divested me of my virginity and gave me a daughter, a daughter he knows nothing about.

  Memories of what his hands, of what his tongue did to my body continue to crash into me until my skin is flushed and feels too tight. Pressure builds between my legs. I never should have taken this trip down memory lane.

  My body remembers, probably even better than my mind does, the way his fingers brushed against the sides of my breasts as he freed them from my bikini top, How he used his tongue to eased the sore spots where the straps had dug into my skin. How he smelled as he gently laid me down on the sand-coated floor of the lifeguard station and his hands glided slower, slipping over my bare stomach, unzipped my shorts, and touched me in ways I’d never imagined being touched before.

  Fire explodes in my veins. This little trip down memory lane was a big mistake.

  Knowing there’s only one thing I can do to calm my raging body and finally get the rest I desperately need, I dig into my nightstand drawer and shove aside a variety of items until my fingers close around what I’m seeking. It’s located way in the back the drawer where I keep it so that Kelsey doesn’t accidently find it.

  I press the button on the side the vibrator and it springs to life, the buzz against my hand sending a jolt through my entire body. I part my thighs and angle myself so I can see Jason as I seek the sweet release my body has been demanding ever since I heard Jason whispering my name across a phone line.

  6

  Jason

  As a car purchased to celebrate earning my first million for a complicated bit of security software I designed, the Porsche Carrera Cabriolet I bought three years ago is perfect.

  As a stake-out vehicle parked in front of a bland office building in one of Chicago’s low-income districts, it left a lot to be desired. I can barely see the building’s front entrance for all the people who kept rubber necking as they walked past. And here I’d thought I’d been lucky to find a parking space directly in front of the building.

  The slow drizzling rain patters against the roof as I take another sip of lukewarm coffee. I’ve lost track of how long I’ve been sitting here. Long enough to have had to turn on the car a few times in order to blast the heater and to now be regretting the multiple cups of coffee I’ve sucked down since parking here.

  I spent the better part of the night using my own hacking skills, which aren’t all that impressive, and a few well-placed contacts running a reverse search on the encrypted phone number. A few hours ago I finally received this address. I jumped straight into my car and hurried over.

  I still can’t believe that after spending several years looking for her, not only has Ella contacted me—granted it hadn’t been intentional, but I don’t care—but we even live in the same city! It’s like fate is doing everything in its power to throw us together—and I’ve never been one to argue with fate. Just like last time.

  I just wish things had happened sooner. So much time has passed since the last time I saw Ella. So many missed opportunities.

  As I watch people trudge through the sleety rain as they go about their day, searching for a face from my past, old, cherished memories bubble to the surface of my mind. Knowing the futility of fighting them, I let them overtake me until I’m no longer sitting in my car, but rather in a rickety old lifeguard stand.

  The warm Florida air washes over me as I lean against the wall, squinting against a sunrise that’s not nearly as stunning as the woman I’m with.

  I watch as she wiggles into her cut-off shorts before reaching for her electric blue bikini top.

  “Do you have to go?” I murmur. “I found this place. It doesn’t look like much from the outside, but the cook makes a great omelet. My treat.”

  She smiles at me and hooks the bikini in place. “It sounds wonderful, but I can’t.” She drops to her knees and starts groping around the floor, feeling for something. “My girlfriends and I are heading back to MIT today. We plan to be on the road in a couple of hours.”

  I reach for her, running my fingers up her arm and thrilling at how the slight touch makes her shiver. “Two hours is plenty of time for breakfast, and—” I gesture to my lap and my already hardening dick, “—you know.”

  She slants me a look. Even in the dim dawn light, I can see the way her eyes sparkle. “Yeah, I know. But you’re wrong. It’s not enough time. I haven’t even begun to pack. If I leave now, I should have just enough time to sneak into our room before they realize I stayed out all night.”

  I quirk a brow. “They won’t approve?”

  “Oh, they won’t care. If anything, they’ll be happy for me,” Ella explains. She finds one of her flip-flops on the opposite side of the lifeguard station and slips it on her foot. “But they’ll be surprised. And if I’m not there when they wake up, they’ll worry. This – last night – it’s completely unlike me. For me, I mean. The last thing I need is for them to call the police and report me missing.”

  Despite the disappointment over her rejecting my breakfast invitation, the idea that I inspired her to do something so out of character pleases me.

  Ella locates her other flip-flop and yanks it out from under my ass. I hadn’t even
realized I’d been sitting on it. She puts it on and jumps to her feet. “I’ve got to go.”

  Not caring that I’m as naked as the day I was born, I follow her out of the lifeguard station. She turns to face me.

  I can’t tell if it’s the reflection of the sunrise or an honest to goodness blush, but her face is a lovely shade of rose pink as she tips it up toward me. The warm morning breeze plays with her long, blonde hair.

  “Thank you,” she whispers, sounding way too shy for a girl who trusted me enough to spend an entire night tangled up in my arms.

  “For what?”

  She stands on tiptoe and kisses me. She skips out of my reach before I can deepen the kiss. “For making my first time”—Her eyes dance as her smile develops a naughty edge—“and my second, truly wonderful.”

  She turns, but before she can dart down the beach, I catch hold of her wrist.

  “Wait a second.” She turns to face me. “Aren’t you going to give me your number or some other way that I can reach you?”

  The humor fades from her face and she bites her lip while contemplating the question. Several heart beats pass before she shakes her head. “No.”

  “No?”

  “No,” she repeats.

  “Why not?” I demand.

  “My time with you has been so special. I don’t want to ruin it.”

  “How does me getting in touch with you ruin anything?”

  “Right now, what we’ve had together was, no is, perfect. A fairytale,” she explains. “But fairytales can’t last. Eventually reality creeps in and ruins everything. Wouldn’t you rather have one perfect memory than a whole bunch that over shadow it?”

  “But maybe we’ll be different.” Desperation raises my voice a full octave. “Maybe this was the start of something that stays wonderful forever.”

  “Maybe,” Ella concedes, “but the odds of that happening are so slim. And I’ve worked too hard to make something of myself, to create the foundation for the career I’ve always wanted, to even think about doing anything that might distract me. I think the same is probably true of you too.”

  She rotates her wrist, pulling it free of my grip. “Maybe, in a few years. Once our professional lives have settled into a nice rhythm, we’ll meet again and then we can see what happens.”

  Before I can think of a response, she turns and runs down the beach, away from me and out of my life. Leaving me confused and with a splintered heart.

  A flash of bright blonde hair catches my eye and for the first time in seven years, I’m staring at Ella.

  She’s walking quickly, head down, one hand lifted, her gloved fingers curled around the front of the wide strap of the laptop bag hanging from her left shoulder. Her other hand is shoved into the pocket of the dark green parka she’s wearing. She has the same long, purposeful gait I remember. She’s walking with her head down, either because she’s lost in deep thoughts or because she doesn’t want to talk to any of the other people sharing the wide sidewalk with her.

  I’m barely aware of pushing the Carrera’s door open and trotting across the road. I’m lucky I don’t get hit ‘cause I don’t bother taking the time to look for oncoming traffic. Every single iota of my being is focused on Ella.

  Finally, after year of looking high and low, I’ve found her.

  I’ve imagined this moment at least a million times. In my mind, the places have frequently changed. Sometimes I picture our big reunion taking place in the bar where we first met. At other times, the lifeguard station where we made love. Sometimes I picture her tracking me down and coming to my house.

  While the locations vary, the results never do. Each time I hypothesized about our reunion, I knew our eyes would meet, the old chemistry and emotions would reboot, and we’d fall into each other’s arms and vow to never part again.

  There’s no way in hell that I’m going to let her slip through my fingers this time.

  My pace quickens, breaking into a long-striding jog as I dart past a handful of people. My eyes never leave Ella. She still hasn’t looked up. Hasn’t seen me.

  I skid to a stop a foot or two from her.

  “Ella.”

  Her head snaps up. Based on the look on her face, she’s prepared to make some sort of cutting remark, but when her eyes lock with mine, her mouth falls open and the blood drains from her face.

  “Jason?”

  She looks different from the last time I saw her. Back then, she’d been a bright-eyed college senior, all dewy skin and smiles, hopeful about the future. Since then, she’s matured. Her face is leaner, her mouth fuller, and her cheekbones seem even higher. She’s matured into her features. The change looks good on her.

  Mesmerized by her Caribbean-blue eyes, I rock closer. “It’s been a long time.”

  Her tongue flicks out and moistens her lips. “Yeah, it has.” She untangles her gaze from mine and her eyes dart all over the street, taking in every single person within twenty feet of us. “What are you doing here?”

  Okay. Not quite how I imagined our reunion would go. I’ve always pictured her dropping everything and throwing herself into my arms while whispering how her life hasn’t been complete since we parted. Still, I can make this work.

  I flash my best crooked grin, the one that more than one lady has told me is completely irresistible. “Looks like fate has thrown us together. Again.”

  I don’t wait for her response. Instead, I close the space between us in one long stride. My hands settle on her hips and I lower my head, letting my brow rest against hers. I close my eyes, breathing in her sweet scent.

  I don’t know if it’s because we’re on a busy sidewalk, or because I’ve been dreaming of this moment for so long, but this simple touch feels more intimate than a hug. I savor the experience. It’s a memory I know I’ll want to relive over and over again.

  “It’s been a long time.”

  “Yeah, a long time,” she repeats.

  She leans into me.

  That’s all the encouragement I need.

  My right hand glides up her arm and brushes her warm neck before I use one finger under her jaw and lift her chin until her mouth meets mine.

  As soon as my lips touch hers, the strongest sense of homecoming and belonging sweeps through me. The kiss is better than every single fantasy I’ve ever had.

  Her lips are soft, warm and yielding beneath mine. Our tongues tangle together as the kiss deepens. My hands slide around to her ass, drawing her against the hardness of my own body, relishing the feel of her.

  The world around us is hurrying people, car exhaust fumes, drippy weather, and plain, rundown buildings, but all of that fades as Ella’s lips part beneath mine. My heart races and my blood warms as I deepen the kiss, staking my claim on her mouth. She tastes of coffee and peppermint.

  Our bodies weave and lean into one another, our clothing whispering as we shift and deepen the kiss.

  I’ve played back the memory of our first kiss more times than I can count. I’ve always assumed my imagination had turned it into something greater than it really was.

  I was wrong. That had been a great kiss, but this, this is so much better.

  For the first time in…probably my whole life, everything feels right in my world. And the only thing I need is Ella.

  She breaks the kiss and gasps for breath. Unwilling to break contact, I pull her close, gathering her to my chest, pressing her head against my heart, which feels like it’s running a marathon.

  I bow my head, burying my face in her sunshine yellow hair. “I’ve missed you,” I tell her.

  She trembles in my arms and I gather her closer.

  “I’ve missed you too.” She speaks so softly the words are almost lost in the wind.

  I feather a kiss against her ear. “Come home with me.” The street isn’t any place to talk, and I need to talk to her, to be with her, even more than I need to draw my next breath.

  She stiffens and pulls free of my embrace.

  Wild-eyed, she takes in our
surroundings while her hand comes up to clutch at her purse. “I… I can’t.”

  Startled by the sudden change in her, I reach out, wanting to pull her in close again, but she scrambles backwards, placing herself out of range.

  “I… I have to—” She looks at the plain brick building we’re in front of. “My shift… It’s starting soon. I really can’t afford to lose this job.” She half runs towards the front steps and I have no choice but to watch her go.

  “It was really nice seeing you again,” she calls over her shoulder just before she darts through the front door, leaving me standing alone on the sidewalk in the drizzle.

  7

  Ella

  How the hell did he manage to find me?

  The thought rattles round and round my brain while the ancient elevator wheezes its way up to the top floor. I was so surprised to hear his voice on the other end of the line last night that I hung up before launching into my customary phone spiel, which includes the name of the company.

  He must have run a reverse phone search, but since the call center I represent uses a system that creates dummy numbers so people have a difficult time blocking us, tracking down the origins of the late evening call should have taken several days, not just a few hours.

  And why did he bother?

  We had a one-night stand seven years ago. We were just two people who experienced an instant and intense attraction that morphed into lust. We’d enjoyed each other’s bodies before going our separate ways.

  There’d been consequences which I had—no, am—dealing with, but Jason was free to move on, to do whatever he wanted. Between his looks, enigmatic personality, and newfound fortune, the most beautiful women in the world must be throwing themselves at his feet.

  So why put any time and effort into tracking me down?