by Kendall Ryan
“Shit. Sorry about that.” I turned, pulling my feet up onto the ottoman, then yanked my blanket a little closer to my chin.
“You are not,” Trent muttered. “You know Sunday is rugby in the park. How the hell are we supposed to win a game without our star player? Today was Medical versus Surgical, you piece of shit. You think the surgeons are going to let us live this down? Ever?”
I winced, knowing he was right. Fucking surgeons, cocky pricks. Fact was, they shouldn’t even have been playing rugby considering how precious they were about their delicate hands, but that didn’t seem to stop them.
“Look,” I said, feeling slightly bad for the first time since he’d basically broken into my place, “I’m kind of going through something right now. It’s an emergency and—”
“Not being able to find the contact info for your one-night stand does not constitute an emergency, no matter how many times you try to frame it that way, Mason.”
“One man’s burden is another man’s gift. Tomato, tomahto. No crying over spilled milk.” I ran out of bad, inapplicable sayings and straightened up on the couch. Trent snagged the remote from my hand and muted the episode of Treehouse Masters I’d been watching.
“Still no luck, huh?” Trent asked, a little less harshly this time—though still not by much.
“Nope,” I muttered, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I checked every dating site I could think of. She wasn’t on any of them. I even looked on Tinder. Nothing. In fact, no one with the name Bren at all.”
“Hey, here’s an idea.” His lips twisted into something resembling an encouraging smile. “Just go on a date with someone from Tinder and forget about it. It’s been a week, dude. Let it go.” Trent crossed his arms over his chest, and I reached for the bowl of lukewarm soup in front of me.
“You don’t get it, do you?”
“That you discovered the holy grail of pussy? The pussy to rule them all? The fucking one pussy that obliterates all the rest of the pussy?” Trent snorted. “I get it, I just don’t buy it.” He shoved a hand through his thick, dark hair. “There are plenty of girls out there. I could even set you up with one of Kayla’s sisters if you would just—”
“No, I’m going to find this girl.” I clenched my fists, then blew out a ragged sigh. “It’s just going to take a little more work than I expected.”
I already knew I was spinning my wheels in vain trying to explain her to a guy like Trent. For him, every woman he dated was the same—a chance to get laid and, if he was lucky, have a good time before, during, and for a little while after. Maybe.
For me? It wasn’t so easy.
Don’t get me wrong. I could have just about any woman I wanted. That wasn’t a cocky thing, either. It was just…well, the truth. Ever since I’d been old enough to know how sex worked, I’d been able to find willing partners, but for me relationships were about more than just a quick roll in the hay. Becoming a doctor hadn’t hurt the situation, and loving women on the whole didn’t hurt me any either.
And still, I wanted something more. Now that I was getting older…
Well, that something more seemed to be getting more and more important all the time. This girl had blown my fucking mind in the best possible way. She’d been gorgeous, of course. But she’d been funny, and smart, and unexpected. I’d gone to sleep totally satisfied and stoked to tell her exactly that in the morning, only to find she’d ghosted.
Gone, without a word or a note, even.
Trent slapped his knees and pushed himself from the couch before making his way to my fridge and pulling out a bottle of water. He twisted the cap off, took a slug, then eyed me over the bottle. “Okay, fine. I give. What’s so special about this one, besides the steel trap of a pussy, that is?”
I cocked my head. “That’s the thing. I can’t put my finger on it. I mean, the sex was…”
There were no words for the sex.
From the moment I’d first kissed her, I’d been completely absorbed, lit with the need for more—to touch her, smell her, and breathe her in. It was more than chemistry—it was sheer animal connection, and I knew, even from that first, innocent kiss, that she could feel it too. Our connection was unlike anything I’d ever felt.
“It couldn’t have been that good if she snuck out of here while you were still asleep. You’d think she’d want round two, right?” Trent shrugged. “Face it, maybe she’s just not that into you.”
“See, this is what you’re not getting. She was into me. She was perfect.” I shook my head.
Of course, I didn’t blame Trent for not understanding. Odds were that he’d never been with a woman who looked at him the way Bren had looked at me on our date—like every word I said mattered to her. Like I mattered to her. In a way, it reminded me of the way my mother spoke to and looked at my father—like nothing in the world was more important than that other person.
And that connection had been only the starting point. It stretched even further when I’d kissed her, like the push and pull between our bodies was one we’d done a million times before but was still exciting and new. She’d shivered when I touched her, and when I turned her around to unzip her dress…
“Exactly. She was perfect. That’s why she wasn’t interested in you.” Trent grinned and I chucked a pillow at his stupid face.
“But seriously, dude,” he pressed on. “What are you going to do, just wait for her to knock on your door? You’ve already looked everywhere. It’s time to give it a rest and try again. There are plenty of fish in the sea. And seriously, I’ve never seen you like this and you’re starting to freak me out.”
He rejoined me on the couch and I glanced at the TV for a second, thinking over his words.
It was true. When it came to women, I had…well…a history would probably be the most polite way to put it. But that wasn’t technically my fault either.
I was raised with one belief, taught to me by my parents and reinforced by their actions toward each other—when you found the right person, you knew. With that one right person, all the trials and tribulations of life became easier.
And me? I wasn’t going to stop until I’d found Mrs. Right.
So, I’d experimented. A lot.
“If you’d had sex like this with a woman like this, you would be acting the same way,” I said, fully confident in my words.
“At this point I’m starting to think her vagina was made of solid gold,” Trent said. “What did she do? Blow bubbles out the damn thing?”
I laughed. “It was good, man. Best sex of my life. Hot and intense, and that fucking mouth—”
“Right. Well, special as it sounds, it’s time to move on. Got it?” Trent took another sip of his water and I nodded, though it was purely in the interest of placating him.
In truth, I didn’t think there was a damn thing in the world that could make me stop looking for the mysterious Bren.
Even now, a week after the fact, my mind’s favorite place to wander was the memory of her perfect, cherry-tipped tits and her smooth, pale skin. Her silky blond hair between my fingers. Her responsive, writhing body.
And, of course, the taste of her pussy as I’d laved my tongue over her straining clit.
At this point, even her name was enough to get me hard as a rock. But it wasn’t enough—none of it was.
Because I was going to find Bren.
And when I did?
I was sure as shit going to make her mine.
Chapter Two
Bren
I’d done it. I felt like high-fiving myself.
Whistling the tune of “Baby Got Back” as I washed flecks of poo down the drain, nothing could dampen my mood.
I’d had a one-night stand—a damn good one, in fact—and like a mature, responsible woman, I’d kept the no-strings promise I’d made to myself. Booyah. Smiling again, I felt proud of myself. And satisfied in a way I hadn’t been in a long time.
It was only normal that my mind had wandered to Mason a few times throughout each day
over the past two weeks. It was the only sexual experience I’d had in what felt like a decade, and so it was natural that I’d want to replay it—my own personal highlight reel, something to remember fondly and enjoy when I was in bed, alone at night.
“Why are you in such a good mood?” Mandy asked, peeking into the gorilla’s night house.
Hosing down one last oversized log, I turned and shut off the water. “Hey, lady. How was vacation?”
Mandy was five-foot-nothing of pure sass and sarcasm. I loved her. She was technically my boss, but it never felt that way. I was grateful for her friendship and all the guidance she’d given me both at work and in my personal life.
Mandy smirked and me and shook her head. “I’ll tell you all about our trip in a minute. When you bring two toddlers on a plane, it’s not a vacation—it’s a trip. But first, you’re going to tell me why you seem positively enthralled to be cleaning up shit. Isn’t Andy here today?”
“Yeah, I told him to go have his lunch. I’ve got this.”
Her eyes widened. “The hell you say? Let’s go catch up inside. You can fill me in on what happened while I was gone.”
After coiling the hose and putting it away, I followed Mandy inside. The gorillas weren’t due back inside their enclosure until this afternoon, but I was happy to be done with that task early.
I shucked off my rain boots, leaning for a moment to steady myself on the wall. Whoa. A wave of nausea washed over me, and I sucked a deep, cleansing breath into my lungs. That was the third time today that had happened.
Shaking my head, I followed Mandy toward the workstations, and after washing my hands at the sink, I sat down on the stool next to her.
“Now, spill it, Bren,” she said, grinning at me like she knew something I did.
“Fine.” I shrugged. “I took your advice. Are you happy?”
She pumped her fist in the air. “You got laid! I’m so proud. Give me all the squishy details. And leave nothing out. Todd barely has the energy for sex anymore, and when he does, I have to be in the mood to deal with his beer belly.”
I inwardly shuddered. The idea of holy matrimony had never interested me, and Mandy sure as shit wasn’t selling it. Honestly, I didn’t want to fall in love. It just didn’t appeal to me. I saw all the negatives and none of the positives. Being single with a great career as a zoologist was more than enough for me. It didn’t take years of therapy for me to figure that my dad passing away when I was young and my mom falling into a deep depression had shaped that view. But, hey, I got lonely sometimes and a girl had needs. Hence my magical one-nighter.
“I was thinking about what you said—about needing to put myself out there more. I considered online dating.”
Mandy grinned. “But?”
“Filling out that long profile and answering hundreds of random questions was so daunting, and I didn’t like the idea of putting all my personal info on the Internet. It just didn’t seem necessary to exchange names with someone I merely wanted to exchange bodily fluids with.”
Mandy patted her heart. “Sometimes you make the feminist inside me very proud.”
I rolled my eyes. “So I figured before I went that route, I wanted to try things the old-fashioned way first. I got dressed up cute and went to a bar I never normally go to—you know, one of those young, hip, way too crowded places?”
She nodded, totally absorbed in the story. “A meat market is the technical term, yes.”
“I sat alone at the bar, sipped my drink, and made eye contact with a couple of cute guys around the room. A few minutes later one of them came up to talk to me.”
Her eyebrows wiggled. “And bow-chicka-wow-wow?”
I laughed. “Not exactly. He was cute, but he didn’t get my blood pumping. After I made an excuse about needing to go to the restroom, I spotted the most gorgeous man I’d ever laid eyes on sitting alone in a booth in the corner. He looked so unhappy, and I thought that was so odd—like the two of us were the only ones in the entire club who were just enduring this scene rather than partying it up like everyone around us seemed to be.”
“Hmm.” She nodded thoughtfully. “Then what happened?”
I closed my eyes for a moment, and it was almost as if I was right back inside that club, the bass of the music pulsing through my veins, the handsome stranger’s electric blue eyes locking on mine from across the crowded room—the hair on the back of my neck standing up when I realized he was even more attractive than I’d first realized—and then ducking my chin to scurry away—sure that no man in his class would ever been interested in me.
“A few minutes later, when I came out of the restroom, I was ready to call it a failed mission and head home. But Mr. Tall, Dark, and Sexy was waiting for me.”
As a delicious shiver traveled up my spine, I recalled the way he’d towered over me, even in my wedges, and the commanding edge to his voice when he asked if I’d like to get a drink with him. I’d merely nodded, my voice trapped beneath the weight of my libido.
“He led me to his private booth in the back, where we ordered another drink and talked.”
Mandy frowned. “If this story doesn’t end with you taking it up the honeypot, I’m out.”
I laughed at the unusual euphemism. “I’ll speed things up for you.” Mandy didn’t need to know about the way the conversation had flowed so easily that night, or the current of raw sexual tension snapping between us with every barb we exchanged.
“A little while later he asked if I’d be interested in going someplace quieter, where we could talk. He suggested his place, and off we went. His apartment was gorgeous—one of those glittery sky-rise places that towers above the city.”
“I’m jealous—did this hunk have a name?”
“Mason.” Just the feel of his name on my tongue provoked a response in my body I wasn’t ready for.
“Then what happened? Don’t spoil the fantasy and tell me his meat-stick didn’t measure up. There’s nothing worse than a tiny wiener, am I right?”
“It was an absolutely amazing night. Perfect in every way.”
“Sweet baby Jesus… You’ve got to give me more than that!”
I shook my head. “I am not telling my boss every gritty detail of the best sex of my life.” Only because if I remembered it with that much clarity right now, I’d soak my panties while at work. No bueno.
“Damn, girl. I’ve got to give it to you.” Mandy reached her fist out to bump mine. “I’m all proud and shit.” She faked a choked-up voice and had me laughing again. “Now I see why you’ve been in such a good mood.”
It was crazy what good sex and a couple of orgasms could do for the soul. It was two weeks later, and I was still positively glowing.
Mandy and I worked in silence for a few minutes, her happily clicking away on the keyboard as she replied to a couple of emails, and me completing the log to note the time I’d done the interior pen cleanup earlier.
That nauseous pit was back, lurking in the center of my belly.
“That’s weird,” I muttered to myself.
“What?”
I shook my head. “I’m sure it’s nothing, but…” I paused, my eyes fixating on the calendar in front of me as a cold panic crept down my spine. “No, it’s nothing. Couldn’t be.”
“What’s nothing?” Mandy pressed again.
“I just, I’ve been having these waves of nausea for the past couple of days.”
“Are you sick?”
“No. I feel fine during the day—for the most part. It’s usually just first thing in the morning when I get out of bed and then a couple of random times throughout the day. It’s probably a low blood sugar thing.”
Mandy looked skeptical. “Bren. I don’t mean to scare you, but those were my exact symptoms during my first pregnancy. You and this mystery man used protection, right?”
“Of course. We used a condom.”
“But your cycle’s late, isn’t it?”
I guess my wide-eyed glance at the little desk calendar h
ad been sort of obvious. I nodded. “By a couple of days. No big deal.” But it felt like a huge fucking deal. I could not be pregnant—not by some one-night stand suave player who picked random girls up at the bar. No, no, no. That only happens in bad rom coms. My hands went clammy and I started to sweat. As the world spun around me, I considered the implications of having my perfect life imploded by an unplanned pregnancy.
Mandy licked her lips. “Listen. I don’t mean to freak you out, but maybe you should go in to the doctor—get checked out. Condoms break all the time. It’s possible you could be pregnant.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing. I can pick up one of those over-the-counter tests on my way home tonight if it makes you feel any better.”
Mandy shook her head. “Those tests aren’t reliable so early in pregnancy. Let me call my guy. Seriously, I have the best gynecologist in the entire city. I freaking love the guy. He normally has a six-month wait list for taking new clients, but a friend got me in, and maybe I can do the same for you.”
“What’s so great about the guy?” Call me crazy, but I had a hard time believing one could actually have an enjoyable experience at the gyno’s office. I barely tolerated my annual visits. That cold metallic feeling of the speculum, and that awful K-Y Jelly. Ugh. No thank you.
Mandy’s gaze softened and she got this faraway look in her eye. “He’s smart, sweet, and professional, and he just has this way about him that makes you feel comfortable. Everyone loves him. And his office feels more like a spa than a clinic. Low lightning, soft music, plush cotton robes instead of those horrible paper napkins they used to make me wear at my old doctor’s office. They have a freaking cappuccino bar in the waiting room. You’ll love it, I promise.”
“It does sound nice.” I chewed on my thumbnail. “And it would be nice to know, I guess, what’s causing this nausea.”
Mandy nodded and grabbed her cell phone from her back pocket. “Let me see if I can get you in next week. No promises.”
I waited anxiously while she dialed and spoke to the receptionist. She spelled my name and then waited on hold for a few seconds. Mandy’s eyes widened as she checked the clock. “Yup! She sure can. Thank you so much!”
