“Sounds pathetic, to be honest. I never realized you were such a loser.”
“Well, I am,” she said, managing a quick laugh before her swelling heart filled her throat. Her smile slipped away. It was much too hard to think clearly when he looked at her like that, all steady warmth. “So the next time you feel like I’m having too much fun without you, just remember that I’m either in the OR trying to patch some kid back together or sitting here wishing you were with me.”
He hesitated. Ran his hands over the top of his head, ruffling his hair.
“Melody—”
His phone vibrated. They both stiffened.
At that glum moment, Melody would have been happier to hear Jack from The Shining chopping through her front door with an ax.
He pulled his phone out and checked the display. “It’s Baptiste. He’s on his way.”
“I know,” she said.
To her everlasting dismay, she felt her chin wobble and discovered that she was perilously close to tears. She’d already cried once in front of him (the other day when one of her patients had suddenly died) and had no intention of doing it again. Ever, if she could help it.
The man was going home to London. They’d known this moment would come. No big deal whatsoever.
So she plastered a bright smile on her face and jumped up.
“Did you forget anything? I’d better make sure you grabbed all your stuff.”
She hurried into the bedroom, giving herself a swift mental kick in the ass along the way. What the hell had gotten into her? She met a new man and all of the sudden she carried on as though life was a Shakespearean tragedy every time he left her side? Was that where this was going?
No freaking way.
Her life did not depend on a man. Her happiness did not depend on a man.
She wouldn’t let it.
Tomorrow she would go back to work at the hospital like she always did. Normal life would resume. The birds would still sing in the trees and her curly hair would still refuse to behave. Her entire life had not changed because of this relationship.
Okay.
Focus, girl.
She did a lap around her ultra-neat bedroom with her usual brisk efficiency and noticed it right away: the telltale patch of red plaid under the edge of one of the white decorator pillows on the bed. Anthony’s flannel pajama bottoms. He’d be sad if he got back home and they weren’t in his overnight bag, wouldn’t he? She snatched them up and headed for the bathroom. And there was something else: Anthony’s toothbrush in her holder, along with his travel-sized bottle of funky British mouthwash and tube of toothpaste. She grabbed those, too.
Men.
And to think he’d claimed he’d packed. How was it “packing” when you forgot pretty much everything you’d brought with you? Was it a vision problem? Maybe she should hold up a couple fingers and ask him how many he saw—
Anthony appeared in the bathroom doorway, startling her.
She shook her head, disbelieving, and snorted out a laugh as she held the items up for him to see.
“You forgot half your stuff, you silly goose.”
But Anthony was evidently in no mood for teasing.
She watched the storm roll in and settle on his face, dimming the vivid cornflower blue of his eyes the way an afternoon rain throws Miami beaches into shadow.
His jaw tightened.
“Why are you getting rid of my things?”
Chapter 2
The sudden rough edge to his voice caught her by surprise. So did the look on his face, as though he planned to call the local authorities if she didn’t put his stuff back now. A negative electrical charge in the air made nerve endings tingle all up and down her arms and across her scalp.
She froze, baffled.
This whole situation demonstrated, in stark detail, the problem with sexing someone up first, then trying to build a relationship later. The sex, at least for her, kicked the intensity level up to eleven, but the parties involved still didn’t know each other well enough to understand whether the inevitable bumps in the road were normal or if they led to hidden sinkholes that could ruin everything.
“Why’re you looking at me like that?” she asked. “I’m not getting rid of your stuff. I’m making sure you pack it so you don’t miss it when you get home.”
His eyes flashed. “Why can’t my things stay where they were?”
She blinked, bewildered. “I didn’t realize you wanted them to.”
“Well, I do,” he said flatly.
She held her hands up. “My mistake.”
He grumbled something indistinct.
“What the hell is going on here?” she asked. “Why am I getting the feeling that your toothbrush is not the real issue?”
“Because you’ve completely missed the point.” He barked. “Some women want the man to leave something behind. Some women want the man to feel that there’s a place for him.”
“A thousand pardons.”
“Besides. You need the reminder.”
“Of what?” she said, still baffled.
“My pending return.”
The lingering belligerence in his tone didn’t sit well with her. Nor did the additional reference to the fact that she hadn’t kept the faith the last time he left town.
She crossed her arms, beginning to fume.
“Stop throwing that blind date in my face. And don’t bark at me. I’m not one of your soldiers. And you’re not General Patton pledging to return to the Philippines.”
A flicker of grudging respect crossed over his face. “It was General MacArthur.”
“Close enough.”
They watched each other, the silence turning wary until a light bulb went off over her head. She snapped her fingers as all the puzzle pieces fell into place.
“Hang on. I know what you’re doing. You’re picking a fight with me.”
His expression became guarded.
“Pardon me? Why on earth would I do that in my last ten seconds with you before I have to leave for the week?”
Look at his face! She was definitely on to something.
“It’s part of the separation process. It’s easier for people to let each other go and say good-bye if they’re angry with each other. I learned about this whole thing during med school.”
A dull flush climbed up his neck and resolved over his cheekbones. He cocked his head, squinting at her. “Are you analyzing me?”
Meeting his stony expression head-on shaved a year or two off her life. This man gave intimidating a whole new meaning, and she’d been yelled at and humiliated by some of the most fearsome professors Harvard Med had to offer.
Yet she wasn’t scared. Not at all. She was exhilarated.
“Am I wrong?”
His jaw began to flex in the back. Maybe that was why it took him so long to speak.
“I hope I haven’t reached quite that level of insanity and dependency over a woman I didn’t know existed two short weeks ago.”
The words hovered between them, lingering in the air like a blast from a skunk’s tail.
Worse? The veiled implication made her wince. It was all buried in those staccato syllables, something to the effect that she thought a bit too highly of herself, or maybe that she read way too much importance and/or permanency into any plans he may have for their relationship.
Whatever it was, it cut far too close to the bone of her sparse dating life and forgettable previous relationships with men. It made her want to duck her head and mumble an apology for letting her narcissistic side run wild.
Then she remembered: she didn’t have a narcissistic side.
He was picking an argument. No matter how he tried to dodge and deflect when confronted with the truth. This behavior was a known psychological phenomenon.
Funny thing, though. She still wanted to hit him.
Actually, she wanted a lot of things at the moment.
She wanted him to march his arrogant self out of her apartment and not let the door hi
t him in the ass on the way out. She also wanted him to stay here forever so she could employ more of her previously undetected intuitive skills and uncover all of his secrets.
Mostly she just wanted a reaction from Mr. Cool and Aloof.
“Tell you what,” she said with a sweeping gesture toward the bathroom door. “Why don’t you wait for Baptiste in the lobby? Have a great flight.”
Seething now, she took a determined step or two away from him.
He made a strangled noise behind her, the only clue that she might have hit a nerve.
Bingo.
She turned back, triumph surging through her as they glared at each other.
One glimpse of those flashing blue eyes revealed everything she could have hoped to know. Honestly, it was like looking into a funhouse mirror of her own emotions. A reflection of everything she felt about him.
She infuriated him.
She fascinated him.
She amused and unraveled him.
He didn’t want to leave her.
This thing between them terrified him.
What if it didn’t work out?
And, worse, what if it somehow did?
This was all too much, way too soon.
Yet he had no intention of backing away from any challenges she might present.
His expression turned determined as he looked her up and down. Hot. Possessive.
There was no mistaking his intent.
She started to shake her head and remind him that Baptiste was probably pulling into the parking lot this very second. The circumstances weren’t exactly conducive to her relaxing and enjoying herself. Plus, they’d already had sex roughly eight hundred times in the last twenty-four hours and her intimate lady parts were sore and wonderfully sated. There was a limit to how much her body could take and how many times she could cream and come for him.
Enough was enough.
She started to open her mouth and tell him that now was not the time. But she got exactly nowhere.
Because that was the thing about Anthony Scott.
He had his rough edges and arrogant moments, sure.
But when he looked at her like that?
There was only this.
She reached for him, palming his scratchy cheeks and pulling his face down for her urgent kisses. He was right there with her, running his hands down to her ass and hefting her as his mouth slanted over hers. She hopped up, wrapping her legs around his waist and reveling in his earthy scent and the size of his erection as he ground against her. His skilled mouth nuzzled, licked and nipped, his tongue growing more insistent and sweeping deeper once he gripped a handful of her hair and tilted her head the way he wanted it.
Just the way she wanted it.
She crooned and mewled, choking out little sounds of encouragement that he didn’t seem to need as he plunked her on the marble countertop next to the sink.
There was a tiny pause while they stared at each other in mutual astonishment. God only knew what all ran through his mind when he stared at her with such dark intent, his expression vaguely troubled, but she could only manage a single flustered thought:
What is this man doing to me?
Then he unleashed all his passion with a low growl and thinking became impossible.
Never had a quickie been quite so quick or so relentlessly thorough. While she propped her hands on the counter behind her and tried to withstand the onslaught, his hands managed to hit all the highlights of her body in sixty seconds or less. They gripped her hair and massaged her nape. Reverently stroked her face and neck, maneuvering her head this way and that for his kisses and nips. Manhandled her breasts and nipples, rubbing and squeezing jolts of sensation out of her body and making her squirm with growing agitation.
Down below, meanwhile, she held his waist in a death grip between her thighs. If this man thought she was letting him hop a plane to London when he belonged right here with her, he damn well better think again. But Anthony didn’t act like he was going anywhere. He rotated his hips with sharp thrusts, never missing a beat as he unerringly hit the sweet spot between her legs and made her foolish as she panted and moaned incoherently for him.
Then his hands went to the waistband of her yoga pants…
If you enjoyed this excerpt, read
EVERYTHING I NEED today!
Also by Ann Christopher
JOURNEY’S END Small-Town Contemporary Romance Series
“Book” 1: A JOURNEY’S END Novella
Book 2: LET’S DO IT
Book 3: ON FIRE
“Book” 4: LET’S STAY TOGETHER Novella
Book 5: UNFORGETTABLE
Click here for more titles in this series!
* * *
Billionaires of Journey’s End Contemporary Romance Series
Book 1: NO ORDINARY LOVE
Book 2: BEYOND ORDINARY LOVE
Book 3: EVERYTHING I HOPED FOR
Book 4: EVERYTHING I NEED
Click here for more titles in this series!
* * *
DEADLY Romantic Suspense Series
Book 1: DEADLY PURSUIT
Book 2: DEADLY DESIRES
Book 3: DEADLY SECRETS
* * *
IT’S COMPLICATED Contemporary Romance Series
TROUBLE
RISK
JUST ABOUT SEX
SWEETER THAN REVENGE
* * *
The Davies Family Contemporary Romance Series
Book 1: SINFUL SEDUCTION
Book 2: SINFUL TEMPTATION
Book 3: SINFUL ATTRACTION
Book 4: SINFUL PARADISE
* * *
The Warner Family Contemporary Romance Series
Book 1: TENDER SECRETS
Book 2: ROAD TO SEDUCTION
Book 3: CAMPAIGN FOR SEDUCTION
Book 4: REDEMPTION’S KISS
Book 5: REDEMPTION’S TOUCH
* * *
Boxed Sets
DEADLY Series
IT’S COMPLICATED
SWEET LOVE
* * *
BELLA MONSTRUM Young Adult Horror Series
Book 1: MONSTRUM
* * *
Single Titles
CASE FOR SEDUCTION
THE SURGEON’S SECRET BABY
SEDUCED ON THE RED CARPET
* * *
Novellas
TAILS OF LOVE
GIFT OF LOVE
To Richard.
And to EVB. I miss you.
Acknowledgments
Special thanks to:
Caroline Linden, for the brainstorming sessions and research help;
My copy editor extraordinaire, Martha Trachtenberg, for her eagle eyes;
Earthly Charms, for the gorgeous covers; and
Mom, for answering my medical questions. And for being a great mom.
© Copyright 2018 by Sally Young Moore
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
This is a work of fiction. All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone, living or dead, bearing the same name or names. All incidents are pure invention from the author’s imagination. All names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information or retrieval system, is forbidden without the prior written permission of both publisher and Author copyright owner of this book.
* * *
For information, contact:
Blue Iris Press LLC
7350 Montgomery Road #36476
Cincinnati, OH 45236
www.BlueIrisPress.com
* * *
ISBN-13: 978-1-948176-19
-4
* * *
Excerpt from Everything I Need © 2018 by Sally Young Moore
About the Author
A recovering lawyer, Ann Christopher has been published since 2006 and writes contemporary romance and romantic suspense.
* * *
When she’s not writing, Ann likes to do the following, in no particular order: read; cook; eat; hang out at Target looking for new stuff she doesn’t need; play with her 2 rescue dogs and 2 rescue cats; and travel the world with her family. She lives in Ohio with her family.
* * *
If you’d like to recommend a great book, share a recipe for homemade cake of any kind, or have a tip for getting your teens to do what you say the first time you say it, Ann would love to hear from you!
Stay in touch with Ann!
AnnChristopher.com
[email protected]
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