Chased by a Stranger (Craved Series #3) Read online

  I kept my eyes on her as she walked around to the foot of the bed, her perky breasts moving with her hips. Then she bent down to pick up her robe, put it on, and went to the bathroom, glancing at me one last time as she closed the door.

  I looked at the spot where she’d been lying and thought about how perfect she seemed to fit beside me in the bed. That’s when I noticed the open sketchbook on the bedside table.

  I crawled towards it on my elbows and lifted myself up enough to see the picture. The page was filled with different fish.

  I grabbed the notebook with one hand and sat up. I couldn’t believe how accurate the sketches were. If I tried to draw a fish it would’ve been of the stick figure variety, the head and the back fin nothing more than a circle and a triangle stuck together.

  But this page was covered with pictures so detailed they reminded me of the images I’d seen in my scuba classes. I sat up against the pillows, pulled the edge of the comforter over my lap, and turned back to the drawing.

  I recognized the butterfly fish and the groupers, the parrot fish and the surgeons. Even the rabbit fish and the trigger fish were distinguishable from their markings and shape. It never occurred to me when she said she was a graphic designer that she could draw like this.

  And suddenly I was even fonder of her, like I’d discovered some little extra feature she had when I was already sold on all her bells and whistles.

  “These pictures are fantastic,” I said.

  “What pictures?” she asked through the door.

  “The sketches of the fish.”

  “They’re nothing,” she said, throwing the bathroom door open.

  “I mean it,” I said. “These are really technical. Even a marine biologist would be impressed.”

  “I don’t think so,” she said, starting across the room.

  I flipped to the next page to see if there were any more and my mouth fell open. I’d recognize that bathing suit anywhere. In fact, it was kind of like looking in a very flattering mirror.

  When I looked up, she was standing in front of me and her face was beet red.

  I laughed. “Handsome guy.”

  Audrey snatched the notebook and tossed it in the drawer of the bedside table.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “I’m mortified,” she said, sitting on the edge of the bed beside me.

  “Don’t be silly. I’m flattered.”

  She looked up at me so sheepishly it was a struggle not to laugh.

  “Plus, it’s actually really good,” I said. “Much better than the one I drew of you.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “You drew me, too?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I can’t draw to save my life.”

  She groaned.

  “Besides,” I said, wrapping my hand around her waist and pulling her towards me, “I’ve just discovered that there are things I like doing with you a lot more than I like drawing.”

  She stuck her bottom lip out in a pout.

  I kissed her on the forehead.

  “I’m sorry to be such a creep,” she said.

  “I don’t think you’re a creep,” I said. “If anything, I’m the one who should apologize. I should’ve asked you before I looked at them.”

  “Yes, you should have.”

  “It won’t happen again.”

  She scooted towards me and laid a delicate hand on my chest. “It hardly matters,” she said. “I wouldn’t draw you again anyway.”

  “No?”

  She shook her head. “Not when I could be-”

  The latch clicked in the door and it opened two inches.

  Audrey looked over her shoulder. “Hey Megan.”

  “What are you doing in there?!” Megan asked.

  “Audrey was just showing me some of her sketches,” I said.

  Audrey scowled at me before making her way towards the door. “One second,” she said, picking my clothes up off the floor and tossing them to me.

  “Did she show you the one she did of you?” Megan asked through the crack. “It’s really good.”

  Audrey winced. “Shut up, Megan!”

  “As a matter of fact she did,” I said, pulling my boxers and shorts on as fast as I could.

  Audrey pressed the door closed and looked at me with her fingers poised over the lock.

  I pulled my shirt over my head and nodded at her.

  She unhooked the chain and opened the door.

  Megan looked back and forth between us. “You two are looking quite flushed after your massage,” she said, a smile spreading across her face. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you got smacked around a bit.”

  “You’re hilarious,” Audrey said, taking a step back so Megan could come inside with her collection of shopping bags.

  Megan set her bags at the foot of the bed closest to the door. “Can you make it to dinner tonight, Jack?”

  “Oh, I meant to ask you,” Audrey said, turning towards me.

  Megan laughed. “But you got so carried away with the sketching?”

  “No,” Audrey said. “With writing your obituary.”

  Megan pursed her lips.

  “Anyway,” Audrey continued, “would you like to go to dinner with me and Megan and her Italian… friend?”

  “That sounds great,” I said, running my fingers through my hair as I crossed the room.

  “See you tonight then,” Audrey said, pulling the door open.

  “Looking forward to it,” I said, giving her a quick kiss in the doorway.

  She smiled at me and nodded. “Me too.”

  As soon as I stepped in the hall I turned around, pressing my fingers against the door before she could close it. “Oh and one more thing,” I said, fixing my eyes on her.

  “Yeah?” she asked, leaning through the crack in the door.

  “Thanks again for the massage.”

  Chapter 4: Audrey

  My last day passed in a swirl of flashbacks.

  I did my best to enjoy my time at the beach, pretending my sole focus was soaking up the last of the bright Thai sunshine so that I might have enough Vitamin D to carry me through the next month in Seattle, but it was no use.

  All I could think about was Jack.

  Every time the breeze trailed between my thighs, I saw his head there. Every time some sweat dripped down my chest, I thought about how eagerly I’d drank him, like some kind of unrecognizable vixen-like version of myself, a version I liked.

  Every time I laid an ice cube on my own stomach to watch how fast it would melt, I remembered the way his abs tightened at my touch.

  He was something else.

  After a few hours, Megan asked if it would be terrible for her to abandon me to do some more shopping when I’d just lost my job. She didn’t actually say that last part, but I assumed it was implied. But I said the only reason she should feel guilty is if she found something fabulous and didn’t get two of them.

  And I was happy to enjoy a few hours on my own.

  After all, there had been enough sensory overload that morning to last me a lifetime, and I wasn’t eager to do that whole thing where people feel compelled to savor every moment and talk about how much they’ve enjoyed each other’s company to the point where they can’t forget for even two seconds that their holiday is coming to an end.

  Not that we hadn’t done that dance before. But I already knew how it would go. We’d reminisce about all the things we were only going to get to enjoy one more time, and it would add an unnecessary pressure to the rest of the day.

  Plus, this time I wasn’t in the mood.

  Because this time, the whole thing was depressing me more than it ever had before.

  Sure, I was sad that time we had to leave the Florida Keys when we were eighteen after we’d both hooked up with guys named Doug. And I’ll never forget our weekend in New York when we drank too much after somehow stumbling into the same bar where the cast of Cats was drinking after the show. And naturally, I hated saying goodbye to that sp
a in Arizona where we ate all those organic meals between hikes that actually toned me up to the point where I felt comfortable wearing shorts.

  But this was different.

  This time I’d had an experience on our holiday that was more than just a good time, and while I wanted to think that remembering Jack as a fond memory was going to make me happy, something told me I wasn’t going to feel that way. On the contrary, the thought of leaving him behind was already making me desperately sad.

  Because we had a connection. A spark. We had the kind of chemistry that people wrote poems and ballads about, the kind of mutual attraction that didn’t come around all that often.

  And I couldn’t help but feel like if he lived in Seattle, we wouldn’t be saying goodbye to each other tonight. Instead, what had already happened between us would only be the beginning of whatever this thing was, not the total sum of its parts.

  And maybe the sun and the drinks and the mind blowing sex were just going to my head, but I thought we had a shot. Then again, maybe it was silly to think anything serious could come out of it. I mean, our lifestyles weren’t exactly similar.

  I could just imagine the first morning he woke up to me eating Ben & Jerry’s for breakfast. He’d probably go running for the hills. On the other hand, maybe if someone like Jack was in my life all the time, I wouldn’t have to satisfy myself with Half Baked and Phish Food and Cherry Garcia and Chubby Hubby and-

  Not that I’m suggesting I would stop eating ice cream altogether, but maybe if I found someone I could change. Was that so ridiculous?

  Of course, it wasn’t really my ice cream dependency I was interested in having Jack fix. It was my heart, which wasn’t exactly broken but was growing weak with misuse.

  And even though it was an absurd thing to wish for, I thought he’d be a good muse for me. I knew it was pathetic that the way a man I barely knew looked at me made me feel more confident and inspired than I had in years, but I couldn’t help how I felt.

  Obviously, though, I wasn’t going to freak him out by saying something so crazy to his face. As far as his side of our fleeting relationship was concerned, I wanted to be the carefree, sexy fling he had been enjoying up to the very end.

  Because my life didn’t need complicated right now.

  It needed simplicity, and there was nothing simple about wanting to be with a man who lived on the other side of the world.

  ***

  I leaned up close to the mirror and began layering thin coats of black mascara on my eyelashes with every intention of overdoing it to the point that my every blink seemed suggestive.

  “So then what?” Megan asked, fluffing her wild ringlets in the mirror behind me.

  “And then she nearly walked in on us,” I said, looking down my nose.

  “Scandalous,” she said, reaching for the hairspray on the counter and stepping out of the bathroom. “But that’s nothing compared to my massive faux pas earlier at the front desk.”

  “What happened?” I asked, eager for her to stop gassing us.

  “I asked the front desk to mail a letter for me,” she said, putting the canister back on the sink top.

  I coughed through the familiar stench. “You did?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “Cause my Grandma collects stamps, remember?”

  “Oh right.” Like that never slipped my mind.

  “Anyway, I thought she should have one from Thailand.”

  “Sure.” I kept my head tilted back so my mascara would dry before it smudged. “So what happened?”

  “Right before I handed the letter to them, I licked the envelope to close it.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “And both of the people at the front desk actually gasped, covered their mouths, and jumped back in horror!”

  “What? Why?”

  “Apparently people don’t lick things here. I guess they associate licking with animals or something.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “I told Matteo, and he thought it was hilarious.”

  “I had no idea,” I said. “What about ice cream?”

  “Who knows? I was just glad they didn’t see me with Matteo the other night. They would’ve had heart attacks for sure.

  I rolled her eyes. “Thanks for letting me know,” I said, thinking Jack and I could’ve given them a fright ourselves.

  “Thank god I didn’t have to lick a stamp with the King’s face on it or I probably would’ve gone straight to jail.”

  I nodded. “Probably.” I grabbed the bronzer and headed to the vanity mirror where the light was better, hoping maybe I’d be able to breathe on the other side of the room. “Speaking of which, are you going to stay out tonight with Matteo?”

  “I’m going to go out,” she said, sorting through some new earrings on her bed. “But I’m not going to stay out.”

  “No last hurrah sleepovers?”

  “No. I’m not even packed yet. I pretty much have to come back tonight if I want to have time to enjoy a final morning breakfast with you.”

  “That’s sweet,” I said, smiling at her through the mirror.

  “Yeah,” she said. “And after all the cock I had for breakfast this morning-”

  “Megan!”

  She laughed maniacally. “Just saying. It might be nice to try something more traditional tomorrow.”

  I shook my head.

  “Sorry!” she said. “Seriously though, I’m obviously starved for some excitement after years of Missionary Max. I don’t know what’s gotten in to me.”

  “Some Italian,” I said. “That’s what.”

  Megan smiled. “Sounds about right. Anything up your sleeve for Jack tonight or did you give it all up earlier?”

  “The latter I’m afraid,” I said. “But I’d happily ride the same ride again.”

  “Glad to hear it,” Megan said, sitting on the bed and looking at me. “It’ll be interesting to see how he gets along with Matteo.”

  “I’m sure it’ll be fine,” I said. “When it comes to Jack, what’s not to like?”

  Chapter 5: Jack

  I was absolutely bursting at the seams. It felt like I’d found something wonderful that I couldn’t tell anybody about.

  At least, not before I got something to eat. Having Audrey again really worked up my appetite.

  I ordered a shrimp kra pao and a banana milkshake at the restaurant across the street from my apartment before leaning back to enjoy the view of the beach.

  I couldn't remember the last time I'd had such a pleasant start to a day. I felt alive again in a way I missed. It was a feeling I used to have all the time when I was excited about something new, and it made me recognize something in myself that I’d forgotten.

  I took a deep breath and let my mind wander to thoughts of Audrey on her knees, closing her eyes as she took me in her mouth and moaned, sending warm vibrations through my whole body.

  God that woman could work a dick. And I wasn’t the easiest to impress either. I was way past the teenage attitude of all pussies and lips being created equal. On the contrary, I’d been on this Earth long enough to know that sex was an art, a skill, a talent that could be taught and learned and practiced.

  And I was pleased to have discovered that Audrey’s artistry extended far beyond what she could do with pencil and paper.

  But the poor woman! I’d busted a load at the back of her throat big enough to fill a milk bottle and she just took it in her stride, sucking me down like she couldn’t believe how good I tasted.

  My neck felt hot just thinking about it.

  And as my mind continued to wander, it was like the wonders never ceased. I remembered the way I looked entering her from behind, the mounds of her round ass in my hands. Most men probably went their whole lives without ever having an ass like that in front of them.

  I sighed.

  Goddamn it that woman was under my skin.

  And it wasn’t just how sexy she was either. It wasn’t just the fact that she moved so timidly until
she was in control, until her eyes flashed, giving away the fact that she’d figured out exactly what she wanted.

  She was sweet, too. And funny. And smart. And kind.

  Most of the women I knew who were good at sex were fucking hard work to be around when their mouths weren’t full of dick. But Audrey was easy. She made jokes. She was flirtatious. She treated me like my company was enough and never asked for anything besides a good time.

  And boy did I want to show her a good time. Hopefully, the double date tonight would provide the perfect opportunity.

  Except on some level, I knew it wouldn’t be enough for me. I knew no matter how well everything went, I’d be disappointed that a good time was all I’d be able to offer her.

  Especially since I knew I could offer her so much more.