No Longer Lost: Secrets Of Stone: Book Nine Page 4

  “Well.” He snorted, and the brutal edge of it had me rethinking the “sweet disposition” stuff. On the other hand, it was kind of nice to see someone getting incensed on my behalf. Damn nice. Maybe I wasn’t losing my mind, after all. “The guy was a fool to let you go. A fool. That’s all I know.”

  “Thanks.” I eked out a new smile, but John didn’t vacillate from his stance. “You’re sweet.” And why had I just let that slip out? The guy wasn’t going to let the subject go, which meant the conversation snippets had to come from me. “But really, he never had me in the first place, so there’s that.” I finally added a nonchalant shrug and then set to work on the papers in my lap. There. Done.

  “Let me go check if they’re ready for you inside. And really, hon, I’m sorry if I offended you.”

  Another forced smile. “No worries,” I said without looking up. “It’s all good here.” I didn’t look up again until I heard John’s retreating steps followed by the RV’s closing door, leaving me to let the memories and anger back in.

  Damn it. Damn him. When would these taunting thoughts stop? I’d nearly been back in control, and then he had to go and stir everything up at the Memorial Day party. Had to go and reinsert himself in every cell of my libido…and hope in my heart. Had to go and invade, just as ruthlessly as he had the first time, every corner of my carefully guarded world. The asshole didn’t deserve an inch of that real estate, either—let alone the miles he was taking up.

  But I missed him. Everywhere. All the damn time. My body ached and throbbed for his touch. My lips tingled when I remembered his kisses. My pussy pulsed when I recalled all the bites he peppered across my body, driving me insane with his lusty gifts of precious pain. He’d drugged me with his sexual skill. Made me an addict to his passion. A total slave to his love.

  I was hopeless.

  A fool.

  Just like my fucking mother.

  I hurled the pen back into my purse with a furious growl. “Goddamnit!”

  At the same time, someone cleared their throat in front of me. I whipped my sights up to find John standing there again. A bewildered frown consumed his face, and he was wringing his hands like an Amish guy in a strip joint. “You…uhhh…okay?” Clearly, the guy wasn’t comfortable around emotional females. At all.

  “No,” I barked. “I’m really not.” But luckily, he didn’t call me “hon” again. Probably saved himself from having to extract his balls from his spleen.

  “Do you want to reschedule for next time? Really, Taylor, it’s fine. You look a little…I don’t know…frazzled?” He was choosing his words carefully, his voice soft as though talking to a child.

  Which was getting on my nerves worse than “hon.”

  “God. Sorry, John.” I punctuated it with a stiff exhalation. “It’s been a really tough week at work. And I’ve got a lot on my mind. I was a million miles away.” I faked yet another smile, gritting my teeth behind my closed lips. At this rate, I was going to need some damn veneers.

  “I noticed that.”

  Forget the veneers. It’d be time for full-on dentures, because I was going to grind everything in my mouth down to stubs. But I had no choice and kept up the look through my prolonged stare. What exactly did he want me to say? His good ol’ boy nature was working my last nerve, but I quickly reminded myself none of this was his fault.

  “So. Are you ready for me?” I asked, patience as thin as my nerves.

  “Yeah, we are.” More of his weird hand-wringing thing. “But…uhhh…hey…”

  “Yes?” I barely avoided dragging it out like a snake about to strike.

  “Before we go inside, can I ask you something?”

  I raised my eyebrows in expectation, not trusting my smart mouth not to go in twenty sideways directions if I opened it. This guy was cute but shit at reading a room.

  “Well…”

  “John.” I folded my arms. “Just spit it out.”

  He settled himself with a self-deprecating grin. “Well, I have my lunch break after your appointment. I was just thinking…maybe we could go grab something together? If…uhhh…you feel like it, I mean.”

  I pulled in another breath. His stammering was probably enticing to some girls, but not this one. John was the kind of man I’d chew up and spit out before the end of round one. He was kind enough and certainly good-looking—but a guy with a submissive streak this wide didn’t call to the deeper desires in my blood, the primitive needs in the corners of my soul. Still, something had to be done about exorcising Mac Stone from my system. Maybe spending some time with someone else—besides the girls and their goo-goo eyes for their husbands—was the way to start that process.

  The thought finally led to me throwing up a careless hand. “Ah, fuck it,” I laughed out. “Sure. Why not?”

  The hand I’d just held up became a stiff symbol of warning. “But, John, please understand that while I’m not involved with Dr. Stone, I have no interest in being anything other than friends with you, okay? I’m not ready for anything else.” I owed the guy complete honesty.

  “Hey, I get that,” he returned. “But friends go out to lunch all the time, don’t they? I mean, you probably should eat a little more, Taylor.”

  I rolled my eyes. It was better than my initial desire of booting him in the shin. “If you say that again, I will throat punch you. So if we are going to have any hope of a friendship, don’t go down that road again. ’Kay? ’Kay.”

  My curtness set him back physically. I think I also freaked him out once more, because he simply turned and motioned for me to follow him into the Bloodmobile. But during all of that, I definitely caught the little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he went. Some guys just liked having their balls busted, I guess.

  And the other kinds of guys? The kinds who rose to an insult like a moth to a flame, getting more and more excited until a frenzy swirled around them? The kind who incited similar energy in every molecule of air around them, literally changing the atmosphere with their presence?

  That was the guy I yearned to be having lunch with. The alpha moth who could handle a girl like me.

  Damn it to hell. Stop.

  The blood draw went without incident, just like it had every other time before I knew the name Maclain Stone. Just invoking his name, even silently, was scrambling my brain while I sat there, but I managed to keep my shit together long enough not to pass out this time.

  By the time I finished and had my snack, my thoughts were all clowned-out. I was ready for some fresh air in my lungs and some new human interaction to feed my mind. Wasn’t a damn thing to be done for my aching libido, so I worked to ram it to a back burner while waiting outside at the table for John to wrap up and join me.

  During those few minutes, I worried if I’d indeed made a mistake.

  When he came out the door, all smiles and puffed-up chest, I was pretty certain I had.

  “So where would you like to go, my lady?” His mock chivalrous tone already had my teeth all but wrestling each other again.

  “Okay, really,” I scoffed. “I’m no one’s lady. And wherever is good. I can find something anywhere; I’m not picky.”

  “Well, I have a gluten allergy—and nuts and shellfish also. And eggs. Oh, and citrus too. We probably should go to this place I usually go. They have a great non-GMO menu.”

  “Yeah. Fine.” Though it sounded like he was speaking another language. Not that I wanted to go there. At this point, I sensed simpler was going to be better. How the hell had I thought this would kill the damn moth? “Just get me some grub, and I’ll be good. Probably best to take separate cars.” Best—and wise. “I’ll follow you. Where are you parked?”

  John pouted. No, seriously. Pouted. “Oh, come on. Let’s just drive together. The parking sucks everywhere in this town.”

  “Fine.” I hated giving up the escape option if things got really awkward—not that they weren’t already—but the guy had a point. “I’ll drive, then. I’m right over here.”

&n
bsp; “Cool. My wheels are all the way over in the employee lot, anyway. Half my lunch hour would be over by the time we got there.”

  He laughed like he’d just told the best joke, and I attempted to join in. I was really going to try to give this my best effort—and in the end, I was glad I did.

  Lunch wasn’t too bad after all. I discovered the guy was very smart—probably overly so, for the job he had—and had a lot of interesting hobbies. I ended up telling him that I played chess, and he was eager to announce that while he wasn’t very good, he’d love to play sometime. Of course, that sent my mind careening down the kinky Mac Stone path again, remembering the night the man had won himself a sleepover by beating me fair and square. On my own special antique board to boot!

  Brilliant, arrogant jackass.

  I hated him.

  But there was the rub.

  I didn’t.

  Not even close.

  I could tell myself all the lies I wanted, but it wouldn’t change the way my heart and libido betrayed me every time the man’s soulful green eyes came into my thoughts. Or his insolent, inviting smirk. Or his sinfully sculpted body. Or everything he could do to me with it…

  Damn it. There I went. Again.

  John was being a good sport about it too. He caught me drifting off a few times—all right, maybe more than a few—but instead of being a jerk, he just waited patiently, picking at his falafel—or whatever the hell he was eating.

  “What is that again?” I pointed toward his plate with my fork.

  “It’s quinoa, kale, beets, and goat cheese on a bed of mixed greens. It’s pretty good, actually. You want to try a bite?”

  I crinkled my nose. “Jesus Christ, man. Do you ever just jones for pizza? Or nachos?”

  “Used to,” he answered, his voice edged with notes I didn’t recognize. “But I’ve been eating pretty clean for most of my adult life, so now that all that crap is out of my rotation, I don’t really miss it.” Ah. Superiority. That was the edge. I wasn’t sure I appreciated it very much.

  “Crap? Did you just call pizza crap?” I dramatically swept my hands up to clutch my heart, but John just scowled. “Dude, it’s like the fifth food group.” I laughed to emphasize the tease. “I’m going to go over and cry in the corner if you say that shit again.”

  Finally that got him laughing, and I beamed a smile in return. The guy was actually adorable when he relaxed a little. I had no doubt that he’d make the right girl very happy one day. I just wasn’t going to be her.

  After we settled in and had a few bites in silence, he murmured, “So, when you keep checking out into the stratosphere, is it the doctor?” He had the decency to look sheepish about the pry. “Did he hurt you?”

  I took an evasive sip of my iced tea. “I really don’t want to talk about it. Is that okay? I’m having a nice lunch here with my friend. Why spoil it?”

  “You’re right,” he conceded right away. “I just want you to know you can confide in me, Taylor.” But the capitulation didn’t stop him from reaching for my hand. I quickly pulled back, occupying both my hands with a nervous fiddle at my napkin. “I’d like to be here for you. As your friend.” He underlined the word by swiping up his hand, cutting off my interruption before it started. “That’s what friends do for each other, right? I mean, who knows? Maybe some night I’ll call you crying after some girl has broken my heart.”

  I let the comment hang in the air. I had no intention of giving John a single digit of my phone number when we parted today. He was nice, but that was it. There was nothing wrong with his friendliness and understanding, but there was nothing really right about it, either. I could get a dog and have as much fun—and maybe some great exercise, if he was one of those let’s-go-running kind of pooches.

  I weathered a twinge of guilt for thinking that way, but a truth was a truth. I had all the friends I needed with Claire, Margaux, and Talia. I didn’t need some smothering guy who wanted to be my running pooch with benefits. We would never, and I meant never, graduate from the friend zone.

  Finally resolved to that conclusion, I finished my lunch and was glad when John did the same, allowing us to head right back to the hospital. He was getting antsy because his lunch hour had ended ten minutes prior, and as much as I pushed Missy up Torrey Pines Hill, she would only go as fast as she wanted to go. I found a spot to park quicker than ever and got out to say goodbye to John—all the while wishing I could just stop and let him off in front of the Bloodmobile. But the dude and his lingering, all-too-tight hugging abilities had other ideas.

  Ugh.

  “I had a great time with you today, Taylor,” he proclaimed. “Thank you for agreeing to have lunch with me.”

  “Hey, what are friends for?” I laughed, but it was a little too loud and a little too hard for the moment. My jig was up. I’d surrendered the dead giveaway—but the guy leaned in again, arms outstretched for another hug, causing me to start laughing for real.

  His bewildered look was both priceless and heartbreaking. I was confident I hadn’t sent any mixed signals throughout our meal. He must have sensed my ensuing bewilderment about that, because he sent over a sideways grin. “Friends hug one another, Taylor.”

  I tried to laugh again—not because I felt it but because he was right. I was acting like an uptight prude. Still, I gave him just one more hug—a swift one this time—and dodged out of his arms when he tried to peck my cheek. Okay, so friends did that too, right? Fine. Maybe I was a prude, then. At least when it came to guys suddenly looking at me like Labradors wanting to hit the beach trail.

  “Yeah, uhh…okay,” I muttered quickly. “See you around.” I added a halfhearted wave as John headed for the RV and then rapidly spun back around to fast-track it to my car.

  That was before I saw him.

  Yes. Him as in…him.

  Oh, motherfucker.

  Especially because I was too damn late to prevent the inevitable. The hurricane named Mac was really going to happen. Dr. Stone, in all his incensed glory, was already at a full charge across the lawn, all but tearing the grass out by the roots with his pounding footsteps. His white coat flapped behind him like a superhero’s cape.

  He was furious. Unstoppable.

  And so damn hot.

  Meaning I was so fucked.

  He finally stopped, chest pumping, hands fisted, and legs braced, on the median in front of my car. “That guy again?” He stabbed a finger at the Bloodmobile. “Really? Haven’t we been down this road already, Taylor?”

  He panted like an animal between the questions he hurled, and all I could think about was letting out the animal he called to in me. As in, tearing his clothes off. And then mine. And then fucking him like a rutting, wild thing at the mercy of my wildest, raunchiest instincts.

  I tried battling the lust but recognized that fail at once. Instead, I shoved it all into another sensation. A rage to fully match his. “What I do is none of your damn concern.” Unbelievably, I managed to seethe it out with a completely serene smile—and inwardly congratulated myself for it. Oh God, how it egged him on. And oh God, how I loved watching the twisted evidence of that across his carved, gorgeous features.

  “Fuck. That,” he gritted, prowling closer—and doubling the breaths in my lungs. “Everything about you is my concern, Taylor Mathews. Every. Thing.”

  He crowded farther into my personal space, forcing me to inhale his clean scent, to hear every nuance of his breaths, to feel every speck of his energy. He was finally so close, I had to tilt my head back to answer.

  “Not anymore, Clown. You threw that all away—or are you conveniently forgetting that part too?”

  His brows turned into umber slashes over his feral glare. “Forgetting what?”

  “That—That stunt in Thermal,” I spat. “We clear now? The seven hundred texts I haven’t responded to weren’t enough?” It was actually seven hundred and one as of this morning, but who was counting? “Not that smart for a brain surgeon. But I think we’ve been down that road
before too.”

  His lips twisted. “I wouldn’t have to be so persistent if you would just fucking answer me!”

  I dropped my jaw. I had no other choice. “Are you really yelling at me about this? I mean, really?”

  “I’m not yelling!”

  “You need to check yourself. Now.”

  I turned on my heel and made a renewed beeline toward Missy, but Mac grabbed me by the crook of my arm. Yanked me back against his heaving chest. Secured me tight against him, my back to his front, using the position to dip in and growl directly in my ear.

  “I’m not through with you, sassy girl.” His deep voice vibrated down my spine, flooding my panties with freshly aroused cream. “I will never get you out of my system, Taylor.”

  When I went to pull away again, he locked his other forearm across my chest, holding me even tighter. I could feel his cock swelling and pressing into my ass, even before he ground that beautiful length against my trembling crack. The move was bold and lewd and—

  “Not fair.” I issued the last of it as the condemnation that it was. “So…so not fair.” My voice was a low moan by now, thick with my abject need, my instantly insane arousal.

  He didn’t help a damn thing with his growly breath at my neck and those continued rolls of his hips. Oh dear God, his hips. “So much in life isn’t fair, Sassy—but I refuse to watch you walk away a second time without fighting back.”

  “You…you had a second chance. I drove out to the damn desert to give it to you, and—”

  “I can explain.”

  “Oh, bite me, Clown!”

  The second it burst out, I identified the mistake it was. Or maybe the blessing.

  At once, I was following the rebellion with a dark, low moan—as he sank his teeth into the flesh of my earlobe. He sent his tongue out, warm and generous, to soothe away the pain…

  And to send a hundred shocks of awakening straight to my pussy.

  “Mac. Stop,” I finally—unbelievably—managed. “You have to stop. We’re in the middle of a fucking parking lot!”

  “And your point is…”

  “Uh, parking lot?” I retorted. “And I’m not defiling Sally that way.”