Sneak Peek

“Can I sit here?” I point at the mouth-watering pair of thighs encased in black cotton, with muscles bulging in all the right places.

I never imagined I’d be saying those words. Especially not here in the small town of Valencia, at the Annual Citrus Fest, with hundreds of people close by. Certainly not to the impossibly gorgeous man sprawled on a sturdy lawn chair that seems way too small for his bulky frame. He sips on some citrus concoction and stares pensively off into the tranquil lake.

Nathan King.

He’s the reason I came back despite promising myself I never would when I walked out on my dad last year.

I look down at him again and my heart skips a beat. The top few buttons of his black shirt are undone, drawing my eyes to the tanned skin peeking through the opening. It’s dark out here and his face is partly covered in my shadow, but I don’t need to see it. I already know what he looks like with his piercing blue eyes and a strong stubbled jaw that I’d do anything to feel against my cheek.

He’s a doctor, and one of the most famous oncologists in the States, but he could also make a killing as a movie star. I realized during my pre-med year that having a crush on a famous doctor, however renowned, was a stupid reason to study medicine. So, I quickly changed my major to something Im truly passionate about: non-profit work. That didn’t douse my ardor, though. He’s still the sexiest man I’ve ever seen.

Unfortunately, he’s also one I shouldn’t be crushing on. He’s twenty years my senior, my self-appointed mentor, and most importantly, my dad hates his guts. I wonder if Nathan knows about that last part.

I step to the side so that lights from the booths in the distance can illuminate his face, which I note is devoid of expression. Only the pause of the bottle on the way to his mouth gives away his surprise at my request.

Well, at least I managed to surprise the unflappable Dr. King.

“You want to sit where?” His deep voice rumbles incredulously.

My cheeks flame hotter. “Um, on your lap?” I squeak.

I swear it sounded a lot less insane in my head two minutes ago. Three weeks ago, Id actually agreed with Isa, my best friend, that it was a brilliant idea when she suggested I make a move on Nathan.

Although whatever happened to good old ‘hello’ or even ‘can I buy you another drink?’

Must be the darkness and perhaps the zesty citrus cocktail in my hand that’s making me this bold. Or this stupid.

He gestures to the empty chair beside him. “There happens to be a perfectly good seat right here. Why would you want to sit on me, Tess?”

His eyes tell me that he already knows the answer, he just wants me to spell it out.

The look he gives me sends a jolt through me, ending in an inexplicable urge to run, but I stay put as he cocks his head to one side to study me. For the first time in the five years I’ve known him, I see his gaze shift from amiable and professional respect to something else entirely. It’s intense, an unmistakable spark of heat as it sweeps over me. Attraction?

Wishful thinking?

In any case, it’s too late to back out now. I’ve come on to him. I have to stick it out. Isa’s words echo in my mind.

You’re a grown woman and a gorgeous one at that. And he’s a single, red-blooded, straight man with eyes in his head.

She’s right. I can do this. I’m no longer that geeky teen that his hospital gifted with a fancy stethoscope for helping kids with cancer. Im an adult, Im bold and Ive got a plan. I make myself hold his gaze, then run my fingers through my curly blonde hair – a move that usually makes guys at college do a double-take. I try for a sultry voice, but with my nerves, Im pretty sure I sound more like a strangled cat.

“Because I want to, Dr. King.”

Cringe. Oh my God, kill me now.

I hazard a look down at Nathan again and catch something flash in his eyes. He says nothing for the longest time and merely watches me with interest. Just when I think he’s about to send me away like a naughty child, he finally huffs out an amused breath, then leans back and slowly spreads his legs wide.

“Have at it, Tess.”

Heat engulfs my face as my mouth goes dry. Suddenly, those four words are the most provocative ones I’ve ever heard. Ever.

What have I done?

I’m not sure what I expected when I came on to him. But it was not him reclining his big body and inviting me to sample his six-plus feet of muscle heaven. I pause, looking back at the rest of the town milling about a hundred yards away. Granted, this area is a secluded spot. Heavy foliage from the trees lining the grassy bank of the lake obscures us from casual viewing. Still, someone could see. And they’ll undoubtedly talk.

He cocks a thick eyebrow in challenge when he sees my hesitation. “What’s the matter, Tess?”

Exactly, what’s the matter Theresa? Isn’t this why you came all the way from Boston?

My inner voice of insanity makes a valid point. But fantasizing and actually experiencing the fantasy up close are two different things. It’s been a year since I last saw him, which should have been plenty of time to forget my stupid crush. Only, it wasn’t. Which was why I thought I’d take Isa’s advice and infuse a dash of reality in hopes of drowning my crush. After all, things– and people– hardly live up to the mind’s flowery expectations.

So with that in mind, I made plans to attend the Annual Citrus Fest because this is one event he never misses.

Our town was named after the Valencia orange, a nod to its history with the fruit and its abundance of orange orchards. Thats why the Annual Citrus Fest means a lot to someone like Nathan, who was born and raised here.

Every year, he gives a speech at the fest. After that, he wanders alone over to this pier where he sits for a while before returning to LA. I suspect this lakefront holds some sentimental value to him, although I’m not quite sure why.

Nathan’s eyes rake over me again. Theres no doubt: his stare is carnal. It makes me bold enough to take up his invitation.

Besides, he can’t possibly feel as good as he looks, can he?

So, with my heart pounding, I put my drink on the ground next to his chair. Then, I lower myself into the space between his thighs. The first thing that hits me is his warmth, followed by the smell of his skin, earth and man. I close my eyes against the unexpected shock of pleasure that leaves me wanting more. I can’t resist reclining back against his broad chest. Which now leaves my hands. Where do I put them?

Should I tuck them against my body? Lift my arms over my head and link my fingers together at his nape?

Finally, I decide to place them over his thighs. The moment they touch him, my fingers involuntarily flex against hard muscle.

Holy shit, does the man live in the gym or something?

Nathan lets out a small sound. It could be surprise or disgruntlement, but I’m too busy soaking in his nearness to care. Then he bends to whisper right in my ear, even though it’s just the two of us out here. “So, tell me, Tess, what are you playing at?”

The masculine energy brimming from him makes my head feel wooly. Without thinking, I inch my butt against his crotch so I’m rubbing up against him. Another shock of pleasure runs through me as I feel him through his pants.

I’m actually doing this!

He feels large, but he’s not exactly hard. I’m the slightest bit disappointed that he’s that unbothered while I’m about to combust. I’m also intrigued by his lack of a physical reaction. Since getting to college and discovering how, with a few practiced poses, I could easily have guys panting with desire, I can’t remember having had to work this hard to get a guy all over me. I’m sure if I tried what I’m doing to his crotch right now on one of those poor college boys, they’d have come in their pants. Must be because Nathan is older, a fact which excites me to no end.

When I continue to brush against him like a cat, he snaps, “Tess!” His voice cracks like a whip, making me pause.

“What?” I purr back, my voice a blend of sultry and mock innocence. “I just want to talk.”

“We talked earlier.” He reminds me.

He’s right. He gave a speech during the fest and I caught him right after for a mentor-mentee chat.

“Yes, and we kept getting interrupted every five seconds,” I protest “I just want to continue our deep, intellectual conversation.”

“Then, sit still and use your mouth,” he commands, his voice firm, sending an unexpected thrill through me.

“Sure,” I reply, attempting to sound obedient. But the moment I try to settle, my body has other ideas, betraying me with its restless rhythm.

This time, his hands capture my arms to keep me still. Then comes his chuckle, a sound so warm it sends shivers down my spine, even though I can tell his laughter isn’t entirely from amusement.

“Do you have something in your pants, Tess?”

I lean back, loving the heat of his breath on my ear. “Maybe I do. Or maybe Im just allergic to sitting still. Its one of those rare conditions, Im sure you know all about it.”

Instead of the flirty retort I expect, his voice suddenly goes gruff as he whispers, “But why, Tess?”

My brows lift in question although he can’t see my face. “Why what?”

His voice goes even softer, to the point where it’s almost inaudible. “Why are you doing this, little girl?”

I blink, momentarily distracted from seeking my pleasure. I’ve done this countless times over the past year, since Mom’s death, and I’ve never had to answer that question before. Also, having him label me as a little girl rankles. Like he still sees me as that awkward teenager who hung on to his every word.

Im almost twenty-one.

And he’s forty.

So?I want to kick that snarky voice in the mouth.

To Nathan I say, “Don’t call me little girl.” He must hear the irritation lacing my tone because his body softens against mine, and his grip on my arms loosens.

He chuckles, “Youre right, Tess. You’re not a little girl anymore. That much is crystal clear.” Then his voice drops an octave lower and he murmurs, “So baby girl, why do you want me?”

Baby girl. Holy fuck, yes.

Wetness pools at my core as my nails reflexively score his thighs. I wanted to seduce Nathan, but it looks like my plan just backfired.

“Nathan,”I murmursilkily, not exactly sure what I’m about to ask him for this time. However, he goes rigid the moment I say his name. His heart starts to pound against my back, and his breathing changes.

I wonder if it’s my sultry tone or the sound of his name that’s putting him in this state. I suspect it’s the latter since I’ve been speaking this way all night, but I’ve never called him by his first name before.

So, I decide to try it again.

Throwing my head back on his shoulder, I whisper his name against his jaw. And sure enough, the tempo of his heart rate picks up. He likes it! It’s like he can’t even help his reaction.

And I grow even slicker between my legs with the knowledge that I can have such an effect on a man like him.

Nathan takes what feels like a few calming breaths, then growls, “You’re playing a dangerous game, Tess, you know that?”

He pulls me flush against his crotch, and I gasp. He’s hard as steel. And huge. Suddenly, my skin feels too tight, and my core throbs. I clench my thighs and bite my bottom lip to suppress the moan threatening to escape.

Right now, I’m so turned on that I can hardly see straight. I don’t think there’s anything I wouldn’t be prepared to do to get him to fuck me tonight.

As though reading my mind, he growls into my ear, “You’re delectable, Tess. But I’m not going to fuck you just because you’re too scared to deal with your own emotions.”

“What?” My fog of arousal lifts, getting replaced by a knot of dread for what he’ll say next.

“You want to wash away the painful memories right? So that when you think of Valencia, all you’ll remember is the thrill of the taboo fuck you had with an older man. Instead of how your mother died and how your father couldn’t care less.”

His words rain over me like freezing water, drowning every ounce of desire I felt seconds ago. Of course he’s heard about my mom. Rumors were rife about the pathetic rich man’s wife who was so deranged that she ended up taking her own life. The one whose husband couldn’t wait to move on with his next squeeze.

Pain lances at me again for what Mom suffered as my dad’s wife. What I suffered trying to pour myself into the John Blackwell mold. Everything the Blackwells did was news that got spread around Valencia, including adopting me at the age of eleven.

Just when I was beginning to settle down into my new, if somewhat strange, family, Mom’s curious death and my dad’s indiscretions became gossip fodder for everyone else. Cruel whispers and speculations surged.

But not one single person had brought her up to me with this level of insensitivity.

And to think it would come from the one person who always had nothing but encouragement and unwavering faith in me and my abilities is soul-crushing.

I yank myself off him, standing stiffly with my back turned, my arms going around myself as if to protect me from his words.

“I’m not scared of anything,” I snap, staring unseeingly into the glassy water.

He stands up too, then comes around to face me.

“Aren’t you? Because I’ve watched you grow up, Tess. I see how brilliant you are out in the world, yet you struggle to find a place at home.”

I instantly regret telling him about my family.

On one of those days in my junior year of high school, my charity team had a fundraising meeting with Nathan, whom we’d appointed as a patron. He’d seen me fighting to hold back tears throughout the meeting, and then he got me alone, demanding to know what the problem was. I’d been so overwhelmed that I’d needed no hard prompting before I told him everything, sobbing all the way through my explanation. Nathan held my hand and promised me that I was going to be okay in spite of my family.

His gruff voice dissipates those memories now. “Did you think coming back here and doing something shocking would be enough to erase what this place reminds you of?”

He bends closer to me when I don’t respond. “Newsflash, Tess: nothing erases the pain, not unless you grow a pair and face it head-on like an adult.”

Tears spring to my eyes and my fingers start to tremble as I fold them into fists. I want to rage at him. To tell him to go to hell.

But I can’t, because he’s right.

He’s right about most things, except why I came back.

Sure, I was tired of crushing on him from afar, but more than that, I just needed to see him. Ever since the day he made me that promise and shared his tough times growing up working in orchards, Nathan has been like a grounding force for me.

This past year, Ive made some big changes. I stopped talking to my dad because I realized he had no use for me after Mom died. I switched from UCLA pre-med to a non-profit management program in Boston, all on my own. Isa, and her brother Chris, were there for me, but I needed someone like Nathan. Someone whos been through rough patches and could tell me that it was going to be okay. After his speech today, I intended to ask him out for drinks, but he seemed distracted, like he couldn’t even remember me.

He continues standing beside me, his big body radiating warmth against my suddenly chilly skin. His nearness is like a bed of roses—enticing, yet laced with vicious thorns. I take a deep breath, square my shoulders, and face him, my eyes bright with defiance as I mentally steel myself to hear more. He can’t be half as horrible as my dad, who is an expert at verbally reducing people to ashes.

I find Nathan watching me intently as the tiniest bit of emotion seeps into his eyes.

“You want my advice?” he asks.

Not really, no.

I can’t bring myself to answer.

“Go away. Your mother is gone. There’s nothing holding you back anymore. You’re brilliant, Tess. Why not invest your energy into your career and into people who actually give a shit about you?”

He leans over to brush a kiss across my forehead, and I cringe, unable to take his tenderness after his words have ripped me to shreds. He holds his body away from mine as an unreadable expression enters his eyes.

“Night, Tess. I wish you the best.”

With those parting words, he walks away.

I stand rooted on the spot, not even turning to watch him leave.

Tears fill my eyes and spill down my cheeks. I let them fall, and soon enough, a sob wrenches itself out of my throat. I double over from the pain, giving myself over to it. I’ve spent the last year running from the truth that I’m utterly alone in the world. I tried everything to escape the pain; drinking, smoking, and hooking up with random guys, but nothing seemed to work long-term. Maybe like Nathan said, facing that truth will make life easier to bear.

Like an adult.

He treated me like a snotty child. I feel the sharp talons of mortification reaching for me and savagely yanking out the pathetic crush I’ve been nursing for Nathan King. One I’ve been unable to get rid of.

That crush made me travel six hours, digging into my meager savings so I could see his face and talk to him again.

Invest your energy into people who actually give a shit about you.Apparently, he doesn’t.

But in some twisted way, that’s exactly what I needed to hear to let go of the final tie I thoughtI had to this place. The past decade has shown me that the one thing I’ve always wanted, belonging to a family, just isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be. So, I’m going to throw myself out into the world and make it remember my name.

As an added bonus, I never need to see Nathan King again.