Authors: Francesca St. Claire
When Julia Chapman first sees drop-dead handsome Ben Russell
at the helm of his boat, she’s hooked. They meet soon after at a mutual
friend’s party but her hopes and dreams are shattered by his less-than-friendly
behavior toward her.
Fighting the instant attraction he feels for the gorgeous
schoolteacher, Ben pushes her away with borderline rudeness. But he soon finds he
can’t fight his growing desire for her.
When they finally come together, the sex is explosive and
plentiful. She falls hard for him and is happy beyond belief, until she hears a
message on his answering machine a couple of months into their relationship and
her perfect world collapses.
A
Romantica®
contemporary erotic romance
from Ellora’s Cave
When the drawbridge bells rang and the barriers dropped,
Julia sighed in frustration.
Hey,
w
hy the rush?
Really, why the
rush? It wasn’t as if she’d miss something important by delaying her return
home by fifteen minutes. Her conscience assured her that a few idle moments off
a busy schedule didn’t exactly translate into slackness—a notion she had yet to
grasp since quitting life in the Big Apple—and she turned off the engine and
settled down to watch the boats sail by.
The old steamboat
Sabino
was first, only half full
now that summer was coming to an end and the number of tourists had thinned
out. Recognizing the lonely sailor on one of the fishing boats, Julia waved,
then her gaze wandered to the crowd gathered on the banks of the river.
The opening and closing of the drawbridge was always a
fascinating event for both adults and children. To locals the bridge was a
royal pain in the neck most of the time, interrupting traffic and creating
havoc on the main street of town every hour of the day. But the bridge drew in
thousands of tourists, so everybody tried to put up with the inconvenience as
best they could.
Just as the last boat disappeared around the river bend and
the warning bells began to sound, a slick yacht rushed by.
Now that!
Mesmerized by the tall, rugged-looking man at the helm,
Julia followed his progress as he entered the Old Seaport, unaware she was
holding up traffic until the impatient driver in the car behind hers urged her
to move on.
Serenity
… Nice name for a boat.
And who might that
guy be?
No one she’d ever seen before or she’d have remembered
.
Probably a tourist… Great shame, she would have loved to take a closer look at
his handsome face and athletic body.
After seeing him sailing by, she found herself thinking
about sex for the rest of the day. On the drive home, while walking her dog and
even when putting the garbage out, she daydreamed about all the ways she’d love
for him to take her. Doggie, missionary, cowgirl—she wanted to try them all.
With him. Repeatedly. And when later that night she pleasured herself, his was
the face, the body, she pictured thrusting into her—her orgasm more intense and
lasting than in the past months.
Julia’s love for Mystic had started when she’d first visited
the area while still in college, and when four years later she was offered a
teaching job in the nearby town of Stonington, she had not hesitated. Fred, her
black Labrador, moved in six weeks later. Ecstatic with joy, she ignored her
best friends’ bewilderment as to why she would trade Manhattan for life in a
small town. She couldn’t understand their disapproval of Mystic and they didn’t
get her fascination for it. But that didn’t bother her. She had the perfect
life…except for one aspect. Dating.
It had been six months since her last date, and there hadn’t
been many, certainly not remarkable ones since moving to Mystic two years
before. Available, interesting men she felt attracted to weren’t exactly
swarming around the place, but she was still hopeful. The image of the gorgeous
stranger on the boat sent a shiver of lust through her body. Now
that
was a man she could easily be charmed by. But was he available? That,
unfortunately, would remain a mystery.
Just as Julia arrived in school her friend Sarah announced
by way of a greeting, “We’re having a potluck dinner party a week from
tomorrow.”
“Great!” Sarah’s gatherings were a lot of fun. Together with
her husband Mark, she always managed to have a surprise guest up their sleeve,
making their parties that much more entertaining. “What’s the occasion?”
“A welcoming party for a newcomer.”
Woo, woo, could it be him? “Who’s he?”
“Did I mention
he
?” Sarah teased.
Julia narrowed her eyes and Sarah laughed. “Who is this
person, then?”
“A writer from L.A.”
Julia’s eyes widened. “What’s a writer from L.A. doing in
Mystic?”
“Well, from what I understand
he
—” Sarah gave Julia a
meaningful, sidelong glance, “is going to write a book on his solo sailing trip
around South America.”
“No shit!” Could this L.A. writer and the man on the boat be
the same person?
Sarah laughed. “Well, bring your famous lasagna and come see
him for yourself.”
“Thank you, I will. What’s his name?”
“Ben Russell. He’s also a TV writer,” Sarah said, sounding
impressed. “Imagine a movie star here in Mystic!”
Julia smiled, amused by Sarah’s enthusiasm. A TV writer wasn’t
exactly the same as a movie star, but with the total absence of glamour any
person remotely connected with the glitterati of the movie industry would do.
“Where’s he staying?”
“He’s rented a house on Mason’s island where he apparently
plans to stay for as long as it takes to finish his book.”
Hmm, better and better. If only he was the man on the boat…single,
and interested in her.
Get real, Julia!
“How did you meet him?”
“I haven’t, actually. Mark handled the rental of the house
he’s in now,” Sarah explained. “They got to talk, one thing led to another and
my dear husband decided to be neighborly and invite him for our potluck dinner.”
Sarah’s lips curled inward.
“What’s the matter?”
“Mark said he’s not the easiest person to get to know. Very
secretive…” She rolled her eyes.
Good luck to him!Having been an outsider herself, Julia
knew exactly how nosy small-town folks could be.
They parted ways at Julia’s classroom door, but just as
Sarah began to turn away Julia remembered to ask, “Oh, Sarah, do you happen to
know who owns
Serenity
?”
Sarah stared at her blankly. “I’m afraid I don’t. Why?”
“Never mind.”
Not easily fooled, Sarah pressed on. “You’re not thinking it
could belong to our mystery writer, are you?”
“If only!”
Sarah lifted an eyebrow. “Oh? That hot, huh?”
Julia fanned her face in jest. “And then some.”
* * * * *
That same afternoon Julia drove to the train station to meet
her friend who was in from NYC for the weekend. Jen would be going to San
Francisco soon to visit their mutual friend Stephanie, now happily married to
Nick and expecting their first child. How she would have loved to accompanied
her, but with school in full swing that was just not possible. She’d wait until
the baby was born and visit them during her spring break.
As the water came into full view Julia automatically slowed
down before coming to a full stop. She got out of the car and took it all in—a
seal perched on a rock, the sun reflecting off the boat hulls bobbing in the
harbor and on the colonial houses lining the waterfront. The light breeze
ruffled her thick blonde hair and warmed her face and bare limbs. The good
weather wouldn’t last—autumn was just around the corner and temperatures would
soon plunge. In return, the magic of vibrant foliage would help her forget the
long winter that would inevitably follow.
Lost in her thoughts, she wasn’t aware of the car slowly
approaching until it was practically upon her. She hugged the curb and slowly
turned around.
Oh dear God!
Even at this distance she noticed the striking dark gaze,
the strong square cut of his jaw under a trimmed beard, and the hard set of his
mouth in a not-so-friendly face. Her heart jackhammered against her ribs,
reverberating through her head. Caught in the moment, she barely registered his
brief nod before he drove off, leaving her staring at the back of his car, her
body humming with excitement.
* * * * *
She saw him again the following Sunday. His boat sailed by
her house while she sat on her deck reading the paper, still in her shorts and
pajama top.
Hot damn!
The sight of him—mysterious and drop-dead
handsome—sent her stomach into a somersault. She couldn’t help but stare, her
nipples and pussy clenching as if he’d touched them.
When Fred barked and caught his attention, the man on the
boat turned toward the house and ogled her. She crossed her legs at the sudden
wetness between her thighs. Jesus, how she’d love to invite him in and get her
hands on all his gorgeousness! But he was already moving away and all she could
do was stare at his shapely ass.
And what an ass!
She rolled her eyes.
Jesus,
horny much?
Three times their paths had crossed. There had to be a
message there somehow. She reached for the paper and searched for her
horoscope. “Tonight’s Moon-Earth-Jupiter trine is one of the best for the
expression of love and understanding for couples.”
Ah, damn it! Now she’d be wondering what-if. That’s it, she
was going back to dating, and if she couldn’t harvest a man locally who kept
her interest, then she’d resort to online dating. Anything was better than her
dried-out single life.
Love and relationships had not turned out exactly as she had
imagined they would. The handsome prince whom, fueled by her storybooks, she
had dreamed of marrying in her earliest childhood had failed miserably to
materialize. But she had not stopped hoping he might. Maybe it was time she
did, and instead of looking for Mr. Right began looking for Mr. Right Now. That
evening, charged by her determination to change the course of her love life,
she decided to join her friends from the amateur theater group for a drink at
the bar next to the community center where their rehearsal had taken place. If
she was serious about dating then she’d better start showing up where couples
met.
The place was packed with fans of the local blues band
taking the stage as Julia’s group squeezed their way to the bar, and people
began moving to the dance floor. No chance of holding a conversation with the
music being so loud. Not a problem for her, she quite enjoyed watching couples
dance. Greg, a vet with a passion for the theater, thought otherwise and pulled
her to dance, where he kept her twirling and swinging the entire set.
She had a blast. By the time the band took a break her
cheeks were flushed, her blue eyes bright and her mouth twisted with mirth from
one of Greg’s jokes. Standing by the bar, her mystery man watched her
dispassionately.
So he’s still in town…
Her gaze drifted to the redhead talking to him.
Dammit,
he’s already found female company! How I wish it was me instead of Red
…
The evening nosedived from then on. It wasn’t long before
she agreed to give Greg a ride home and call it a night. Because she forced
herself not to look his way again, she never knew he’d stared after her as she
disappeared among the crowd.
* * * * *
The image of the gorgeous blonde with the long bangs framing
large blue eyes, and a body that kept him awake at night, persisted to crowd
his thoughts, annoying the hell out of him. He’d come to Mystic to write, not
to fantasize about local girls, even when they came in sexy, shapely packages.
Such distractions were not convenient, or welcome. But he had to admit it was
impossible not to dream of her perfectly proportioned oval face surrounded by a
cascade of silky blonde hair, or her curvaceous body moving sensually on the
dance floor. He could only imagine how good she’d be in bed, how hot her taut
body would feel under him as he sank deep into her. Jesus, would he stop
drooling over her? Mystic was a small community and if he messed around with
one of its citizens he could end up at the wrong end of a .32, or even worse—in
a relationship.
But he couldn’t help being curious, or wanting her. He’d
been intrigued from the moment he’d set eyes on her daydreaming at the side of
the road. And when he saw her that second time, wearing her pajamas and looking
ever so sexy, all he could think of was to take her back to bed and strip her
naked. With his teeth. The thought drew an involuntary snort from him. Too much
time alone at sea had affected his mind. And libido. But damn, the woman was
getting under his skin and he hadn’t even talked to her yet. Of course if she
turned out to be dull or dense, that would kill his fantasies for good.
He only hoped she was both.
* * * * *
With the lasagnas ready and all her other chores finished,
it was time to pamper herself. A bath and a glass of wine were just the ticket
to get her in the mood for the evening.
After adding a fragrance to the water, Julia eased herself
into the warm, scented bath.
Wonderful.
She shut her eyes and immersed
deeper. As soft music filtered in from the sitting room, her mind began to wander—from
the day’s events to what to wear and who would be at the party. She had thought
about the manon the boatall week, her dreams filled with a wild
lover with jet-black hair, dark beard and espresso-colored eyes that made her
think of pirates, kidnapping and sex on exotic beaches. A frisson of excitement
ran through her body. Ah, how she wished to meet him at Sarah’s.
It was with some trepidation she set off for the party a
couple of hours later. She entered the house through the back door and placed
the lasagnas on the kitchen counter. After exchanging a few words with Mark, who
was busy preparing drinks, she went in search of her friend.
“Julia! Come and meet our guest, Ben Russell,” Sarah said as
they walked toward each other.
It’s him.
Her heart slammed into her chest and her shoulders tensed
up. “Julia Chapman. Welcome to town,” she said, flashing him her big baby-blues
as they shook hands. His grip firm, almost possessive, sent a charge of heat
into her bloodstream.
“Thank you,” he said, the laser intensity of his black stare
scanning hers, jolting her into hurriedly retrieving her hand.
He was maybe a foot away from her but her awareness of him
was so strong her pulse leaped and a wave of heat shot through her body, making
her self-conscious and tongue-tied by how attracted she was to him. Panicking,
she realized if she didn’t say anything in the next ten seconds he would
forever think of her as a total moron. And he would be right.
“So,” she began with a tentative smile. “What attracted you
to the region?”
“The natives,” he said drily.
Was he being sarcastic? She couldn’t tell. His expression
gave nothing away.
“You dance well,” he said without the slightest trace of
flattery, and clueless to what his sexy voice did to her insides.
“Oh, you’ve met already!” Sarah said, glancing suspiciously
at Julia.
Four times.
“Not exactly, but we did cross paths a couple of times.” No
need to show how keen she was, best to keep it vague.
“Well, I’ll leave you to get acquainted while I go and check
how Mark is doing with the drinks,” Sarah said before she moved away.
“Do you dance?”
He smiled but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. Instead, it
curled in a twist of irony. “Not if I can help it.”
This meeting wasn’t going the way she’d envisioned. “How
come?” she muttered, hoping for a friendly answer.
He shrugged dismissively.
She sighed silently and paused to consider her next words.
Sarah was right. Getting to know Ben Russell was like writing one’s name on
granite—slow and painful. But they were at a party, for God’s sake, and talk was
what people did at such gatherings. Evidently not so for Mr. Big Shot from L.A.
More annoyed than disappointed, Julia decided to show him how it was done.
“You should try it sometime. It’s great fun.”
“Is it?” His cool expression told her exactly what he
thought of her suggestion.
Oh, he was so infuriating she was fast losing patience with
him. “Yes, especially when paired with the right partner.”
He lifted his glass and sipped, his intent gaze never
wavering from hers, and she found it difficult to swallow her own drink.
“Of course, the right partner…I knew there was a reason I
never danced,” he said, his dark gaze mocking, his mouth twitching into a
little smile. “Are you looking for a partner, Julia?”
“Why do you ask?”
Would you be my lover?
The thought
was in her mind even as she asked the question, though it came as a shock when
she read it in his eyes.