LEAD ME ON by Julie Ortolon (find a book to read TXT) 📕

actually cook that meat loaf, or leave it sitting on the counter all evening?”

Fuming, she slid it into the oven, and went to the refrigerator to decide on what vegetables to cook. If her brother was right, that men had been avoiding her all these years because they thought she was after marriage, they were all dead wrong.

The sound of a car door slamming woke Alli during the night. She was used to guests coming and going at all hours, and had learned to roll over and go right back to sleep. Then she remembered: Scott and Linda. They’d left early in the evening, both of them dressed for a night on the town.

Against her will, Alli lay there listening. With the house so close to sea level, the basement was mostly above ground, allowing for windows. Her window was situated beneath the veranda, so she had no trouble hearing the footsteps on the oyster-shell walkway, followed by feminine laughter.

“What a crazy night,” Linda Lovejoy said. “Wasn’t it crazy?”

“It was that,” Scott’s deep voice answered. “But right now, I think we need to move this little party upstairs.”

“Oh no, not yet. Let’s dance. Come on, don’t you want to dance with me in the moonlight?”

“Actually, what I really want to do is get you into bed.”

“I just bet you do.” Throaty laughter floated on the night air, followed by silence.

Allison lay perfectly still, trying not to picture what was going on right outside. Unfortunately she could imagine it all too clearly: the two of them locked in a passionate embrace. What would it feel like to be kissed by Scott Lawrence? To run her hands freely over his hard body. To have his hands move up her back so he could bury his fingers in her hair, or down to cup her bottom and hold her tightly to him ...

Dr. Lovejoy murmured something low and hungry sounding, and Allison felt her insides stir.

“Another time, perhaps,” Scott said. “Let’s get you upstairs and into bed?”

“I don’t wanna go to bed. I wanna go skinny-dipping.”

“Up we go.” Shoes scraped on the stone steps to the veranda. “Whoa, let’s wait until we get upstairs before you undress, okay?”

“Okay.”

She heard the opening and closing of the front door, the light tapping of Linda’s shoes, the heavier thud of Scott’s boots, then the sounds faded. Would they go to his room, or hers?

Images flashed through Allison’s mind of naked bodies moving together on tangled sheets. She rolled to the side, pressing her thighs together to ease the aching in her loins. But the fantasies still came—Scott’s hands on her own bare skin, his mouth moving over her breasts. Her hands touching every inch of him she could reach. She’d tried so hard to squelch such thoughts, to not think about sex, but there were times the act was so vivid in her mind she felt as if it were actually happening.

Did men honestly think she never had such thoughts? Never felt her insides turn hot and liquid as she imagined the feel of a man thrusting deep inside her? She would have to be abnormal to never think about it. Did they really believe her so pure of mind she’d be affronted if they mentioned such things in her presence? Or, heaven forbid, asked her to participate?

She was not pure of mind at all. She thought about sex a lot, yearned for it to the point of physically aching. But she’d never sought to relieve that yearning, because she’d feared the greater pain of a broken heart. She knew too well how it felt to lose someone she loved, or to trust and have that trust destroyed. She would rather do without love completely than ever risk that kind of devastation again.

But what if Scott and Adrian were right? What if a woman could detach herself emotionally to satisfy her physical longings for the sheer pleasure of it? What if she could ease the constant ache to feel a man’s touch, without risking her heart?

She lay in the dark, considering the idea, and imagining herself upstairs in Scott Lawrence’s bed.

Chapter 5

Gawd, Scott thought, thirty-two years old and already an old man. Lying on the beach towel, flat on his back, he didn’t even care that the sun was burning through his eyelids in a red haze. If he lay there long enough, maybe the heat would burn away his hangover and the memory of last night.

The hangover was mild, barely even noticeable now that he’d guzzled some coffee from the upstairs sideboard and taken a dip in the cove. Unfortunately he’d missed breakfast, but probably couldn’t have faced Allison anyway after his rudeness yesterday. As for the memories ... He scrunched his face in an effort to block them. Sometimes he thought life should be like writing, so you could go back and edit a scene that didn’t work the way you’d hoped. Or, better yet, delete the scene completely.

One of the first things he’d rewrite was everything he’d said to Allison when she’d come to his room. He’d spent half the evening distracted by thoughts of whether or not to apologize. He owed her one, no doubt, but in order to give it to her, he’d have to talk to her. Just the thought of being in the same room with her made his pulse pound, so not a good idea.

“Hey, there,” someone called.

He snapped his head up, fearing it was Allison. Instead he saw Linda Lovejoy in a swimsuit cover-up coming down the azalea-lined path that led from the inn to the private cove. He stifled a groan. As much as he didn’t want to see Allison, he wanted to see this woman even less, but for entirely different reasons.

Physically, Dr. Lovejoy was attractive enough, but as long as he was rewriting yesterday, the second thing he’d edit out were the tattooed dragons that covered the woman’s upper back and shoulders. He’d seen enough of