Writing Mr. Right

by T. K. Leigh

  A lightness in my heart, I scanned the area for him, finding him standing by the bar. About to make another attempt to lure him upstairs, I strode toward him, my head held high, when Daniel’s nasally voice made its way to my ears. I stopped in my tracks, my chest tightening as I watched him approach Noah.

  “So, you and Molly?” Daniel remarked over the sound of a jazz quintet playing standards. “That’s a thing?”

  “Yes, it is,” Noah responded.

  Daniel whistled. “Careful with that one.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked curtly.

  “I know Molly.” There was a sort of innuendo in his tone.

  “Aren’t you married?” Noah shot back, picking up on what he inferred.

  “My wife and I have an understanding. Sometimes you have to go elsewhere to satisfy your cravings, particularly when your wife is pretty vanilla in the bedroom. And Molly was certainly good for expanding my palate, but not for much else. That’s just the type of girl she is.”

  When he put up his hands defensively, I could only assume Noah shot daggers at him. At least I’d hoped he had. In truth, I would have much preferred Noah knee him in the balls, but he wasn’t the type to get into a fight surrounded by colleagues.

  “Listen, man. I don’t mean anything by it. I’m just looking out for you. I’ve known you a few years and have seen the women you date. Molly’s not it. I hope you don’t expect more than just a fun time in the sack. She’s not into relationships.”

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but things are different with us.”

  An ache building in my chest, I stepped closer, their voices becoming louder.

  “You can tell yourself that all you want. A whore can put on a nice dress and expensive jewelry, but at the end of the night, she’ll still fuck you for money. Like I’ve always said, some women you date, other women you fuck. I’ll let you decide which category the woman you think is your girlfriend falls into.”

  Unable to listen to any more, I spun on my heels, slipping out of the ballroom as inconspicuously as possible. I couldn’t help but think there was some truth to Daniel’s words. Maybe I was fooling myself to believe I could have a normal, healthy relationship with someone like Noah. Maybe I wasn’t the type of girl he should date.

  Stepping out of the lobby, I drew in a breath of the city air. It was a Saturday evening in late July and the downtown area swarmed with people in search of a good meal, a stiff drink, or something in the middle. I was in search of something, too. I just didn’t know what. Clarity? Answers? Reassurance?

  My brain playing Daniel’s words on repeat, I was lost in my mind as my legs carried me across the street and toward the Common. It was as if they were on autopilot, taking me exactly where I needed to be at that precise time. Just as they had done back in April when I ran into Noah in this very park. I came to a stop beneath the same exact tree and lowered myself onto a nearby bench.

  A sudden movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention and, just like that day all those weeks ago, I was treated to the sight of Noah running toward me. This time, he appeared frantic, agitated, worried.

  “Noah.” I shot up, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth. I hadn’t expected him to find me out here. I had every intention of going back to the gala. I just needed a minute to figure out how to make him see me as the woman he’d gotten to know the past few months, not the woman Daniel described to him. “How did you know where I was?”

  “I saw you leave the banquet room and tried to catch up to you. One of the women you met earlier, Karen, was out front having a cigarette and noticed you cross the street.” He shrugged. “Once I heard that, I had a feeling you’d be here.”

  “I guess this place kind of helps me think.”

  “About what?” He stepped toward me, worry etched on the lines of his face.

  “Us,” I answered honestly, then paused, avoiding his eyes. “I heard what Daniel said to you.” I peered at him, bracing myself for him to end all this.

  His expression softened. “He was just running his mouth, like a typical politician.”

  “Still defending my honor, are we, Dr. McAllister?” I asked in a small voice.

  “Always, Molly.” He took my hand in his and placed a soft kiss on my knuckles. “Always.”

  I met his benevolent gaze, losing myself in the sincerity within. Then I pulled away, lowering myself back to the bench, staring at what I’d been calling “our tree”.

  “There was some truth to what he said,” I admitted. Noah sat beside me, studying me. “Before you, I didn’t date. I guess I never saw the purpose in it. I had no desire to go through the hassle of getting to know someone when it would never work out. So I’d just have casual flings.”

  “Who hasn’t done that?” he argued. “Most adults I know go through that stage. It’s part of figuring out who you are as a person.”

  I cocked a brow. “Noah McAllister, I didn’t peg you for a player.”

  He shook his head, a blush building on his cheeks. “I wouldn’t call myself a player, but med school can be somewhat grueling. It was impossible to have a real relationship with someone, but I still needed to blow off some steam. A lot of my fellow med students did the same thing.”

  My tone turned serious once more. “I wasn’t in school, but I still had these arrangements.”

  “And Daniel was one of your arrangements?”

  “I had no idea he was married. I met him in a bar by City Hall,” I explained, leaving out the fact that I used him as a muse. “I thought he was handsome, mature.” I shook my head. “I couldn’t have been more wrong about him. One day, when I was at the Museum of Science with Drew and the girls, I saw him there with a woman and two little kids. Then I noticed a ring on his finger, which he never wore when he was around me. The next time we planned to get together, I confronted him and ended it. Apparently, no one’s ever told him no before.” I rolled my eyes. “Let’s just say he had some choice words for me. You got a little glimpse at what those were earlier.” I gestured across the street toward the hotel.

  “So that’s why you came out here?”

  “I guess I’m worried you’ll look at me differently now that you know the truth about my past. The Molly he knew is not the same Molly you know.”

  “I already know that.”

  “You do?”

  “Of course.” He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his chest and planting a soft kiss on the top of my head. “Do you think I’d toss away what we have just because some pompous asshole started throwing around accusations about the girl you used to be? I’m not that shallow. I get you have a past. So do I. I don’t care about any of that. Hell, one of your columns is titled ‘Confessions of a Serial Dater’. I knew what I was getting into when I started dating you, Molly.”

  I looked at him, cringing slightly. “See, that’s the thing. I didn’t really date these guys. We only got together to, ya know…”

  “That doesn’t matter,” he assured me. “Everything you’ve done in your life, including the guys you had these so-called arrangements with, led you to this very spot on that Saturday back in April. Miraculously, my past led me to this same exact spot. Anything that happened before that moment is inconsequential. The only thing that matters is the now. Nothing else. And right now, I just want you.”

  Clutching his cheeks in my hands, I brushed my lips with his, my body relaxing at the contact. “Even if you found out something horrible about me?”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know.” I pinched my lips. “Like maybe I had a strange fascination with clowns and had an entire room in my apartment devoted to the creepy fuckers.”

  “Then I’d get you a pair of clown shoes to add to your collection.”

  “What if I’m secretly one of those people on Hoarders and have an attic filled with animal carcasses?”

  “Then I’d hire a dump truck to clean all that stuff out so you can have a fresh start.”

  “But
what if I had horrible taste in music and made you listen to ‘80s power ballads around the clock?”

  “Molly, I already heard the story about you dancing around to Air Supply in your younger days, yet I’m still here.”

  I gave him an indignant look. “You can’t sit there and tell me you don’t enjoy the sultry tones of Russell and Graham.”

  He cringed. “I’m a bit scared you know their names.”

  I smiled, deciding now was the perfect moment to serenade Noah with a few bars from “All Out of Love”.

  “No! Stop!” He covered his ears, his face contorted in pain. It did nothing to dissuade me. I sang louder and with more conviction. Passersby stared, but I didn’t care. Noah tackled me so my back lay flat against the bench, but I still sang. “I can’t take it anymore!” he bellowed.

  Laughing uncontrollably, I finally stopped singing when I couldn’t recall any more of the lyrics. Noah loomed over me, his fingers brushing my forehead. His smile faded, a warmhearted expression covering his face as he seemed to study every inch of me.

  “Hey,” I breathed, the atmosphere between us turning charged.

  “Hey,” he responded.

  “I’m not wearing any underwear,” I reminded him.

  He groaned, burying his head in my neck. “Don’t you think I know that? That’s all I’ve been able to think about since you put them in my hand.”

  “Maybe it’s time you stopped thinking about it and actually did something about it.”

  His teeth skimmed my flesh, fire burning in its wake. “You know what, Miss Brinks?” He leaned back. “I do believe you’re right.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  EVERY INCH OF MY body was on high alert as Noah led me down the hallway on the top floor of the hotel, coming to a stop in front of the very last door on the right. Withdrawing a keycard from his wallet, he inserted it into the door. When it buzzed, he opened it, revealing a large living area, the lighting dimmed.

  Allowing me to enter in front of him, I walked past a lush sofa and reading chair, heading toward the windows. I took in the view of the Boston skyline. The lights of the city were magnificent from this high.

  Noah came up behind me, his breath hot on my skin. “Beautiful,” he murmured, snaking his arm around my waist and pulling me against him. I could feel his erection on my back.

  “It is, isn’t it?” I responded, leaning my head on his chest. I closed my eyes, lost in the feeling of his fingers delicately tracing over the silky material of my dress.

  “I was talking about you, Molly.” He swept my blonde curls away from my neck, exposing the sensitized flesh on my nape, my little hairs standing on end. A shiver ran through me, the tension that had been building all night making me feel as if I were ready to fall apart from even the most virtuous of Noah’s touches. “You’re beautiful.”

  He spun me around and, before I could respond, captured my mouth with a kiss. His tongue swept against mine, his motions measured, deliberate, resolved. He breathed into me, making me feel alive. I ran my hands through his dark, silky hair, playing with the little curls at the ends.

  His lips traveled from my mouth down my jawline, nibbling slightly. I craned my neck, giving him better access. He took my lobe between his teeth, his tongue tracing circles on the flesh behind my ear. My core lit on fire from the contact.

  “That’s the spot, isn’t it?” he murmured, his voice husky.

  “Yes.” I raked my fingers up and down his back. My mind was a blank slate…other than thinking we both wore too much clothing. “Let’s go to the bedroom,” I begged.

  “Not yet.” He placed his hand on my back and pressed me against him. “You promised me a dance.”

  “But there’s no music.”

  “There’s always music when you’re around.”

  I sighed, melting into his embrace. How could I deny him whatever he wanted when he said such endearing things? I’d never met a man who could be so romantic one minute, then tell me all the salacious and wanton things he wanted to do to me the next. And I loved every heartfelt and erotic word that fell from that suggestive tongue of his.

  He swayed his hips, and I followed his lead. This felt so natural, so right. Our two bodies moved together in perfect harmony, almost as if I knew what song was in his head…and heart.

  He began to hum, bringing a smile to my face. It was guttural, masculine, deep. When he finally put words to the music, I rested my head against his chest, lost in the drumming of his heart. Listening to him, enclosed in his embrace, made my soul happy.

  “‘Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered’?” I raised a brow. “Any reason for this choice in song?”

  “It seemed fitting for how I feel about you…” He leaned closer. “Completely and unmistakably bewitched.”

  I met his eyes, swallowing hard. “Do you remember the first time we danced together?”

  His movements grew bigger and more assured as he spun and swayed with me through the suite. I marveled at how well he danced, then I remembered he had four sisters. I was certain he’d been forced to dance with them more than he’d like to admit.

  “How can I forget?” He licked his lips. “You wore a stunning red dress. Your perfume smelled of lilacs and baby powder. All I could think was how much I wanted to kiss you and how unfair life was that this beautiful, remarkable woman I could never have would cross paths with me. I went to sleep that night dreaming about what your lips would taste like, thinking I’d never have the chance to taste them myself.” His words took the breath from me. “I never could have imagined they’d taste as sweet and perfect as they do.”

  Our lips locked as he expertly led me into the bedroom, one hand placed on my lower back and the other tangled in my hair, supporting my head. It was such an insignificant little detail, but it showed how much he truly did treasure me. With all the other men, there was no passion, no hunger, no romance. I never wanted it. But with Noah, I had all that and more; however, it still wasn’t enough to satisfy my cravings.

  “Your lips are so soft,” he hummed, tracing a thumb against my mouth. “I can’t get enough of them. So sweet. So intoxicating. So mesmerizing.”

  “Holy shit.” I quivered, arching my body into his. “I think I just came from your words alone.”

  “I’m glad to know I can turn you on,” he said coyly.

  “You do more than turn me on, Noah. You make me feel like I’ve been stranded in the desert for days without a drink. Now that the mirage of a fountain is so close, I’m desperate for it.” I raised myself onto my toes. “I’m desperate for you.” I ran my tongue across his neck, inhaling his heady aroma.

  “You’ll have me. Seduction is an art, a science. One that should not be rushed.” His lips hovered over mine, the light tingle of his breath on my skin sending tremors through me. I’d never felt so ready to fall over the edge in my life.

  He spun me around, gingerly lowering the zipper of my dress. He peppered kisses across my shoulder blades. “Michelangelo took his time painting his masterpiece on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, just like I’m taking my time with you.” He skillfully tugged the straps of my dress down my arms. The heat of his fingers on my skin sent a current through me. “When I’m through with you, I want to be the only thing you think about for weeks.” My dress fell from my hips, pooling at my feet. “When you shower, I want you wishing I were there with you.” His hands roamed my body as I stood naked…except for my jewelry and shoes. “When you fall asleep, I want you to imagine me beside you.”

  I leaned my head back against his chest, lost in the sensation of his hands and erotic tongue. My heart rate increased as his fingers skirted my stomach, slowly and leisurely making their way farther south. I tried to squirm away but he pulled me against him, keeping me blissfully locked in place. The instant he touched me between my legs, I feared I would shatter into tiny pieces.

  His breath danced on my neck, making my core ache. His hand continued roaming past my waist. My chest heaved, the heat of hi
s skin so close unraveling me. He pressed his mouth against the crook of my neck. “When you touch yourself, I want you to be thinking about all the things I did to you tonight.”

  Before I could react, his fingers found my center. Every nerve ending in my body fired at the same time. I thrust against his hand, a slave to my pleasure.

  “God, I’ve wanted to do this all night.” His voice turned harsh, brutal, his motions becoming more unyielding. My lips parted and I released a noiseless gasp. “All evening, all I could think about was how easy it would be to slip my hand under the table and make you come.”

  “Why didn’t you?” I shifted my legs farther apart, chasing the orgasm I saw in my sights.

  “Because no one gets to see how fucking beautiful you look when you come except me, Molly. I want every single one of your orgasms, including this one.”

  He slipped a finger inside and I clenched around him, my cries of relief echoing in the luxurious bedroom. His carnal words and tone turned me on in a way I hadn’t expected. Noah was right. Seduction was an art, and he was a fucking master.

  I spun around and crushed my mouth against his. I feverishly lowered his tuxedo jacket down his arms, then struggled with the buttons of his dress shirt. He grabbed my wrists, preventing me from ripping his clothes from his body.

  “Patience,” he crooned in a sly voice. He raised my arms over my head, locking his lips with mine. He pushed me toward the bed. When my knees hit the mattress, he released his hold on my wrists, supporting my back as he lowered me to it. Kicking my heels off, I scooted up toward the headboard, keeping my eyes glued to Noah’s.

  He licked his lips and loosened his bowtie, then unbuttoned his shirt at a laborious pace. He knew I was on edge, desperate to feel him, yet his motions remained unhurried. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he shrugged out of his shirt and I was treated to the sight of Noah’s defined chest. I couldn’t believe this exquisite man was all mine. Noah was the complete package. Not only was he quite nice to look at, he had a beautiful heart.