Baby, Come Back by M. O’Keefe
A MAN WITH NOTHING LEFT TO LOSE
I sold my soul a long time ago to pay my father’s debts. Now my life is a prison: no friends. No family. Nothing it would hurt to lose.
I never should’ve touched Abby. I tried not to, but she is beautiful, magnetic, sexy. Everything I want but can’t let myself have.
UNTIL HE MET HER
She seduced me not knowing who I was or what I really do in the shadows. I should have resisted her, but I wanted to be the man Abby thought I was for as long as I could.
But all debts must be paid, sooner or later. And mine are paid with blood.
Now Abby knows who I am, what I am, and she’s run from me.
I would have let her go for her own good. But when I find out she’s carrying my baby — there’s nowhere she can hide…
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I’m not smart about a lot of things, but I know chemistry. Not the stuff in schools, with the beakers and everything; that’s a total gong show for me. I didn’t even get to Chemistry in high school because I was stuck in freshman Physical Science for four years. Thank God we got a new teacher my senior year, otherwise I never would have passed. Out went Mrs. Baker and in came handsome young Mr. Suarez.
Mr. Suarez did not stand a chance against me.
That he didn’t give me an A was probably the thing he clung to at night when the guilt got to be too much for him.
Mr. Suarez was a lesson in my kind of chemistry.
The kind that bubbles out of thin air between two particular people. The irresistible attraction that sweeps strangers up in a current, bringing them together despite anything in the way. The kind of chemistry that changes everything.
That’s something I understand, down to the ground.
It’s my job, really. Or understanding it is what makes me good at my job.
Knowing when someone is looking my way a little bit longer than necessary, and how to manipulate it and feed it and then turn that into money—it’s my one skill.
And I’m fucking amazing at it.
Knowing the men to avoid and the women to befriend—it’s like a superpower. Chemistry is the secret that turns the world around.
It’s chemistry that gets shit done.
Like an idiot, I thought I knew attraction inside out, from every angle—when you only have one skill, you tend to lean on it pretty hard.
But then I met Jack.
And it wasn’t love at first sight—that’s for children and idiots. For people who don’t fuck their high school science teacher just so they can pass a class.
It wasn’t even fear at first sight. That came much later.
But it was chemistry, so much chemistry my whole world blew up.
And me with it.
“You need anything?” I asked above the sound of the crowd and the band.
He shook his head.
“A drink or whatever?”
Still he didn’t look at me. He kept scanning the crowd like I wasn’t there.
“Who do you think you’re kidding?” I asked with a laugh that finally got his attention. “Yeah,” I said. “You’ve been staring at me all night.”
He looked at me again, a sly second, a bright moment and I felt the shimmy of interest, the cat curl of desire.
Oh, you man, you don’t know it yet. But you are mine.
“Part of my job,” he said, pretending that there was something more interesting than me happening over my shoulder when we both knew that there wasn’t.
But I liked the show of it, the game.
“Watching me is part of your job?”
“Watching everyone.” Oh, he was telling me I wasn’t special. Except I was. I was pretty fucking special.
“Your loss,” I said and walked back into the crowd to do my job.
Trouble, a voice whispered in my head. A voice that sounded very much like my sister’s. This man is trouble and you know it. You feel it.
But wasn’t that the problem?
I loved trouble.
Snippet #3 NSFW
My moan was a garbled what and more combined, and he seemed to understand my stupid language because he gave me more. His lips found my neck and my head fell sideways, my legs spread wider, and he rolled my clit under his finger like it was a pebble. The bottom of my foot began to burn, some random nerve going berserk, and his tongue traced the curve of my ear, and somehow it was all enough.
It was barely anything really. His tongue and the touch of his finger, but I felt myself about to come. The great wave of a rogue orgasm spreading out through my body and then—
“What?” I breathed, my eyes open to find him a few inches from me. So intent. So dark and wild. “Why did you stop?”
“You’re so beautiful,” he said. “Just like this. Just on the edge.” He touched me again, his finger against my clit as if to hold me there.
“Please,” I breathed. This game was not unfamiliar, but I’d never been so willing a player in it. I’d said these words before but now, in this increasingly cold car, with this sometimes cold man, I meant them down to my blood vessels.
“And now,” he said, with a slice of a smile. “You beg me. How did I get this lucky?”
I would fall to my knees in front of this man. I—in fact—could not wait to do it.
“Please,” I moaned. “It hurts.”
Molly O’Keefe has always known she wanted to be a writer (except when she wanted to be a florist or a chef and the brief period of time when she considered being a cowgirl). And once she got her hands on some romances, she knew exactly what she wanted to write.
She published her first Harlequin romance at age 25 and hasn’t looked back. She loves exploring every character’s road towards happily ever after.
Originally from a small town outside of Chicago, she went to university in St. Louis where she met and fell in love with the editor of her school newspaper. They followed each other around the world for several years and finally got married and settled down in Toronto, Ontario. They welcomed their son into their family in 2006, and their daughter in 2008. When she’s not at the park or cleaning up the toy room, Molly is working hard on her next novel, trying to exercise, stalking Tina Fey on the internet and dreaming of the day she can finish a cup of coffee without interruption.
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