The Woman He Wanted (Excerpt)

If you have read Angels and Assassins, this is the excerpt that was at the end of the book. If you haven’t read Angels and Assassins, what are you waiting for?



(FYI: I haven’t fully edited this yet)

The woman he wanted was right in front of him, standing across the street in the middle of a heavy late-night shower. Her hair was stuck to her face and her dress was equally as plastered. A pair of red pumps hung from the tips of her fingers as she stood in the center of the parking lot outside the hospital. She was as still as an oil painting, and the matching red glare of her dress ignited the landscape like a wildfire blazing through a drought-ridden forest.

Kellen approached her, making his presence evident so that he didn’t startle her. Her wet brown skin glittered like diamonds as beams of moonlight hit the droplets. The dress was tight, date-night tight, and he shoved away an unnatural urge of jealousy when he thought about any man but him giving this woman the attention she deserved.

He’d assumed that he would forever be relegated to seeing her at the Starbucks on the corner near his office where she worked as a barista. She would smile when saw him walk in, point to him, and then rattle off his order as he neared the counter: “a grande, medium roast, nothing fancy, for the doc.”

She’d then write his name on the cup, adding a little heart at the end, and he’d been seconds away from asking her for her number until he saw it—another man with his name on his cup, the same heart punctuating the “Chris” scribbled in her handwriting.

He wasn’t the man who stopped at coffee shops every single morning just to see a woman’s face, no matter how drop dead gorgeous he found her. But, she made him feel odd. Weird. Sixteen.

She made him…nervous.

He never got nervous, at least not since his balls had dropped and the braces had come off, but he found himself lapsing into a mangled mix of his native languages whenever he tried to talk to her about something other than coffee. Sometimes even just trying to say the words “good morning” came out as though the words had grown necks and were being choked to death.

Now, he was two feet in front of her and she still hadn’t wavered. The rain was nowhere near light, but she stood in the middle of it as though it was a brief afternoon shower.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, extending his umbrella over her head. “Want to come inside?”

Her head slowly ticked to him. Mascara lines streaked her face, nowhere near potent enough to mar what he personally considered an excellent combination of attractive features.

Lightning crawled through the sky like electric spider webs. Suddenly, the lamps in the parking lot sparked and went out, blanketing them in thick darkness.

“I can’t…” she began, but then she started to choke as though the remaining words had somehow become lodged in her throat.

He would apologize later for what he was about to do, but he fitted his hands against the back of her knees and lifted her until she fell into his grasp. He raced towards the hospital doors and challenged inquisitive stares as he walked her through the lobby and up to his office.

Once inside, he fished one of his spare work shirts from a closet built into the wall and handed it to her. Her movements were still mechanical, but she took the shirt from his hand and reached for the zipper on her dress, pulling it down. Then, she stepped out of the dress right in front of him and unhooked her bra. By the time he turned around to give her some privacy, the soft orbs and mahogany areolas had already been imprinted by his optic nerve.

He waited a few moments before slowly facing her again. His shirt hung from her shoulders in a way that couldn’t have been more seductive even in his dreams. It was still unbuttoned, giving him a glimpse of the arcs of her breasts peeking from the edges and a full view of her mons, sprinkled by a light dusting of curls.

She walked over to him, beautiful mascara-stained face and all, grabbed his hand and slid his finger between her legs. The wetness that bathed his finger had not come from the rain outside.

“What do you want to do now that we’re alone?” she asked, her voice husky in a way that, of course, he would find sexy on this woman.

There she was, the woman that he wanted, virtually naked in front of him and sliding his finger closer to her entrance. So, he did the only thing he knew to do.

Comments are closed.

Website Powered by

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: