Chemistry of Desire. Melanie Schuster

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Chemistry of Desire - Melanie Schuster


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from the one Emily was using. He tried valiantly not to think about what she was doing in the other bathroom, but it was impossible. Now that he knew what she looked like under the loose, often baggy clothes that she usually wore, his whole perspective of her had changed. He’d always thought of her as ubersmart, funny and cute as hell, but now he knew the real deal. Emily was a true banger with brains, and it was a dangerous combination. To punish himself for the lustful turn his thoughts were taking, he turned the water to full-on cold, but it didn’t help a bit. The erection he’d gotten from thinking about Emily doubled in size in pure defiance.

      “Thanks a lot, friend,” he mumbled as he turned the water off. “That’s just what I need. I’ve already spied on the woman, and now I’m entertaining thoughts of lust. You need to calm down before you make me do something I’ll regret later.” Although he couldn’t imagine regretting anything he did with Emily. She was so different from the airheaded sexpots he usually wound up with. Anything that transpired between him and Emily would be pure pleasure. He had just finished toweling himself dry when his cell phone rang. He groaned when he saw the number on his caller ID, because it belonged to a woman he had no desire to speak with ever again. He ignored the phone and finished his grooming so he could see what Emily was doing. Whatever it was, it was bound to be as interesting as she was.

      Emily took a last look in the mirror before going down to the kitchen. She’d gotten all the shampoo out and put on the leave-in conditioner her sister had forced on her the last time they were together. Makeup and other girly things weren’t high on Emily’s list of priorities, but she finally agreed with Ayanna on conditioner and a few other basics like clear lip gloss. Her wardrobe was still more functional than feminine, though. She had a vast array of T-shirts and knit tops that she wore with denim for leisure and khakis for work, but that was about it. Even now she was wearing shorts and a tank top with a pair of flip-flops. She looked clean and plain. If she had on some cute earrings or something it might help upgrade her image, but she didn’t bring any with her.

      “What you see is what you get,” she said with a slight frown. She tossed her long, heavy hair over her shoulder and went down to the kitchen to see if there was anything she could make for dinner. The refrigerator door was wide open and she was inspecting the contents when Todd’s voice startled her. Two tomatoes hit the floor as he asked if there was anything he could to do to help.

      “You can quit sneaking up on me! I’m going to put a bell on you,” she said with a frown. “Learn to make some noise when you come into a room.”

      “I didn’t mean to scare you, again,” he said with the dazzling smile that made her weak in the knees. “How about I take you out to dinner to make up for it?”

      “Well, I was going to make something, but if you want to eat out, we can.”

      “Wait a minute, you’re offering home cooked food? Maybe I should think this over. How good of a cook are you?” He leaned against the counter and continued to show her his dazzling white perfect teeth in his devilish smile.

      It was her turn to smile as she answered him. “I cook by the decimal system,” she replied.

      “I’m not familiar with that,” he admitted.

      “I can make ten of most things. Ten kinds of cake, ten kinds of sandwiches, ten kinds of salad, you get my drift. I cook basics, like chicken. But I know ten ways to fix it.”

      “That’s, um, different.”

      Emily shrugged. “Everybody should know how to feed themselves. Ten seemed to be a good number to master. Anything less is boring and anything more is superfluous. So I can fix eggs ten ways. Same with potatoes, tomatoes and just about anything else.”

      Todd laughed. “Practical and creative, a woman after my own heart. And as much as I’d like to sample some of your decimal kitchen stylings, I’d be less than a gentleman if I didn’t take you out. You do like seafood, don’t you?”

      Emily made a little face. “I love it, but I’m not really dressed to go out. And I can’t go change, because I didn’t bring anything fancy with me. I don’t actually own anything fancy, except the dress I wore in Ayanna’s wedding,” she said with a hint of defiance.

      “So? You look fine to me, and I wasn’t thinking about anything fancy. I kinda pictured a dive bar with good food and ice-cold beer. Is there anything like that around here?”

      Emily grinned. “If that’s what you want, I have just the place for you. Let’s go.”

      “This is just what I had in mind,” Todd said approvingly. “Good music, cold beer and great food. And the atmosphere is perfect.”

      They were seated next to the windows that ran the length of the long, narrow dining room of Fishy’s Roadhouse. The walls and floors were of the same weathered wood. The tables were a mixture of old wood and fifties Formica, with worn vinyl chairs. Old license plates and Burma-Shave ads were on the walls, along with stuffed fish and other oddities. A big jukebox was near the bandstand, and “Use Somebody” by the Kings of Leon was playing. The staff wore bowling shirts and jeans, and the total effect was laid-back and cheerful. The food was exceptional, and they had polished off a pile of crab legs and lobster with corn bread, coleslaw and fries. They had also shared a huge slab of pecan pie with Fishy’s homemade ice cream.

      Todd was enjoying himself tremendously. Emily was totally unselfconscious while she ate, and she ate like a real person, not like the women he dated. They were the salad brigade, women who avoided carbs and red meat and desserts, all the things that made life worth living. Emily had a beautiful body, and she seemed to treat it very well without starving herself. In his experience, a woman who enjoyed the pleasure of eating enjoyed other pleasures as well. From what he could see, Emily was a very sensual lady in all ways. She had a heart-shaped face with rich brown skin that looked as if it would be soft and smooth to touch. Her thick eyebrows were natural, like her eyelashes. That was one of the things he really liked, the fact that she wasn’t plastered with makeup. And her smile was just as sexy as she was, with big dimples that bracketed her full, moist lips.

      “I’m glad you like this place. I come here all the time when I’m on Hilton Head,” she told him. “It’s really good in October when the stone crab claws are in season. You can only get them in Florida, but the owner has a relative there and he gets some a few times during the season. They’re wonderful, my favorite food.”

      “How often are you able to get to Hilton Head?” he asked.

      “Not as often as I’d like. When I’m not at the university, I’m still busy with community work, like my summer science camp. Or I’m going somewhere else to work. I was in Haiti after the earthquake. I was in New Orleans after Katrina. I never know where I’m going to be,” she said. “Recreation gets pushed to the back of the line when it comes to my schedule.”

      Todd was impressed but curious. “What do you do when you’re working in disaster areas? How does your background in biochemistry lend itself to, um…?”

      Emily smiled at the way Todd was struggling to word his question. “Don’t worry. I’m not experimenting on people or anything. Not too many people know that I’m a medical doctor as well as being a Ph.D. I volunteer for Doctors Without Borders. I usually spend my vacation traveling for the organization.”

      “Dang girl, you put me to shame,” Todd said with obvious sincerity. “Okay, I don’t understand how a woman like you is still single. Are you sure there isn’t some big jealous guy who’s gonna come looking for you and try to split my skull? You are probably the most accomplished person I’ve ever met,” he said with eyes full of admiration.

      Emily gave him a slight side eye. “That’s the kind of question a woman would ask, Todd. You sound like you don’t know much about your own species. When has career accomplishment ever been a criterion for male attraction?”

      Todd looked surprised at her blunt tone. “Well, now that all depends on the man. Some men like prime rib and some like burgers,” he began.

      Emily held up her hand as


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