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Ben tugged her zipper open with his teeth
Taylor thought she had died and gone to heaven. It was unbelievably erotic to have him on the floor in front of her, knowing he could touch her anywhere, do anything. He kissed her right below her belly button, and she whimpered in pure surrender.
“Oh, God,” he whispered, just before he licked the expanse of flesh above her lace panties.
Oh, no. The thought of where he was going, what he was going to lick next, made her hot. She wanted him to hurry, to rip off the rest of her clothes and throw her on the bed.
Restlessly she put her hands on his head and ran her fingers through his dark hair. “Stand up, please.”
Ben looked up and smiled. “Are you sure?” At her nod, he got up from his knees, kissed her hard. Let his body lean against her and she felt his erection through his soft jeans.
He gazed at her. “Why did we wait so long?”
She laughed. “We just got here last night.”
“Ten years,” he said. “I missed too much.”
Her hand went to his face where she traced his lips. “I’m here now. And we definitely need to make up for lost time….”
Dear Reader,
Oh, what a special book this is to me! The story, while fictional, is based in part on something that happened to me….
Twenty-five years ago (argh!) I met the man of my dreams. He was everything I ever wanted in a guy. Only, the romance ended after a few years. Ended badly. But I never did get over him. He was The One Who Got Away, and it took me a long time to make peace with the fact that I’d never meet a man who could compare.
Flash forward twenty years, and bless the Internet. Because guess who found me? You got it. The One! We talked, and talked…and three months later, we moved in together. He’s no longer the one who got away, but he’s still The One!
So that’s how Taylor and Ben came about. Although the details are different, the incredible gift of finding (and keeping!) a lost love are just the same.
Affectionately yours,
Jo Leigh
The One Who Got Away
Jo Leigh
MILLS & BOON
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To Lawrence: The One Who (Almost) Got Away!
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Prologue
To: The Gang at Eve’s Apple
From Taylor
EvesApple.com
Subject: BEN!!!!!
If you’re looking for something soft, you won’t find it in Ben’s face. Not at first.
He is all hard lines and sharp angles. The cheekbones, of course. The stuff of dreams. Improbable. Dangerous. Unforgettable. The cheekbones make you look at his eyes, give you no choice. They’re dark and knowing. Too knowing. Which makes you look away, but not for long. The focus shifts to his lips. The upper is thin, but there. The pouty lower makes up for it. And when the corners of his lips curve up in that slight smile, when those eyes take you in from the toes up, when he flicks his dark, straight, too-long hair back with a hand, there’s nothing to do but surrender. Give it up. Lie down, whether you’re near a bed or not.
That’s Ben. My first lover. My best lover. Might as well have been my only lover. Because it’s been ten years, and I can’t get that face out of my head.
Every man I’ve dated, from that gorgeous Richard Gere-like attorney to that race-car driver from Atlanta has failed the Ben Test. Not that I even realized there was such a thing, but now that I know I’m going to see Ben again, I finally get it. I see what he’s done to me.
So, my fellow Eve’s Apple Compatriots, my sisters in righteous conquests who seek the perfect Men To Do before we say I Do…I hereby declare that Ben Bowman, the man of the exquisite cheekbones, of the mesmerizing dark eyes, is my official MAN TO DO.
I, Taylor Hanson, am going to spend one week with the aforementioned Mr. Bowman, in, appropriately enough, Las Vegas, Sin City, while attending my brother’s wedding. I will, without fail, get Ben “Cheekbones” Bowman into my bed, and then I will see, with my very own eyes, that regardless of cheekbones, of knowing eyes, and wicked smiles, Bowman is just a guy. Like a bunch of other guys. Not a God, not an icon, not the King of the Stud Muffins.
I was only eighteen.
