The Soul Mate Page 2

“You don’t get it, do you?”

“That you discovered the holy grail of pussy? The pussy to rule them all? The fucking one pussy that obliterates all the rest of the pussy?” Trent snorted. “I get it, I just don’t buy it.” He shoved a hand through his thick, dark hair. “There are plenty of girls out there. I could even set you up with one of Kayla’s sisters if you would just—”

“No, I’m going to find this girl.” I clenched my fists, then blew out a ragged sigh. “It’s just going to take a little more work than I expected.”

I already knew I was spinning my wheels in vain trying to explain her to a guy like Trent. For him, every woman he dated was the same—a chance to get laid and, if he was lucky, have a good time before, during, and for a little while after. Maybe.

For me? It wasn’t so easy.

Don’t get me wrong. I could have just about any woman I wanted. That wasn’t a cocky thing, either. It was just…well, the truth. Ever since I’d been old enough to know how sex worked, I’d been able to find willing partners, but for me relationships were about more than just a quick roll in the hay. Becoming a doctor hadn’t hurt the situation, and loving women on the whole didn’t hurt me any either.

And still, I wanted something more. Now that I was getting older…

Well, that something more seemed to be getting more and more important all the time. This girl had blown my fucking mind in the best possible way. She’d been gorgeous, of course. But she’d been funny, and smart, and unexpected. I’d gone to sleep totally satisfied and stoked to tell her exactly that in the morning, only to find she’d ghosted.

Gone, without a word or a note, even.

Trent slapped his knees and pushed himself from the couch before making his way to my fridge and pulling out a bottle of water. He twisted the cap off, took a slug, then eyed me over the bottle. “Okay, fine. I give. What’s so special about this one, besides the steel trap of a pussy, that is?”

I cocked my head. “That’s the thing. I can’t put my finger on it. I mean, the sex was…”

There were no words for the sex.

From the moment I’d first kissed her, I’d been completely absorbed, lit with the need for more—to touch her, smell her, and breathe her in. It was more than chemistry—it was sheer animal connection, and I knew, even from that first, innocent kiss, that she could feel it too. Our connection was unlike anything I’d ever felt.

“It couldn’t have been that good if she snuck out of here while you were still asleep. You’d think she’d want round two, right?” Trent shrugged. “Face it, maybe she’s just not that into you.”

“See, this is what you’re not getting. She was into me. She was perfect.” I shook my head.

Of course, I didn’t blame Trent for not understanding. Odds were that he’d never been with a woman who looked at him the way Bren had looked at me on our date—like every word I said mattered to her. Like I mattered to her. In a way, it reminded me of the way my mother spoke to and looked at my father—like nothing in the world was more important than that other person.

And that connection had been only the starting point. It stretched even further when I’d kissed her, like the push and pull between our bodies was one we’d done a million times before but was still exciting and new. She’d shivered when I touched her, and when I turned her around to unzip her dress…

“Exactly. She was perfect. That’s why she wasn’t interested in you.” Trent grinned and I chucked a pillow at his stupid face.

“But seriously, dude,” he pressed on. “What are you going to do, just wait for her to knock on your door? You’ve already looked everywhere. It’s time to give it a rest and try again. There are plenty of fish in the sea. And seriously, I’ve never seen you like this and you’re starting to freak me out.”

He rejoined me on the couch and I glanced at the TV for a second, thinking over his words.

It was true. When it came to women, I had…well…a history would probably be the most polite way to put it. But that wasn’t technically my fault either.

I was raised with one belief, taught to me by my parents and reinforced by their actions toward each other—when you found the right person, you knew. With that one right person, all the trials and tribulations of life became easier.

And me? I wasn’t going to stop until I’d found Mrs. Right.

So, I’d experimented. A lot.

“If you’d had sex like this with a woman like this, you would be acting the same way,” I said, fully confident in my words.

“At this point I’m starting to think her vagina was made of solid gold,” Trent said. “What did she do? Blow bubbles out the damn thing?”

I laughed. “It was good, man. Best sex of my life. Hot and intense, and that fucking mouth—”

“Right. Well, special as it sounds, it’s time to move on. Got it?” Trent took another sip of his water and I nodded, though it was purely in the interest of placating him.

In truth, I didn’t think there was a damn thing in the world that could make me stop looking for the mysterious Bren.

Even now, a week after the fact, my mind’s favorite place to wander was the memory of her perfect, cherry-tipped tits and her smooth, pale skin. Her silky blond hair between my fingers. Her responsive, writhing body.

And, of course, the taste of her pussy as I’d laved my tongue over her straining clit.

At this point, even her name was enough to get me hard as a rock. But it wasn’t enough—none of it was.

Because I was going to find Bren.

And when I did?

I was sure as shit going to make her mine.

Chapter Two


I’d done it. I felt like high-fiving myself.

Whistling the tune of “Baby Got Back” as I washed flecks of poo down the drain, nothing could dampen my mood.

I’d had a one-night stand—a damn good one, in fact—and like a mature, responsible woman, I’d kept the no-strings promise I’d made to myself. Booyah. Smiling again, I felt proud of myself. And satisfied in a way I hadn’t been in a long time.

It was only normal that my mind had wandered to Mason a few times throughout each day over the past two weeks. It was the only sexual experience I’d had in what felt like a decade, and so it was natural that I’d want to replay it—my own personal highlight reel, something to remember fondly and enjoy when I was in bed, alone at night.

“Why are you in such a good mood?” Mandy asked, peeking into the gorilla’s night house.

Hosing down one last oversized log, I turned and shut off the water. “Hey, lady. How was vacation?”

Mandy was five-foot-nothing of pure sass and sarcasm. I loved her. She was technically my boss, but it never felt that way. I was grateful for her friendship and all the guidance she’d given me both at work and in my personal life.

Mandy smirked and me and shook her head. “I’ll tell you all about our trip in a minute. When you bring two toddlers on a plane, it’s not a vacation—it’s a trip. But first, you’re going to tell me why you seem positively enthralled to be cleaning up shit. Isn’t Andy here today?”

“Yeah, I told him to go have his lunch. I’ve got this.”

Her eyes widened. “The hell you say? Let’s go catch up inside. You can fill me in on what happened while I was gone.”

After coiling the hose and putting it away, I followed Mandy inside. The gorillas weren’t due back inside their enclosure until this afternoon, but I was happy to be done with that task early.

I shucked off my rain boots, leaning for a moment to steady myself on the wall. Whoa. A wave of nausea washed over me, and I sucked a deep, cleansing breath into my lungs. That was the third time today that had happened.

Shaking my head, I followed Mandy toward the workstations, and after washing my hands at the sink, I sat down on the stool next to her.

“Now, spill it, Bren,” she said, grinning at me like she knew something I did.

“Fine.” I shrugged. “I took your advice. Are you happy?”

She pumped her fist in the air. “You got laid! I’m so proud. Give me all the squishy details. And leave nothing out. Todd barely has the energy for sex anymore, and when he does, I have to be in the mood to deal with his beer belly.”

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