Second Chance Read online

  Her climax took her by surprise. One second she was grinding against his face, the next she was screaming at the ceiling, her muscles convulsing.

  When she came down from the glorious high, Daniel was poised above her.

  “I think you’re ready for the main event, sweetheart.”

  The thought of having him inside her, of two beings remade into one, filled her with a longing so intense, she forgot all about her satisfaction. That had been the appetizer. She needed the full meal.

  “I am, I really am.” She raked her nails down his chest. “Promise.”

  “Unless you’re too tired?” he asked as if she hadn’t spoken. “Yeah, you’re probably too tired.” He straightened, as if to leave her.

  She clasped his forearms, holding him in place. “You stop your teasing. You prove you can give me more—give me better. Now.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He pierced her with a single finger, and her hips bolted off the bed. Then, as she raced toward another stunning climax, her sensitive inner walls clenching around the digit, he added a second one, stretching her; she was so wet, the glide remained easy.

  So close, but not yet close enough. “I’m ready?” A question when she’d intended to make a statement.

  “Not yet.”

  She whimpered.

  He chuckled, the fierce sound broken by threads of tenderness. “We’re together now.” In. “A couple. You know that, right?” Out.

  Diabolical man! “Yes. Together. Couple.”

  In. He hooked his finger, and she gasped, her hips once again bolting up of their own accord. “There will be no dating other people.” Out.

  “No…others…swear.”

  He was merciless, continuing to torture her, still thrusting in and out, slowly, so danged slowly.

  Two could play this game. She reached between their bodies to wrap her fingers around his thick, hard length. It was so wide her fingers couldn’t meet in the middle, and so deliciously long. No wonder he hardly blinked about the micropenis comment. He had a macro!

  She stroked him, her movements awkward and untried, but he didn’t seem to mind.

  He praised her. “You’re making me feel so good, sweetheart, but it’s time for the main event. Only because you’ve been waiting on it, not because I’m desperate.”

  If she hadn’t been so agonized, she would have laughed.

  He left the bed with a strained “Just grabbing a condom. Or six.”

  Right. Good. But as a modern woman, she had responsibilities of her own. “I’ve only ever been with Jazz. He’s my ex. And after our divorce I got tested. I’m clean. Are…” Wow, this was difficult. “Are you?”

  Silence. The bed dipped and Daniel hovered over her, a beam of moonlight filtering through a crack in the curtains and spotlighting him. His expression was infinitely gentle.

  “I’m proud of you. You did the right thing. Always ask.”

  The words gave her pause. Why would she need to ask him again when—

  Realization dawned. Always ask her future lovers. He might have agreed to date her openly, but he’d been serious when he’d said they wouldn’t last. A sick feeling churned at the bottom of her stomach; she ignored it. He wanted her, and he wanted the world to know she belonged to him. That was enough. For now.

  “I’m clean,” he said. “If you’re on birth control…”

  “I’m not.” There’d been no need.

  “Condom on, then.”

  He would have gone without one if she’d been on the pill?

  He must have registered her surprise. “I always wear one. Haven’t had sex without one. But one day I want to go bare with you.”

  Forget her upset. Her heart swelled with love for him. He might think they were doomed, but he trusted her not to betray him.

  “I can’t get pregnant,” she admitted. “Well, that’s not one hundred percent accurate. I can, maybe, possibly, but it would be a one in a million chance.”

  She expected him to ask questions. Instead, he caressed her tattoo, infinitely tender as his fingertips brushed her skin. Then he ripped open the foil packet and slid the latex down his length.

  “One in a million is still a chance,” he said.

  If only. “Bet you’re one of those fools who thinks he’ll win the lottery.”

  “Someone has to. And you’re about to get lucky, so I don’t know why you’re complaining about the odds.”

  She giggled even as she reeled. Apparently she could laugh while agonized. “Get inside me. Now, now, now!”

  He parted her legs, got into position—and thrust home. Her hips arched to meet him, and she cried out. Oh, the perfection of being filled by him. Her nails sank into his hair and back. The first two strokes burned her, stretching her too wide, but then, oh, then…the magic happened.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  DANIEL HAD ENTERED a state he’d never before known: all-consuming desire. It drove him. It raged inside him, contradicting itself every other second. Go fast. Go slow. Contentment and satisfaction beckoned him. Come closer… He was going insane, surely, but he’d never been happier. Thea was wrapped around him, hot and wet. No, soaking.

  She was soft, and she smelled absolutely amazing. The taste of her sweet, sweet honey still flavored his tongue. He would have given anything to turn on the lights, but she wasn’t ready and he wasn’t going to push. Not again. He wanted this to be good for her. No, perfect for her, so she would come back for more. So she would always come back for more.

  Always?

  As long as they were together.

  He shifted to hook his arms under her knees, forcing her legs to widen, her body to take him deeper. In the dim lighting, he could just make out the crests of her nipples. Those little cotton candy treats. He leaned over and ran one through his teeth.

  As she gasped his name, going slow ceased to be an option. He hammered into her once, twice. Her breasts jiggled under his gaze, and it only fueled his desire. He slid a hand down the inside of her thigh, pressed his thumb over her swollen bundle of nerves.

  “Yes! There!” she cried.

  He thrust and rubbed, thrust and rubbed. Each action provided a different stimulus, but as he moved faster and faster, the sensations blended into one. She moaned when he applied more pressure, her inner walls constricting, and pleasure ripped through him. She was close; he could get her closer.

  He began to thrust harder, faster, until he was a jackhammer. Utterly unstoppable. The legs of the bed scraped against the carpet. Mattress springs creaked. As he peered down at this woman who had obsessed him, a primal sense of possession took root.

  “Daniel, Daniel, Daniel,” she chanted.

  He cupped and kneaded her breasts, pinched her nipples. Her hips writhed as she made delectable sounds he would forever savor. She was the most spectacular picture of feminine pleasure he’d ever beheld.

  “Come for me, sweetheart. I want to feel you.”

  “Yes, yes. Feel you.”

  He spread his fingers under her ass and lifted, his groin taking over for his thumb, rubbing as he slammed into her core, again and again. She screamed, her entire body bowing. Her inner walls squeezed him just right, and he could hold back no longer. He roared as he jetted into the condom.

  When she collapsed on the mattress, he collapsed beside her.

  “I think we had another earthquake,” she rasped.

  He laughed. Gathering enough strength to get up and dispose of the condom was difficult, but somehow he managed. The separation—though short—bothered him. He crawled back into bed and, after draping one of her legs over his and turning her hips so that they rested against him, he tucked the cover around them, sighing with relief.

  She settled her head on his shoulder. “Is the puppet master done?”

 
“Never.” He skimmed his fingers up and down her spine. “Now that we’re boyfriend and girlfriend—and one hundred percent exclusive—I expect golden milk every morning and every evening.”

  “And what will I get in return?”

  “The most magnificent headboard ever to be carved.”

  “No way. I already paid the toll. Use your brain, Porter, and negotiate me something you don’t already owe me.”

  “Very well. But I won’t start our negotiations until after you’ve looked inside the mini fridge.”

  “Did you put something for me in there?” She sounded surprised and excited.

  “Find out.” He gave her a little push off the bed.

  She took the sheet with her, the material wrapped around her, as she trudged to the fridge.

  * * *

  DOROTHEA WONDERED WHAT she’d find inside. Whipped cream to eat off his body? A Red Bull to refuel for the next round of loving? Despite the darkened room, she had no trouble finding her way, knew the layout of every room. She opened the door—and snorted.

  “You shouldn’t have, Danny boy. All the supplies for golden milk. How amazingly sweet you are—to yourself.”

  “Failed to notice the bacon-garnished cupcake in back, I see.”

  Really? She nudged the milk supplies aside and—sure enough. A cupcake with bits of bacon sprinkled on top.

  Dorothea had to blink back tears. “Thank you, Daniel.”

  “Did I mention that as your boyfriend—your exclusive boyfriend—I expect to be served my golden milk every night and every morning?”

  “Only ten thousand times. I’m happy to make it for you, but we’ll have to go to my room. Yours doesn’t have a burner.”

  He was on his feet a second later, heading for the door. Completely naked! A fact he must have forgotten.

  “Wait! You have to dress.” She had to dress, too. She scrambled around the room, clutching the sheet close to her chest as she gathered her discarded—and now torn—clothing. Pulling on each item proved difficult with only one hand, but somehow she managed.

  “This is almost a deal breaker, sweetheart.” He tugged on a pair of jeans, then collected a bag and filled it with the supplies from the fridge as well as her cupcake, which was protected by a plastic case. “I want to keep you naked forever.”

  Forever? Her eyes widened and she flipped on the lights to study him. He must have realized his slip, because he couldn’t hide his sudden scowl.

  Her feelings weren’t hurt by the negative reaction. Much. He’d already warned her they had an expiration date.

  As they strode down the hall, she prayed no one was out and about. Unfortunately, they ran into one of the three patrons. The son of a local, who’d come to visit his pregnant sister. Fortunately, the guy didn’t glance up from his phone as he passed them.

  Daniel called out, “I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m her boyfriend.”

  Oh, my stars. “Daniel.”

  At least the patron kept going, lost in his own little world.

  “What?” Daniel demanded. “Want me to carry you? You look tried. Like all your energy has been drained by intense lovemaking.”

  Lovemaking? “No, I—”

  “Okay, great.” He crouched, fit his shoulder against her middle and lifted her off her feet.

  Laughing, she beat at his back. “How dare you treat me this way. I’m your boss.”

  “I’m your gentleman lover, and gentleman lover will always trump boss.” He turned the corner and ascended the staircase to the upper floor.

  “Earlier you said you weren’t a gentleman. You even proved it! I never got my turn.”

  “If you’re trying to tell me you didn’t have an orgasm, I’m going to spank you.”

  “Not that,” she said, and snorted. “The other thing. I didn’t get to…you know…taste you.”

  He missed a step.

  The hand on her butt softened, and he began to rub. “Are you pouting, sweetheart? Damn, that’s hot.” At the door, he set her on her feet. He was smiling his most wicked smile. “You’re right. I didn’t let you have your turn, and that was my mistake. One I’m going to make up to you.” He fished the key out of her pocket and opened the door…only to walk her backward into the room. “We’ll negotiate about the golden milk after you’ve had your turn.” He placed the bag of goodies on her coffee table and slowly lowered his zipper, his smile widening. “Go ahead. Devour me.”

  * * *

  DOROTHEA AWOKE WITH a smile. Until she realized Daniel wasn’t in bed with her…wasn’t anywhere in her room or even on the roof. He’d taken off. Why, that dirty piece of—

  Oh! He’d left a note, the darling.

  Couldn’t sleep and didn’t want to disturb you, but damn, next time you may just have to deal with being disturbed. Leaving is hell. I like you soft and warm against me.

  Yours, D.

  PS Where’s my golden milk?

  She clutched the paper to her chest and sighed. That man. He was everything she’d ever dreamed, but also so much more. But he was hurting himself every time he refused to sleep. She wished she’d worn him out, wanted to give him peace and rest. The way he’d just given her the greatest night of her life.

  Her mind replayed some of her favorite moments.

  When she’d sucked his length and he’d begged her to take every drop of his climax.

  When, in the aftermath, he’d laughingly asked if he tasted better than bacon.

  When he’d drawn her a bubble bath and sat behind her, kissing her neck, washing her hair and massaging her back, never once complaining that she wore a swimsuit.

  When he’d made love to her while she was bent over the rim of the tub, water sloshing onto the floor, the lights off, per her request.

  When she’d curled in bed, exhausted and sore, and he’d fed her aspirin. Then he’d growled, “Can’t get enough,” and seduced her all over again. He’d been gentle that time, almost loving. But he didn’t love her—yet.

  Dorothea planned to do everything in her power to win his heart. He wasn’t the only one who liked a good challenge.

  She traced the outside of the rose tattoo, and a heavy weight settled over her heart. What if she won his heart, and he wanted to get married…and start a family?

  Would he be open to adoption?

  Whoa! Slow down. You’re getting waaay ahead of yourself.

  Right. She stood on trembling legs and picked up her cell phone. She’d call him, shiver when she heard his sexy voice, then rail at him for leaving her. One way or another, she would help him fight the demons of his past.

  New mental note: research PTSD and the best ways to help a partner deal.

  If she called, would she come across as clingy? Their relationship was so new, and they hadn’t negotiated any of the particulars. Heck, she was new to this.

  Okay. No phone call.

  Dorothea brushed her teeth, anchored her hair in a ponytail and donned her favorite tank and jogging shorts.

  After her run, she would shower. Maybe Daniel would join her.

  Daniel. Her boyfriend.

  Her phone released a strange buzz. Frowning, she glanced at the screen.

  The words Customers In Lobby flashed over the screen.

  What the—

  Wait. When Daniel first started working here, he’d mentioned “fixing your security problems as well as your technology problems.”

  Dang it, she needed to put a stop to all these good deeds of his. She’d done nothing for him, and if she wasn’t careful, an imbalance would develop. But what could you do for a man who could do everything for himself? Well, besides make him golden milk? And pleasure his brains out.

  Dorothea made her way to the lobby to deal with the customers. Her stomach rolled over when sh
e spotted a sleeping Mrs. Hathaway behind the counter and a suit-clad Jazz in front of it.

  Oh, crap. He’d warned her. How could she have forgotten?

  She should have been prepared.

  She wasn’t prepared.

  The gorgeous Charity Sparks stood beside him, radiant in red. She was speaking to him, but he snapped a retort, silencing her.

  Maybe he had ended things with her.

  Charity flushed and faked a smile, as if his reaction was exactly what she’d wanted.

  Dorothea was tempted to back out and get her mother to handle the newcomers. But she wasn’t a coward. She’d faced 250 pounds of hard muscle and determination, and she’d won.

  Speaking of 250 pounds of hard muscle and determination, she wished Daniel were here for moral support.

  I’m smart, strong and—sometimes—confident. I can do this on my own.

  She stepped up to the counter and smiled at Jazz. “Hello, Jazz. Charity. How may I help you?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  DANIEL HAD SPENT the past few hours working on the headboard in his dad’s garage. He’d made a lot of progress, but he hadn’t been able to finish because he’d had to limit his use of power tools while Adonis and Echo slept. And farted. Unlike his dad, they weren’t hard of hearing. But he’d had to stay busy. He wanted to be near Thea, but he’d had no desire to thrash and moan about gunfire and death while in bed with her.

  When could he have her again? No one had ever felt so good or hot or wet. So…perfect. Never had he come so hard.

  He should have stayed with her. Shouldn’t have abandoned her. Shouldn’t have let her wake up alone in the bed they’d shared.

  He sucked. He would have loved to see her surrounded by morning light. Would have loved to trace her scars, and pray she told him how she’d gotten them…why she only had a one in a million shot at getting pregnant.

  She’d lost a baby, hadn’t she?

  He hated the thought of her in pain.

  Desperate to see her, he wrote his dad a note and left it on the kitchen table.

  I’ll be at the inn. Will you bring Adonis and Echo to me when you visit Anthony? Love you.