Page 114 of Second Chance

We cuddle on the bench seat as we take a ride near midnight. Billy tells me I’m free, and I’m emotionally wrought, so I’m relieved to leave Oktoberfest. I don’t even know where Denton is staying, and I’d like to offer my house although I think it would be awkward bringing him to the bed I shared with Chris. Sensing my worry, he doesn’t even pause as he passes my subdivision, but continues down Scenic Drive, heading for Magnolia’s.

“Be very quiet,” he says as if he’s sneaking me into his house past curfew. After closing the front door and setting the lock, he presses me into the wall and kisses me silly. We might never make it upstairs, and I’m okay with remaining in the dark hallway as long as his mouth keeps torturing mine like it does.

When he pulls back, his forehead lands on mine, and he whispers while he speaks.

“I’m not dreaming, right? You’re really here, and I’m kissing you, and I’m going to take you up those stairs and have my way with you. No pretending.”

“No pretending,” I say as his hands skim down my arms and he envelops both my hands in his. He tugs me from the wall and guides the way toward the staircase.

“I promised Magnolia I’d stay here tonight, although I warned her I was coming in late. Tommy should come to visit, too, as she is his grandmother as well, but he said he’ll see her tomorrow. He’s staying at Conrad Lodge.”

“And where are you staying after tonight?” The question escapes before I consider the pressure it puts between us, suggesting the possibility we really aren’t real.

“Undetermined,” he states, giving my hand a squeeze. I don’t feel reassured, but I’m not passing up another night with him.

He leads me into the same room we slept in the night his mother died. Closing the door with a soft click, I suddenly feel nervous. Denton comes up behind me, slipping my wool lined jean jacket from my shoulders. The night was cool, but the heat of drinking and dancing kept people warm enough. Now, my skin pebbles with a chill I don’t attribute to the temperature. Heated hands rub down my arms as Denton stands behind me. He peppers my neck with kisses until his palm finds my throat. He tips me by the chin for better access to my skin.

“I want you again, Mati. I always want you,” he whines as if he’s confused by the sensation—as if it’s a bad thing.

“Do you want to stop…” My voice trails as he nips me.

“Never! Never gonna stop wanting you, never did.” His hands slide forward and unbutton my dress while his mouth continues to sprinkle kisses over my skin. He lifts my hair, travels along the nape of my neck until he reaches the opposite shoulder. Pushing my dress, the material falls to my hips, and I wiggle for it to drift to my feet.

“Spice, you are so fucking gorgeous,” he curses, kissing down my spine and spreading his palms over my waist. “I want you like this.”

I don’t know what he means until he walks us forward to the edge of the bed.

“Lean forward, sweetheart.” I do as he says, my palms hitting the knotty material of the bedspread. His foot comes between my feet, and he taps left to right, so I spread my legs. “Ever do...” He stops, and I know he wants to ask things we shouldn’t discuss. In time we’ll need to talk about Chris, but not now.

“I don’t want to replace him,” he says, standing behind and trailing fingers up and down my spine. His voice lowers, and I should look over my shoulder at him, but I don’t. Instead, I focus on my fingers digging into the coverlet.

“I know,” I whisper.

“I just want my own time.”

“Me too,” I say instantly because it’s true. I’m the lucky one. I will have had them both. Denton might only be a blip, but I’ll take the time he gives me.

He returns to kissing me, massaging my skin to bring us both back to the present—where we don’t have to feel guilty. We don’t have to repress things. We can just be us. It doesn’t take long before the kisses grow rougher and our breathing heats. Hands grope, and my backside grinds against his jeans. Shoving my underwear to my feet, Denton tells me to step out of them.

“I’m still wearing my boots,” I say.

“Keep them on.” It’s a bit awkward, but I do as he says. “Crawl up on the bed.”

My sex pulses and a sultry scent fills the room. I’m so wet, I feel the moisture on my inner thighs. Doing as he asks, I kneel on the edge of the mattress, spreading enough so he can step between my booted feet.

“Fuck me,” he mutters, and I’m about to make a joke that that’s the plan when two fingers delve into me. I lurch forward, but his free hand grips my hip and draws me back. I’m stretched in a way I’ve never been. I’ll never feel this way again, whispers through my head. He releases my hip and the sound of a belt buckle crackles in the room as fingers continue sliding in and out of me. It’s a heady combination. A song between us.

And then we dance as he takes his time to enter me from behind. Torturously slow, he fills me until his balls tickle my thighs. My fingers clutch the bedspread as my back arches, forcing me to hold him deep inside. The angle is different. The feeling complete. And I want to answer his question.

No. I’ve never felt like this before.

“Spice,” he growls as he pulls back and then thrusts forward, holding my hips so I can’t escape the force. He sets the rhythm, pummeling into me in the sweetest beat. His palm skitters up my spine until he finds my hair. Twirling it in his fist, he gently tugs, and I tilt back.

“You’re the greatest fantasy,” he mutters, and I don’t even know what he means, but I smile to myself. Releasing my hair, his hand skims to the front of me, reaching lower until he finds the sweet spot. I’m on sensory overload. He’s touching where I need while filling me, and the orgasm flies through me. I scream into the bed covers unashamed, and yet surprised with myself. I’ve never come like this, and I instantly want a repeat.

“Give it to me, Spice,” Denton groans, but I don’t think I can get there again.

“No, fill me,” I command, and Denton stills. The different position enhances the pleasure of each jolt, each pump, as he spills inside me.