Page 79 of Second Chance

I fall back on his chest, and he slowly removes his fingers. Lifting them to his mouth, he sucks each one like he’s savoring a treat. I want to be appalled. I should be aghast, but I’m not. I feel desperate like I want more than his fingers in me. The suction of his mouth over his fingers lingers at my ear and my skin prickles with need.

I spin between his legs and fumble for his belt buckle.

“Whoa there, Spice.” He chuckles, but my fingers make fast work. He might have even shifted a little to help me. I don’t care. Buckle unlatched. Zipper down. Palm wrapping around him inside his jeans.

“Push these down a little,” I demand.

“Mati, you don’t have to do this.” But he’s already working his jeans to his hips, setting free the miraculous appendage—in all its glory—this evening. He might have been mostly hard yesterday, but he’s as stiff as an oak tree in my hand tonight.

“Let me…” I don’t know what to say. Do this? Touch you? Have my way with you? “It’s been so long, I just don’t know…”

His hand covers mine, and a finger comes under my chin, tipping my face upward, forcing me to face him.

“Do you see me, Mati?”

“See you?” I choke, my eyes drifting downward despite my upward face. “How can I miss this?” I’m not mocking him, just astonished. He’s large, larger than I’ve experienced, and he feels so good in my hand. My fingers wrapped around a sacred part of him, working him with strong tugs and gentle pulls. He chuckles softly and removes his finger from my chin. I catch his eyes, and despite the darkness, there’s a spark.

“I see you, Denton,” I say, sensing he needs to hear this from me for whatever reason. “I also want to keep touching you.” His arms spread wide, and his hands fall to the edge of the truck. He rolls his hips again, and his dick jolts upward.

“By all means, lion cat. Touch me.” By using my high school nickname, I’m suddenly wondering if he’s trying to make memories again. For just a moment I wonder if he wanted it to be me against his pickup truck at sixteen and not Kristy.

“Don’t go there,” he whispers, and I fumble stroking him.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“In your head,” he warns and then his breath catches as I stroke my thumb over the moist tip of him. “Damn it, Spice.” His head falls back and his eyes close as I continue rubbing. I’m out of practice for handjobs, and I recall what a man likes second best to sex. I scoot back and lower my head.

“You don’t know what’s in my head,” I warn.

“Tell me, Spice. Give me your fantasies.”

I kiss the tip of him.

“Mati?” Denton whispers, but I’m on a mission. I don’t have time to share my fantasy. The tip of my tongue circles the mushroom edge of him.

“Jesus,” he hisses, and I smile. Opening, I draw him in, willing away random thoughts of random women. I can do this, I pep talk myself. I want to do this. I suck and I slurp and I feel like I’ve never given head before, but Denton groans and his hand covers the back of my hair. He’s muttering my name and begging me not to stop, and the feeling of control comes back to me. Empowerment. As I’m sucking him like my life depends on it, I realize I haven’t felt this alive in a long time. And I let loose.

My tongue swirls around the stiff shaft, and I lap at the ridged edges. I suck the tip until my lips pop and then I take him to the back of my throat. He’s deep and holding me in place.

“Spice,” he mutters. “Pull back.” But I refuse. I need to do this. He jets off, down my throat, and I swallow him and my pride. Tears sting my eyes as I release him and indelicately wipe at my lips.

“Sweetheart,” he says quietly, his brow pinching as he looks at me.

“I’m okay,” I lie, and instantly, I’m being tugged forward, wrapped in his arms. My ear rests over his heart, racing faster than normal, and I close my burning eyes.

“I’m sorry, Mati. I’m sorry.”

I shake my head against his chest. His hand brushes back my hair, and I inhale his scent. Manly and mountain evenings. Moisture and fine mist.

“It was too much,” he says, and I press upward to look at him, blinking away the tears.

“No, Denton. It was perfect.”

He doesn’t believe me, and I can’t explain myself. I needed to know I could do this—be with another man—and there is no other man I want more than Denton.

“Let’s just sit for a while, okay?” he asks, pulling me back to him.

I agree as he tucks himself away, and I sheepishly glance away. Fingers cup my throat and I twist in his direction. He kisses me briefly before folding me in his arms against his chest. We remain silent, looking up at the stars and I no longer wonder about Chris but see the brilliance of the pinpricked sky. Formations I haven’t searched for in years materialize, and I realize it’s similar to the moment with Denton. We’re discovering a new constellation.