Always Love Me: A Standalone Second Chance Romance

by Derrick, Zoey

  I wrap my legs around him, pulling him into me, and I grind up against him as my orgasm consumes me, tipping me over the edge as I explode. His lips slam into mine, swallowing my cries as my body quakes and quivers, my orgasm subsiding slowly. His pace increases. “Yes, come for me,” I moan. “Come in me,” I cry softly.

  He doesn’t stop.

  Another orgasm balances on the edge, needing to be released. My eyes roll up. His teeth nip my tongue, and I squirm. He breaks our kiss, a grunt coming through his lips, his pace crazy and erratic as he’s close to the edge. “Xavier,” I breathe as my next orgasm consumes me.

  “Skylar,” he grunts as his orgasm consumes him, pouring into me as he stills inside me.

  We lay there, our breathing evening out. Xavier’s forehead is pressed against mine as I realize that this isn’t going to be easy. I’ve never wanted to stay in one place, with one man, so bad in my life. Right here, under him, with him—it’s why I agreed to stay for a few more days with him. I knew, before I agreed, that I wouldn’t be able to walk away tomorrow morning. I need to find a way to flush him from my system, and this is the only way I know how.

  My pussy clenches around him at the idea of doing this over again. I smirk as I realize he’s still quite hard. “What’s that for?” he asks.

  I giggle slightly, “You’re still hard.”

  He cocks an eyebrow at me. “You don’t realize just how sexy you are, do you?”

  My giggle turns into a humorless laugh, “Oh, I know. I like how you seem to think so, too.”

  He groans as he finally pulls free of me. “I do, I really do,” he breathes and then kisses the tip of my nose. “But I need to get back to the wheelhouse. We’ll be back in Dutch soon.”

  I shiver, the loss coursing through me, and I know I will not survive this. I will come out the other side of being with him for three more days worse than I already am. Thankfully, he doesn’t notice as he’s sitting on the side of the bed. I roll onto my side toward him. His cock is still hard and bouncing with his movements as he readies himself to put his prosthesis back on.

  I watch him closely as his muscles bunch and move with his movements. The long sleek lines of his body have me licking my upper lip with a need that ignites in me all over again.

  He hears or senses something, and his eyes meet mine. “Like what you see, Rebel girl?”

  “Mmm,” I moan, “very much so.”

  “Insatiable much?” he smirks.

  “For you? Yes,” I breathe.

  “Good. You should stay here, naked, just like this.”

  “Later,” I giggle.

  “I like the sound of that.”

  So do I, I think, but I don’t say it out loud. Not yet. I can’t fully admit to myself that I’m enjoying this far more than I should, let alone admit it to him.

  He sees what he needs to see in my eyes, smirks, and goes back to getting dressed.

  I don’t move, just watch him. I notice his confidence return in the straightening of his shoulders once he’s put back together. I didn’t notice it before because he seemed to be in so much pain when he first came into the room. I thought it was the pain wearing him down, but the reality is the struggle of knowing he isn’t whole—something that seems to bother him much more than it bothers me. I run a finger along the back of his arm. I notice more scars there as my finger glides down. They’re relatively invisible to the eye, but definitely not to my finger. “Is this all from when you lost your leg?” I ask without thinking.

  For the first time since I started asking about his service, he doesn’t stiffen. “Mostly.” His answer is short and leaves the door wide open for a bigger explanation.

  So, I ask, “Were you injured before?”

  His eyes meet mine, stormy, a little tormented by my question, but he takes my hand, pulling me toward him. He kisses my palm, and then brings my hand around him to his right side to a deeper, pitted scar. It’s about three-quarters of an inch in diameter—a nearly perfect circle. “Shot?” I ask.

  He nods. “Three weeks in. The bullet managed to get me just below my vest. Missed anything really important. They patched me up and sent me back to my squad.”

  “Where did these come from?” I ask, my curiosity getting the better of me, and since he’s talking, I want to keep him talking.

  “When I lost my leg, I was blown back into a courtyard, and I landed on something that was burning.”

  “The one down the back of your leg?” I ask without thinking.

  “When I lost my leg, a piece of shrapnel sliced through me, landing in my butt cheek.” I try and fail to smile reassuringly at him. It comes out pained, and he notices. “It doesn’t hurt. None of it hurts, except when it’s cold and raining. Then everything hurts.”

  “You’ve just been through so much.” My voice is barely above a whisper.

  “But if I hadn’t been through all that, I wouldn’t be here today.”

  I snort, “No, you’d either be dead, or doing something far less dangerous and taxing.”

  “No, I’d be here. I knew when I was a kid that I would work with Erron and my father when the time was right. When I didn’t have that option after Mom, I did the only other thing I could. Your uncle wouldn’t give up on me. So, when I was healed and capable, I joined the crew of the Roving Rogue. Soaked up everything I could and climbed my way into the wheelhouse.”

  My eyes widen in shock. Being on the deck of a crab boat isn’t easy with two good legs. “How’d you manage all that?”

  “I was determined,” he says flatly. “I knew if I busted my ass, did everything I was supposed to do, then the torture on deck was temporary. It was all worth it, in the end.”

  He awkwardly moves, pulling on his pants before standing to button them. The scar on his left leg becomes more visible as he straightens up, dimpling from his ass to just above his knee. “Most people would have just given up,” I mumble.

  “I’m not most people,” he says tersely.

  “You can say that again,” I deadpan.

  He looks down at me. “Neither are you,” he reminds me.

  “Ha!” I chortle. “You don’t know anything about me.”

  “Oh?” He raises an eyebrow. “Skylar Rebel McKay, daughter of a crab captain, owner and CEO of a major financial firm in New York City, sex goddess, wildcat and insatiable fiend.”

  I close my eyes, shake my head and chuckle softly. “That’s all relatively common knowledge,” I retort.

  He sits down, hand on my hip. “Love of my life,” he whispers so soft I have to strain to hear him.

  “Now that’s sappy,” I retort quickly, not wanting him to see how uncomfortable that comment makes me.

  “It’s true,” he adds. “There’s hardly a day that’s gone by in the last 20 years when I haven’t thought about you.”

  “Stop,” I quip. I move to try and cover myself.

  He shakes his head. “One day, I will prove it to you.”

  “You already have,” I grouse.

  “How so?”

  I grab the bunny from by the pillow and lift it up with a questioning raise of my eyebrow.

  He chuckles but puts his hands up in surrender. “It’s good luck,” he laughs.

  “Bullshit,” I counter.

  He shrugs, “Well, you can’t take him with you.”

  “I didn’t plan on it,” I say softly, cuddling the bunny to my chest. “But I like that you have him.”

  “He’s gotten me through some rough times.” His voice is soft, broken a little.

  “The Marines?” I ask, not trying to be specific.

  He nods. “He went everywhere with me.”

  “Then he wasn’t very good luck,” I counter.

  “I’m alive,” he states softly and simply.

  “Good point.” I smile at him.

  His eyes twinkle with a little humor and happiness as he takes in my arms wrapped around the ridiculous, dingy, dirty bunny he’s kept for 20 years.

  For the first
time in my life, my heart begins to warm at the idea that this gorgeous, god-like Adonis might actually love me. We won’t talk about how my brain is screaming that I should run now and run fast.

  Loving me carries a death sentence.

  Everyone I’ve ever really, truly loved, is dead.

  Deidrick “Dirk” Xavier Tyler is alive, and I would very much like to keep him that way. Keeping him at arm’s length is the only way I know how to do that.

  But the panty melting smile he’s giving me right now makes that impossible.

  Chapter 18

  Xavier

  “Get dressed and come up to the wheelhouse with me?” I ask her before I leave. She’s still naked and curled around the bunny I gave her when I brought her in here to cry herself out.

  “I should spend some time with Randy and Kathleen.” She doesn’t look at me as she argues weakly.

  “I’m sure they’d like that, but I’m pretty sure Randy gets it.”

  Her eyes find mine. “Gets what?”

  I just smirk. “Get dressed.”

  She shakes her head but sits up on the side of the bed. “I’ll be up in a few,” she says absently.

  I don’t pry; I need to relieve Dribbler. “See you then.”

  I open the door and look to make sure no one is standing on the stairs. I can see some feet down in the galley and I step out, quickly closing the door behind me as I climb into the wheelhouse.

  There are a couple of boats steaming ahead of us. On the way out, they gave us the respect and let us lead, but now, everyone has places to be, like the bar.

  “She alright?” I look to my chair and see Randy sitting there.

  “Where’s Dribbler?”

  “He and Jessie are working on some stuff. I took over a bit ago.” He pins me with his gaze.

  “Yeah, she’s alright.” Probably better than alright, but I don’t let him know that part.

  “What’s going on with you two?” he asks, deadpan and to the point.

  I shrug and my lips twitch with a smile. “I have no idea, but god help me if anyone gets in my way of finding out.”

  Randy’s lips twitch and his eyes glitter with a happiness I always see when he talks about Rebel. He may not be her father, but there is a father’s pride in his voice and eyes when he talks about her. He and Kathleen did everything they could to take care of her growing up, and she may not appreciate it much, but they sure as hell do. I watch as his eyes slowly harden. “Whatever it is, do not let it push her back. I feel like you might be the one thing that can bring her back to the west coast.”

  “I have no intention of doing any of that. You know as well as anyone that she does what she wants, regardless of how much you beg her,” I remind him.

  He sighs, “I know, but we miss her. Not just in a business sense.” His sadness can both be heard and seen in his eyes as he looks away from me, checking the equipment and our heading.

  “I know, but we can’t make her do anything she doesn’t want to do,” I tell him for about the thousandth time. Randy missing Rebel is no secret, at least not to me. I never said anything to him, just simply listened for any news on her, and he always provided me with just the right amount of information to keep my interest piqued. All that information paid off ten-fold when I found her at the Gala in New York.

  “No, we can’t,” he relents after a few moments with a heavy sigh. He looks up at me, emotion all over his face. “Want her back?”

  More than you know. “Yeah, I’ll take over.” I knew what he meant. While Randy knows Rebel and I were close as kids, and now he’s obviously seen us together today, he doesn’t know to what extent I want this woman in my life. No, I don’t want her, I need her.

  “We’re about an hour out. Give or take a few.”

  The mountains of Unalaska should be starting to show their pretty face shortly. I squint a bit, and sure enough, it’s on the horizon. The sun behind us, the water is calmer on the way back in than it was on the way out. We’ve made good time coming back to port.

  Randy steps down out of my chair. I grab a hair tie and pull my hair back as he sidesteps me.

  “What are you going to do about the girls?” Randy asks as he stands behind the manual wheel, overlooking the deck and our path.

  I shrug. “Hell if I know. But I’m pretty sure Gavin gave them a piece of his mind. He called on the way out. He was ready to throw them overboard.” I laugh, remembering the boat-to-boat transfer. Though it wouldn’t have been as much fun by the old Bearded Bean, as the waters were far too calm to frighten them any. “Gavin suggested a boat-to-boat transfer in the middle of the Bering Sea might calm their tits a bit.”

  Randy snorts, “That shit is enough to sober anyone.” His shoulders slump and he frowns. “I knew there was bad blood, but I never expected that shit.”

  I shake my head side to side as I climb into my chair. “If they knew half of the shit you and Rebel have done for them, I’m sure they’d be singing a different tune.”

  “Ha!” Randy exclaims. “Those bitches wouldn’t know a good thing if it bit them in the ass.”

  I laugh at his tone. I push up a tick on the throttle. As much as I like knowing she’s down in my cabin, I know the fog of excitement and emotions lay heavy on this boat. I want Rebel on shore and making the same decision to stick around a couple extra days. “Can we uninvite them to the bar?” I ask absently as I check the radar.

  “I wish. It’s an open initiation to anyone here or in port. I know there’s a few boats that got held in offload that couldn’t come out to the ceremony that will be there, and I’m sure the bulk of those coming back now will be as well. So, it’s possible that there will be too many people to cause problems.”

  It’s my turn to snort. “Or too many people that will kick their asses.”

  “Too right,” Randy laughs.

  I don’t hear anything, but I see Randy turn, looking down the stairs. Then she’s there, standing at the top. Her sweatshirt on, her beanie back on her head. She’s made some touchups on her makeup or washed most of it off, I can’t quite tell, but she still looks fucking gorgeous. I smile to myself when I notice she’s left the bunny in my room.

  “All right, sweetheart?” Randy asks her.

  She nods softly. “Yeah, I just got overwhelmed with everything. I needed a few minutes.” She smiles sweetly at him, reassuring him her words are true, which of course they are.

  A few minutes? We were gone like two hours, but I don’t say that out loud.

  “Understood. Ready to get drunk?” Randy laughs.

  She chuckles, “Beyond ready.”

  “Good,” Randy and I say together.

  She moves into the wheelhouse, standing between Randy and the cabinet that separates me from the rest of the wheelhouse. She leans forward, putting her elbows on the cabinets under the windows. “Wow,” she breathes.

  I follow her gaze and see the mountains getting bigger and closer.

  “Unalaska,” Randy remarks. Then he turns toward the stairs. “Kathleen,” he hollers.

  “Yeah?” I barely hear her holler back.

  “Come up here.”

  I smile at Randy. Kathleen, like Rebel, has never come back to Dutch on the boat. In fact, the only time I’ve ever seen her on one is in Seattle, usually with gloves on and a bucket in her hand. She takes good care of this beast, and she’s always happy doing it.

  Kathleen comes into the wheelhouse, and Randy takes her hand. Then I see Rebel looking at me. I smirk and cock my finger at her in a come-hither gesture. Her answering smile sends a jolt of excitement and happiness to my warming heart.

  She comes around the cabin, and I turn, opening my legs for her as she climbs up, sitting between them. I wrap my left arm around her, holding her to me.

  We stay like that until I need to stand as we pull up to the dock. It’s easier for me to see Dribbler on the bow of the boat and his hand motions letting me know where the boat is in relationship to the dock. I can see most of it, but it
’s always nice to have another set of eyes. Jessie is on the stern. Without even asking her, Rebel goes to the other window opposite me and lets me know when we’re tied off so I can kill the propeller and idle down the engine.

  Our guests gather on the deck of the boat. They stand around talking when Dribbler and Jessie come into the wheelhouse. “We got it from here,” Dribbler says.

  “Shut her down completely,” I tell him. “We won’t be doing much else today. Tomorrow, we’ll get to work on loading up.”

  “Jessie and I are going to take Tommy to the airport, then go shopping. Set it up to be delivered tomorrow or Monday.” Dribbler, the ever-attentive deck boss, is all over this, and I appreciate him for it.

  “Great.”

  “We’re on track to take off on Monday. Everything is set. We only have a handful of repairs left to do, and then I’ll get the hydraulic problem fixed, and we’ll be ready to roll.”

  I nod, but my eyes are on Rebel. “Plan on leaving Tuesday,” I tell Dribbler and Jessie.

  Dribbler smirks but doesn’t say anything. Jessie is quiet as always. He’s always just rolling with shit.

  I watch Rebel smirk from behind them. Knowing full well why I’m delaying our departure.

  “Okay, let’s get it done,” I tell Jessie and Dribbler who both nod.

  “Right-oh,” Jessie says.

  I just slowly shake my head, close my eyes, and roll them.

  I love Jessie for his can-do attitude and his ability to roll with anything thrown at him. He and Dribbler will have the hydros fixed in no time at all but they will roll with whatever I say. We could stay here for another week and they wouldn’t care.

  I’m no longer in much of a hurry. We did a huge overhaul on Bearded Bean Two before king crabs last fall. She doesn’t need much work, which means my offseason is going to be rather boring and uneventful. Unless I can convince Rebel to come back and stay in Seattle.

  Fat chance, but fuck me, I’m going to try.