Always Love Me: A Standalone Second Chance Romance

by Derrick, Zoey

  “Whatever you do, don’t drink from the tap,” Dribbler warns her. “There’s a shit ton of bottled water on board, and we cook with the gallons,” he lets her know.

  “No problem.”

  Rebel slides in on one side of the horseshoe bench, and I follow after her. “Anything else I need to know?” she asks when Dribbler (after grabbing a roll of paper towels, a stack of plates and a fork for her) sits down opposite me and next to Jessie who’s across from her.

  “Stay off the deck this afternoon, and you’re good.”

  She cocks her head.

  “They’re going to be pulling up some deck boards,” I explain.

  “Ahh, I don’t think that will be a problem.” She stabs opens a packet of dressing as the three of us start dividing and conquering the food. I chuckle silently when she grabs a plate and tosses a couple wings and a potato skin on it.

  We eat in companionable silence for a while before Dribbler starts asking Rebel questions about what she’s been doing the last 20 years. He’s shocked when she tells him about Rebel Industries and living in New York. Dribbler knows she owns Bearded Bean, but he also knows Randy runs the day-to-day operations of it, so he doesn’t ask about that.

  “Who was that guy who dropped you off?” Jessie asks, curious.

  “That’s Diem, he’s my…well, I guess a little bit of everything. He drives, he’s my head of security, he does a lot of errands for me. Speaking of which,”—she looks at me—“he’ll be back a little later. He was going to run to Safeway for some stuff for the house and grab a couple things I couldn’t find at Alaska Supply.”

  “No worries,” Dribbler says, “we’ll be on deck for a while.”

  She nods before opening her Mountain Dew.

  After lunch, we clean up and toss our containers. There’s one nice thing about eating out—no dishes to do. The dryer buzzes. I look at Rebel. “Do you need to wash anything?” I ask.

  “Nope, not at the moment.”

  I don’t know why, but the seemingly simple normal question has me feeling a little fuzzy. I think it has to do with the normalcy of it. Like the fact she’s here and staying here for a few days. Though, I still wish she’d ride with us. “Do you need to help them?” she asks with her thumb pointed toward the stairs.

  “Nope, I’m all yours.”

  “Oh really?” She quirks an eyebrow at me. “You sure they don’t need you?”

  “Are you trying to get rid of me?” I ask as I pull the last of my shit from the dryer.

  “Nope, just making sure.” She wiggles her eyebrows at me before grabbing her laptop bag.

  “Did you have something in mind?” I narrow my eyes at her.

  She giggles, “Not a thing.” She winks and disappears up the stairs.

  My cock perks up, happy and excited at the prospect of being buried inside her.

  Rebel

  “Wow,” I say in disbelief when I take in the state of his room. The floor is completely devoid of laundry and miscellaneous stuff strewn everywhere. The bed is neatly made, a couple extra pillows added to it with my bunny leaning against the middle of them. My suitcase, purse, bag, the new duffle bag I bought, and the paper bag from Alaska Supply sit in the corner between the bed and bathroom. I peak into the bathroom, and it too has been cleaned up. I can’t help the smile that spreads on my face, knowing he cares enough to clean up. Not that it bothered me before.

  I hear him on the stairs and I move toward my stuff, setting my laptop bag on the bed as I go. “Make yourself at home,” he says softly. I turn to see him dropping a stack of clothes on the bed. “Do you need to hang anything up?”

  I can’t help the warm spread of happiness from spreading through me that he’s kind of thinking of everything. Little things. Paying attention. “I have a couple things that could use a hanger.”

  I turn toward him as he reaches into the closet, though it’s more like an alcove as there are no doors on it, and he comes out with a couple hangers in his hands. “There’s two drawers,”—he points to the side of the bed I’m on—“that you can put your things into. I also cleared off a shelf in the bathroom for you.”

  He’s gone to great lengths to make space for me in his life, and I’m not sure how I feel about that. So, I just nod.

  I open my mouth to say something to him but my phone rings, interrupting us. I pull it from my purse and look at the screen. “I need to take this,” I tell him.

  He nods. “Do you need privacy?” he asks.

  I smile sweetly at him, “No.” I press the green button and put it to my ear. “Hi Dawson.”

  Dirk nods, understanding.

  “What the hell do you mean you’re not coming home tomorrow?”

  “Wow, breathe, home slice.” I tease him.

  “What happened?” he asks.

  “Dirk happened.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “Do you remember that search I made you do back in January?” I ask while looking at Dirk.

  “Yeeesss,” Dawson says hesitantly, then I hear him gasp. “You mean, mystery Mister Gala-man?”

  “Yup, that’s the one. Turns out, he’s not such a mystery after all.”

  “Get it, girl,” he laughs.

  “I’m working on it, but you’re interrupting me,” I laugh.

  “Well, tsk tsk,” he quips. He switches gears quickly, “Have you arranged your flight?”

  “Yup, took care of that this morning when I sent Scott home.”

  “What do you need from me?”

  “Hold down the fort for me until I get home? I probably won’t be in the office until Thursday.”

  “Why so soon?” he chuckles.

  “Because I can’t take that much time off, you know this.”

  “Says who? You’re the boss, you know?”

  “Yes, Dawson, I’m aware. But if Dirk had it his way, I wouldn’t be home for at least two weeks.”

  “His way, huh?”

  I sigh, “It’s a long story.” I don’t want to go into details.

  “Girl, I will clear your fucking calendar. You should stay, if it means so much to you.”

  “Dawson, you’re not helping.”

  “What?” I can picture him with wide, dumbstruck eyes. “Girlfriend, when was the last time you threw caution to the wind and said fuck it all?”

  “January, at the gala.”

  “Touché, but, Skylar?”

  “Yeah, Dawson?”

  “Be safe.”

  “I will. I’ll see you on Thursday,” I tell him.

  “I’ll bet my next paycheck I won’t see you for two weeks.”

  “Good-bye, Dawson.” He’s laughing when I hang up the phone.

  “What was that all about?” Dirk asks as I toss it back into my purse.

  “Dawson, being his usually pushy, tenacious, overbearing self.” I look at Dirk and cock my head. “Kind of like someone else I know.” I give him a pointed look.

  He puts his hands up, backing away slowly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, beautiful.”

  I take a couple steps in his direction; he backs up until he runs into the jamb of the door. Reminding him that he hasn’t closed it. He finds the handle and slides it closed. Then I hear the click of the lock as he locks us in. My pussy pulses, my heart races, and my breathing hitches all at the same time. I see his shoulders shake briefly. He knows exactly what he’s done. Ass.

  “It’s warm in here,” I say breathlessly. I sound like a wanton slut.

  He turns around, his eyes hooded, and the spark of desire is back. He licks his upper lip and leans back against the door. He puts one arm across his chest, then the other he rests against it. His hand starts gently rubbing along his goatee. I shiver. He’s watching me.

  Getting an idea, I kick off my shoes.

  Then I pull on the zipper of my sweatshirt, unzipping it. It’s warmer out today, so I packed my jacket away. Dirk leans a little more casually, crossing his right leg over his left and putting his hands in his p
ockets. He gives me a wicked little grin as he pulls one of his hands back out. I flush when I see he has my panties in his hand.

  I pull off my sweatshirt, tossing it on my pile of stuff in the corner. I quickly lose my shirt and then my bra. I let my hands slide from my bare shoulders over my naked chest. Brushing my nipples as I move them further down my body, over my stomach, and then onto the button of my jeans. I pop it, then find my zipper and slide it down. It’s a slow, seductive dance, and his eyes watch me intently.

  He sets my panties on his dresser before pulling off his own sweatshirt, then his eyes are back on me. I pull the opening of my jeans wide, showing him that I’m not wearing any panties. He hisses, and his tongue darts out along his lips. He pulls off his t-shirt, giving me a perfect look at the Adonis body beneath. I lean down, sliding my jeans down my legs and I kick them off, tossing them away with my right foot, near my stuff. With a practiced finesse, I use my toes to pull off a sock, then the other. My eyes never leaving his. When I’m completely naked, I let my hand slide down to my pussy, cupping my mound and finding it wet and wanting. I begin to strum my clit. Pleasure and need collide, causing my eyes to flutter.

  He hasn’t moved since tossing his shirt aside. His eyes are locked on me, going between my eyes and my hand between my legs. “You’re wearing too many clothes,” I tell him with a groan as I dip a finger inside myself.

  “You’re still standing,” he counters.

  “You’re still dressed.”

  He unbuttons the top button of his jeans before pulling them apart, the button fly popping open. I see his dark boxer briefs briefly before he’s pushing them down his legs, stopping just above his knees, but I grin when I watch him ditch his shoes and then push them the rest of the way down. “You’re learning,” I breathe.

  “Get on the bed,” he growls at me, and I shiver. Goosebumps fly across my skin, and my nipples pebble. I dutifully do as he’s requested, but instead of laying on my back, I situate myself on my knees before laying down, pressing my chest to the bed as I reach between my legs. Taking back my pussy and playing with it. “Fuck me,” he breathes.

  “Get over here and I will,” I whine.

  I hear a breathy laugh, but then the telltale signs of him walking around the bed before it dips behind me. He places a wide, warm hand on my ass and squeezes before releasing it. Then he smacks it, and I mewl. There’s a slight pain, but it’s deliciously delectable. I’m surprised it doesn’t bother me, as it’s usually me doing the smacking. I kind of like this. I wiggle my ass in invitation.

  “Insatiable much?” His voice is full of humor and then his hand connects with my other cheek and I moan. My hand moves faster and harder against my clit. Looking for relief.

  “I need you,” I whine.

  “What do you need, precious?”

  The pet name makes my eyes roll up “You…in…me….” I say between bursts of pleasure inside me.

  “In where?” A finger presses against my asshole. “In here?”

  “Nooo,” I mewl. The sound comes out wanton and desperate, and while I wouldn’t mind having him there, I don’t have that kind of patience. “In my pussy,” I whimper when he presses his thumb into me. “Yes, there,” I cry out.

  He pulls his thumb out and slides it back up toward my ass. “Not here?” he chuckles softly.

  “Later,” I shiver.

  The bed shifts again, his thumb disappears completely and then I feel something wide and fat, his cock, rubbing against my sex. “Xavier,” I breathe, “please.”

  He presses into me, agonizingly slow. “Is this what you want?” He grips my hips, pulling me down onto him.

  “Yes,” I cry out. “Faster.”

  He pulls back, my pussy pulses and releases a fresh wave a slickness, and he feels it. I know he does because he slams back into me, all the way. My orgasm explodes, and I scream into the pillow, my entire body quaking with my orgasm and my senses go dull. Everything, except the fullness inside me.

  Chapter 24

  Dirk

  “Fuck,” I growl out sometime later when I explode inside her for the second time since she came on board. She’s whimpering and moaning as I rub out one more orgasm from her and I finally feel calmed. Not sated. God, I will never be sated when it comes to her, and neither will my cock. I swear he lives in a constant state of arousal around her. He likes being inside her. Needs to be inside her and only her.

  Somewhere in between orgasms, I flipped her over. I slowly extract myself from inside her and lay beside her. She smiles and rolls over, snuggling up to me. My rack, while bigger than the guys’ downstairs, isn’t a full-size full mattress either, so the only way for both of us to really fit on here is to cuddle. I wrap my arm around her and begin playing with one of her dreads. “Why dreads?” I ask, curious.

  She shrugs, “Why not?”

  “Fair enough.”

  “Do you not like them?” she asks, and she almost sounds like if I were to tell her no, she’d change it.

  “I love them.” It’s not a lie. “I was just curious why you chose to make a statement this way?”

  She laughs softly, “Because, I’m unassuming. It affords an anonymity outside of the corporate world, allowing me to blend in with people.” She laughs a little harder, “And it’s fun to fuck with people.”

  “How so?” I ask, now even more curious.

  “Because on the rare brazen occasion when I tell some big shot banker, or Wall Street type, what I do, they usually laugh and walk away. It’s a good way to get rid of people sometimes.”

  I shake my head. “You mean the ones you’re not interested in?”

  “Something like that.” Her eyes meet mine. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, I guess. I just didn’t think before asking the question.”

  She leans up on her elbow. “I should have been a little less forward about it.” She sighs, “But Dirk, you knew this already. Or at the very least, you claim to have known all this. We both have pasts.”

  “I’m more interested in the future,” I tell her. It’s true, I’m more interested in where this is going to go than what’s behind us.

  “How so?” she asks with narrowed eyes.

  “I don’t know, that’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

  She gives me a small smile before laying back down and wrapping herself around me again. “Me too,” she says so softly I have to strain to hear her.

  I don’t press her on it. I get the impression she’s speaking her mind without realizing it. She has a habit of doing that, and if I react to everything she says without noticing, then she’ll stop doing it. Her candid moments are important. Sometimes I don’t think I would get her candor without the little outbursts.

  We don’t say much for some time. just lying there holding each other. I continue playing with her hair, and she rubs small circles on my chest, tracing my tattoo. Gradually her fingers slow, and I look down to see she’s fallen asleep. I can’t help the face-splitting grin that spreads across my face. I got the impression Skylar doesn’t sleep much. Especially considering it was after 3:00 when we passed out this morning, and she was up and gone before 8:00.

  I lay there for a little while, just holding her. Thinking about her. Thinking about what it is we’re doing here. In a lot of ways, she’s right. We both live two very different lives in two very different places on opposite sides of the country. The reality of it is, I don’t care. I would walk to the ends of the earth for this woman. Now, I just need to find a way to prove it to her.

  As much as I hate to do it, I manage to extract myself from her a little while later. I would love to fall asleep with her like that, and I’m very much looking forward to doing it later on, but I need to go check on Jessie and Dribbler.

  I go into the bathroom, relieve myself and then get cleaned up before getting dressed.

  I grab one of the spare blankets and cover her with it. She stirs a bit but doesn’t wake. I smile at her when I kiss her forehead.

&n
bsp; When I leave, I turn off the light. There’s no windows in here, so it’s pretty dark. I made sure to plug in the little lamp in the bathroom so she would be able to see if she wakes.

  I go down into the galley then down into the wet room. Out on deck, they have about six boards pulled up and they’re working on the lines. “Hey guys,” I say, lighting up. “Diem stop by yet?”

  “Nope, not yet,” Dribbler says. “Everything alright in there?” He points to the house with his wrench.

  Perfect. “Yeah, it’s good. She’s sleeping.”

  “Ahh, wear her out, did ya?” Jessie chuckles.

  “Shut it, ass.” They both bust out laughing. I crouch down, looking at the lines. “How’s it going?”

  “Fine. We need to run in for a couple parts.” He hands me something, and I look at it, it’s completely rusted through. “We don’t have any on board. We also need to put an order in for more fluid. There was a leak,”—Dribbler points to a patch of tubing—“we didn’t know about until we started working on it. It could be fresh, but we have less fluid on board than I’m comfortable with.”

  “Understood.”

  “We’re going to do a couple things in the engine room, too. Just to make sure we’ve got what we need,” Dribbler adds.

  “We’ve got time. I’d rather be safe than sorry,” I tell them both. “Let me know what you need from me.”

  “When do you want to fuel her?” Jessie asks.

  “Tomorrow. I’m assuming parts and stuff will come tomorrow.”

  “Or Tuesday, depends. I noticed a few more boats coming in, and I know there’s two in major repair, so…” Dribbler pauses, doing something to the line. “We’re not in a hurry, I’m assuming?” He cocks an eyebrow at me.

  I blow the smoke from my last drag out. “No, definitely not that.”

  He laughs, “Then I’ll let them know. The smaller parts we’ll bring back with us so we can finish the repairs. I don’t want to be stuck at the dock fixin’ shit when the fluid arrives.”

  I take another drag. “Nope, me either.” Though, I really wouldn’t mind. But I keep that to myself.