Second Chance on Cypress Lane--Includes a Bonus Novella

by Reese Ryan

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Dexter had gone for a walk around the small island town, so different from his own, to clear his head. Hungry again after their long day, he stopped in an Irish pub and grabbed a burger, the house fries, and a glass of Irish whiskey.

  Despite the late hour, the place was bustling with patrons and there was a live band playing. He sighed as he bit into one of his steaming-hot fries.

  Dakota would like this place.

  She’d always loved little holes in the wall with amazing food and lots of character.

  Dexter shook his head. He’d come here to forget about Dakota and that kiss—their second in two days—and yet she was all he could think about. The taste of her mouth, the softness of her lips, how it felt to have her body nestled against his.

  He’d reminded himself of all the reasons he shouldn’t want her. Reminded himself that while this might be a nostalgic fling for her, every moment, every touch, every kiss rocked him to his very foundation. Poked at the wound she’d left on his heart, making it bleed. After all this time, Dakota Jones could still bring him to his knees with a look or the pout of her lush lips.

  He’d known the photo booth was a bad idea. That it would take them too far down memory lane while putting them in dangerously close proximity. More than the car ride or their dance at the end of the show. But he hadn’t known how to articulate the reasons they shouldn’t do it without revealing the truth.

  He was still very much in love with her.

  Dexter wanted Dakota so badly he could taste it. And he didn’t want one night or even a few months with her. He wanted to go to bed each night knowing her gorgeous face and sweet smile would be the first he’d see every morning. He wanted her honeyed voice to be the last one he heard every night.

  He’d tossed and turned last night, visions of Dakota walking toward him on the beach in a white dress shifting through his head. And the dream that had shaken him most…the two of them in that glass elevator together with two kids of their own and another on the way. Happy and in love.

  Dexter took another bite of his burger and fought off thoughts of Dakota, of the mistakes he’d made in the past, of the hard choice he was forced to make now.

  Whatever this is, son…all I ask is that you be honest with her about it this time.

  Oliver’s words had been floating in his brain since their talk on the man’s front porch.

  Chief Jones hadn’t tried to interfere or put a stop to the relationship they were rebuilding. Nor had he advised Dexter to stay away from his daughter, as he had long ago when he’d realized they’d become more than running partners and friends.

  He’d simply asked that Dexter have the decency to be honest with his daughter. A fair request going forward. But telling her the truth about the past could hurt her in a way she might never recover from. He wouldn’t do that to her. Not when there was no indication it would be worth the pain and anguish that he’d have to put her through.

  Dexter paced his hotel room. He’d returned after his meal, showered, and hopped into bed. But he was restless, his brain going a mile a minute and his body aching with desire.

  Maybe he’d been looking at this all wrong. Maybe this was something the two of them simply needed to get out of their systems so they could move on.

  The dream is always better than the reality.

  It was something his father had always said. The implication had depressed him. That the dream of having a wife and a family had been far more appealing to his father than reality and the countless responsibilities that went along with it. But over the years, he’d come to realize that there was quite often truth in those words.

  The fantasy of being a star college football player was far different from his day-to-day life. The discipline, the grueling workouts, the sacrifices, the injuries. There had been relationships, jobs, and apartments that started off seemingly perfect. Glittering with hope and promise. Only to quickly devolve into the stuff of nightmares. Or at the very least, turn out to be a colossal disappointment.

  Perhaps what was happening between him and Dakota was the same. A mirage masquerading as an oasis in the desert, it only appeared real. In reality, its quenching “waters” would be nothing more than a mouth filled with sand.

  They were both consumed with their desire for one another. But would the reality live up to the fantasy?

  Dexter stood in front of the mirror and glanced down at the small shaving kit he’d placed on the bathroom counter.

  Maybe it was time to find out.

  * * *

  Dakota had returned to her room, hit the shower, then gone to bed. Okay, that wasn’t exactly true. She’d gotten to know the removable showerhead quite intimately; then she’d gone to bed, hoping that the temporary high would stave off her cravings for the man she was obviously still incapable of resisting.

  She’d actually managed to get a couple of hours of sleep. But then she’d awakened hungry and eaten the salsa and chips she’d picked up at the hotel shop earlier that evening. She’d managed to spill some of the salsa on her nice comfy pajamas, so she was glad she’d thrown another nightgown in her bag.

  Dakota picked up the book about the history of the jazz festival she’d purchased in the gift shop the day before. She would read until she dozed off to sleep again.

  There was a knock at her door. She checked her phone. It was well after midnight.

  Maybe someone came to the wrong room.

  She stayed in bed, not moving as she stared at the door to see if they would go away.

  There was another, harder knock. This time she recognized the voice loudly whispering her name.

  First she was surprised, then annoyed.

  Dexter Roberts seemed determined to torture her. Why else would he come to her room this late when he’d made it clear he only wanted to be friends?

  Dakota glanced down at her nightgown. It wasn’t overtly sexy. But it wasn’t the kind of thing she’d wear to answer the door.

  She slipped out of bed and put on the robe hanging in the bathroom. Dakota loosely tied the belt around her waist, unlocked the door, and cracked it open just enough so Dexter could see her face.

  His ruddy, copper-colored skin was flushed, and he stammered, then cleared his throat when he greeted her. But he didn’t sound like he was drunk. He seemed…flustered. Nervous.

  It was unlike Dexter. His claim to fame had been his unreadable expression. He’d been as good at shielding his true feelings as he’d been at surprising the defense with his signature no-look pass. He’d focus on one player downfield, as if he’d intended to throw the ball to him, only to pass it with pinpoint accuracy to an entirely different player.

  Dakota opened the door wider. “Dex, what is it? What’s wrong?”

  “I know it’s late,” he said, not answering her question. “But is it okay if I come in?”

  Dakota held open the door, allowing him to step inside. He wore a button-down shirt over a simple white tee and a pair of jeans.

  Dexter closed the door behind him. But before she could ask again what was wrong, he’d cradled her face in his hands and captured her mouth in a hungry, deliberate kiss. The tentativeness he’d displayed in the photo booth was gone.

  Dakota gasped in surprise. But after the initial shock, she pressed her fingertips to his back. She needed to know this was real. Not one of the dreams that had left her tossing and turning in bed for the past two nights.

  He tipped her head back, sweeping his tongue inside her mouth and gliding it along hers as he kissed her harder and deeper. She worried that this kiss would end in the same frustrating stalemate as the others. But then he loosened her robe and slipped his large hands beneath the garment as he pulled her to him.

  “I want you, Dakota. Here. Now.” His voice quaked with a need that made her tremble and the space between her thighs ache for him. He dropped a featherlight kiss on the shell of her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.

  “Yes.” She nodded, wetting her lip
s with her tongue. “Please.”

  His mouth quirked in a lopsided smile as he leaned in and nibbled on her lower lip. He sucked it between his, then kissed her again. One hand braced her back. The other glided over her bottom. He gripped her flesh, bringing her body flush against his.

  Dexter’s growing length pressed hard against her belly, evoking a quiet gasp from her, which his greedy kiss swallowed before the sound could escape her lips.

  A jolt of electricity trailed down her arms and legs, causing a steady pulse between her thighs and the beading of her sensitive nipples, crushed against the hardness of his chest.

  Dakota slipped one shoulder out of the robe, and Dexter shoved the fabric off the other shoulder, helping her shrug off the garment. She returned the favor by helping him out of the button-down and T-shirt. Dakota took a moment to admire his strong chest and the fine smattering of hair that trailed down below his waistband.

  She looped her arms around Dexter’s neck, crushing her mouth against his, hungry for more of his kiss. He palmed her bottom, hauling her against his hardened length. Dexter groaned, deepening their increasingly desperate kiss.

  The carnal sound had always given her a heady sense of power over him. He was bigger, faster, taller. But her touch and kiss brought such a strong, disciplined man to his knees.

  Dexter lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her to the bed, a few feet away. He deposited her there, crawling onto the bed after her.

  “You smell like coconut and vanilla,” he murmured as he kissed her shoulder.

  “It’s my body wash.” Her response was automatic, though she doubted he cared about such an insignificant detail at a time like this. “Glad you like it.”

  “Almost as much as the woman wearing it.” His beard abraded her skin as he trailed hot kisses along her neck. “But you know what I can’t stop wondering?”

  She shook her head, unable to form a string of intelligible words. He’d found that spot on her neck that was an erogenous zone for her. That turned her blood to hot, molten lava and rendered her incapable of basic speech and sensible decisions.

  “For the past month I’ve been wondering if you taste as good as you look.”

  Oh shit.

  She nearly came undone at the mere thought. She and Dex had been young, her sexual experience limited to him. They’d never done that. The mere thought of his lips on her there made her heated skin tingle with anticipation.

  “I’ve been wondering the same about you.” She surveyed the beautiful man hovering over her. She inhaled his intoxicating scent, her hands roaming the expanse of his strong chest.

  Dexter’s mouth curled in a wicked smile that sent tingles down her spine. “Me first.”

  He pressed hot, openmouthed kisses to her chest. Then he helped her lift the nightgown over her head, tossing it onto the floor before he resumed the trail down her body. He sucked her taut, sensitive nipples, grazing them gently with his teeth before soothing them with a lap of his tongue and a tender kiss. He lavished attention on one, then the other before gliding down her body, laying erotic kisses on her belly, then dipping lower.

  The sound of her heartbeat filled her ears and her breath came harder and faster as he neared the damp space desperately longing for his mouth.

  Every inch of her skin was so sensitive, he could probably blow on her aching clit and she would shatter into a million satisfied pieces. He seemed fully aware of how desperately she needed him there. He teased her with slow, lingering kisses. Seemed to enjoy heightening her anticipation. To relish every murmur as he kissed a path down her body. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of her panties, tugging the silky fabric down her legs. She lifted her hips, permitting him to remove the barrier to his touch.

  He shifted so his shoulders were beneath her thighs as he kissed lower and lower, still avoiding the slick, sensitive bud. Her pulse raced and her body trembled with anticipation.

  Finally, he licked her there.

  “Oh God,” she whimpered. The first flick of his tongue sent a wave of pleasure through her, her belly tensing. Back arched and pulse pounding, she gripped the sheets, riding the delicious sensations until he’d taken her over the edge, her body quivering and spent.

  Dex sighed contentedly, then kissed his way back up her body, over her belly, then through the valley between her breasts. He nibbled on her neck, then grazed the skin behind her ear.

  Dakota brushed her fingertips over his skin, sweeping them up his spine as he lay beside her wearing a satisfied smile.

  “That was…amazing.” She dragged a thumb along his lower lip, then pressed her mouth to his.

  He grinned, a mischievous glint in his dark eyes. He whispered gruffly, “Babe, that was only the beginning.”

  * * *

  Dexter stood, retrieving the strip of foil packets from his back pocket. He tossed them on the bedside table, then he shed his remaining clothing and sheathed himself.

  He was revved up enough from the way Dakota had fallen apart after he took her over the edge with his mouth. But watching her appreciative stare as her breath hitched turned him on in a way words couldn’t describe. Her eyes followed the gentle bobbing of his painfully hard length with every movement.

  “He missed you, too,” Dex said as he climbed beneath the covers beside her.

  “Oh yeah? On a scale of one to ten, how much would you say he missed me?”

  “Definitely a twenty.” He kissed her neck.

  “Not mathematically possible,” she countered, giggling as he nibbled on the tender flesh behind her ear.

  “But dickmatically possible,” he assured her.

  Dakota dissolved into laughter.

  He sifted her shiny, mahogany curls through his fingers. “A lesser man’s confidence might be shaken by the giggling,” he teased.

  Her smile deepened as she turned to face him. “Which is why I make it a policy never to deal with lesser men.”

  “Touché.” He pressed a soft kiss to her lips, then another.

  He’d always loved kissing Dakota. But there was something truly incredible about the ones they’d shared these past few days. Each touch of their lips ignited a fire inside him, making him crazy with need. Desperate with want.

  Dakota was the first woman he’d ever loved. She had a power over him no other woman possessed. That no other woman ever would.

  He tangled his fingers in the curls he’d always adored. Reveled in the delicious sensation of Dakota’s soft, bare skin against his. Without breaking their kiss, he found the space between her thighs. He delved one finger, then another inside her slick channel. His thumb teased the taut, sensitive bundle of nerves as he glided his fingers in and out of her. He swallowed every moan, every curse coming from her lips.

  Dakota ground her hips against his hand, her breathing increasingly shallow, her gasps and soft murmurs intensifying. The movement of her hips became more demanding with every stroke. She gripped his shoulders, her fingernails biting into his flesh, straddling the line between pain and pleasure, without breaking the skin.

  He curled his fingers inside her. She sucked in a deep breath, her eyes widening as her mouth formed a sensual little O. She tensed, her legs quivering as she called out his name.

  There is no sweeter sound.

  Dex kissed her. Cradled her as she slowly descended. Positioned himself at her entrance and savored every ounce of pleasure as he inched inside her. He drove his hips forward, intoxicated by the overpowering sensation as her body welcomed his.

  God, he loved that blissful expression on her gorgeous face.

  If only for tonight, Dakota was his again.

  He clasped their joined hands above her head as they moved together. Until he tumbled over the edge, free-falling into a deep abyss of pleasure that rocked him to his very core.

  Dexter rolled onto his back and gathered her in his arms. He kissed her forehead, damp with perspiration.

  He loved this woman. Wanted her in his life forever
. But if all they had was tonight, he would never, ever regret it.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Beams of sunlight broke through the curtains and fell across Dakota’s face, waking her. Her eyelids fluttered as she slowly regained consciousness. She rolled onto her back and sighed contentedly. Then eyes fully open, she jerked to a sitting position.

  Dexter.

  She’d slept with Dexter Roberts. Not in her head, where it was safe and no one need know. In the real world, where there were consequences and repercussions.

  Dakota checked her phone. It wasn’t quite seven thirty, and Dex was gone. The scent of his skin still clung to the pillow and sheets. His clothes were gone, too, except for the T-shirt hanging on the edge of the chair.

  She was still very naked. Climbing out of bed, she pulled on his T-shirt and stumbled to the bathroom, groggy and half-awake. She’d neglected to put on her silk bonnet, so her curls were a tangled mess. She washed her face and brushed her teeth.

  Dakota pressed a hand to her trembling belly as she recalled the comfort, warmth, and intimacy she’d felt falling asleep in Dexter’s arms last night. Before they’d been teenagers, both still living with their parents. So sleeping over was something they hadn’t done. Her chest expanded at the memory of her cheek pressed to his heart as he snored quietly after drifting off.

  Had he left in the middle of the night after she’d fallen asleep? Or early this morning?

  Either way, he’d dipped, avoiding the awkward morning-after conversation.

  And maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

  Dakota took a quick shower, then slipped on her robe. The click of the lock drew her attention to the door as it swung open.

  Dexter stepped inside. Handsome, beard trimmed, and smelling like he’d just stepped out of the shower himself. He set down a bag and a tray with two steaming cups of coffee.