“I just can’t…” she purses her lovely lips and I can tell that I’ve hit on a personal topic without meaning to.
“What have you been up to, anyway?” she asks me, suddenly, changing the subject.
“Oh, a lot,” I tell her.
She looks at me with interest but I can’t bring myself to continue. I realize what the problem is— the reason she doesn’t want to sleep with me. It’s because I had hurt her in the past, and she’s afraid of being hurt again. And rightfully so, I suppose.
There’s no way I can admit to her how I kept on fucking up my life after I fucked up our relationship. And the only good thing to come out of it is something she’d never understand. So I decide to stick to the obvious.
“I started a company,” I tell her. “Made lots of money. Became fucking filthy rich.”
She scrunches her cute nose at me in visible disgust. I’ve obviously said the wrong thing in my quest to keep things on a surface level.
“You know, I don’t get you,” she says, gulping down her drink as if she needs the liquid courage to speak her mind. “I really don’t.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Now I’m offended.
“In high school you were so gung ho about helping other people,” she says. “You joined the military telling me you were going to save the world. What happened to that guy?”
I look at her. I can see how she thinks about things this way. But I’m not ready to say what I would need to say to get her to try to understand me.
“You don’t even know,” she continues, shaking her head. “I guess that’s what real life does to some people. Because you became a dick. You were a dick to everyone, even me.”
“You’re right,” I say, because there’s nothing else to say about that except to man up to it. Sure, I have excuses, which didn’t come into existence before it was far too late to save us, but it’s too late to give them now. I should never have asked her to come for a drink with me. I already fucked up her life enough and all I have to give her is even more burdens and issues. “I was a dick to you. I’ve always wanted to tell you I’m sorry. So I guess I invited you here today to tell you I’m sorry.”
“I see,” she says, looking disappointed. “You’re sorry. And yet you became some rich douchebag who only cares about money.”
Ouch.
Her words hurt, and I think she realizes that even though I kind of deserve it, she’s being cruel. Her face softens.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I shouldn’t have said that. I just don’t know how someone could go from… the person I used to know and… like… to the person you are now.”
She carefully chose the word “like” out loud just like I had done in my head a little bit ago. Back then, we used the other “l” word. She’s the only one I had ever used it with. But clearly it didn’t work out so I don’t know what I’m even doing here. Sure, I’m sorry for the past, and I’m glad I got to tell her that. But I’m not going to sit here and be berated. I’m not that much of a glutton for punishment.
“How do you know what kind of person I am now?” I ask her. “Maybe it’s a mix of good and bad, just like pretty much every one else on the planet is.”
She looks at me like she’s considering this, but she clearly doesn’t want to consider it too much. And I can’t really blame her.
“You’re right,” she says, standing up to go. “But all I see is some rich asshole who left his values behind somewhere along the way.”
I look up at her.
“I know you’ve always distrusted people who have money,” I tell her. “And I get that. But that’s really painting everyone with a very broad brush. And things aren’t always what they seem on the surface level.”
She stares back at me, then nods.
“It was nice seeing you again, Wade.”
Something about her is hard and closed off, reminding me of just how much I’ve hurt her. Making me feel like the asshole I am.
No wonder she’s mad at me. No wonder she’s being rather cruel.
The best thing I can do for her right now is let her go for good.
But as she turns back to look at me one more time before leaving, I can’t help but second guess myself. Should I run after her? Beg her to forgive me and for one more chance?
No, I can’t. I’m just a rich asshole who broke her heart. That’s all she’ll ever see me as, no matter what I do. But, once she’s gone for good, a thought strikes me. I might as well do what I can to make it up to her.
Chapter 6 – Emily
As I leave the bar, I can’t help but look back one more time at Wade. He’s talking to the bartender, undoubtedly paying our tab.
Look back at me, I urge him, knowing it’s an unfair and selfish request. I’m the one who got up and left, even though he’s the one who deserved it.
He doesn’t look back at me. And I realize it’s better off that way.
So much for re-ignited chemistry. I should have known to leave the past in the past.
There was a reason I walked away the first time. But I still can't think straight now that his perfect abs, huge cock and tempting touch are back in my life.
As soon as I’m back home, I can’t stop thinking about him. I run a bath and hope to relax and read a good book to keep my mind off of him. But soon I’m back to what I do best—fantasizing about my high school boyfriend.
It’s pathetic, after all these years. But I have never been able to resist. And now that I’ve seen him face to face, he’s on my mind more than ever. I’m burning with lust for him and I’m actually quite proud of myself for not giving into his request to go home with him. I’ve got to do something to get him out of my system.
I lay my head back on the edge of the tub and spread my legs open underneath the bubbles, touching my clit the way that Wade used to touch it back in high school.
I had never let him go all the way. I wanted to wait for marriage. I honestly thought I’d be marrying him so I didn’t know I’d be giving up any opportunities. Now, I often regret that I didn’t give into him because at least I would have had the sweet release I’ve been wanting— needing— all these years.
I rub my clit in the same way that Wade used to, but he was better at it. And I finger myself, wishing it was Wade’s cock instead.
My slow fingering and rubbing of myself becomes more intense as I think about all the things Wade used to do to me. He would play with my nipples, suck on them, eat my pussy out like it was his job, and other times he’d bring me to climax just with his hand. He’s also shove his big cock down my throat and make me take all of it. He’d leave me a quivering mess and I couldn’t wait until we actually got married so he could fuck me.
But that never happened. He left for training and I stayed behind because I still had one more year of high school left before graduation and I also knew I wanted to go to college here since it was more affordable than going out of state. The plan was to have a long distance relationship until at some point we could get married.
But he turned into a real dick. Every time I asked him a question on the phone, it was met with a rude and curt reply. It’s like he didn’t want me to know anything about what was going on with his life, but he became increasingly jealous about mine.
I’d never given him any reason not to trust me and I didn’t appreciate the fact that it seemed as if he didn’t. I tried to talk to him about it but it was like trying to have a conversation with a brick wall. And any time I brought anyone up— a teacher, a classmate— he’d become instantly suspicious and pepper me with questions he demanded answers to, even though he never answered any of my otherwise innocuous questions.
I just couldn’t put up with it any more. I decided he had changed into someone I didn’t know any more. I broke up with him, and told myself to never look back.
Yet here I am fantasizing about him just like I have every night since I last saw him. Now that I saw him again, I want him more than ever. I regret what happe
ned, but he’s obviously still a dick— now, he’s a rich douche to boot— so all I have are my fantasies.
I rub myself faster now, a fury of love and hate combining inside me as I pleasure myself. For the millionth time, I imagine Wade bending me over and spreading my legs wide for him. Then he’ll take my virginity, with that big cock that I know he has and I also know that he knows how to use.
I feel a climax coming on and I imagine him thrusting himself in and out of me like my own fingers are right now. I want him to grab my breasts like he used to do— and grab my hips and ass too— as he fucks me from behind.
I need him. I want him. Against all my better instincts, I just know I’d let him take me if there was a good opportunity.
And then I come, a wave of pleasure ripping throughout my entire body as I moan his name out loud.
“Wade. Wade. Wade.”
Finally, I can relax. I soak in the bubbles for a while and then soap myself up. I towel off and then I bring my iPad to bed with me so I can browse the Internet before I fall asleep. If I can fall asleep— even though I know that dreams of Wade will haunt me, like they usually do.
My eyelids feel heavy as soon as I lie down against the pillow. I know that as soon as I fall asleep, I might jolt awake with anxiety over just having lost my job and blown my second chance with my ex. So I better I’m just about to give in and drift up to sleep when I see a new email notification.
It’s from Wade. It was sent half an hour ago— while I was in the tub thinking about him.
Dear Emily,
It was a pleasure running into you today. I apologize if I offended you by bringing up the past. Let’s concentrate on the future going forward, and keep things professional.
I believe that what the hotel did in firing you was unfair as you are clearly a hard worker and passionate person; the world needs more employees with these qualities. For that reason, I would like to offer you a job with my company. The hours are flexible and can fit around your school schedule.
If you would like to accept, please report to 346 Gold St., Suite M, on Tuesday. If not, no hard feelings and I wish you all the best in the future.
Sincerely,
Wade Covington
My heart flutters as I read and re-read his email. He would like to concentrate on the future and keep things professional. I know I should be happy to read this but instead I feel sad. He’s offering me a job, which I desperately need right now— and it can work with my school schedule, unlike the job I just lost.
It’s too good of an offer to pass up, no matter how it might complicate things. I need the job. And, I think, as I realize I can sleep peacefully tonight after all, I need to see him again. Perhaps there is still hope for a second chance for us after all.
Chapter 7 – Wade
When I arrive at Kirtland Air Force Base, Jensen is loading up a few planes, ready to run a parachuting session with the recruits.
“Hey Wade,” he nods. “Glad you could make it. Got a tough run today and I don’t think these newbies have any idea what they’re in store for.”
“Glad I can be here,” I tell him, and I certainly am.
I’m no longer in the Air Force but now that I’ve moved back to Albuquerque to head up my company, I’ve started volunteering to help Jensen train new pararescue recruits, which is his job as a private contractor. I’m grateful for the opportunity to get out from behind the desk and into the fresh outdoors, and do what I love once again.
I’m even happier to be here today than any other day in a while, since my reunion with Emily still keeps playing games with my head. I hate the fact that I still can’t get her off my mind.
“In this exercise a real- life parachuting experience will be simulated,” Jensen tells the group of recruits, and begins giving them instructions. “Since it’s your first time in such a situation, you need to listen up good.”
He gives instructions and then we both cover each of them while they jump. The exhilarating falls sufficiently distract me for a while. But they also remind me of that fateful day that turned things around for me for the worse.
I don’t want to freak out. Through my headphones, I start playing an app that calms me. It reminds me to breathe, to be grateful, to be aware in here and now. And that gets me through the training event. Ever since I made the app, I haven’t had a major episode but there’s no telling when one might come back. I’m not a doctor— and those were useless for me— but only an app designer.
As we walk back towards our starting point, I return to thinking of how glad I am to be here. It’s exciting to be helping him train the next generation of boys in uniform— even if they are our replacements— but I’m still upset that Emily left like that. She should have come home with me and I’d have been in her pants in no time. Damn, how I wanted to feel those full breasts and voluptuous ass with my own hands.
I’ve been jerking off constantly, sliding my hand up and down my shaft while wishing I could stick it inside her. I didn’t pop her cherry but I wish there was a way to savor her sweet, innocent gooiness. I’ve thought about tying her up, teasing her with my tongue and lips and mouth, until she’s begging me to fuck her with my cock. I’ve thought about riding her until she’s weak in the knees and completely out of breath.
I decide to tell Jensen about this new development in my life, before it drives me crazy.
“So, you know that waitress at the ceremony last night?” I ask him.
“The slow one?” he laughs.
“She wasn’t slow,” I quickly defend her. “Just late.”
“Okay, so the late one,” he agrees.
I laugh.
I was expecting him to say “the hot one” but he’s gaga for Riley. Just thinking about how hot Emily is, though, makes my cock half hard.
“That’s Emily Mason,” I tell Jensen.
“No shit,” he says, shaking his head while smiling at me. “The Emily Mason? The one you could never shut up about back in the day.”
“That’s her,” I confess.
“So what are you going to do about it?” he asks me.
Good old Jensen. Always straight forward and to the point.
“I bought her a drink and tried to take her home,” I admit. “But she wasn’t having any of that.”
“Aww man,” he says. “Gotta keep trying harder then.”
“Yeah, I was a dick to her.”
“Are you going to explain why?”
He’s looking straight at me, and we both know how hard that would be to do. Jensen has been through a lot, just like me. Just like his brothers Harlow and Ramsey. Just like everyone in our unit.
I shrug.
“I don’t even know if she’ll give me a chance. I actually offered her a job.”
“You did?”
He looks surprised.
“I felt bad. She got fired from the hotel.”
“No offense, but she kind of deserved to.”
I can’t help but chuckle along with him.
“She had a class that ran late,” I tell him. “She needs a job that can work around her school schedule, because she’s really into this social work program she’s building. I figured I could help her out.”
“Yeah right,” Jensen grins. “You figured you could sexually harass her at the office.”
“Ha.”
But the thought of being with Emily at work— or at home, or out here in the mountains— or anywhere at all really, makes me hard again.
“You tell her about… anything else?” Jensen asks, raising his eyebrows at me.
I know exactly what he’s talking about, but I don’t want to even go there.
“No way,” I tell him. “I highly doubt she’d understand that. That’s more of like, a third date conversation.”
“Look at Mr. No Commitment, already planning the third date,” Jensen laughs.
“That’s really something, isn’t it? But it doesn’t matter,” I tell him. “She probably won’t even show up at the office. She th
inks I’m a rich asshole.”
“You’re just going to have to prove her wrong then, right?” he asks.
I smile, impressed at his tenacity.
“I’ll sure try.”
If I even ever get to see her again, that is.
Chapter 8 – Emily
I’m so nervous as I enter Covington Enterprises that I hope I’m not visibly shaking. I can’t believe I’m coming to work for my ex, who despite being a dick, has consumed a lot of brain power since we last parted ways and every second of my mind since I last saw him.
It’s also hard for me to believe that I’m coming to work for a big corporation that undoubtedly does unscrupulous things all in the name of making money. On that count, however, I figure it’s no worse than the mega chain hotel I worked at up until they fired me. A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.
“Hello,” I tell the receptionist as soon as I enter the suite. “I’m Emily Mason. I was told by Mr. Covington that…”
“That you are to start today,” the receptionist says, smiling at me in happy welcome as if I’m the Queen of England. I look around the fancy office with lots of dressed up people— I’ve simply worn a skirt and blouse, and I feel terribly underdressed— and suddenly I feel important. The receptionist was told I would be starting today. I realize, however, that I have no idea what kind of job I’ll actually be starting. Nor even how much I’ll be getting paid. “Right this way.”
He leads me over to a computer that says my name on it when it starts up. Wow, I think. They really were prepared for me.
“Mr. Covington told me to give you these instructions,” the receptionist says. “He says your pay rate will be twenty-five dollars an hour to start out, if that is acceptable for you?”
I nod, trying not to let my mouth fall open.
“Yes,” I say quickly, as soon as I remember how to think. “That will be fine.”
It’s more than twice what I was paid by the hotel, so it’s more than fine.
Hot Single Daddy: A Second Chance, First Time Romance Page 4