A Perfect Chance

by Becca Lee

  Lena was so fucking receptive, my control splintered completely. My hand shot down to the thin fabric of her sleep shorts, manoeuvred past the elastic, and my fingers pressed against her pussy. I broke the kiss with a groan when my fingers touched the wet heat between her legs. I stared into her eyes when I slid the first finger inside her, needing to know she wanted this as much as I did. Her eyes stayed glued to mine, and I fucking loved what I saw. Need, desire, and no hesitation.

  Lena bit her bottom lip when I inserted a second finger and worked her pussy.

  "Do you want this?" I needed to know. Fuck, even if her words, her voice, threatened to push me over the edge before I even entered her, I needed them so fucking badly.

  She nodded and her eyes fluttered closed. She then raised her hips, pushing against my fingers.

  "Lena, open your eyes and tell me you want this, want me inside you."

  Her eyes sprung open, and she gasped when I worked my fingers in a come-hither motion, brushing against her wet walls and feeling her pulsing already.

  "Mace, I need you to fuck me."

  This woman blew my mind. It was not what I’d expected from her sweet mouth.

  "Hard," she added and rocked against my fingers.

  "Fuck, woman." I kissed her hard, thrusting my tongue into her mouth, my fingers pumping inside her. I needed to get her to my room before I took her bare. Reluctantly, I pulled my fingers away from her; she groaned my name and squealed when I lifted her back up and strode out of the bathroom straight to my bedroom.

  Placing her on the bed, I caressed her breasts before lowering my hands to her shorts and pulling them down. She lifted her hips eagerly. "And your top," I directed, reaching out to my bedside table, pulling open the drawer and removing a condom.

  She tugged off her top as I made quick work of my clothes. Once naked, I ripped open the packet and held back my groan when she swiftly removed the condom from me, grabbed my throbbing cock, and deftly positioned the latex over my dick.

  "Next time, I want that in my mouth first."

  My eyes widened in surprise before I hauled her to me and repositioned her on the bed before pressing my mouth against hers and slamming into her. We both broke free from the kiss with a gasp and a moan. Lena was fucking perfect. Her dirty mouth, her heat wrapped around my cock, her breast in my hand, fucking perfect.

  I raised my hips to gain access to her clit. There was no way I was going to last. With one arm pressed against the side of her, taking my weight, I used the other to find her clit. I found it easily. It was swollen in her excitement; a few flicks and I'd have her screaming. I rubbed her clit, pinching softly as we moved against each other. Lena kept in time. I attempted to hold in my groan, but then she circled her hips, making my cock twitch and throb impossibly hard. "Fuck me!" I all but gasped, stroking over her clit more rigorously and ploughing into her harder.

  Pressure built at the base of my spine and my balls tightened. "Fuck, Lena, come for me." I increased the pressure against her swollen bud, imagining how next time I would enjoy tasting her and making her come in my mouth. Lena drew in a sharp breath at the increased pressure. If I could have smiled, I would have. It seemed she enjoyed a rough, strong touch.

  I kept my eyes open and stared at her face. She seemed to be fighting her release. "Lena," I grunted. Her eyes connected with mine. "Let go, baby."

  Lena cried out. "Almost. I don't want it to stop, please."

  Her plea was desperate, but it was no use, my orgasm was too close.

  I gritted my teeth, determination to make sure she spiralled into oblivion before I chased my own need driving me. I shifted to my knees, still deep inside her, lifting her legs into the air. Her ankles rested against my shoulders. I grabbed her thigh, my other hand still working her clit, as I drove into her hard, lifting her hips with each thrust. I was deep, so perfectly deep.

  Unable to hold back, I pinched Lena's clit, and she screamed. Her pussy pulsated around my cock while I gripped her hips with both hands and slammed into her even harder. I let go, succumbing to the need to fill her and then stilling as my orgasm hit. Lena's name sprang free unbidden. A claim. A desire for her to be mine. I had no idea if I was able to fully open myself up to a woman again, but it seemed Lena had made that decision for me. An intense need to fuck Lena every day for the rest of my life consumed me. Buried inside her, I swept a tendril of hair from her face, half anticipating her panic to kick in. When Lena smiled and brushed a kiss against my palm, all thought of anxiety fled.

  Lena was mine.

  Chapter Eight

  LENA

  I lay cradled in Mace's arms, barely believing what had just happened. I couldn't lie to myself and say that the two of us together had been the furthest thing from my mind. I'd fantasised about him so often, that would have been impossible. But when I'd escaped to the bathroom, trying to hide my tears because I thought I was screwing things up for him and I'd have to leave, the last thing I expected was to pounce on the dude, demanding a kiss and all but ordering him to fuck me.

  My cheeks burned at the memory of my inner slut that came out to party with Mace.

  Mace stroked his finger softly against my skin. I edged back so I could look at him. Damn, he was so freakin' hot. I could happily soak up the sexiness of him and bask in it all day. Throw in the mind-blowing orgasm he'd given me, and I could last a lifetime in a happy glow.

  "What are you thinking?"

  With his hands caressing my warm cheeks, it didn't take a genius to realise he'd noticed my blush. "Just thinking about us and what happened," I admitted. He raised a brow, indicating I should continue. I didn't miss the worry appearing on his usually schooled features. "I've never done that before." Mace froze, eyes widening in panic. "No," I reassured on a laugh. "I've had sex before." While a glimmer of relief appeared on his face, it also darkened at my admission. I fought back an eye-roll. "I meant been so demanding. Told a man what I wanted." It was difficult maintaining eye contact with him. Not only was his focus intently on me, but embarrassment crawled across my skin.

  "You were fucking perfect." He shifted and leaned in to kiss me. I sighed against his lips, sure that I'd have to start pinching myself at some point. He pulled away all too soon. "Always tell me what you want, what you need. It was hot."

  I latched on to the word “always”, not daring to hope that it would mean this could happen again between us. I'd never known Mace with a woman before. I'd heard there'd been a few over the years, but not many, and never twice. It was damn hard to keep a secret in the club for long.

  He was still gazing down at me, and I realised I hadn't responded. I'd been staring in wide-eyed wonder at him. I cleared my throat. "Okay." When he smiled at me, my own mouth formed a wide grin. A smiling Mace was so hot. I reached out and stroked his bottom lip with the pad of my thumb. "You should smile more often."

  He caught my hand in his and pulled my palm to his mouth, placing a light kiss on my sensitive skin. "Keep giving me something to smile about and I'll see what I can do."

  Biting my bottom lip to hold back the grin that threatened to be so damn wide I was sure I'd look like a dork, I nodded.

  "What?" he asked.

  I shook my head at him and a lightness I hadn't experienced in such a long time settled in my chest. Over the last few weeks, I’d finally been feeling more like my old self. I was gaining more independence, more confidence. I laughed and joked more. And while I took ownership of that, knowing it was my own resolve and fierce determination that had got me to this point, Mace also had a big part to play in my healing.

  Flipping me on my back, Mace gently pinned my hands above my head as he settled between my legs. "What?" he repeated.

  Unable to contain my smile any longer, I let it spread easily across my face to the point of hurting my cheeks. "I just…" I hesitated, not sure how much to reveal. Taking the chance, I continued, "You, this, us. It took me by surprise." His eyes remained steady, waiting for more. "Don't get me wrong, I've thought ab
out it a lot. And by a lot, I mean since I first met you." It seemed I was revealing all my secrets. While a flicker of anxiety at my honesty came to life in my stomach, I was no longer the naïve girl from when I was at uni. Too many years and nightmares had passed for that. With the decision to be the woman I wanted to be firming my resolve, my voice strengthened. "I wanted this to happen, and I want it to continue to happen, Mace."

  Sure, this “new” version of me was raising her awesome head, but that didn't stop me from waiting anxiously for him to respond and wondering if I'd pushed a little too far. I tried and failed to not remind myself that everything I knew about Mace included his being methodically distant since I'd known him, and it most definitely did not include relationships.

  His eyes roamed my face, his expression serious. "I don't know if I can be who you need me to be."

  I swallowed and then tentatively touched his cheek. "But you're you. Why would I need you to be anyone else?"

  His eyes widened at my words before he tilted his head slightly. He was considering something. I wasn't quite sure what that was yet. I just hoped it didn't result in me being mortified.

  Determination crossed his features, a combination of his jaw tightening and his eyes softening. Mace leaned down and pressed his lips against mine once more. Our lips moved together lightly, with a tenderness that I did not expect. Pulling away before the kiss had time to build up, he looked down at me again. "I want this to happen too. I want you in my bed every night."

  Damn, that was one hell of a statement.

  A thrill of excitement rushed through me. I could never imagine Mace saying something he didn't mean, or something he wouldn't make happen. "I like that idea."

  He grinned widely and planted another kiss on my mouth. This time, there'd be no pulling away. I was determined to celebrate our new relationship with Mace buried deep inside me.

  ####

  Mace had brought brunch to bed. We'd since devoured it, and each other again, and were talking. We were wrapped up in each other, my body half-sprawled over him, while sort of watching the movie that played on the screen.

  It was an easy decision to stay in bed for the day. Not only did it allow us the time to get to know each other better, but with the threat of Riots up in the air, there wasn't really another place for us to go. When Diesel had spoken to me the previous day, he'd shared enough for me to understand two things: stay with Mace and stay inside.

  Knowing Diesel was out doing who the hell knew what filled me with dread. It always did. But he'd always come home to me, to protect me, and I had to believe he would continue to do so until I could do those things for myself. It wasn't the time to worry about him or doubt him.

  Plain and simple, he was a hard-arse. Long before he'd become president of the club, the illegal elements had been cleaned up and cast aside. Well, mostly. Sometimes the guys were a law unto themselves, but only if they were forced to step up. Considering the evil I knew existed in the world, I was more than okay with that.

  The whisper-soft stroke of Mace’s fingers against the scar on my chest made me smile. There was a time when even the look of it, touch of it, damn, the thought of it had sent me into a panic attack. It had taken a heap of therapy and support for me to embrace the scar as a part of who I was. But it didn't define me. The same couldn't be said so much about my agoraphobia, but I was working my arse off to make it the case.

  "Diesel told me the full story about this." Mace continued to caress my scar.

  I nodded. "I know. I told him he could."

  He pressed his lips against my head. "You're one of the strongest women I know."

  I snorted. "Hardly. I was lucky." I shook my head, seriousness filling my words when I continued, "Considering I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, I was lucky enough to be in the right place. You know?" He remained silent. "If I'd chosen a different seat. If I hadn't hidden away." I gulped, my next words weighing heavily. "If I hadn't even smiled at that fucking murderer… I wouldn't be here. That's not strong."

  I believed every word. I wasn't looking for an ego boost or even an affirmation that I was brave. I wasn’t. I'd run and hid. I honestly believed if I hadn't smiled at the guy when he'd entered the coffee shop, he wouldn't have come looking for me. He certainly wouldn't have spoken to me, touched me, cut me. By doing that, he gave the police time to save me. That tentative smile in its own weird way had helped save my life. That and the cop who'd put a bullet through his brain.

  Mace continued his ministrations across my chest. "Do you not think surviving shows your strength?" It was my turn to remain silent. "Many wouldn't have had the strength to run and hide. Most would have been too terrified and stayed put. More than that, you've come out the other side."

  My unattractive snort burst free again. "I'd hardly call panic attacks and jumping between a few safe places coming out the other side."

  "Do you honestly believe that?"

  The truth was I wasn't 100 percent sure anymore. The last thing I wanted was to discredit what I'd been through or belittle it even. Too many people had died that day for me to do that. And while I had improved and was reaching normalcy every day, I wasn't there yet. Maybe that was what I was frustrated by.

  "No, I don't," I admitted. "I am lucky, though."

  "Yes, you are," he agreed.

  "And I appreciate it so much that I survived, that I'm here. How could I not?" I huffed out a breath. "Perhaps I'm stronger than I give myself credit for, but I can't help but feel as though I should… hell, I don't even know. All those people died. I think I owe it to them all to remember that day." A tear escaped, quickly followed by more. "Why should I get to be so lucky? Fuck. Do I sound like a martyr? That's the last thing I want. It's just all so confusing." I'd shared similar thoughts to past psychiatrists and counsellors, even some to Diesel, but never anyone else. Just a few bloody hours into our relationship and I was pouring out my soul. I was amazed he wasn't packing my bag and dumping my arse on the club steps.

  "I think it'll always be confusing. How can you make sense of what happened? You can't. Nobody can. Terrorism, in any shape and form, is beyond our comprehension." He placed another kiss on my head, and his lips remained close to my hair when he continued, "All you can do is live, take a chance on life. Hell, own it. Don't let it own you. Because you're smiling, moving on, it doesn't mean you have to let go of what happened, that you're ignoring it. You'll never forget, but you can start to recall the memory with strength."

  I listened attentively, sniffing through tears that were free-falling down my cheeks.

  "Own the memory and allow it to help shape you into the person you want to be. That's how you honour the lives lost. That's how you show your gratitude. It's also how you show the motherfuckers who tried to break you that you won."

  He turned me in his arms so my face rested on his bare chest. He held me close until my tears ran dry. I was so close to achieving it all. The thought registered and then buzzed through me, relighting the hope that had previously been a tiny flicker on a wick. The spark grew until light reappeared.

  I leant up, gazing in wonder at Mace. Twice now he'd created the spark I'd been struggling with for so long. My eyes roamed his face, absorbing the laughter lines around his mouth. I was sure they hadn't been used enough recently. I settled my gaze on his eyes. He peered at me in earnest, as if urging me to have faith and belief in myself. I smiled, my skin tight from my dried tears. "Thank you."

  His eyes warmed, his taut body relaxing around mine. "Anytime, baby."

  I relaxed back on his chest and enjoyed the slowing beat of his heart. Mace was the king of the poker face when it suited him, but his once fast heart rate that had now slowed to a normal pace was enough for me to know that he was affected by what we'd shared.

  Content, I pressed a kiss against his chest. My lips twitched when his muscles bunched. I made to do it again but was interrupted by a loud banging on the front door. A moment later, I heard a key fumbling in the lock. I froze, my bre
aths coming heavy.

  Immediately, Mace sprang into action, but instead of diving for clothes or the door, ready to attack, he shifted me around and cupped my face in his large palms.

  "Breathe, Lena. Count and breathe." My eyes glued to his, I did as instructed, remembering to count, remembering to hold, and finally exhaling. Fuzziness had threatened my vision, but already it was clearing. Mace had my full focus.

  The door opening and closing made me jump. The only thing stopping me from darting out of bed and finding someplace to hide was Mace's apologetic face. It piqued my interest enough to stop me from hyperventilating.

  "I need to apologise. She has a habit of doing this." He reached out and grabbed his T-shirt from the side of the bed. "Here, put this on." Footsteps made their way through to what I thought was the kitchen.

  "Mace. Holy crap, I need to pee. Mace!" a woman hollered, seemingly distressed and in need of the bathroom.

  Mace groaned and planted a kiss on my lips. "You stay here and then I'll come back and explain everything, okay?" I nodded. "It's Jo, my sister-in-law. She has a habit of stopping by unannounced and bringing me meals to put in my freezer."

  I grinned at that.

  "It's not bloody funny. She's not even that great a cook." He jumped off the bed, grabbed a pair of shorts and stepped into them before he threw me a smile He then headed out of the room, closing the door behind him.

  After a few moments, I heard running feet, a door slam, followed by the flushing of the toilet a short while later. I relaxed a little. I'd discovered Jo was Mace's younger brother's wife. I'd never met Liam, but I'd already heard stories of what Mace and Liam had got up to in their youth. I'd heard stories about Jo too. Knowing she was family to Mace calmed my racing pulse. While she was a stranger to me, Mace loved Liam and his family. It made the thought of meeting her easier to swallow.