First Love Second Chance

by Kira Blakely

  It’s good but it’s not enough.

  “More,” I demand hoarsely.

  “Are you sure?” he asks, tugging a pert nipple between his teeth.

  I gasp. “Yes.”

  Nathan pulls down my underwear, leaving me completely naked. Again, he stares and, for the first time, I become aware of the fact that maybe I should have shaved, something I’ve never done.

  He doesn’t seem to mind, though, burying his head between my legs as he utters a single word.

  “Mine.”

  The next thing I know, his mouth is there, his tongue delivering caresses that make me tremble before it slips in.

  Shit.

  I throw my head back, burying my fingers in his soft brown hair.

  His tongue slips in and out, exploring, stroking, tasting more and more of me. His fingers join in as well, rubbing my engorged clit.

  Together, they deliver a well-orchestrated assault, driving me to the edge of madness and ecstasy. I grip the strands in my hand tighter, pulling, wanting more, wanting release.

  When it comes, my whole body shatters into pieces, my mind blown away.

  I lie still, breathless and eyes sealed shut.

  When I open them again, Nathan is standing over me, peeling his clothes off.

  Just like that, the haze fades. I sit up, staring at him.

  It’s my turn to savor him.

  And I do, my gaze burning into every inch of skin revealed.

  His broad shoulders.

  His sculpted chest.

  The dips and curves of his chiseled stomach.

  And the eight inches curving up from between his legs.

  The thickest, longest and hardest erection I have ever seen.

  Shit.

  My eyes grow wide.

  If only I had a camera right now to capture that perfect body, though something tells me I don’t need a camera to remember it.

  It’s embedded in my memory.

  Magnificent.

  At the same time, though, I feel a pang of worry.

  Can my body take it?

  Nathan touches my cheek. “Shh. It will be fine. You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”

  I want to tell him that I’ve never had anyone this big before. Not even close. There have only been a few, after all.

  But I just nod. “Yes.”

  “Just open up to me. You want me, don’t you, Sam?”

  In answer, I reach out to him, placing one hand behind his neck and wrapping the fingers of the other around his cock.

  It quivers, sending a ripple through me.

  “Sam, if you do that—”

  He doesn’t finish. He doesn’t have to. I know what he’s trying to say.

  Reluctantly, I let my captive go, gripping his shoulders as he kisses me.

  While his mouth keeps mine busy, his finger slips inside me.

  I squeeze it, wanting it deeper.

  He pushes in.

  I gasp.

  He pulls away, grinning. “Now, I’ve got you wrapped around my finger.”

  I can’t bring myself to laugh at the pun, my mind turning to mush along with my body.

  He slips another finger in, and I lose all control.

  I fist the sheets, writhing in delight as his fingers — those wicked fingers — plunge in and out of my core, making me wetter.

  Hotter.

  “Nathan.” His name escapes my lips as a hoarse whisper.

  Like a command, it spurs him into action. His fingers leave me, reaching for the rubber on the nightstand and hastily rolling it on before biting into my thighs.

  He lifts them, the tip of his cock nudging the hole he has prepared.

  “Let me in, Sam.”

  And he pushes in slowly.

  I gasp. I cry. I cling to him.

  He begins to move. Even through the rubber barrier, I can feel his heat and his thrusts.

  My heart races.

  The pleasure climbs.

  “Shit.”

  The curse is the only word I can manage, my mind growing blank as he moves faster.

  Deeper.

  Harder.

  I come, my lips parting to let out a silent scream, my nails and heels digging into his back as my body arches beneath his and trembles around him, shattering into even smaller fragments than before.

  Vaguely, I feel him still moving but suddenly, he stops, burying himself deep inside me as he lets out a groan.

  And just like that, the pieces of me that are being put back together scatter again, his orgasm causing me to have one more, like an earthquake causing another.

  After, I lie still, gasping for air, waiting for my body to feel again, for my mind to start thinking again.

  By then, Nathan already has his pants on. He has his back turned to me, and I frown as I see the scars from my nails on either side of his tattoo.

  I summon enough energy to get out of bed so I can kiss them.

  “Sorry,” I murmur.

  “The squirrel has claws,” he says.

  I run my fingers over the black ink. “What’s this?”

  “Just a souvenir from my time in the Army.”

  I blink. “You were in the Army?”

  “Just for a year. My dad was in the Army, and I wanted to experience it for myself. But it’s not for me.”

  “Where is he now?” I ask bravely.

  Blame the courage on the afterglow.

  “He died when I was still a teenager,” Nathan answers. “My mom’s gone now, too. She died before she could see me become successful.”

  “I’m sorry to hear it.”

  I suddenly remember my own parents. Will we ever be okay again?

  “What’s wrong?” he asks, turning around.

  “Nothing,” I lie. “Just tired.”

  “Go to sleep.” The words sound more like an order than a request. “I still have some things to do.”

  I want to ask him what, but I yawn instead.

  Being tired isn’t a lie, after all. All the exhaustion from the arguing, crying and the sex are sinking in, and I suddenly feel exhausted.

  I crawl back into bed, pulling the blanket up to my shoulders. “Good night.”

  “Night.”

  Chapter 8

  Curiosity and the Cat

  In the morning, Nathan is gone.

  No note on the pillow.

  No note on the nightstand.

  No breakfast in the kitchen.

  Nothing.

  And absolutely no sign of him.

  It’s almost as if last night never happened, except that the soreness between my legs is proof it did.

  Have I just been discarded?

  I can just imagine Pam saying ‘I told you so’ and I frown. Surely, it can’t be true.

  Or maybe it was true before with other women but not in my case.

  Are you sure?

  There’s that annoying voice again. It didn’t get the chance to speak up last night so now it’s rearing its head and giving me a lecture.

  And it’s even worse than Mom’s lecture.

  Because try as I might, I can’t seem to ignore it.

  Are you sure he hasn’t discarded you?

  I look around the apartment. It’s even more spacious than the hotel suite we went to before, the bedroom in a loft.

  A luxurious apartment.

  And right now, it’s empty.

  Empty.

  The perfect opportunity to investigate.

  My conscience resists, but my curiosity wins out.

  So what if Nathan finds out I’ve been snooping? I deserve to know the truth. Besides, it’s his fault he left me alone.

  If I’m careful, maybe, just maybe, he won’t even find out.

  After putting my clothes back on, I start with the bedroom, pulling out the drawer on the nightstand.

  Just a pile of condoms. Different brands. Different colors. All XL.

  Suspicious. Why does he keep so many condoms?

  The other drawers in the
bedroom are locked so I check the closet, finding a box at the bottom.

  Bingo.

  There are only magazines in it, though — his stash of porn magazines.

  Surprising.

  On second thought, not really.

  He’s a grown man, after all.

  True, some of the pictures in the magazines are far too obscene for my liking, but hey, what do you expect? It’s a porn magazine.

  At least, none of the pages seem sticky.

  In fact, they seem new, as if they’ve never been read at all.

  Still, why keep them?

  I put the magazines back in the box, the box back in the closet and move on.

  Nothing in the bathroom. Nothing in the kitchen. Nothing in the living room.

  All that’s left is the office.

  I hesitate. After all, there could be important documents in there. Sensitive documents. And cash.

  But it’s not like I’m going to steal, after all. In fact, I promise to behave and not read any of the documents.

  Taking a deep breath, I enter. The room is large but there isn’t much inside it — just a lot of shelves, a filing cabinet and a massive but sleek, black desk in the middle.

  I check the drawers of those first.

  Locked.

  The next one is locked, too.

  In fact, most of the drawers are locked. I’m about to give up when I feel an envelope hidden behind a row of books on the shelf.

  I open it with slightly shaking fingers, my throat going dry as I see the notebook inside — a notebook with pages filled with women’s names, pictures and numbers.

  There are no other women in my contacts.

  Maybe not in his contacts but there are certainly plenty of them here.

  Liar.

  It’s enough to make me regret sleeping with Nathan, but then I see the pictures and I start to loathe myself.

  They’re pictures of Nathan with various women.

  Stolen shots.

  Barry’s shots?

  But he seemed like he didn’t know Barry. And Barry said he had nothing to gain from showing his pictures to Nathan.

  Unless they were both lying.

  Nathan had already lied once.

  At any rate, it doesn’t matter who took the pictures. The pictures are clearly of Nathan and other women.

  And he is keeping them in an envelope hidden in his bookshelf.

  Shit.

  So, this is what ‘curiosity killed the cat’ means.

  Now that I know, I wish I didn’t, the pain in my chest making it hard for me to breathe.

  Hastily, I put the pictures and the envelope back in place then I hurry out of the apartment, wishing I had never set foot there.

  Pam was right, after all.

  ***

  “I told you so,” Pam says over coffee when we meet at a café a short while later.

  The words sting, but I deserve them. I should have listened to her.

  I should have been smarter, but no. I fell for Nathan Landers’ tricks.

  It’s a good thing I didn’t fall for him yet.

  You slept with him, though.

  “Shut up.”

  “What?” Pam gives me a puzzled look.

  “Nothing.” I pick up my cup. “I’m just talking to myself. Scolding myself mostly. So, really, you don’t have to be so hard on me.”

  Pam shrugs. “All I said was ‘I told you so.’”

  “Twice.” I take a sip.

  “Want me to say it a third time?”

  I frown. “You would have been tricked, too, if someone gave you a dog shelter.”

  Pam’s eyes grow wide. “He gave you a dog shelter?”

  I nod. “Sort of.”

  “Nah. Dog shelters aren’t my thing. If he got me exclusive interviews with certain people, though…”

  “See. You have an Achilles’ heel. Everyone has. He used mine. If he used yours, you would have been fooled, too.”

  “Or maybe I would have just used him.”

  “Now, why didn’t that occur to me?” I set down my cup. “Oh, right. Because I’m not cold like you. Hasn’t it ever occurred to you that that might be the reason why you’re still single?”

  She falls silent, the silence making me feel guilty.

  “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.” I sigh. “I really was such a fool, wasn’t I?”

  “Yes. Yes, you were.”

  I should have scurried away when I had the chance.

  “I’m pathetic. I have no romance. I have no family—”

  “Whoa. What do you mean you have no family?” Pam’s eyebrows crease. “Did something happen to your parents that you didn’t tell me about?”

  Right. I haven’t told her about the argument.

  I tell her now.

  At the end, she shakes her head and gives a disapproving click of her tongue. “Now, that’s a bigger problem.”

  “I know,” I say. “But I don’t think I was wrong. Was I?”

  Pam shrugs. “You had a reason to be upset. But were you right to say those things to your father? I don’t know.”

  “He was going to sell the truck without telling me.”

  “That was wrong. But selling the truck? I’m not sure. It’s true that no one’s using it, after all.”

  “You don’t have to use something for it to be important.” I stick out my lower lip as I lean back on my chair with shoulders slumped. “It could just stand for something. Like flags, for example. If you think about it, they’re just useless pieces of cloth, but they stand for something, don’t they?”

  “Hey. I’m not the enemy here, okay?” She picks up her cup. “I’m just trying to help you understand your father, which is what you want to do, right?”

  Right. “Sorry.”

  “I guess what I’m trying to say is your father’s just being practical. Selling Jack’s truck doesn’t mean he’s going to forget all about Jack. In spite of all their differences, they’re father and son. Besides, memories live on in hearts, not in objects.”

  I hate to admit it, but Pam has a point.

  “Has it ever occurred to you that maybe the truck has just been reminding your father of Jack and of his own failures as a father? Maybe the reason he wants to sell it is because he finally wants to be free of the pain?”

  Nope. That hasn’t occurred to me, either.

  “Whatever his reasons may be, I don’t think Jack’s truck should get between you and your parents. Jack wouldn’t like that, would he?”

  I look at Pam. “Sometimes, I hate you. Do you know that?”

  “Because I see things you don’t? Hey, an investigative reporter has got to see issues from different perspectives.”

  “And you happen to be one of the best, don’t you?”

  She grins. “You’re welcome. Now, go make amends with your parents. I’m sure they don’t want to be estranged from you, either.”

  I frown. “Why do I get the feeling you’re going to tell me ‘I told you so’ again sometime soon?”

  Pam pats me on the shoulder. “Just think of it as my way of saying ‘all’s well that ends well.’”

  ***

  All’s well that ends well, huh?

  I wonder about that as I walk back to my apartment.

  Well, frankly, I’m not sure how this is going to end well. I still feel hurt that Jack’s truck got sold, after all.

  And I’m sure my dad’s hurt, too, that I said all those things to him. I even disowned him. Well, technically, I disowned myself. But I was still the one who cut the ties.

  How can I put it back the way it was? What if he doesn’t want to talk to me ever again?

  The moment I return to my apartment, though, my worries vanish.

  My mother’s waiting for me outside the door.

  “Mom?”

  She gives me a sheepish grin. “I’m sorry I showed up without telling you. I actually came to your apartment last night but you weren’t here, so I returned early this morning. I hope you do
n’t mind.”

  “It’s okay,” I say as I open the door.

  I don’t mind. I’m just confused.

  “But why? What are you doing here, Mom? And where’s Dad?”

  “Your father went back to Rumney already this morning. He has some animals to take care of, after all,” she explains as she enters my apartment. “But believe me, dear, he isn’t mad at you. On the contrary, I think he wants you to forgive him.”

  I say nothing, picking up Siberia as she comes up to me.

  “You will forgive him, won’t you? After all, no harm’s been done.”

  I give her a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”

  “Well…” She sits down, her hands clasped on her knee. “After your heartfelt speech, George decided not to buy the truck and your father took down the ad. He decided not to sell it.”

  “He did?” I sit down beside her.

  “Your father loved Jack, too, you know. And he loves you.” She places a hand on my shoulder. “Very much.”

  “I know.”

  “So, you’ll forgive him?” she asks hopefully.

  I nod. “He’s my father. In fact, I’ve been thinking that if he wants to sell Jack’s truck, he can.”

  Mom looks surprised. “You sure?”

  I nod. “Jack wouldn’t want Dad to have a hard time. If he needs the money, then—”

  “Actually, speaking of the money, a man called your dad this morning. He was asking if he wanted a loan.”

  “A loan?”

  “It’s strange because we didn’t apply for a loan, although we were thinking of it.”

  Strange indeed. I already know what happened.

  Or more precisely, who’s behind it.

  There’s only one man with enough money and with ties to banks who might want to help me. Nathan.

  “Your father suggested it might have been someone you’re dating.” She pets Siberia as the cat scoots over to her. “He said otherwise, why would a stranger want to help us or even know of our problems? Is that so?”

  I shake my head. “I’m not dating anyone.”

  Even if it was Nathan, it doesn’t matter. I’m not falling for his tricks anymore, regardless of how elaborate they are.

  Mom sighs. “Well, that’s a relief.”

  “A relief?” I’m confused. I thought my mom was secretly wishing for me to get married.