by Jacob Chance
She looks down at the screen. “It’s something you do for somebody in order to help them or to cheer them up. But I’m still not sure that should count. It’s like saying you can use TIA—thanks in advance. I bet there’s a definition for that too.”
“If you’re gonna whine about it, I’ll remove it from my list. I’m still up by five points.” I shrug. “I’m not going to give you a reason to complain when I win.”
She narrows her gaze and I see her teeth clenching. “You can set up the letters this time and I’ll flip the timer. Wouldn’t want you to whine that you didn’t get fair treatment.”
I put the cover on and shake the pieces around until the letters mix. Once they’re all in place, I glance at Piper. “Ready?” At her nod, I remove the cover and she flips over the plastic hourglass timer.
This game is much better for me. The letter selection is easier to form words with. My list grows rapidly as my pen moves down the paper.
“Time,” Piper says, and I look up. “You can go first this time.”
I read off my long list of words and she curses. “How did you get that?” I point out how the letters all connect making it a valid score. She groans with frustration. “You got me again.”
“I guess that makes me the winner if we’re doing best of three.”
She glances at the timer. “We have time for a few more.”
“Sure. Why not?” I agree confidently.
Piper wins the next two rounds, and I manage to squeak out a narrow victory with a two-point win in the final game.
“Noooo,” she shouts, pounding her fist on the countertop. “I hate you.” She drops her head onto her arms.
“No, you don’t. You hate when I beat you. You’re just a sore loser.” I poke my finger into her side, making her jump. Raising her head, her annoyed dark orbs lock on to my amused ones. Taking her stubborn chin between my thumb and index finger, I lean toward her and say, “Don’t hate the player, babe, hate the game.”
Chapter Twenty
Piper
I want to punch the cocky expression right off his face, but his warm fingers are making me tingle in places I shouldn’t be. Grabbing the back of his head, I slam my mouth to his. He instantly reacts, parting his lips. Our tongues reacquaint in a reunion that is long overdue. I should’ve known this moment was inevitable.
The tension between us could only be stretched or strained for so long before it was bound to snap. And now that it has, I’m drowning in an endless sea of desire.
Donovan drags me from my stool and across his lap while our mouths remain connected. One of his thick forearms is like a band of steel around my back, supporting me. His other hand caresses up and down the outside of my thigh, venturing back to cup and squeeze my ass.
I clutch his shoulders and rake my nails along his upper back. His hot, wet mouth sensually slides to my neck and he emits a low growl that’s so sexy, I feel it pulse between my legs.
I need his hand on me now, slipping inside my sweatpants to touch me. I’m so on edge that, with just a few swirls of his fingertips he can ease this painful ache. Lips parting, I’m about to beg for his touch when the timer goes off.
Our mouths tear apart at the shrill, ear-splitting sound. Chests heaving and lips swollen, we stare at one another in shock. I don’t think either of us expected things to escalate so fast. Neither of us was ready to stop any time soon. How do you willingly end something that felt so right?
Kissing Donovan again was like finding a part of me I’d forgotten existed. And now that I have it back, I can’t let it go.
I force myself to slip from his lap and stand. “I better get the pie.”
He nods but remains silent, looking as stunned as I am. I shove an oven mitt on each of my hands and remove the pie from the oven. It’s golden brown and baked to perfection. Earlier, my taste buds were salivating at the thought of eating this, and now I don’t care. How can anything measure up to the kisses we shared?
“Donovan, you added my number to the pie. That’s so sweet.” I’m not the most sentimental girl, but I tug my phone from my pocket and snap a picture of our pie.
“You won your game tonight. I figured we should celebrate.” He downplays the gesture.
Jeez, a kiss and a pie. What did I do to deserve all this?
I keep busy by grabbing plates and flatware and placing them on the counter. I should probably hold off until the pie cools before serving it, but I don’t want to wait. Since the alarm interrupted us, there’s enough tension in this room to cut with a knife and neither of us seems ready to address it.
I place the steaming slices of pie on two plates.
“There’s vanilla ice cream in the freezer,” Donovan mentions. “I brought it last night.”
“You thought of everything,” I say. I’m impressed at how this more manly version of him is so different than the boyish one I used to know.
He’s not afraid to put himself out there emotionally. He’s been open about regretting letting me go. He’s more thoughtful too. Last night, he brought dinner and the pie supplies, and tonight, he showed up unexpectedly at my game to cheer me on. The papers he taped to his sweatshirt so he could wear my number were ingenious and so damn sweet. And carving my number into the pie crust? What guy does stuff like this?
It’s a struggle to merge the past and present versions of him in my head. But it’s easier to do so in my heart because he’s always resided there—even when I didn’t want him to. I was never able to eject him, no matter how hard I tried.
I place a metal scoop and the container of ice cream in front of Donovan. “You get to put your muscles to work dishing this out.” I push the two plates with the pie slices and spoons over to him.
He pushes the sleeves on his sweatshirt up his veiny forearms and I can’t look away.
“See something you like?” he asks, picking up the scoop.
“Yeah, pie and ice cream.” I smack my lips together and pretend he didn’t just bust me checking him out.
“Sure.” He smirks, adding ice cream on top of the pie. I want to kiss the smug expression from his face and never come up for air.
Instead, I snatch a plate from the counter in front of Donovan and take a bite of our pie. “Mmm.” My eyes fall closed as I chew and reopen when I swallow. I grin at Donovan. “We made a kick-ass pie.”
He shoves a giant spoonful between his lips. He’s barely chewed before he’s taking another bite. “This is amazing.” He scoops more onto his spoon, holding it in front of my mouth. Parting my lips, I take the offered bite while he watches. His blue orbs appear darker than usual. As soon as I swallow down the dessert, his lips are on mine.
He tastes like pie and ice cream, and somehow, that combination is incredibly sexy on his tongue. He dips a fingertip in the vanilla puddle on his plate before dragging it across the seam of my mouth. Parting my lips, I draw his finger between them, sucking the ice cream from his skin. He releases a gravelly groan that makes me slick between my thighs. I want him more than I can comprehend. I’m aching, and only he can ease the pain.
Leaning forward, I capture his mouth with mine. His thick arms fold around me, making me feel safe and cherished. In his embrace is my new favorite place to be.
Our tongues stroke and swirl, fanning the glowing embers of passion into full-blown flames. He scoops me from the stool and my legs wrap around his hips. He carries me to my bedroom and I hear the door slam shut. Our lips stay joined as he lays me on my back, settling between my thighs. He grinds his hard cock into my softness, and I hum my pleasure into his mouth. My heels tightening on his ass, I urge him into me again. Taking the cue, he repeatedly rocks against my clit, but it’s not enough.
“Touch me, please,” I whisper against his lips.
“Fuck yes.” He slips his hand inside my sweatpants. His fingertips skate back and forth across the top of my panties, teasing me before his hand slowly glides downward. He cups my pussy in his large palm. “Jesus. You’re so fucking hot and wet a
nd soft.” He slowly circles my entrance with the tip of his finger before thrusting the digit inside me.
“Yes,” I say, raising my hips for more. He pulls his hand free, raising his finger to his mouth and sucking my juices from it.
“Fuck, you taste amazing.” Moving to his knees, he peels my sweatpants and panties off in one fell swoop. Grabbing my ankles, he tugs me down the bed until my ass is against his knees. Gripping my hips, he raises my lower body until his mouth settles over my pussy. My legs fall over his shoulders and his tongue licks me from my entrance to my clit and back again. I see stars, and I’m not sure if it’s from the unimaginable pleasure or this position that has me practically standing on my head.
One of his arms winds around my waist and the other comes around my chest, his hand cupping my breast under my shirt.
“More,” I plead. Plucking the bundle of nerves between his lips, he repeatedly flicks his tongue over it. “Yes,” I encourage him. Growling, he devours my pussy. Sucking, licking, and teasing me with his teeth until no area has been left untouched.
I’m so on edge that when he returns to my clit, sucking on the engorged flesh and sweeping it with his tongue, my release slams into me. His arms holding me tight, his mouth remains locked on me as I gasp and tremble through my orgasm.
Donovan lowers me to my back and swipes his forearm across his mouth. Lying down beside me, he draws me into his arms. “You’re amazing.”
“Says the man who just gave me the best orgasm of my life. I think that makes you amazing, not me.” I walk my fingers down his stomach. “What about you?”
He catches hold of my hand, stopping its downward journey. “Tonight is all about you.”
“But I want to make you feel good too.”
“You already did.”
“Donovan, I know what you’re doing, but it’s not necessary.” He doesn’t want me to think he’s only after sex—and I don’t.
He presses a soft kiss to my lips. “I said tonight is about you and I mean that. Besides, if you come anywhere near my dick, I’m going to embarrass myself.”
“Will you stay over and sleep in my bed with me?” I want to spend the night in his arms.
“Yes, as long as it’s not some ploy to get your hands on my dick.” He winks.
“What about my mouth?” I wink back at him.
He groans. “Maybe I should leave.”
I rest my chin on his chest, peering up at him. “I promise to behave, but I don’t have to like doing it.”
I wake up to an empty bed, but there's a takeout cup of coffee on my nightstand and a white bag with a muffin inside. I smile, knowing Donovan took the time to make sure I had breakfast. He also wrote me a note.
Piper,
You looked so peaceful, I couldn’t disturb you. I have to hit the gym early because you and I have plans later. I’ll pick you up at two. Make sure you wear jeans and boots.
I hope you enjoy your breakfast. - D.
I hug the note to my chest and squeal. He’s taking me out later. I can’t wait to see him.
Sitting up on the edge of the bed, I take a sip of coffee and almost spit it out. It’s barely even warm. Standing, I grab my breakfast and my phone and bring them to the kitchen. After a good zap in the microwave my coffee is once again hot. Planting my ass on a stool, I break off a piece of muffin and shove it in my mouth. I need to send a message to Donovan.
Me: Thank you for spending the night with me. I had a great time. It sucked to wake up without you, but the coffee and muffin helped. I’ll be ready at two. Can’t wait to see what we’re doing. Do you have a motorcycle I don’t know about?
Donovan: Good morning, beautiful. And no, I don’t have a motorcycle.
Smiling, I set my phone down on the counter.
“What are you so happy about this morning?” Rachel questions in a hoarse voice.
“You sound like you had fun last night.”
She clears her throat. “I did. We ended up at some club with a live band. You never answered me about why you were all smiles when I walked in.”
“I was texting Donovan.”
“How did it go last night?” She pours herself a glass of juice.
“Great. He came over and we made an apple pie together. He carved my number in the crust.” I beam all over again.
“Oh my God. Who knew Donovan Archer was so romantic?” She leans back against the counter across the room.
“Right? I don’t remember him being like this. He was sweet before, but I can’t say he went out of his way to do anything special for me.”
“He obviously realizes what a giant fuck up he was for letting you go.” She takes a sip of juice and sets her glass down on the granite.
My fingers nervously pluck at the hem of my t-shirt. “Do you think I’m crazy for giving him another chance?”
“No. Why? Do you?”
“There’s a part of me that wants me to be more cautious.”
Rachel shakes her head. “I don’t think you’re rushing things. You’ve been in love with him for two and a half years.”
“But we weren’t together,” I remind her.
“It’s not like you’re starting from scratch with someone you don’t know. There are already loving feelings involved. And he’s so different now than he’s ever been. I’ve been at school with him the whole time and I’ve never seen him put any effort into spending time with a girl before.”
What she’s saying makes me happy. I want to think I’m special to him. He’s important to me.
“My mom is going to have a fit when she finds out we’re spending time together. She thinks I should hate him forever.”
Rachel snorts. “And what do you think?”
“I think hating him only hurts me. And let’s face it, I sucked at hating him. I may have talked a good game, but when it came right down to it, I wanted to forgive him.”
“Forgiving him will help you heal. Have you told him about the baby yet?” Rachel asks the question I’ve been dreading most.
“No, and I don’t know how to. He’s going to be angry that he didn’t know.”
“Fuck that. You miscarried before you had a chance to tell him.” Rachel is always the first to defend my actions.
“I know it was fast, but he’s not going to see it the same as we do. Things are going so well with us right now. Maybe I should wait until our foundation is a little more solid?”
Rachel aims a pointed glance at me. “The sooner you tell him, the better.”
“You’re right. Fuck. I’ll do it this weekend. Maybe tomorrow. He’s taking me out today and I don’t want to ruin his plans.”
“You’ll probably feel a huge sense of relief once he knows.”
“Or a huge sense of regret,” I shoot back.
“Either way, your conscience will be clear, and you’re a clear conscience kind of girl.”
She knows me so well. I don’t like having secrets between Donovan and me. I never wanted to hide anything from him, but once I lost the baby it didn’t seem like anything mattered. Especially getting in touch with him to share the devastating news. If I could do it all over again, I’d do things differently. I hope when I share everything with him, it will be enough to make him understand.
Chapter Twenty-One
Piper
“We’re here,” he announces, pulling into the Green Meadows Stables.
“We’re going horseback riding?” I ask, my excitement evident.
“Yes, we are. Have you ever ridden a horse before?”
“No. I’ve never made a bucket list, but riding a horse has been something I’ve always dreamed of doing.”
“Get ready, because you’re about to.” Stepping from the truck, I hear him take a deep breath of the fresh country air.
It smells different than being in the city does. Not that the scents from the city don’t hold their own appeal, but the earthy smell surrounding us is undeniable.
He assists me from the passenger side and I glance around
at the beautiful scenery. “Gosh, it’s so beautiful here.” It’s nice to be away from the city for a bit. It’s so quiet. I can actually hear myself thinking. “Have you ridden before?” I ask.
“Yeah, I have a few times while on vacation with my family.”
“Is it difficult to do?” Worry is starting to set in. What if I’m thrown off and get hurt? Then I won’t be able to play hockey.
Donovan cups my cheek, gaining my attention. “There’s nothing for you to be concerned about. We’re here to have fun, and that’s what we’re going to do. You’re safe with me.”
“I’m not worried about you throwing me off your back,” I joke.
“No one is getting thrown anywhere. This stable has great reviews and most of them mention how docile their horses are. Does that make you feel better?”
“Maybe a little.”
He takes my hand, our fingers lacing together. “Come on.”
We check in, letting them know we’ve arrived. We’re given a quick lesson on what we should and shouldn’t do while on the horses. The stable employee mentions how the horses know the trails so well, that they don’t need much direction. That works for me since I don’t have any directions to give them.
One of the stable hands hands us helmets and we put them on. With me being a newbie to this whole experience, I need help getting on the horse. Another stable hand moves over to assist me, but Donovan steps in front of him, saying “I’ve got her.” The stable hand moves to the other side, holding the horse still while talking me through the steps.
Grabbing the end of the reins with my left hand as instructed, I then also hold on to the saddle horn for more support. My right hand grips the back of the saddle as I place my left foot in the stirrup. Pushing off with my right foot, I step up with my left leg. Donovan’s hands cup my ass cheeks, giving me an extra boost upward. I swing my right leg over the horse’s rump and gently settle my weight on the saddle.
What a weird sensation sitting this high in the air is, but I’m so happy that a giggle jumps from my lips. “Voila. I did it.”