Love's Last Chance

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Love's Last Chance Page 17

by Jean C. Joachim


  He put his hand on Dorrie’s lower back and escorted her inside.

  “I forget that people park other people’s cars out here.”

  “You’re such a New Yorker.”

  “Damn straight.”

  The maître d’ showed them to a quiet table in the back. The restaurant had cream-colored walls. Sheer, floor-to-ceiling drapes were held gracefully by satin, corded tie-backs. Molding on the ceiling was painted a dark rose color. Tablecloths were pink with cream-and-pink, flower print, cloth napkins. There was an air of old-fashioned elegance about the place. In fact, if she didn’t know for sure she was in L.A., she’d think she was in New York.

  “I’ve never been here before.”

  “Kind of like home.”

  “Yeah. Very Manhattan.” She smiled.

  “So, I’m a little homesick. Don’t laugh.” But she couldn’t suppress a giggle. “Nice,” he muttered.

  The continental menu was extensive. Johnny reached over and covered her hand with his as they discussed what to eat. When the waiter arrived, Johnny selected a bottle of Riesling. The wine came before they placed their orders.

  “I’ll have the organic salad with shrimp,” Dorrie said.

  “Porterhouse steak, medium.”

  The waiter filled their wine glasses and left.

  Johnny squeezed Dorrie’s hand. “When can you move in?”

  “Move in?”

  “My house. It’s big, plenty of room. I have a surprise for you, too.”

  “Live with you, hmm. Hadn’t considered that.”

  “I don’t know what more I can do to convince you how I feel. I’m an action man, not too good with words.”

  She looked at his handsome face and dark hair curling around his forehead. She’d never seen him in a suit and tie. The navy blue suit, white shirt, and Kelly green-striped tie made him appear a bit older, more mature. He was irresistible. Like I could ever resist him, even in cutoffs or a bathing suit. Especially in a bathing suit. She smiled.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing. You look great all dressed up.”

  “I’m a businessman. I dress the part. So, you’re moving in, aren’t you?”

  “Can I think about it for five minutes?”

  He checked his watch. “Five minutes? Sure. Go!”

  She laughed.

  “This was your idea, Dorrie, to talk in two weeks. You wanted to know how I felt. Whether or not you should come back to New York. I said stay here and advance your career, and you’re doing just that. I came to join you. What more can I do?”

  “You’re right. This is fabulous. I need time to get used to it.”

  He lowered his voice. “Take all the time you want, in my house, in my bed.”

  The waiter appeared with their food and poured more wine. Each dish was presented beautifully. Dorrie’s mouth watered. The salad had each ingredient laid out neatly on a bed of mixed greens.

  “The salad is to your liking, miss?” The server asked. After she nodded, he mixed it all together and added the dressing before giving a small bow and leaving.

  “Still eating salad?” John cut off a piece of steak.

  “Old habits die hard.”

  “It looks pretty good…for salad,” he said, eying her plate.

  “That’s a huge steak.”

  “Here,” he said, slicing off a piece and offering it to her. She closed her lips around the succulent meat and pulled it off the fork. Their eyes met. He dropped a kiss on her nose while she chewed. They ate in silence for a while. Dorrie buttered a piece of crusty French bread and sat back. “Okay. Take me to your house.”

  Johnny smiled. “Great! I don’t have to order dessert.” He leaned over to brush her lips with his. Her pulse kicked up at the touch of his lips. You’re the one. The one I wanted all along. I didn’t know it then, but I know it now. She touched his cheek, and he pulled away, his eyes glittering with love and lust.

  “What took you so long?” she whispered.

  He laughed. “You make me play a guessing game. I never know what you want.”

  “I want you.”

  He put down his utensils and beamed at her. “That’s all I need to know.”

  When they finished dinner, the busboy cleared away their plates. The man serving them asked about dessert and coffee. Dorrie shook her head, a touch embarrassed. Bet it’s a king-size bed. John looked at her, and a knowing smile crossed his face. The waiter blushed and left them quickly. The lovers held hands while they waited for the check. The heat of his stare burned through the thin fabric of her dress, warming her blood.

  After he paid the bill, John guided her back to his car with a slight pressure from his hand on her lower back. Even such a gentle touch stoked the fire for him that smoldered within. He drove the silent vehicle expertly, pulling into the driveway of a three-story, Victorian house. Dorrie gasped, and her mouth hung open when she saw the gingerbread work, the tall windows, and a big front porch.

  “Like it?”

  “Where did you find a Victorian in the land of Spanish architecture?”

  “It wasn’t easy. I had three real estate agents chasing their tails for weeks, looking for this house.”

  She turned to him. “You did that for me? You know Victorian is my favorite style.” She took his face in her hands and planted a big kiss on his lips.

  “I told you. My coming out here is all about you. I let you get away once by being a jerk. I decided I’d never let that happen again.”

  Goosebumps popped out on Dorrie’s arm as Johnny took her hand and led her up the steps. “Our house,” he murmured.

  She turned her head sharply at his words. Am I dreaming? To live in this house with Johnny. A dream come true. Is marriage too much to hope for?

  He took her on a tour of the charming house with Victorian details in every room.

  “This isn’t really an old house. It’s a new Victorian…if you can say that,” he chuckled.

  “Yeah, they don’t have two-hundred-year-old houses out here. But they also don’t have snow. Works for me.”

  “I could get used to that,” he said as they entered the kitchen.

  Dorrie marveled at how spacious it was. After several years of being crammed into an apartment, having a big kitchen to share with only John was thrilling. She ran her hand along the dark granite countertop, then the oyster white cabinets, too. A soft, light gray on the walls reflected the shiny chrome fixtures, the stainless steel sink, and the copper pots and pans hanging from black metal hooks. She opened the cabinets, which were sparsely filled with a few white ironstone dishes.

  “I’m only renting this. But it’s possible I could buy it…if you like it.”

  “Like it? I love it!” She was in his embrace in a second.

  “It’s not a beach house like ole Dracula had for you…”

  “It’s wonderful, Johnny. You don’t have to compete with Gunther. I’m yours, hook, line, and sinker.” She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. He lowered his mouth to hers and began to work his magic. Passion flowed through her veins.

  “More,” she breathed before returning her lips to his.

  He broke from her and grabbed her hand. Leading her up the stairs, he turned to the right on the second floor. The door opened onto a beautiful bedroom. The walls were a gentle lemon yellow. The huge bed was covered in a fabric with stripes of yellow, light turquoise, spring green, and white. Six fluffy pillows were laid out perfectly, inviting her to rest her head.

  Curtains of the same pattern graced long, elegant windows. An old-fashioned dresser, painted white, had an ornate mirror stretching from one side to the other. A pair of small, white nightstands flanked the bed. Each had a short, ruffled, milk glass lamp. Perfect for reading. The room sparkled. There wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere. He must have had it cleaned today. Johnny’s not a neat freak.

  “Like it?” He shot a worried glance at her.

  “It’s gorgeous. I love it!” She leapt onto the be
d, bouncing and laughing. He followed her, pulling her under him for a seductive kiss. She softened. My prince. Who knew this womanizer could change?

  “You’re full of surprises.” she said, when they broke for air.

  “I’m not done yet.”

  The importance of the house faded as Johnny continued his assault on her mouth. His hand crept up to cover her breast, and she pressed her hips against his.

  “If you do that,” he breathed.

  “What?”

  He bent his head to kiss her neck while he continued to massage her. “You feel real good,” he mumbled.

  Dorrie pulled his shirt out and slipped her fingers underneath. She skimmed her hand over his skin, pushing into his back muscles, making him groan.

  “How do I…” he asked as she flipped over. He unzipped the lavender cotton dress all the way down to her butt, allowing it to fall away from her shoulders. He unsnapped her bra and rolled her back over to face him. He slowly slid the garment down, followed by her bra, leaving her wearing only lacy pink panties. His eyes created heat as they studied her bare beauty.

  “You are gorgeous,” he said.

  Dorrie tugged at his tie. John sat up long enough to pull it free and unbutton his shirt. He shrugged it off his shoulders in a few seconds, and then his T-shirt, revealing his muscled chest, covered with brown hair.

  She drank in his image like a starving person inhales food. She’d always loved to look at his body, but was shy. She didn’t want him to think his looks were the most important thing to her. So she’d sneak a peek from time to time. Now, she stared openly, mesmerized by the masculine sexiness that poured off him. Johnny’s always been sex on wheels. Flattening her palms on his chest as he pulled her closer, she inhaled his delicious scent, mixed with a spicy aftershave.

  Dorrie reluctantly lifted her fingertips to his cheek. “Smooth.”

  “Don’t want to leave any beard burn on you, honey.”

  She raised her eyebrows, making him chuckle. He placed his hands on her chest.

  “A perfect fit,” he muttered, squeezing gently then moving in on her peaks. His mouth descended as he eased her down on the bed. “Let me taste you, baby.”

  Dorrie lost her hands in his hair and rained tiny kisses on him while he made love to her breasts. She closed her eyes as fire sped through her veins. A growing urgency between her legs made her squirm. She needed him. Inching her hand between their bellies, she pulled his belt loose and unzipped his pants.

  “Anxious, aren’t we? What’s your hurry?” He raised his head.

  “I want you.”

  “Not nearly as much as you’re going to want me in a few minutes.” He snickered.

  She reached in and wrapped her fingers around his hard shaft. “I see I’m not alone.” She laughed.

  “Surprised? You always make me hard.” Johnny slipped his hands around her waist and down her back, maneuvering his fingers under the waistband of her panties. He gripped her behind then dipped a finger between her thighs. She arched into him and closed her eyes, tightening her hold on him.

  “Hey, take it easy!” He removed her hand then went back to exploring her soft flesh.

  “You make me lose control,” she murmured.

  “Everything’s my fault.” He laughed, nipping at her neck and slipping his finger inside her.

  “Oh my God, Johnny. Please.”

  He pulled her hips flush up against him and moved slowly back and forth as he kissed her breasts, rolling her nipples. Talking stopped as the heat between them threatened to ignite the sheets. John shed his clothes while Dorrie quickly peeled her underwear down and kicked them off.

  He parted her knees and pulled her ankles around his waist. She lifted, locking them behind him. He rubbed himself up and down her warm flesh, spreading her wetness before he slipped inside her. She groaned loudly and arched her chest into his.

  “God, Dorrie,” he said, closing his eyes and moving in and out, in a steady rhythm.

  She clutched him to her, moaning into his neck. She unhooked her ankles and raised one leg higher so he could penetrate her completely. John ran his hand down then up her calf and closed his fingers around her thigh, holding her position as he increased his pace.

  Their bodies rocked, completely in sync. Dorrie closed her lips on the fleshy part of his shoulder as passion sent her temperature soaring. She bit down as gently as she could as need spiraled up and up, ripping orgasmic release through every inch of her body. Her hips undulated, moving with Johnny. He raised his head, his eyes dark pools of passion.

  “Hope I didn’t hurt you?” she said, breathing heavily.

  “Can’t feel anything above my waist, babe.” He grunted as she clenched her muscles around him.

  “Feel that?” She cocked an eyebrow.

  He laughed. “Hell yeah! Do it again.” She did it twice more, and he increased his pace, sweat breaking out on his forehead. As he thrust harder, desire began to build again in Dorrie. He pounded into her again and again, groaning her name. Suddenly the fire inside her became unbearable.

  Tension built, coiling up like a tightly wound spring. John lowered his lips to her peak, sending her over the top. She called out his name as pleasure shot through her body all the way to her toes.

  Taken over by her orgasm, she didn’t hear him chuckle for a moment or two. She slid her hands over his butt and squeezed. He looked into her eyes just before she pulled his mouth to hers. She wanted him in every way. Her lips and tongue ravaged his. His hand closed around her waist, holding her still as he uttered a loud groan and stopped. He lowered himself down on her, supporting some, but not all his weight.

  She closed her arms around him, stroking his back. His warm breath tickled her neck as his fingers stroked the side of her breast. “I love you, Dorrie,” he whispered.

  Truth poured from her, uncensored. “I love you, too. Say you’ll never leave me. I couldn’t bear it.” She cringed when she realized what she’d revealed. Ever since Gunther had deserted her, she had been terrified of that happening again. Her fear of abandonment kept her from forming any close relationships, always keeping each new man at arm’s length. Then she saw Johnny again, and she was a goner.

  “Never. Never, sweetheart.” Her eyes watered and emotion closed her throat. She tried to hold back, but her body was too relaxed to exert her normal self-control. Tears slipped down her cheeks.

  Johnny felt the wetness and pushed up, hovering over her. “What’s wrong?”

  She gestured it was nothing but couldn’t stop the flow. He wiped them with his thumb. “I’ll never hurt you, Dorrie. I couldn’t. I love you too much. In fact, just so you don’t ever have to worry about me leaving you…” He rolled off to the side then opened the nightstand and took out something small.

  Dorrie’s eyes grew wide. Oh my God. It couldn’t be. Could it? Goosebumps covered her arms and traveled up the back of her neck as she watched him bring the small box closer.

  “I love you with all my heart. Marry me, Dorrie.” He opened the container to reveal a stunning three-carat, square cut, diamond ring. “Not as big as that Dracula, Gunther, could afford, but…”

  She placed her fingers over his lips. He gazed up at her with love in his eyes.

  “It’s beautiful, gorgeous, fantastic. I love it.”

  “So…will you?”

  “Yes, yes, yes!” The wetness on her face came from happy tears as she laughed.

  He smiled and slipped the ring on her finger. “It’s a little big. We can have it resized.”

  “I love you, Johnny. Always have.”

  “Me, too. Weren’t we stupid, waiting all this time before getting together?”

  “Yeah, I guess. I’m so happy.” She beamed at him.

  He took her in his arms. “No more tears. No more pain, honey. Just smiles. Happiness from now on.”

  She sank into the warmth of his body and closed her eyes, her smile growing wider. A sense of security washed through her heart, soothing her. For the
first time in years, she was confident. I’m not alone anymore. I have a great man who loves me.

  Johnny got up off the bed. “Come on, one more surprise.”

  She cocked her head. “More?”

  “Yeah. Throw something on. It’s upstairs.”

  What more could he possibly do for me?

  Chapter Thirteen

  She slipped her dress on, and he stepped into his pants before he took her hand and led the way to the stairs. The third floor wasn’t divided up. Darkness made finding their way difficult. He loved that she clung to him. After taking two steps into the open space, he flipped a switch and the long, wide room burst into brilliance, lit up by floodlights.

  Stretching before them was the most beautiful, polished white wood floor. One wall was completely mirrored, with a long ballet barre the length of the room. The other side had three tall windows. It was her own private dance studio. This cost a fortune. I hope she likes it. Before she could speak, he jumped in with an explanation.

  “I thought…if you practiced every day, maybe you could dance again?”

  She jumped on him, wrapping her legs around his waist as he caught her, laughing through his surprise. Twisting her neck around to view the room, she sighed. “I love it. It’s perfect. My own dance studio! I can work out all the routines for the show here at home. I’m stunned. There aren’t words.”

  Satisfaction washed through Johnny. After all the trauma she’d been through, he had wanted to make her happy. Happier than that Dracula guy ever could.

  “Home? Did I say home? I haven’t had a home since mom died. Home sure sounds good.”

  “Sounds good to me, too.”

  As she lowered herself, more tears appeared on her cheeks.

  “More waterworks?”

  “Happy tears,” she said. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me before.”

  “No one’s ever loved you as much as I do.”

  She turned to face him. “You’re right.” She kissed him.

  “Come on. Try it out.” He went to the CD player and hit play. Her favorite piece from Swan Lake played. Dorrie went to the barre and did some stretches. Then, she danced. Johnny relaxed on a loveseat under one of the windows. He watched Dorrie move, at first tentatively, then with more confidence. He grinned. Great to see her dance again. To see her happy again. I didn’t realize she was so miserable until I saw her at the reunion.

 

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