Second Chance: A Military Football Romance

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Second Chance: A Military Football Romance Page 108

by Claire Adams


  “Excuse me?” I said.

  Her mother looked over her shoulder, as if she’d heard something behind her. She stepped outside, pulling the door shut behind her.

  “You can’t come here and try to intimidate me,” she said.

  I held up my hands. “Ma’am, I am not trying to—”

  “And don’t ‘ma’am’ me. Don’t act like you’re this refined person, because you are so clearly not. Listen, I am not trying to insult you.”

  I laughed. “Oh, really?”

  “I know it might seem that way, but I’m not—Chloe’s father and I just want what’s best for her, which I hope you can understand.”

  “And I’m not what’s best for her. You know this how?”

  “Look. We don’t have to turn this into something that it’s not. I’m not sure what’s going on between you and Chloe, if anything at all. But you are not the right person for her.”

  “You don’t even know me.”

  “You’re right, I don’t. But I don’t need to. Chloe is a good girl who might be a little confused about things. And I’m not trying to say that you yourself aren’t a decent person, but you are not the type of person that she’s going to end up with. You showing up unannounced at the house like this is entirely inappropriate, might I add.”

  I was having a hard time believing that I was actually hearing all this. I kept waiting for her to start to laugh and say it was a joke, but there was a part of me that wasn’t surprised because I knew many of the rich summer residents thought like this. Most wouldn’t actually have the balls to come out and say it, but Chloe’s mom didn’t seem to have any qualms about it.

  “She’s not going to come out here and talk to you. I think it’d be best if you just went on your way. And please don’t try to get in touch with her again.” She stepped back into the house and looked at me once more before firmly shutting the door in my face.

  Right. Okay, then.

  Chapter Thirty

  Chloe

  I watched from my bedroom window as he got into his truck and drove away. I could only imagine what my mother had said to him. Actually, I didn’t even want to know.

  But he had driven out here, presumably to see me. Tara must’ve given him the address. I’d been working hard to put him out of my mind, but even just seeing him through the window like that made me realize that he really wasn’t someone I just wanted to forget about. There was something more there.

  *****

  I drove by the shop first but didn’t see his truck, so then, I went over to his house. He was home, and I felt a mixture of relief and anticipation building in my chest as I got out of the car.

  I tapped on the wooden frame of the screen door. I could hear him moving around in there, and then a second later, he appeared, the surprise apparent on his face.

  “Chloe,” he said. I stepped back so he could open the door. “Come on in. If you want,” he added.

  “I do want to.” I went inside. “I saw that you had stopped by earlier. I was upstairs, but I could see you from the window. Talking to my mom.”

  “Yeah. That didn’t go so well.”

  “That’s why I didn’t come down. We would’ve just gotten into a huge fight and I didn’t feel like it. But whatever she said to you—I’m sorry. And I hope you know that I don’t actually feel that way.”

  He nodded. “You know, I’m really glad to hear that. And just so you know, nothing happened between me and Francesca that day. It could have—but it didn’t.”

  “Well, thank you. That makes me happy to hear it.” I smiled and took a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot. And at first I felt like I didn’t know what I wanted to say, but I realized that I actually do know exactly what I want to say. And that is that I like you. More than just a friend, way more than I like Parker, probably more than I’ve actually liked anyone before, ever. Which might seem kind of crazy seeing as we don’t even know each other that well, but I don’t care—I want to get to know you better. I want to spend time with you. Other people can think whatever they want, but it’s not their life. I’m all done doing things just because someone else thinks that’s what I should do.”

  “Chloe,” he said, rubbing the lower part of his face. When he took his hand away, he was smiling. “You don’t know how happy I am to hear you say that. I feel the same way.”

  I grinned. “Well. Imagine that.”

  “So, you knew that your parents were going to have an issue with us,” he said. “That’s why you brought up keeping it a secret that time at Lorraine’s.”

  I nodded. “Yeah. I didn’t think it would be this bad, though. I didn’t realize they’re such elitist assholes.”

  He pulled me toward him and brushed a few wisps of hair back from my face. “Let’s not talk about them,” he said. “There’s something else I’d much rather be doing right now.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Graham

  “I like the sound of that,” Chloe said.

  I ran my hands down her back and kissed her neck, then nipped and sucked at the soft skin there. She smelled so good and her skin was like silk. She slipped her hands underneath my shirt and drew her fingernails up and down my backside. We moved over to the couch, shedding our clothing, first her shirt, then her bra, and I paid attention to those gorgeous, perfect tits of hers before removing my own shirt. She slipped out of her shorts and her underwear and I kicked my jeans off.

  “I didn’t get to return the favor after that day in your studio,” I said, gently pushing her down on the couch so she was sitting but leaning back all the way, her ass at the very edge. I repositioned myself and put my hands on her inner thighs, pushing them apart. I put my mouth on her, licking first her clit and then her pussy, feeling how wet she already was. She groaned and reached down, grabbing my hair with her fingers.

  I spent a while down there, feeling her getting wetter and wetter. While I licked her clit, I slid one finger, then another, inside of her, and she squirmed against me, arching her back, moaning through clenched teeth. I didn’t want her to come yet though, and each time I sensed she was getting too close, I backed off a little, pulling my fingers out or letting my tongue just rest on her without moving.

  “Oh my God,” she kept saying in a throaty whisper. Finally, she yanked on my hair, hard. “I need you inside of me,” she said. “Right now.”

  Ah, music to my ears. My dick was as hard as it’d ever been, and I fumbled first with getting my wallet out of my discarded jeans, then getting the condom out of the wallet, then finally with ripping open the packet of the condom and getting it on my dick. I just wanted to hurry up and get it on so we could get back to it. Finally, I got it. She slid down toward the end of the couch, draping herself over the arm, her feet on the ground now, ass up in the air. I held on to either side of her hips and she dropped down to her forearms, making it easy for my dick to just slide right in. I took a deep breath and let my eyes close. Fuck, that felt so good. She pressed her ass back against me, then moved forward, then back again, repeating that, so for a few, heavenly minutes, I just remained still while she fucked herself on me.

  And then we shifted positions; I brought her back onto the couch, much like she’d been when I’d gone down on her, except I put her legs up onto my shoulders and leaned over her. My face was right in front of hers and I leaned down, almost folding her in half, so I could kiss her. I slid back inside of her, and with her knees up by her head, I was able to get as deep in her as I’d ever been in anyone. I moved slowly at first, a warm tingling feeling shooting up my spine, into my brain, with each thrust. I rocked my hips faster, and she squeezed her legs around my neck, her eyes shut, mouth slightly open as she panted and groaned. I could feel her pussy muscles contracting and relaxing against my dick, pulling me in further the faster I moved. She was right there at the edge, about to come, and I wasn’t far behind. I kissed her again, and then just left my mouth there against hers as we moved together, not really kissing but just conne
cted, and then she bit down on my lip as she started to come, letting out a little shriek, her fingernails scraping the length of my back, the pain of it just heightening the pleasure I was feeling even more. That ecstatic tingling feeling that had been spiraling up my spine exploded through my whole body as I came, and for a few incredible seconds, it felt as though my brain had short-circuited, rendering me nothing more than a pile of neurons and synapses, pulsating in pleasure.

  And I could tell just by looking at Chloe that she felt the same way.

  She worked her legs down from my shoulders and stretched out, and though it was a tight fit, I lay down next to her on the couch. Our bodies were slick with sweat as I wrapped my arms around her. She nestled back into me, sighing in contentment.

  “That was amazing,” she said. “I think that was the most amazing feeling I have ever experienced.”

  I smiled. I’d been given plenty of compliments over the years about my ability in the sack, but that was, by far, the one that made me feel the best.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chloe

  I left Graham’s place later that afternoon when he went to go meet up with a buddy of his for a bike ride.

  I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face as I drove home, and I kept replaying the day back in my mind. It almost felt like this wasn’t my life—except it was, and I couldn’t be more thrilled. But that smile faded when I turned down the driveway and saw Parker’s car there. He was standing on the front lawn, talking with my mother, who had that charmed look of hers on her face.

  “Chloe!” she said after I parked and got out. “Look who was just in the neighborhood and decided to drop by! Did you get my voicemail? I left several of them; I wasn’t sure where you went.”

  “The art center,” I said immediately. I walked over, my inner thighs sore. “Sorry, the ringer was turned off on my phone.”

  “That’s okay; Parker and I were just having a nice chat. But I’ll leave you two. Nice to see you, Parker!” My mother grinned at him and then turned and walked back toward the house.

  “Hey,” he said. “I was just about to leave. Glad you showed up, though. What are you up to right now?”

  I couldn’t keep this up. I had to tell him.

  “Look, Parker,” I said slowly. “I think you’re really nice, and I appreciate you wanting to hang out and take me places. I know my mom gave you my number and everything, but ... I just think it’s better if we didn’t see each other. I mean, I know we’re not dating or anything, so ... so I feel a little weird having this whole conversation to begin with. It just seems like you’ve really gone out of your way to hang out and stuff and I don’t know, correct me if I’m wrong, but it’s probably to be more than just friends, right?” I felt myself blushing because I knew how convoluted I sounded. What the hell was I even trying to say? It made sense in my head, but now that I was actually verbalizing it, the whole thing sounded pretty confusing. And was I really saying that I thought if a guy was trying to hang out with a girl it was to be more than just friends? What if I’d been wrong this whole time and Parker really just wanted to be friends?

  “I’m really sorry,” I said. “I hope you can understand.”

  “Wow.” He nodded, but he looked surprised. “Wow. Um, okay.”

  “I’m sorry,” I repeated. “I know you’re probably not used to being the one who gets turned down.”

  “That’s one way of putting it.” It was hard to tell if he was annoyed or not. He looked confused more than anything else. Was he upset? He looked at me more closely, though he wasn’t quite looking at my face.

  “Look, you know, if you want to just be friends, maybe we can hang out—”

  “Nice hickey you’ve got there,” he said. I brought my hand up to my neck; I hadn’t realized I even had one. Parker walked over to his car. “Have a good one,” he said, and then he got in and drove away.

  I knew my mother would come out any second and want to know why Parker left, and then she’d probably see that I had a hickey and want to know where that came from, so I just got into my own car and took off, even though I’d just gotten back. I called Tara.

  “Oh, good!” she said. “I was just about to call you. I need a coffee. Meet me at Stacatto.”

  “Sure,” I said. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  *****

  Tara was already there, sitting at one of the outside tables when I arrived.

  “I got you an iced latte,” she said as I sat down.

  “Thanks.”

  “Um, wait a second, Chloe.” She leaned over and brushed my hair back. “Is that a hickey I spy?”

  I pulled away. “It might be.”

  She grinned. “Oh, you’re so bad! I love it. From Graham, I assume.”

  “Yeah. Definitely not from Parker. He just happened to be at my house when I got home and I sort of broke things off with him. Except that we weren’t even dating, so it’s not like there was actually anything to end. It was kind of awkward and awful, actually.”

  “Oooh.” Tara winced. “Did he take it badly?”

  “Well ... not really. I mean, he wasn’t psyched or anything, but he certainly wasn’t brokenhearted. It was just a weird situation all around. I guess that’s what happens, though, when your parents try to interfere with your dating life. But things with Graham are going pretty well.” I tried to keep myself from grinning but couldn’t. “We slept together again. And it was so good!”

  She squealed and clapped her hands and made me give her all the details. “I’m so proud of you!”

  “Yeah,” I said, taking a sip of the cold drink. “I’m pretty happy about it myself, too.”

  “Well, there was something I wanted to tell you too. Michael got in touch with me. Demanding to know if I was seeing someone else. Apparently, he’s coming to the Cape next week.”

  “Are you?” I asked. “Seeing someone else?”

  “No! You’d know if I was. But that day I ran into Graham at the coffee shop, I told him about the pictures and he said he didn’t care if I put them back up. So I did. And Michael messaged me!” Tara looked positively gleeful.

  “You’re not planning on getting back together with him though, are you?” I asked, trying not to feel horrified at the idea. I sure hoped she wasn’t going to get together with him when he got here.

  “Of course I’m not. I’m not an idiot. But he was very curious about whether or not I’d ‘found someone to replace him,’ as he put it. So ... I might’ve stretched the truth a little and told him that Graham and I were seeing each other. You should’ve heard how upset he was! Acting like he was all wounded that I’d found someone else. It was really unbelievable. So I asked him if he was still together with that girl, whatever her name is, and he told me that he isn’t. And then he asked if I’d meet up with him when he got here, because he wanted to talk.”

  “Please tell me you said no.”

  Tara hesitated, and I knew that she’d agreed to see him. “I just want to tell him in person,” she said. “I want to tell him that he’s a piece of shit, and I also want to be able to turn him down when he asks me back out. Because I know he’s going to.”

  “Tara.” I shook my head. “He is an entitled prick. You’re really just antagonizing him. He is not someone who is used to hearing ‘no’ for an answer.”

  “Well, he’s going to get used to it, because that’s exactly what he’s going to hear from me. Anyway. The other thing I wanted to tell you was there is an awesome party happening tonight. On the beach. And you should invite Graham.”

  “He went out for a bike ride.”

  “Yeah, but I bet he’s not going to be doing that all day. This party will be off the hook! If it sucks, we don’t have to stay, but I doubt it’s going to. Text him now and ask. We can meet up at his shop or whatever, and all go in one car. Come on, Chloe! This is the new you, and the new you is someone who goes to a beach party with the man she’s having sex with!”

  “Okay, fine,” I said. “You’ve
convinced me.” I grabbed my phone out of my purse and texted Graham, asking him if he wanted to go.

  *****

  It was hard to tell how many people were on the beach, but probably at least 60 or 70. There was a bonfire and some sort of club-type music being blasted from someone’s speakers. There was also a row of coolers, with beer, wine, and even some champagne.

  “Quite the party,” Graham said as we walked through the soft sand.

  “This is a private beach, so we don’t have to worry about the cops bothering us,” Tara said, skipping ahead.

  I scanned the faces of some of the people. It was dark, so it was difficult to see anyone too clearly. I recognized a few of the faces, but it wasn’t anyone that I would say I was friends with. I felt a flare of nervousness, but then Graham reached over and took my hand. He wouldn’t know anyone here either, and he seemed completely unbothered by this fact.

  “Let’s get something to drink,” Tara said.

  Everyone was quite friendly, whether because they were nice people or because they’d been drinking. As we walked over to the coolers, though, who should I happen to catch sight of but Parker.

  “Oh, shit,” I said under my breath.

  “What?” Tara asked.

  I nodded. “Look who’s here.”

  She saw him, but shrugged. “So what? There’s enough people here you don’t have to talk to him if you don’t want to. What do you want to drink?”

  Graham opted for a beer and I took one of the bottles of hard lemonade, figuring that that would be the least gross-tasting of all the choices. And it actually wasn’t that bad. I took a few sips and almost immediately felt myself start to relax a little. So Parker was here. Big deal. Tara was right; there were enough people here that I could easily avoid him. He was talking to a gorgeous girl who looked like she was probably a model or something. If he’d been at all upset about our conversation earlier, he certainly wasn’t showing it now.

  *****

 

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