Alison: A Short Sweet Steamy Second Chance Romance (Heart Doctors Book 5)

by Carly Keene

  “When the fuck did I avoid you?” I yank my jeans up over my bare ass and grab my shirt. It’s inside out, and I see there’s a rip in the underarm seam. Figures.

  “I couldn’t wait to see you after Granny Pat died. But you were already gone.”

  I’d had a choice back then: wait until she got home, trust that she was really coming—or get the hell out and get on with my life. I was so scared then, and I’m so scared now.

  Best to get out before you get burned, my head says.

  My heart pulls a Dr. Phil on me. And how’s that working out for you, Tom?

  Shut up and just get out, I say silently to both my selves.

  It’s too late. Ali’s already pulled my shirt away and yanked open my jeans to pull my hard cock out. “You’re not leaving.” She drops to her knees and takes me in her mouth. Just like that, it’s too late. I couldn’t leave if the room was on fire.

  SEVEN

  Tommy

  I look down to where my Ali’s lovely mouth is full of my prick, with her long elegant fingers wrapped around it. She feels so good.

  She stops sucking and stroking me to say, “Stay here. Work through this with me.”

  “You’re being unfair,” I pant, trying to hang on to my anger and my sanity, but I’m losing them both. This is my Ali, my sweet, fierce girl who used to love me so much.

  “We have a lot to talk about,” she says, and then sucks me again. Her fingers are rolling my balls, playing with my taint, stroking my shaft, while her tongue and mouth slide over the head.

  Lightning flashes in my vision, and I have to push her off my dick before I explode all over her face. “If I’m staying, you’re not finishing me like that.”

  “No?” she says. And then she smiles. “Inside me again?”

  “You know it.” I bend down and pick her up, and toss her onto the bed. I step out of my jeans again and up to the edge of the bed. I put myself right between her legs and grab my cock, start rubbing it through her folds. She feels so good. I bump the head over her clit until she starts writhing, pushing her hips up faster, and then I know she’s got enough of a head start. I move down a little, slide an inch or two inside her cunt, and rub her clit with my thumb. “Ali. Baby, you feel like heaven. Nobody else has ever been like this. It’s you. You’re mine. I’m yours.”

  She’s panting. She reaches down and grabs my cock, pulls me all the way inside her. With her other hand, she pulls my face close to hers so I’m bent over her, and we’re so close. I love the feeling of her breasts against my chest, the hot pressure of her cunt around my dick. I’m gonna fucking lose it soon.

  “Baby, you gotta come,” I plead. “I’m too far gone.” I flick my thumb over her clit a little faster, and she moans loud, and then her pussy is squeezing me like a fist and I can let go.

  We stay like that for long moments. I slide my hands under her back, and she wraps both arms around my neck. “Don’t you dare leave,” she says, and kisses my forehead.

  I sigh. “I won’t.”

  “You have to get used to me being mad all over again,” she says, and laughs very quietly. The vibration that causes through her whole body makes my satisfied dick start thinking about more, before it realizes it’s thirty years old and needs a nap first.

  “As long as you don’t leave,” I say, and as soon as it comes out of my mouth, I realize how mad I still am that she abandoned me for her grandmother, and how stupid that is. Her grandmother was dying. I know how much she always longed for family: as much as I always have, too.

  “I won’t leave,” Ali says. “Come here.” She pats the bed beside her. I flop down and reach for her, but my legs are sticking off the bed, and by the time we rearrange ourselves again, I’ve stopped feeling so fucking weird.

  “So talk to me,” she says. “Why didn’t you call me, really?”

  I prop my head on my hand and try to be honest with myself. She waits, finger moving on the tat just below my left hipbone. It says “ALI” inside a heart. “I was scared to.” We say nothing for a little while. I stroke some of that cloud of hair off her shoulder and neck, smoothing it.

  “I thought Marines weren’t scared of anything,” Ali finally says.

  “I’d rather face live fire than not . . .” Another deep breath, because this is the shit. Here it is, right here. “Than not be enough for you. Not be good enough for you.” By the time I’ve said it, my voice is scratchy and so quiet I can barely hear myself.

  “You are always enough,” she says. “God, Tommy, I missed you with my whole self! I’m so pissed we didn’t get to spend these years together.”

  The sweetness of it washes over me, so much that my throat loosens up and I can say more. “You’re an MD. I’m a grunt. You sure you’re not going to rethink this somewhere down the road?”

  She sits up, and now I can tell she’s really mad. I remind myself that she gets mad when she’s really emotional. When her feelings are hurt. She pokes me. “Since when did I care about status? You tell me that.”

  I think about it. “Never.”

  She pokes me again, this time in my belly. “Then why would I care that some people would say we’re different? I don’t care. You don’t care. Fuck them, if they care!”

  “Do you think we’re different?” I ask carefully.

  “Under the skin? No. When you look at our hearts, we’re matched. I’m saying that some people think the way you were saying, about you being just a grunt, but they’re wrong. You’re never ‘just’ anything, Tommy.” She pokes me again. “I see your heart—the way you always took care of your mom and the Hernandezes at the bodega. The way you took care of me and Sunshine. I saw you keeping an eye out for that little kid in the waiting room tonight. You’re still the same guy I fell in love with, the same guy who has been my yardstick for the way I want to be loved.”

  I lean forward and kiss her nipple. It goes taut under my lips, and she inhales. I lick it delicately, and then with more purpose.

  “Stop distracting me with sex,” she says. “I mean every word of that. I love you. I missed you, I wanted you back, I didn’t know how to get you back. Now that you’re here again I’m never letting you go.”

  I can’t speak. I kiss her mouth, then her other nipple again.

  “I love you, Tommy. I have to just trust that you’re here forever. I’m not going to miss you again, ever.”

  “We’re forever,” I tell her, my throat constricted with love. “I swear.”

  “Endless love,” she says.

  “Endless love.”

  EIGHT

  Ali

  I love being Tommy’s Ali again. I’ll still be Alison in my professional life, but it’s a name only my Tommy can call me.

  He confesses all his fears to me. I confess mine to him.

  We make love again. It’s slower this time, more of an exploration. He plays with my nipples gently while I trace my tongue over every one of his six tattoos. The globe and eagle on his chest, the crest on his arm, the tribal armband on the other arm. The Semper Fi on his ribcage. The devil dog on his shoulder blade. And the ALI inside the heart, so close to his groin that I can’t resist leaning down for a lick of his super-size cone. I can taste my own juices on him, and it makes me so ready.

  Tommy nudges my hip and knee across his body, and while I’m sucking him, he’s got his tongue deep inside my pussy, his fingers pulsing over my little pearl.

  “You taste good,” he says, coming up for air. “You taste like both of us.” He goes back in, and I can feel my wetness sliding down my thighs. I’m probably almost drowning him the way he’s nearly choking me, but I suspect we’d both die happy.

  Then he slaps one butt cheek—not hard, but enough to make things jiggle, which makes a vibration all the way down to my pussy.

  I’ve never really liked being slapped on the ass before. But I’m really liking it now.

  “Ooh, do that again,” I tell him.

  “You telling me what to do?” There’s the ghost of a laug
h in his voice. “Gonna just lead me around by the dick now, aren’t ya?”

  “As much as possible.”

  He laughs out loud, blowing some very arousing air over my soaking-wet pussy.

  “Don’t stop what you were doing,” I beg, and go back to sucking.

  He blows on my clit again. No fingers, no tongue, no ass slap.

  I wiggle my hips. “Don’t stop!”

  He laughs again, his hard penis bouncing against my chin. I take it in my mouth again and play with that soft place behind his balls.

  And then, thank god, he smacks my ass again. Repeatedly. While licking my clit and rubbing my G-spot with two fingers. I come so hard I nearly black out. I barely register Tommy pushing me over to my back.

  “Wow,” he says, as my vision and hearing return. “I had no idea you were such a bad girl.” The smile in his voice makes me reach for him.

  “Me either.”

  “Think you could get on your knees with your ass in the air?”

  Hell, yes.

  He shoves a pillow under my hips, and raises my body to the right height for him. Then he lines his eager cock up with my vaginal opening, and works it in, until he’s in all the way. His hands are on my hips, pulling me back into him with each stroke, his hard prick rubbing over my G-spot every time. I’m so close to orgasm again. I reach a hand down to touch my clit, and he hums in approval. “Yes, baby. Rub that clit. Gonna make you feel so good.”

  He feels so huge inside me; I know he’s not going to take long. I flick one finger faster, and my whole body clenches with tension. I press my thighs closer together, and Tommy moans, and right then I come again, the tension leaving me with the spasms of my climax.

  “That’s so beautiful,” Tommy says, breathless, and his fingers slide over my pussy lips, smearing a warm wetness over them. “My cream all over you. Proving you’re mine.”

  “I think that means you’re mine,” I say.

  He lies down on the bed and pulls me into his arms, discarding the pillow. “Yep. I’m yours. Can’t get enough of you.”

  “It’s mutual.”

  We lie quiet for a few minutes. Then, of course, I have to talk again. Because for all my brave words a little while ago, I’m still scared.

  “You’re here to stay?” I ask. “You promise?”

  “I promise,” he says, and his eyes are so clear and steady. “Swear. Pinky swear. Cross my heart n’ hope to die.”

  “Don’t die.”

  He just smiles like the sun coming up, and then I remember telling him that before on the phone, when he was about to deploy. He promised not to die, and he kept that promise.

  “That really did keep me alive, you know,” he says, reading my mind. “I almost bought it in a firefight. Woke up in the hospital in Germany with part of my liver gone. They said that if my buddies hadn’t gotten a compression bandage on me, I would’ve lost too much blood. But I knew it was you I was saved for.”

  I try to sniff the tears back.

  “Go ahead,” he says, and pats my shoulder. “We’re very fucking lucky.”

  “We’re very lucky in fucking,” I say, through tears and a sneaky sort of laughter.

  “We’re very fucking lucky,” he says firmly. “You want to come over to Mom’s house for dinner tomorrow? She’ll be crazy with joy.”

  “Wild horses couldn’t keep me away. You want to meet my best friend Leilani when she comes to town next month?”

  "I'm in."

  "All the way?" I tease, looking at his dear, beautiful face.

  "In all the way. Forever."

  Epilogue #1

  Alison, two years later

  I straighten the framed certificate on the wall.

  Thomas C. Riley

  Certified Physical Therapist

  “I’m so proud of you,” I tell him. He’s been smiling a lot over the past couple of months, and I am so happy to see that. Whatever demons used to haunt him are gone.

  “Proud of you too,” he says, and strokes a hand over my hair. “Pulling in the bucks with that new job.”

  “I like my new job,” I say, content. It doesn’t pay quite as well as emergency medicine does, but the hours are considerably more reasonable. I actually get to sleep, and I actually get to do it snuggled up to my endless love, my Tommy. “Maybe we could buy a house, what do you think?”

  “I think so,” he says, and kisses me. “So this house . . . We’d be living in it together?”

  “Duh.” I kiss back, loving the feel of his strong arms around me.

  “You mean,” he says, moving those sexy lips of his from my mouth to my ear, and making me shiver with pleasure, “we’d be living in sin in this theoretical house?”

  “We’re living in sin now,” I say, until his lips slide from my ear down the side of my neck, and the pleasurable shiver turns into a distinct heat in the belly, and I forget what I was going to say next.

  “I don’t want to live in sin anymore,” Tommy says. One of his hands starts excavating under my shirt, doing unspeakable, wonderful things to my breasts, and then my nipples.

  I say nothing, just sigh. Maybe I moan a little.

  He unhooks my bra and does more things to my nipples, with fingers and mouth and tongue, and my panties start clinging to me.

  I still say nothing, my brain having gone on vacation and my nipples having gone to heaven.

  He pulls off my shirt, and I let him. My bra vacates the premises as well. He unzips my pants, and I let him do that too. And then his fingers are finding all the good spots inside my undeniably damp underwear, and my knees decide to go AWOL, and I think I might be moaning a lot.

  And then he slings me—completely naked at this point and not caring a bit—over his shoulder and carries me to the bedroom. During the brief time that he isn’t actually touching all my sensitive places, my brain pokes its head around the corner and makes me say, “What’s all this for, anyway? I thought we were going to have a discussion.”

  “We are,” he says. “But first I’m going to have my way with you and render you susceptible to my suggestions.”

  “Ridiculous,” I say, but I say it on an intake of breath because now he’s naked too, all that glorious inked skin of his open to my eyes and my own hands. “What makes you think you’re going to get your way with me?”

  He kneels between my thighs and gives me a smug grin. “Because I know what to do with my tongue.”

  “Mmhm,” I get out before that clever tongue is driving me crazy, licking my clit. I pant and writhe on the bed, and then he finds the exact right spot, and I seize his hair and hold him right there. It doesn’t take long before I’m high on my first orgasm of the day, crying out from the delight of it.

  When I can breathe again, I sit partway up and get a good grip on his beautiful hard cock. “Mine.”

  “Ah-ah-ah,” he says, and actually waves his forefinger at me. “This is what I was talking about. You don’t get fucked until you say yes.”

  “You’re making me ‘susceptible to your suggestions’?” I quote back at him, squeezing his dick a little.

  “Absolutely. You want another orgasm?”

  “I want you inside me.”

  “Nope. You’re not desperate enough for it.”

  “I’m desperate!” I protest.

  “Not yet,” he says, and I think he might be laughing.

  I have a diabolical idea. I simply sit up a little farther and take his cock into my mouth, stroking him with my hands and using my lips and tongue to stimulate the spot that drives him crazy.

  “Oh, that’s good,” he says.

  “Oo an esis ee,” I say, with my mouth full.

  “What?” He sounds rational, but his hands are on my head and his breathing has gone ragged.

  I let go with a slurp. “You can’t resist me when I’m sucking your cock, can you?”

  “I can’t resist you, period,” he says.

  And then he pushes me onto my back, and I’m thinking, well, this is more like
it, when he takes his long thick monster in his hand and starts teasing my clit with it, and it’s me who loses her mind instead of him. By the time I’m close to orgasm #2 and ready to beg, he stops. He just stops, and I growl in frustration.

  “I don’t want to live in sin,” he says. “I’m conventional. Can you accommodate me on this one?”

  “What?” I snarl, trying to get my hands on his cock and shove it inside me.

  “Marry me?” he says.

  All that lustful heat that was melting my brain two seconds ago has now melted my heart completely. I am a puddle of woman on a bed with her endless love.

  “Yes,” I say. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure!”

  “Okay, then,” he says, and this time he does shove that glorious dick inside me. My body clutches at him in climax almost immediately, my head flung back in abandon and my hands gripping his arms like I’ll never let him go.

  And again, later, when we’ve moved to doggy style, Tommy slapping my butt cheek twice and growling in my ear, “This ass is mine.”

  I moan through my orgasm before saying, “You know that means your ass is mine.”

  “I’m counting on it,” he grits through his teeth, and then I feel the heat of his cum spurting deep inside me.

  After we’re both breathing and relatively sane again, we’re twined around each other and holding hands. “Did you mean it?” he asks, shyly.

  “That I’ll marry you? Of course.”

  “I know it doesn’t mean that much to you,” he says, “not like it does to me.”

  “Yes, it does. You know it’s not just a piece of paper.” I kiss his beautiful mouth. “It means we’re family. We chose each other.”

  He kisses me back.

  “I do have a request, though.” He looks at me with trust. “Can we just elope and tell everybody afterward?”