A Second Chance at Forever

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A Second Chance at Forever Page 5

by Stewart, JM


  He dropped his head back and closed his eyes, tremors running through him, determined to let her take her time, to explore as she saw fit.

  When she reached for his belt, her fingers undoing the buckle and popping the button free, his stomach muscles jumped. His heartbeat sped up. When her fingers glided along the length of his erection as she pulled the zipper down, he thought for sure it was going to end right there.

  A long low groan slipped from his mouth. “God, you’re killing me.” The lack of control made him feel like a damn teenager having his first time. The woman had him on his knees, begging for mercy.

  She pressed her lips to his throat, her hot tongue darting out against his skin, singeing his flesh. “Good. Then we’re even.”

  He could hear the amusement in her voice and groaned again in response.

  She slid from his lap and stood. Alex looked up as she reached behind her to undo the clasp on her bra. She let the garment slide from her arms. Her breasts sprang free, her nipples puckering in the chill of the air conditioned room. Or was it arousal? The sight made his mouth water with the need to press his tongue to each one. He longed to draw another cry of pleasure from her lips.

  She tossed the garment over her shoulder. Then her hands slid down her body, over her curves, the way he’d seen her do a million times, the way he yearned to do. When her fingers once again gripped the waistband of her black lace panties, she had his undivided attention. His heart pounded as if it might beat right out of his chest. He couldn’t stop watching her if he tried. Three days he’d been waiting for those panties to come off, to finally see all of her.

  This time, however, she didn’t tease him. She simply shimmied out of them, cocked a playful brow as she tossed them at his chest.

  His breath caught in his throat as he finally got a look at her, standing before him gloriously and unabashedly naked. “You are so beautiful.”

  If she was nervous, she didn’t show it, didn’t fidget, but stood and let him look at her, soak her in.

  When she went to step out of her heels, he shook his head. “Leave them on. I like them.”

  The need to touch her too strong to deny any longer, he stood, wrapped his arms around her and tugged her against him. He delighted in the simple feel of her bare skin against his, warm and velvety smooth. Her puckered nipples grazed his chest, tormented him. He slid his hands down her curves, just to luxuriate in the silky feel of her skin, then cupped her bottom and tugged her closer.

  Damn. She was fire in his arms, and he was going up flames.

  She reached for his waist, let her body slink along his as she rid him of his pants and underwear, then caught his erection in her hand and stroked him softly.

  He groaned, shackled her wrist. “Sweetheart, you keep that up and it’s going to be all over right here.”

  She moaned, an almost purr of pleasure. Pressing along his length, she slid her hands around his ribcage and up his back. The feel of her bare curves molded to his was more than he could bear. Too much and not nearly enough.

  She nipped at his bottom lip. “Make love to me, Alex.”

  He didn’t need any further invitation than that. Claiming her mouth with wild abandon, he sipped and tasted. Allowed himself a moment to enjoy the feel of her in his arms and the heady flavor of her tongue, then pulled away. He grabbed a condom from the nightstand, sheathed himself, then caught her around the waist and tumbled her to the bed. Took his time as he moved over her. A nip on the curve of her hip made her gasp. Dipping his tongue into her belly button made her giggle and squirm away.

  When he reached her breasts, he stopped and settled himself between her thighs. Holding his weight on his elbows, he cupped them in both hands. He laved first one than the other with his tongue, took immense pleasure in the way her fingers sank into his hair as if to hold him there. Unable to resist, he looked up at her, watching her pleasure as he scraped his teeth over each tip.

  A strangled moan tore from her throat. Her back bowed off the bed. She reached down and pulled at him. Obliging, he moved up and settled himself over her, tucking her soft curves beneath him. Enjoyed the delicious way her body fit to his.

  “I need you,” she whispered.

  He brushed her hair back from her face. He’d thought about this moment a million and one times, fantasized about it as he’d lain awake in bed each night. He wanted to take it slow, take his time and draw out her pleasure. Until his was the only name she remembered, until he was positive she would never forget him.

  “Please, Alex.” She slid her hands down his back to cup his buttocks, arching against him.

  He captured her mouth and moved slowly, sliding into her, slipping back, then pushing forward again until he filled her completely. The feel of her surrounding him, so tight, warm and slippery, was almost too much.

  He gritted his teeth, let out a deep, shuddering breath. "I may not last very long, sweetheart."

  Her hands slid up his back to gather him closer. She lifted her head, murmuring against his skin as she pressed her mouth to his throat. "You can make it up to me next time."

  She arched her hips, rotating in slow circles, causing him to slide within her. He moved with her, rocking against her in a slow steady rhythm. God she felt incredible. The silky heat of her body wrapped around him. Her feminine curves molded to his. He reveled in the sheer power of her yearning as she clutched at his back, panting and mewling beneath him. He’d found heaven in her sweet, soft body. Lost himself and never wanted to be found.

  She moaned in his ear, met him thrust for thrust, gave back everything he gave her. Her reaction only fueled his desire. The rhythm increased with every stroke, their bodies pulsing together, until they were careening toward that fine, slippery edge as fast as their yearning could take them. She drove him to the brink of delicious madness and was hurling him over the edge so quickly he feared losing all control.

  Determined to take her with him, he reached between them, found her hot and slick clitoris and massaged her.

  Her fingers bit into the flesh of his buttocks. Her body arched tightly against him. “Oh God… A.J…”

  The sound of her pleasure, the feel of her body clamping around him, massaging his length, proved too much. His climax ripped through him. As he joined her in oblivion, her name left his mouth on a hoarse groan. He shook in her arms, feeling entirely too much like he’d poured a huge chunk of himself into her. Hers to keep.

  He lay on his back a few minutes later, Angela gathered against his side, her head on his shoulder. Her soft cry echoed across the recesses of his memory. The name she’d called him stood out in his mind.

  His eyes popped open. She hadn’t called him Alex. She’d called him A.J. Nobody had called him that since he’d graduated high school. He’d been going by Alex since college. In fact, only a certain few people had ever called him that.

  Heart beating an erratic pace, his mind filled with her bright blue eyes, and the last time he’d seen eyes like those. He jerked his gaze to the top of her head, hooked his fingers beneath her chin and tilted it up, desperate to see her face.

  The memory rose unbidden in his mind. A fifteen-year-old girl standing on the porch of her mother’s house, looking up at him with the exact eyes staring back at him now. She had the same button nose, the same full lips… He’d noticed the similarities more than once, but had dismissed them….

  Then his mind flashed on the night before, the name she’d given him as they’d stood beside her car in the parking lot of the dance club.

  “My name is Angela.”

  The way she’d looked at him, as if she’d expected him to have something to say about it.

  Oh hell… “That Angela?”

  ****

  There it was. The moment she’d dreaded.

  Angela squeezed her eyes shut, her stomach churning. Alex had asked the one question that had left her caught for days now. Deep inside lived a secret yearning for him to know it was her, but she knew if he did, he likely wouldn’t want
her at all.

  He sat up and pulled away. His brow furrowed in disbelief and pained accusation. “Please tell me you’re not that Angela.”

  Heaviness seeped into her limbs, wanting to sink her. She knew darn well what was coming. Now that he knew who she was, he no doubt regretted making love to her. He’d wanted Candy. Men always wanted Candy. No man, not even her ex-husband, had ever wanted her.

  Drawing in a deep breath, she forced herself to look up at him. He deserved that much. “When did you figure it out?”

  “When you called me A.J.” Despite the irritation in his voice, desire flared in his eyes.

  Heat crept into her cheeks, warming her face. “I’m sorry. It just…slipped out. It’s been very difficult to remember to call you Alex. I still want to call you A.J.”

  He cocked a cynical eyebrow. “Were you even going to tell me, Angie?”

  Her stomach twisted with the pain that rose up around her. “Angela. Nobody calls me Angie anymore.”

  She wasn’t that stupid geeky girl anymore, dammit! Even as she thought it, she knew, deep inside, she’d always be that girl. It was who she was, and she couldn’t hide from it.

  He swung his legs over the side of the bed, shoving a hand through his hair, disheveling it. “And nobody’s called me A.J. since high school. Brock doesn’t even call me that anymore. You should have told me.”

  He was right. She’d been a coward. She hadn’t wanted to face him, hadn’t wanted to see that look in his eyes, the one currently screaming at her. “Would you have invited me here tonight if you’d known, Alex?”

  She didn’t need to ask. She knew the answer.

  He darted a glance back at her. “You shouldn’t have lied to me.”

  “I didn’t lie to you.” Not technically. “I did try to tell you.”

  “You didn’t exactly tell me the truth either. You let me believe you were just a stripper from the club.”

  Only minutes ago those eyes had held such passion and tenderness. Now they stared at her in furrowed accusation.

  “Would you have invited me here tonight if you’d known?” she asked again, every inch of her heavy as the weight of reality descended on her.

  He didn’t say anything at first, merely glared across the bed at her. God they were sitting on the very bed they’d just made love on, both still naked, a fact that seeped into her pores and somehow only made her heart ache all the more.

  Then his features softened. He jerked his gaze toward the curtained windows. Moonlight streamed in through a crack in the thick curtains, creating a bright streak across the tan carpeting. She could feel the wall that erected between them, watched it go up in the stiff set of his shoulders.

  “I don’t know.” He pushed off the bed and stood, crossing the room in long determined strides, then disappeared into the attached bathroom. The soft click as the door closed behind him resounded through the quiet of the room.

  “I didn’t think so,” she whispered to herself.

  Dejection sitting heavy in her chest, she rose from the bed and forced her leaded feet to move as she gathered her clothing off the floor. She would never regret tonight, would cherish the time she’d spent with him until the day she died. She didn’t do one night stands. It wasn’t her style. She would probably never have one again. This weekend he’d given her something intangible. He’d made her feel desired and beautiful, in a way no man before him ever had.

  She knew darn well, though, that their time together had been a mistake for him. She’d seen it in his eyes, heard it in his voice. Now that he knew who she was, he wished it had never happened.

  The weight of that reality settled on her dark and heavy. It made her feel like the nerdy teenager she’d been once, watching the boys pass her by and the girls tease her. The girl who’d spent the night of her prom alone, because nobody, not even the nerds, had wanted to go with her. Whose ex-husband had called her dowdy and boring when he’d dumped her for another woman.

  It made her yearn for nothing more than to get out from beneath the weight of being who she was. This was why she loved being a dancer—because at least at night she could pretend to be someone else.

  She dressed in a hurry, determined to leave before Alex returned from the bathroom, before the tears that burned behind her eyelids refused to be held back any longer. She wouldn’t give him the benefit of seeing her pain. No man would ever know he’d broken her. Not ever again.

  Chapter Five

  Alex returned from the bathroom a few minutes later to find Angela fully dressed. She strode toward the exit, her gait long and determined, like she couldn’t get out fast enough. The sight caught him. He halted beside the bed, his heart hammering as an inexplicable surge of panic expanded in his chest. “You’re leaving?”

  Her steps faltered then stopped. She darted a glance at him. Her back remained ramrod straight. “It doesn’t take a genius to figure out you don’t want me here, Alex.”

  For a long moment, Alex could only stand there, confused by the wave of emotion that washed through him at her admission. He desperately wanted to hold on to the anger he’d gone into the bathroom with. Angela had lied to him, had no intention of revealing her true identity. She was right, had he known, he wouldn’t have slept with her.

  A mixture of anger, hurt, and uncertainty flashed like neon signs from the depths of her eyes, hitting his chest like a wayward arrow. Whatever else stood between them, she was hurt, and he was the cause.

  He’d been the one to put that pain in her eyes. It tore him apart to see it.

  Whatever fury he’d gone into the bathroom with drained from him. A wave of regret took its place. Swearing under his breath, Alex sank onto the edge of the bed. “You’re my best friend’s kid sister, Ang. I’ve known you since you were eight.” He ducked his head, dragged his hands through his hair with all the frustration winding through him. “Christ, if your brother finds out, he’ll have my hide.”

  She heaved a sigh. “Look, you’re right, okay? Maybe I should have told you. But you wanted Candy, because men always want Candy. She’s sexy and vivacious, and she isn’t afraid to show it. I was afraid if you knew who I was you wouldn’t want me. It wouldn’t even have mattered anyway, because you were leaving, going back to New York soon. I knew I’d never see you again.”

  When she hesitated, as if waiting for a reply, he lifted his head. She now stood with her shoulders slumped, arms hanging limp at her sides. She looked so damned vulnerable the sight nearly pulled him onto his feet.

  “I just wanted one night, Alex,” she said, continuing before he had time to think of an intelligent response. “One night with the only man in a long time who seemed to see me beneath Candy and still thought I was beautiful. I’m sorry I lied to you.”

  The dejection in her tone cut him like a knife. More than anything, he wished he had the right words to somehow make this better. He was a lawyer for crying out loud. He made his living persuading people. He was damn good at it too; had an excellent record. But right then, words failed him.

  When he didn’t say anything, her shoulders slumped, and she turned, resuming her trek for the exit. As he watched her, his chest tightened. He had all of about thirty seconds before she walked out that door and out of his life. Another twenty years would likely pass before their lives crossed paths again, before he got to look into those hypnotic blue eyes, or hear the soft tinkling sound of her laughter. He didn’t come back to Vegas often. They didn’t run in the same circles anymore.

  Somewhere in the back of his mind, a small, cynical voice whispered, don’t just sit there. Stop her, stupid!

  That inexplicable pull between them still held him firmly within its grasp. For three days he’d wanted her and damned if he still did. He ached for her, wanted to make love to her until the sun came up, to lose himself in her.

  A future wasn’t something he had to give, though. He’d had his gift, his once in a lifetime. Had it and lost it. He wouldn’t get another chance. He didn’t even want to try. His
heart couldn’t take being torn like that again. Angela sure as hell deserved better than a one night stand.

  When her hand closed around the handle and pulled the door open, something inside of him bound up into a tight coil that released in an instant and propelled him off the bed. Before he’d even made the conscious decision, he was halfway to her.

  “Wait.” The word left his mouth on a hoarse whisper, wrenching the knot in his gut. He wasn’t ready for a relationship or anything like one. He sure as hell wasn’t ready for their relationship to change. Still he found himself telling her, “Stay.”

  For a moment she hesitated, stood staring at the door. Then slowly she faced him. Her lower lip caught between her teeth, and she wrapped her arms around herself. She looked vulnerable and uncertain. He hated that he’d been the one to make her feel that way.

  He shook his head. “I don’t want you to leave."

  She folded her arms across her chest and arched a brow, clearly not convinced. “What happened to me being Brock’s little sister?”

  He shook his head and crossed the room to her, stopping just beyond her personal space, not wanting to push her. “To be honest, I don’t even want to think about it. All I know is that I need the woman who mesmerized me last night, and that woman is you.”

  It made no damn sense, yet it made all the sense in the world. He only needed her.

  “I need the woman I danced with last night. That warm, soft, sassy woman who wrapped me around her little finger.” Compelled to connect to her, he drew a finger down her arm. “To be honest, Ang, you make me feel like a man for the first time in a long time.”

  She was the warm fire his frozen heart needed. If he let her leave, he’d regret it.

  “I have to be honest with you, though. I can’t promise you tomorrow. My flight leaves in five hours. I have to be on it.”

  She stared at him for so long he thought for sure at any moment she’d storm out of the room, out of his life. His stomach clenched, wound him in a tight knot. Her scent, soft, floral and feminine, slid around him, warm and enticing.

 

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