Last Time We Kissed_A Second Chance Romance

by Nicole Snow

  “I'm sorry for last night. The other week, actually. I need to call dad, tell him exactly what was in that note Jace crumpled up, which I stupidly hid.”

  “Not yet.” He pulls me closer. “Wait, Presh. If Jace thinks he's safe at home, he just might give up his hypothetical chase and show up there again.”

  I bite my bottom lip. “I hope you're right.” But I doubt it.

  “Bullshit. Let this play itself out,” he says, as if he can read my mind. “After we've talked your brother down from trying to screw us over, or fuck his own life even harder, we'll have all the time in the world to come clean. Your folks think I'm a monster, don't forget. In their eyes, I did a lot of fucking damage, and I'm still doing it to their son.”

  My heart sinks. Hearing it like that spells out just how complicated this really is.

  “Look at me,” he says, as soon as my eyes drop. Then his hand is on my face and excitement flaps in my heart and there's no choice but to listen. There never really is once his eyes devour mine. “We'll sort this shit out if it's the last thing we do.”

  “We?”

  He gives a solemn nod. I think I'm floating. I wanted so badly to believe him last night, when he said it'd be different this time. Now, hearing it, seeing it, I'm starting to.

  “You and me, Presh. Just like it should be.” He pushes his forehead to mine, bathing my lips with his soft, warm breath. “But first, I have to say, I'm not exactly a fan of waiting around and letting your crazy-ass brother show up here.” He waits for me to look up. “I was planning to get away before I sent that letter. Head out to Lincoln City for a few days and clear my head. I'd still love to, matter of fact, the second I hear you're coming with.”

  My heart stops. I want to so bad, but the frown tugging at my lips says different.

  “Precious, what's wrong?” his hand captures my cheek.

  “It's just...my business. I need to be back in Spokane sometime this century. We'll be into planning for the third quarter soon. Also, I think my phone will die next time I open my corporate inbox. There's a billion messages I haven't answered.”

  “What you need, Amy Kay, is to do that shit some place you can breathe. Preferably after I've fucked that stress right out of you.”

  I let go of the sigh I'm holding in. This gorgeous devil knows my every weakness way too well. “Okay, fine. But I'm bringing my work. We can't spend all day on the beaches. And the second I hear Jace is home, crazy or sober, I'm giving mom and dad a full briefing.”

  Grabbing my hand, he pulls it to his chest, and then drops it lower to his waist. I gasp as the towel falls.

  It's incredible, really, how easily this man makes me feel like a lust-struck schoolgirl again.

  “Wouldn't have it any other way, darling. Remember that we part? And remember how Trent Usher doesn't fuck around?” I do.

  God, do I ever.

  “Seems we've also got ourselves a nice hard desk here. I know these robes get awfully claustrophobic the longer you wear them. Let me help.”

  His hand swats mine away, pulls on my belt, and soon my robe joins his towel on the floor.

  Trent helps all kinds of things then with his fingers, his tongue, and the rock hard part of him that's very good at making me forget every adult responsibility I'm supposed to have as a business owner in her mid-twenties.

  Beneath him, being fucked into this desk, I'm just Amy Kay.

  I'm Precious.

  I'm alive.

  Folding my hands around his inked shoulders, I dig my legs into his magnificent ass, enjoying the storm he thrusts into me.

  It's not long – barely a few minutes – before I cry out and feel his searing heat filling me again.

  “Holy shit – out here?” I'm trying to bat his hand away for the third time in the last hour. “Not the beach! I told you –”

  “Darling, it's mine. Got more than a mile going up and down the shore the whole weekend. Money rents a lot of privacy. Plus I think I'd really like to ruin this awesome view with your tits in my face.”

  So far, he's been patient. But there's only so much self-control a man like Trent Usher can grasp on an isolated stretch of pristine Oregon beach. Alone. With me.

  Especially after we've had a few drinks and I've been curled up on his lap for the better part of an hour.

  He isn't the only one fighting for composure. I've let my mouth wander to his neck a few times, shamefully tempted by the evil heat between my thighs.

  “I've never done anything like this. Out in the open. With you.” Why can't I speak in normal sentences? The second I shift on his lap, feeling the massive bulge against my thigh, it all makes sense. “You're sure there's nobody else around?”

  “Certain, Presh,” he rumbles, squeezing my hips, pulling me closer. “And if I'm wrong, so the fuck what? I'm way past caring if the whole world hears us. Time to live a little. Make up for all the living we lost apart.”

  He's insane.

  But I can't even protest as he pushes his face to mine, melting my lips on his, winning a moan from my throat. It's evening, the sun slipping behind the Pacific. The breeze blows off the waves, serenading our skin just on the right side of chilly.

  If not now, when?

  When will it ever be this perfect?

  I don't know, but perfect is starting to feel like the norm for the three days we've been out here. The little house he's rented next to the shore is simpler than I expect considering his billions and his sophisticated tastes.

  But it does seem isolated, like he said.

  It's also got everything we need. Which isn't much when we spend our days hiking, taking in the view of the rocky coasts and winding through the soft sands, me pretending to work while he whips up some honestly impressive dinners.

  I don't know where Trent learned to cook, but it's one more arrow in my heart. And right now, with his hands busy stripping me naked, there are plenty of those making me a fool. A happy, thankful, full-hearted fool.

  He lifts me off him gently, a vicious glint in his eye, pushing me down to his knees. He pulls my hands to his swimming trunks, the only scrap of clothing between me and every awesome inch of him.

  “Know how you said you wanted to suck me to the stars the other night? And I wouldn't let you because I was too busy buried in your sweet cunt?”

  Relentless heat reddens my cheeks. I nod slowly. I do.

  “Here's your chance, Presh. Suck. Suck me as long and hard as you want.” That's the only warning I get before his hands move mine, freeing his gorgeous cock in its fury.

  “Suck,” he says again, winding his fingers through my hair.

  It's an order I'm happy to follow. But not before I have my fun.

  My tongue flicks out, teasing his tip, then melts into a rush of air. His eyes sharpen, fury igniting, and his fingers nest my hair in a fist. “Fuck, Amy Kay, you're killing me.”

  “Not yet.” I run my hand up his cock, admiring his strength, his warmth, flicking my tongue at the end of him again.

  He groans, tries to grind into me, but I'm able to crane my head back, just out of reach.

  Trent's eyes are delirious now. It's the same look I saw on the Wilkie. The same in the elevator.

  The very same when he's on top of me, driving me into the mattress. The same raging, wanting, shut up and let me love you beast-gaze.

  My pussy tingles. Every second, every tease, it's harder to resist plunging my mouth down, taking his fullness.

  Somehow, I try.

  “Presh,” he growls again, an edge in his voice.

  I flatten my hands against his muscular thighs, pinning him down in vain, then flash my sweetest smile. “What's the rush? This is our private beach. Nice and isolated. Remember?”

  “Precious, fuck.” No more, the anger in his face says.

  I suppose he's suffered enough.

  I give his cock another squeeze near the base, loving how his pre-come spills over his fullness, and then he's engulfed in my lips. His rigid cock fills my mouth.
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  His hips arch, lifting into me. A sound escapes his throat like a growl trying to mask a helpless curse, and I smile, even while I'm full of him.

  It's so on.

  I run my tongue down his gorgeous length. Deep as I can without gagging, then up again, ringing my lips together. Tighter.

  This is how I get Trent Usher back for the last six years apart.

  This is how I say, never again.

  This is how I make him let go of his control, his strongman balance, his relentless need to remind me how easily I'm brought to my knees.

  So, I'm addicted to him. I won't deny it.

  But if that's the scary truth, there's no way he's getting off without being an equal slave. Drawn to my flesh and all the beautiful, filthy things it can do to him.

  My tongue goes to work, loving his taste, his heat, how he seethes in my mouth. I find the spot underneath his cock – the one that makes him twitch – and give it a furious licking.

  “Precious!” he growls again, adding his second hand to the side of my face.

  I'm caught between two big paws, rhythmically scaling him with my mouth. His whole body tenses, pulls at my hair, lifts off the cabana chair. I rear up, sucking at his head, begging him to blow.

  “Presh, fuck, I'm gonna –”

  It's my final warning. Like he doesn't know I won't swallow.

  His cock erupts a second later, filling my mouth with rich fire. I wring his shaft with my tongue, taking as good as he gives.

  It's hot, it's intense, and he's so mine.

  There's a steady fever in my extremities as I swallow him down. My nipples, my fingers, my toes, my pussy...a dull throb owns them. It's darker by the second as the sun slips beneath the horizon, but my skin knows a heat like the sun.

  Even when I'm full of him, I still want more.

  His head falls back. He's groaning, snarling my name between his teeth, lost in the storm I've kissed into his body from the cock up.

  He comes for what seems like forever, pouring his essence into me. I suck him until his cock stops jerking against my tongue and softens ever-so-slightly.

  “All better?” I kiss his tip again.

  “Halfway there. Give me another thirty seconds with that mouth, darling. Then it's you on my lap, riding me for all you're worth.”

  Oh. My. God.

  I didn't know men like him really existed. Men who can just keep going several times, barely getting soft between rounds, but then there's never been a man like Trent in my life.

  And there'll never be another.

  His want mirrors mine. Precise and perfect.

  I recognize his growl like the beat of my own heart once my mouth pulls at him again. It's familiar because it ripples, vibrating the same raw heat that clashes through my veins at every glance. I know that look when he tilts his head, staring through half-hooded blue eyes, a beautifully perfect mirror of how I've seen my own eyes reflected back in his shining pools.

  This is where we belong. Entranced in each other. In this love that's been aged by a whirling, heart-dizzy madness.

  “Presh?” he calls to me and I open my eyes. His hand pulls at my hair, harder than before, lifting me up. “Come the fuck here.”

  Then his hands are on me. A powerful Goliath hoisting me high, swinging my legs neatly across his. I'm in his lap. My pussy slides onto his cock and I choke out a moan.

  I was so damn ready, the line between pleasure and agony blurring the second I'm on him.

  Then it's just gone as his hands clench my ass, pulling me lower, another animal sound escaping his throat. “You want that O bad, precious girl?”

  I can't speak. I just whine a close approximation of yes, moving my hips into his, drawing him deep inside me every time. His bastard force holds back, letting me work, shifting on top of him faster and faster. I put my hands on his shoulders, lean down, until we're eye-to-eye.

  “Fuck me, Trent. Please.”

  His fingers dig into my ass. “You ride this cock. Give me your first O if you want to keep screaming real sweet through your second.”

  God.

  Yes.

  Please.

  My eyelids shudder. Every conscious thought melts in the blinding speed I throttle my body into his, impaled on his cock, fucking and grinding and hurling myself toward unholy release.

  “Harder, woman,” he growls, white-knuckling my ass. “I know you can fuck faster, harder, better than this. Give it to me real fucking good, and you'll get it like a god.”

  His body stiffens against mine. His stubble rakes the nook between my neck and my cleavage. One more tantalizing sensation my burning brain can't process.

  He knows what he's doing.

  Overloading. Overwhelming. Overtaking.

  Tearing me in two, a human wall, giving as good as I give. Making me work for it like a mad woman. He's my rock, my mountain to climb.

  I'm panting as the realization hits me. Not for long. The pleasure cresting in my core destroys my ability to realize anything at all.

  Except the shrill mewl escaping my throat.

  Except my fingernails raking at his skin. Clawing, tearing, holding on for dear life before I'm swept away.

  Except for the roar of the ocean behind me, devouring the sun, plunging us into an ecstasy indistinguishable from a storm-front forged in flesh.

  “Give it, Presh. Give it to me now.” He reaches with one hand, grabs at my hair, pulling my face to his. “Right. The. Fuck. Now.”

  I don't know if it's the princely look in his eyes or the way he slams his cock into me a second later.

  I don't know anything.

  I just go crashing over, screaming, pinching his shoulders so hard it hurts.

  I'm coming harder than I ever have in my life.

  Every nerve, every muscle, every sea-kissed stretch of my being turns to lightning. It turns to the sun, the moon, and the stars, and then to things I can't even describe.

  A feral woman. Lost and broke and helplessly addicted to this man slamming into me, a guttural breath on his lips, a curse every few thrusts as my pussy convulses on his thrusts.

  He fucks me straight through my first O without missing a beat.

  Never stopping until we both feel the strange, sticky heat between us. For a second, I wonder if he came, but I've felt his glorious heat in me too many times to know this is something else.

  “Trent, what...” I whisper. I still can't form full sentences. “What's –”

  “You just squirted on my dick for the first time, Presh. That's what,” he says, pushing his hips to mine, going deeper again. Shame and confusion heats my cheeks. “Relax, Precious. It's fucking hot. And I've got a terrible need to find out how many times you'll do it tonight.”

  His arms bend around me. This time, he fucks me good and proper, holding my body like a life-sized toy while he crashes into me.

  Deeper. Harder. Faster.

  Deeper again. Oh, holy hell, so freaking deep.

  He's using this angle to do something marvelous. Extra marvelous, I should say, because this man hasn't shown me a night where he doesn't fuck like he wants to bring down the sky.

  Trent throws his body into mine and meshes us together all over again.

  Grunting. Thrusting. Growling.

  There's no bucking this storm, no fighting it, so I just let go. I give in. I let him have me in my entirety. I let him use me. Full submission to his awesome power and frantic hips, driving me up toward the stars beginning to pepper the sky before he jerks me back to him again.

  The friction, the frenzy, the look in his eye – it's irresistible.

  There's no fight because I've lost.

  I'm going over again before I even know what hit me.

  This time, it's not my heat alone, consuming me from head-to-toe. Halfway through my first breathless spasm, Trent rams himself deep, holds his cock against the edge of my womb, and his whole body quakes.

  There's a manic growl as he comes. Pleasure swallows me whole.

&nbs
p; Later, I step out of the cabin's tiny outdoor sauna and throw my clothes on. I pick an outfit that's nice, loose, and easy. I'll need it since we're thoroughly spent and happily sated.

  At least until we both turn in for good tonight.

  Back in the house, I smile, eyes drawn to the delectable spread on the small circular dining table. My stomach growls. Sex works up an appetite under any conditions, but our sex, specifically, leaves me drained and ravenous.

  “Steak and lobster coming up, just the way you like it.” He pushes a full plate into my spot as I sit down, taking his seat across from me.

  Might be the best thing I've ever smelled. I'm sure it'll taste just as lovely because he's a damn good cook.

  I sip my wine, clearing my head, and then turn my knife and fork on the feast in front of us. It's buttery, medium well done, and divine. Even the asparagus has the perfect crispness, and the garlic mash does crazy things to my taste buds.

  “Save that look for later,” he says, a jokingly serious prickle in his eyes. “Can't enjoy my dinner when you're ready to jump my bones all over again.”

  “Your fault for making it too good.” I swallow and stick my tongue out quickly. “This is amazing, Trent. You're handling dinner from now on.”

  Slowing my chewing on the next bite, I study him across the table.

  Was that last part too much? Too hopeful?

  Too obviously pointed at a future I hadn't even consciously known I was hinting at?

  Crap. I swallow hard, second guesses flying in my head.

  “Sorry. That came out kinda wrong. Didn't mean to imply I'd be expecting you to fix dinner every night. Or any night. Or like, we'd be moving in or anything crazy, I just –“

  “Presh.”

  “I'm babbling. Clearly.” I'm also flushed.

  I shake my head slightly, embarrassed at the direction this is going. How deep can a girl fit her foot in her mouth?

  “Presh, stop apologizing,” he says firmly, letting his fork fall against the plate.

  He wipes his hands roughly before they disappear beneath the table. “I'm glad you brought it up. I've given it some thought. Hell of a lot of thought, actually, ever since you showed up on my doorstep, needing to confess your little heart out. Longer than that, really. Ever since I got home from Seattle and tried to stay sane. Since I sat down and started writing that letter you came across the other day.”