Last Chance: A Second Chance Romance

by Kira Blakely

  She tastes the same – warm and thick, slightly sweet and slightly salty.

  Perfect.

  “Dash!”

  As I move my tongue faster, I glance up to see her throwing her head back, eyes shut, her nails scratching my scalp. Her body shakes all over. Her hips lift off the edge of the bed.

  Then she goes completely still, arms falling to her sides. I lift my head, licking my lips.

  I lean up and take off my boxers, setting my cock free. Seeing it, Janine’s eyes grow wide and she pushes herself further up on the bed, spreading her legs and stretching her arms out to me.

  Fuck. The sight almost makes me come then and there.

  Almost.

  I pounce on the bed, placing my arms and legs on either side of her.

  “I thought you didn’t want me.”

  She cups my face. “I could never stop wanting you. Besides…” She strokes my cheeks. “You’re right. I’m… still in here.”

  “In here?” I slip a finger inside her.

  She gasps. “That’s it.”

  I chuckle.

  She places her hands behind my head, lifting hers to kiss me.

  I kiss her back as I stroke her, feeling her become softer, wetter, hotter.

  I can’t take it anymore.

  I position myself on top of her, pausing to push some of her hair off her forehead and stare into her eyes of molten gold. Then I move my hips, sliding inside her, filling her inch by inch.

  She clings to my shoulders, her eyes rolling back. Her mouth gapes open to let out a moan. I kiss her, swallowing all the moans that follow. My hips move faster, rocking her body with mine.

  One of her hands moves to the back of my head, caressing my hair as she kisses me, her hips moving to meet my thrusts.

  I go harder and faster, like I’m in a panic. My cock balloons inside her. I know it won’t be long. It’s been too long already and I need it so bad.

  Janine frees her mouth from mine. “Faster,” she pleads.

  I break my previous speed and place an arm around her, my face against hers as I jerk my hips. Her hands cling to my back. “Dash!” she cries out.

  I let go just moments before she does. Our bodies tremble while drenched in sweat. Panting pierces what is otherwise the silence of the room. I let her milk me of every last drop.

  I lift my head to look at her. “Well?” I ask. “Do you still like it?”

  Janine grins, giving me a squeeze with her pussy. “I think you know the answer to that.”

  I chuckle, kissing her forehead before I pull out. I lie down beside her, pulling her into my arms.

  “I told you everything was fine, baby doll.”

  Janine snuggles against my chest. “As long as you, me, and Brandon are okay… everything is fine.”

  Before I can answer, the lights flip back on.

  “Bummer,” I say.

  Janine laughs.

  Outside, I hear a dog still barking.

  “Do you think they found whatever it was?” Janine asks, lifting her head.

  “Probably.” I run my fingers through her mess of red hair. “We’re safe, anyway.”

  She lays her head back down. “You know, being a mom has made me feel brave… and more afraid.”

  I grasp her chin so that her gaze meets mine. “You have nothing to fear. I promised your mom that.”

  “So that was what you talked about?”

  I nod.

  She rests her head on the crook of my shoulder. “She doesn’t have much time left.”

  I kiss the top of her head. “I’m sorry, Janine.”

  She shakes her head. “I knew this was coming.”

  Even so, I can hear the fear in her voice. I can feel her pain as her tears land on my skin.

  I hold her tighter, burying my lips in her hair. “Shh. It’s alright. I’m here for you.”

  I stroke her hair as her shoulders start to shake and the drops on my chest turn into puddles, letting her cry softly until she falls asleep.

  When she stops moving, her breath evens and I gently push her off of me and place her head on the pillow. I wipe her half-dried tears and then pull the covers up to her chin before getting out of bed.

  I pick up my boxers off the floor, putting them back on. Then I grab my robe, tying the sash. I may have seemed casual with Janine, because I wanted her to calm down, but now that she’s asleep, I go to the adjoining room to check on our son too.

  He is in his crib, sound asleep, unaware of anything that just happened.

  I tiptoe out of the nursery and the bedroom, closing the door behind me. I head downstairs and outside, where I find the gardener, Ed, smoking a cigarette.

  “Ed. Do you know what happened?” I ask him, placing one hand on my hip.

  “Sir.” He turns around, surprised to see me. “There was an intruder, sir.”

  “Did you find him?”

  “Not… yet.” He shakes his head, his cigarette behind him. “He must have turned back and escaped when he set off the alarm.”

  “Did the dogs find anything?”

  “No. But Larry is checking the cameras now.”

  “Okay.” I pat him on the shoulder. “Let me know if you find anything.”

  “I will, sir,” he answers. “Whoever tried to break into the mansion was an idiot. He should have known this house would have a damn good security system! I mean, we make them. I mean, you make them, sir.”

  I grin. “Yes. Foolish. Let’s hope they learned their lesson. Still, be alert.” I put my hands in the pockets of my robe, looking around. “You never know.”

  Chapter 21

  Janine

  October 2018

  I knew this was going to happen. Even so, I still can’t believe it.

  I sit in the very front pew of the chapel in my black dress. My head bows, my hair forming a veil over my tear-stained cheeks, my hands clasped together on my lap. If I lift my head even just slightly, I’ll see the white and gold coffin just a few feet away from me. So I don’t. I don’t lift my head.

  I don’t want to look at it. I don’t want to imagine her lying there, never to wake from her slumber. I don’t want to be reminded of the fact that she’s gone.

  How do I live on when the person who gave me life and taught me how to live is now gone?

  As I stare at her picture, a picture from back when she was young and healthy and full of life, another tear rolls down my cheek.

  I remember her standing in the kitchen in her floral apron, stirring garlic sauce in a pot. I remember the smell of her warm, flavorful cooking, which always tasted just as good, if not better, than it smelled. I remember the sound of her voice when she told me bedtime stories, when she sang nursery rhymes. I remember how she used to braid my hair and wipe the stains off my clothes. I remember the feel of her arms wrapped around me.

  I remember how she was, and that is how I want to remember her.

  I wipe away the tears with my handkerchief, not knowing how many I’ve used in the past few days. All I do is cry now. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I feel so empty.

  But what happens when the tears run out?

  I’m afraid I won’t feel anything anymore. The tears stop, but the heart, like a barren desert, cracks with no one hearing or knowing.

  The pastor in front of me keeps talking from behind his podium but I hear none of his words. None of them matter. There are no words to describe how I feel or offer me any measure of comfort.

  Sorry. Condolences.

  Those words that I’ve heard over and over don’t mean anything. They’re said for the benefit of the speaker alone.

  My eyes tilt as Dash settles alongside me, spreading his hand over mine. He wears a somber black suit, and Brandon sleeps against his chest. Dash says nothing. He doesn’t even look at me. And yet I feel less alone.

  I turn my palm over, squeezing his hand.

  He and Brandon are all I have left now.

  After the ceremony, he holds my hand as we walk to the cemete
ry nearby, still saying nothing. Mom’s coffin is lowered into the ground as Dash places his arm around me.

  I lean against him for support, not trusting my knees to sustain me as the tears spill again.

  Her casket descends deep below us, and I allow my knees to give way. I whisper, “Goodbye, Mom.”

  As the coffin disappears under piles of dirt, Dash grabs my hand and puts his arm around me once more, ushering me towards the car.

  On the way, I drop my handkerchief, emblazoned with the Siegel family crest. It tears off across the lawn, blown by a harsh autumn breeze. I lunge after it without thinking, bending over to pick it up a few feet from Dash and Brandon.

  I pause. A blonde woman stands in the distance. She wears all black and large sunglasses, peering from behind a tree.

  That’s… Marissa.

  “Hey, baby.” Dash comes to my side. “What you looking at?”

  “Um—” I stretch a finger toward Marissa and then freeze. She’s gone. “Nothing,” I tell Dash, my gaze still on that distant tree. “I thought I saw something.”

  * * *

  I push Brandon’s stroller through the backyard amid falling leaves and Anna’s Halloween decorations, some of which I find a bit too gruesome. Dash quickly reaches up into the tree branches and pulls down a doll dressed in blood-tainted, flimsy white robes with a long, black wig.

  Thankfully, Brandon hasn’t seen it. He’s still busy gnawing on the cheese, spinach, and potato frittata in his stroller.

  “I don’t understand why your mother is decorating the whole house for Halloween,” I tell Dash as we push the stroller down a paved garden path. “She didn’t do this last year, did she?”

  Dash slips his hands into his jacket pockets, shrugging. “It’s Brandon’s first Halloween. She wants it to be fun.”

  “He’s nine months old. He won’t remember any of this.”

  He hesitates. “And she was hoping to cheer you up.”

  “By surrounding me with ghosts, monsters, spiders, and tombstones?” I shake my head. “Your mother is a genius.”

  Dash stops walking and so do I, parking the stroller beside a bench.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell him, looking at my hands. “I didn’t mean that.”

  “I know.” He takes a step forward, standing beside me. “I know that you’re upset about your mom and that’s understandable. I know how much it hurts, Janine. I lost a parent, too.”

  “I know.”

  At least he still has his mother.

  “And I lost a lot of friends when I was out there fighting,” he adds. “I didn’t just lose them. They died in front of me.”

  I look at him. I knew something like that must have happened on the battlefield. He’s never spoken of it, though.

  “I’m sorry.” I reach for his hand.

  He squeezes mine. “I know you saw your mother die slowly in front of your eyes, and I know that she’s gone now. But at least she’s at peace now. She had no regrets.”

  “Did she tell you that?”

  “You fulfilled her last wish, Janine,” he reminds me.

  I sigh, placing a hand over my scarf.

  “You did everything you could to make her last months, weeks, and days enjoyable. We didn’t even go on our honeymoon, baby.” He holds my other hand too. “You lived for your Mom and… when you’re ready… you have to try to live for yourself again.”

  “I don’t know if I can, now that she’s gone,” I whisper, looking at both of my hands in his.

  “She’s not gone,” he tells me softly. “She lives in your heart now, and she’ll be there forever.”

  I touch my locket, running my fingers over it. My lips begin to tremble, so I press them together.

  Dash touches my chin. “She wanted you to carry on.”

  I nod, new sprung tears brimming in my eyes. It hurts so badly, but I’m relieved that Dash is here.

  I hear a sudden laugh behind me and turn my head, finding my little boy smacking at a dried leaf on the tray in his stroller. Seconds later, another breeze pulls across the cemetery, and another leaf spirals down from overhead. Brandon stops laughing to watch it, blue eyes wide with wonder. It swirls around in the wind then settles on his head.

  Brandon bursts out laughing, and the brown leaf falls in his lap. And he laughs some more, delighted.

  I wipe away my tears, chuckling as I kneel in front of him.

  “You like autumn leaves, huh?” I grab the leaf that fell into his lap and let it fall again, getting the same reaction. In spite of how I feel right now, I smile. “I like them too.”

  As I look at Brandon’s face, my chest, so heavy, suddenly lightens just a little. I feel like a drowning woman who has broken through to the surface for one second, one breath of fresh air… but it’s enough. It lets me know that breathing again is possible.

  Maybe Dash is right. Life goes on. The seasons change. The years pass. The circle of life goes on, beginning and ending.

  Looking at my son, I know I have so much to live for.

  Dash puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. I look up at him and my smile is only half-forced now.

  I stand up, placing my arms around him and pressing my cheek to his chest. We look down at our son together and Dash’s arms lock around me, swaying me gently alongside the stroller.

  Chapter 22

  Janine

  January 2019

  “Happy birthday Brandon! Happy birthday to you!”

  As the crowd finishes singing, I pick up Brandon, leaning forward so that he can reach the candles on his three-tiered, multi-colored, space-themed cake.

  He still doesn’t know how to blow, though, so I end up blowing out the single “rocket” candle for him. Cameras flash away, and the crowd erupts into loud applause.

  “Happy birthday, darling,” I say, kissing his little, chubby cheek.

  “Not bad.” Dash pats me on the back. “Not the best blowjob you’ve ever given, but not bad.”

  I scoff and my cheeks get rosy with blush. “Dash!”

  “I’m just messing with you. All your blowjobs are amazing.” He kisses my temple as he places his arm around me.

  “You should have been the one to blow that candle out.”

  “Eh, next year.” Dash collects Brandon from my arms. “Come on, little man! I have a few people I want to introduce you to.”

  I watch him leave the table, swallowed up by the crowd in seconds.

  A few people, huh? Yeah, right.

  After filling my plate with food – grilled shrimp, pork dumplings, stuffed chicken wings, mashed potato balls, a salad of greens and a cupcake from Dessert Fantasies – I sneak away into the pool house to eat, munching as I watch Dash and the guests from the gaps in the blinds.

  I only wanted a simple birthday party – just Brandon in new clothes, me, Dash, his mother, Billy (if he could be persuaded to come), a small cake and one present, preferably an educational toy.

  But no. Dash’s mother wanted to have a caboodle. Of course, she did. Does she do parties any other way?

  She ordered a three-tiered cake, balloons, flowers, bubbles, a clown, a pony rental, and full catering. She invited her friends, too, of course – roughly fifty of them.

  Just like at the wedding, I let it go. I know this is one of the ways she’s dealing with the loss of her husband, although it’s hard to believe she’s grieving when she looks ecstatic right now.

  I watch as she whisks Brandon out of Dash’s arms and gushes over him. Right now, she’s wearing a lavender dress with ruffles that makes her look like a classy flamenco dancer and, of course, another string of diamonds.

  I know she means well. And I’m trying to understand her. I really am. But I know one of these days, I’m going to have to stand up to her and tell her I’m the one who needs to run my life and, just as important, my son’s life.

  Maybe when Dash and I finally have a house of our own, a talk won’t be necessary.

  I finish eating, smiling in approval of the food �
�� at least Anna has good taste in food – but frowning when I realize I didn’t get anything to drink. I come out of hiding and quickly sneak inside the house, heading for the kitchen.

  Here, I hand my plate to a maid and grab a can of soda from the fridge, drinking it against the kitchen counter. I’d like to stay here, too, but Dash is probably looking for me. I head back outside, pausing when I see Billy beside the present table in the hallway, trying to find space for the big blue and silver box in his arms.

  At least, I think it’s Billy. I pause to stare at him, soda can in hand.

  I’ve only seen him twice – at the bar where I first met Dash and during that meeting where they made Dash CEO and I threw up in front of every shareholder – but I recognize the hair, the same color as Dash’s but neater. I recognize that little frown of his too. He looks better, though, in his royal blue collared shirt and khaki pants. It seems like he’s gained weight and his skin has more color.

  Medical school must suit him.

  I take a deep breath before approaching him.

  “Billy, I’m so glad you could come.”

  “Janine,” he greets as he turns towards me. “I would have come sooner but one of my professors sent me an email and—”

  “It’s fine, Billy,” I assure him. “I’m glad you’re here now.” I set down my soda on a shelf and stretch my arms out to him. “Here. Let me help you find somewhere to put that present.”

  He hands the box to me. “Thanks.”

  I look over the table, frowning when I can’t find some space myself.

  “Wow. Your mother’s friends sure like to give big presents.”

  “They do,” Billy agrees.

  I try to put the box on top of another only to take it off again as I realize something could get broken inside. “I don’t remember my first birthday but I don’t think I got this many presents.”

  “Neither did I.”

  “Oh, well. Let’s just put this down here.” I kneel down to put the box on the floor under the table. “I hope you don’t mind.”