The Alpha's Second Chance

by Jillian Riley

  Or the bathroom floor, the couch in the TV room, under the lemon tree … or any of the dozens of places in his house.

  “So, do you want a glass of wine before you get sent to prison?”

  “I would. The stuff they have in jail is just awful.”

  He was standing right in front of the wine cabinet and I had to reach around him to get the glasses. My body touched his and I instantly remembered how good he felt inside of me. In all the years since we’d broken up, no one had ever made me come as hard or as often as Shawn Ryan. The man spoiled me for life.

  I handed him a glass of wine and then held mine up. “What should we toast to?”

  He looked me in the eyes and simply said, “Coming home.”

  After one sip of the wine, he took my glass from me and set it on the counter. Dipping his head down, he took my face in his hands.

  “Lauren …” he said.

  “Shawn …” I said.

  He leaned in and kissed me tenderly, and then he pulled back and searched my eyes, looking for permission. My mind started spinning with thoughts. Should I stop him? Was it a mistake? Was he the same self-absorbed jerk who’d broken my heart before?

  The second time he kissed me, all thoughts and doubts faded away. My instincts were telling me to listen to my heart. It was clear that he’d changed. And that I’d changed, too. If something happened, we could talk it out as adults, not temperamental college students.

  The next thing I knew, all thoughts stopped and we became a tangle of lips and tongues and hands. I wanted to make love to him, but not here in the kitchen. I wanted him in bed.

  Taking his hand, I pulled him toward my bedroom. I hoped he wouldn’t mind the Hannah Montana poster or my Zac Efron pillow. We were adults now.

  I had no need to worry, because he only had eyes for me as we walked into my room.

  As soon as we walked into my room, he took me by the waist, and pulled me up against his strong, hard body. “I need to tell you something.”

  “What?” I asked, looking into his eyes.

  “I love you, Lauren,” he said softly. “Even though we’ve been apart for so long, I knew it the moment I saw you. I realized that I never stopped.”

  I wanted to say it too, but couldn’t get the words out. Shawn covered my mouth with a deep kiss. When we were younger, our need for each other had been insistent, urgent, and impatient.

  But now Shawn was so careful and almost reverent as he pulled my night shirt over my head. He leaned in to kiss me again, his mouth hungry and his palms were hot and rough against my nipples. His gentle kneading sent zaps of pleasure to the place in my thighs.

  “Shawn,” she breathed. “I need you.”

  “I’m right here, Lauren. You have me.”

  He moved us toward the bed, lowering me down gently so that I lay on my back. His fingers fumbled at the drawstring on my pajama pants and he gently pulled them off, taking my panties with them.

  Shawn leaned back and sighed while gazing down at me. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered before covering my mouth with his again.

  I reached for him, grabbing needy handfuls of his hair and pushing my hand under the Captain America t-shirt, which I immediately yanked over his head. He caught my wrists, still trapped in the soft fabric, and pinned them over my head. I struggled against him for a moment, but he distracted me by making a trail of kisses from my mouth to my breasts.

  When his mouth closed around one of my nipples, I moaned and arched off the bed. No other man had been with me in this bed.

  And Shawn’s mouth sucking and nibbling at my sensitive nipples reminded me of why I hadn’t been happy with anyone else. Shawn was my first, and his hands and mouth reawakened that desire in a way no other man could. I writhed and twisted under his attention, and when his hand finally found its way between my thighs, I cried out.

  “Please, Shawn. Please,” I begged as his fingertips slipped over my tight bud.

  “Shhh …” he quieted as he pulled away, and stood at the edge of the bed to take off his jeans. He made quick work of it, but my eyes still roamed every beautiful inch of his bared skin. He was even more beautiful than I remembered.

  Instead of climbing on top of me, he dropped to his knees and covered my achingly empty core with his mouth. His tongue lathed my clit and opening with each broad lick, and and soon I was spiraling toward an intense orgasm.

  “Inside of me. I want you inside of me when I come.” I was panting now.

  Shawn crawled across the bed and settled himself in the cradle of my thighs. I kissed him, and tasting myself on his lips made my need spike. I rolled my hips against him until the tip of his cock was positioned at my entrance.

  “Please, please, please,” I begged again until he finally slid inside of me.

  “Oh, God, Lauren,” he murmured against my shoulder as he pressed into me slowly, gently, and carefully.

  He moved with slow, shallow thrusts until I began to meet each thrust. Then he stopped being careful and gentle. He hooked his hand under my knee and pushed my hips wider as he plunged deep, over and over again until I tightened around him, squeezing, triggering a release that made me more slippery and heightened all of the nerve endings inside my body.

  “I’m coming …” I moaned, but the words had barely left my mouth before it rolled through my body, clamping down on his cock so hard that he gritted his teeth and growled.

  Before I could catch my breath, he hooked my knees over his shoulders and pumped into me hard and fast. Soon, I felt the pleasure building again.

  “Come with me,” he whispered. “I want to feel you coming around me as I come.”

  His words worked like some kind of spell, and with panting breaths and strangled moans, we came together, our yells echoing into the night.

  My arm was numb as the birds outside the window started chirping. Shawn and I had fallen asleep in my twin bed, which was clearly not large enough for both of us. But I wasn’t going to move.

  He must have sensed me wake up, because his eyes fluttered open. “Hey. Good morning.”

  It was surreal, having him here in my room again. It was like the past ten years hadn’t happened and we were still young and in love and our whole futures were ahead of us.

  But we weren’t. I lived in Denver and he lived in Houston. We both had crazy travel schedules and didn’t even have enough time to get a dog, let alone be in a long distance relationship.

  What? Were we going to meet up in random hotel rooms in cities that we both happened to be in? Steal away for a weekend a few times a year?

  Or what else? I sell my business and move to Houston? If I were going to move anywhere it would be back here to help take care of my parents. But, then we’d still be long distance.

  No, as much as it pained me, I should just consider this a one time thing. Just a fling that was a reminder of the way things used to be.

  As he flipped me over onto my back and kissed me again, I thought, “Well. Maybe we can call it a two-time thing …”

  19

  Shawn: Friendly Advice

  It had taken all of my willpower as a man to leave Lauren this morning. But I needed to get home before my parents noticed I was gone. And I had that coffee with Chet.

  So, after another round (or two) of lovemaking, (including on top of the new kitchen table), I tore myself away from her and left.

  Mrs. Henson was on her front porch getting the paper when we opened the door. As I kissed Lauren goodbye, she just frowned at us and went back inside.

  “Some things never change, am I right?”

  It might have been my imagination, but Lauren seemed pretty quiet this morning. I, on the other hand, was in a great mood. I kept imagining all of the fun things she and I would do together. We were finally going to have the chance to do all of the stuff we’d dreamed of as kids. Travel. Shop. Have adventures.

  Sure, we lived in different states. But we lived in a time when distance didn’t matter. I’d learn to fly. Buy a plan
e. Whatever it took. I loved her, and was determined to find a way to make it work.

  “Okay, so I’ll call you after my coffee with Chet,” I said.

  She shook her head sadly and said, “Shawn, I don’t think …”

  I put my finger to her mouth. “Don’t overthink this. We will work it out.” I kissed her quickly on the mouth and then ran next door to my parents’ house like it was the locker room at halftime.

  Stretching as tall as I could, I felt along the top door jamb for the spare key my folks always kept above the front door.

  I chuckled to myself as I started to slip the key in the lock. “You still got it, Ryan.”

  Except for one thing. The key didn’t work. It wouldn’t go in the lock. After jiggling it and trying to get it in, I let out a frustrated sigh.

  “We changed the locks years ago, son.”

  I nearly jumped out of my shoes. “Dad! What are you doing here?”

  “I went to go get your mother some coffee and a bagel. The real question is …”

  “What am I doing here? Why am I not up in my room?” I felt a blush creep to my face.

  “Oh, no. I know exactly what you’re doing here and why you’re not in your room.” He nodded to the tree and I could see leaves and branches broken all over the ground. And my window was still open and my curtain was blowing outside.

  “Yeah.”

  “The real question is, are you going to be an idiot and let her go again?” My dad slipped his key into the lock and opened the front door. “You don’t get many second chances in life, son.”

  At exactly eight a.m., I pulled up to Starbucks in the RAV4. I wondered how much Chet had changed over the years. My guess would be, not much.

  I pushed the doors open and, as expected for this time of day, the place was packed. “Welcome to Starbucks.”

  Scanning the room for Chet’s red hair, I didn’t see him. Maybe he was late? I figured I’d get my coffee first and wait.

  As I waited in line, my mind wandered back to last night with Lauren. It was everything I’d hoped for, and really cemented the feelings I’d been having lately that my life was missing something. What was the point of having all this money and success if I was spending it alone in a huge house with only my employees to keep me company?

  This time with my parents and my sister and being here at home again just served to remind me that there’s a lot more to life than money and career goals.

  “Shawn Ryan. Hometown hero!”

  I turned around and had to look down to see who was speaking. It was a balding man wearing glasses and a plaid button up shirt. Wait. Was that …

  “Chet?”

  “Yes!” He laughed and said, “Yeah. I know I look a little different. I’m kind of dreading the reunion next summer, honestly.”

  “No, you look …” I trailed off so I wouldn’t have to lie.

  We got our drinks and sat down. After a few minutes of chitchat, I got down to business.

  “So this is kind of weird, but there’s a reason I wanted to have coffee with you, other than to catch up.”

  “I figured as much. What’s up?”

  “Well, I’m sure you saw the whole ESPN thing not too long ago. Or heard about it.”

  “Yeah. That must have been pretty embarrassing. All the guys at work were like, ‘You know that jerk?’”

  “Yeah.” I shook my head. “It was unfortunate. So anyway, they made me get some sensitivity training afterward.”

  Chet chuckled. “I can just see it now. A bunch of guys all sitting around singing Kumbaya.” He took a sip of his coffee.

  “Ha. It was better than that. I actually learned a lot. But we all left with a homework assignment. We were supposed to talk with some people from our past about hidden bias and things that I may not have seen about myself from before. So, I picked you.”

  “Wow. I’m honored.”

  “Well, we were best friends.”

  “That we were.”

  “And then at some point I changed?”

  He sat there for a moment, and it seemed like he was trying to decide how much to say. “Yeah. When we were kids you were this sweet, nice guy. Always had a kind word to say. But as soon as the football thing took off, you became … well …”

  “Kind of a dick?”

  “Yeah.” He winced a little. “Sorry.”

  I shook my head. “No, don’t be. I asked.”

  “Yeah. And once I starting dating Carol. Well. She didn’t like you much.”

  I remembered that, actually. “That’s why you didn’t invite me to the wedding.”

  “Yeah. I remembered the thing where we were going to be best men at each other’s weddings, but she put her foot down and said no.”

  I figured as much, and at the time, joked to my friends that he’d been pussy whipped. But now, looking back on it, I think he was right.

  “Can I give you some advice?” Chet asked.

  “Of course.”

  “Start looking for ‘the one.’ The best thing I ever did in life was marry Carol. My whole life improved once she came into it. Once you find ‘the one,’ you should never let her go.”

  We both sat there in silence for a moment and just honored the wisdom of that truth. I then pulled my phone out and composed a text to Pete.

  Pete. It’s Shawn.

  Give me a call as soon as you can. We need to talk.

  20

  Lauren: On One Condition

  “Nancy, this is incredible.” My dad was at the kitchen table eating a huge bowl of “Chuck’s Chili.”

  “I got it from that website Brand New Vegan,” my mom said proudly.

  It had been about a week since that night with Shawn. I’d picked my folks up from the hospital and brought them home. “To start my new lease on life,” my dad had said when they wheeled him to the car. Mark Guzman had made good on his promise to check on Dad before he was discharged. He even gave my parents a copy of the Forks Over Knives cookbook, which impressed the hell out of me.

  He didn’t ask me out again, which was a blessing. I might have been tempted, if the whole thing with Shawn hadn’t happened. But, then we’d still have the same problem, which is a guy who lived in a different state.

  Speaking of which, Shawn had been calling and texting me, but I was avoiding him. The night with him had been completely amazing, and I knew at some point I was going to need to tell him that things weren’t going to work out.

  “So, Baby Bear.” My dad wiped his mouth and took a swig of the non-alcoholic beer I’d gotten him. “Have you given any more thought to moving back home?” He grinned and wagged his bushy eyebrows at me. “We’d love to see you more often.”

  “Ted! Stop. You know full well that she has a busy life there in Denver.”

  “Honestly, Dad, I would do it in a heartbeat if I could. But, my company is headquartered in Denver. The only way I could move would be to …”

  I stopped mid-sentence.

  “Wait, what am I talking about? My clients already fly all over the world to get to these trainings. So do I.” I put my hands up to my face.

  “Here I am teaching people to look at things differently, and I never thought to do it myself. I never thought to challenge the assumption that I needed to live in Denver to run my company.”

  “So you’d consider moving home?”

  “On one condition.” I looked at my parents and the happy, expectant look on their faces told me I was making the right choice.

  “What’s that?”

  “That we get rid of the Hannah Montana and Zac Efron and redo my room.”

  “You don’t have to actually live in this house, you know.” My dad was laughing. “I meant home as a general term. Like in the city of Pasadena.”

  “Ted, you shush. I would love it if Lauren came home for a while.” she looked at me. “Just until your father gets back on his feet.”

  I grinned and took a big bite of chili. “As long as we can keep eating like this, it’s a deal.”<
br />
  It was time to talk to Shawn. I imagined he would be leaving for Houston pretty soon, if he hadn’t left already. His calls had slowed down, but since I’d made the decision to come back home, I didn’t feel as bad about talking to him.

  Did I wish things were different? Yeah. But I had no desire to live in Houston, especially when he traveled half the year for work. If I was going to give up my life in Denver, it was going to be so that I could have a better life here with my parents. Not to start over again in some town where the only guy I knew was on the road half the time.

  I went into my bedroom and pulled up one of his calls and hit “call back.”

  He answered on the second ring. “There you are! I’ve been calling and leaving messages for days!”

  “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. I just had a lot going on with getting my dad home from the hospital. Plus, we decided to become vegan, so …”

  “Whoa. Mr. Fourth of July Cookout is vegan?” Shawn sounded as surprised as I would have been had it been his dad.

  “Anyway, I think we need to talk. Are you still in California?”

  “Look outside your window.”

  My bedroom window was still cracked, but who was standing on my lawn but Shawn Ryan. I still had the phone to my ear. “What are you doing out there?”

  “Open your window.”

  “Shawn, this is serious. We need to talk.” I could see him standing there on my lawn with a big stupid grin on his face.

  “We will. After you open the window.”

  Fine. I walked over and opened the window.

  Without any warning, he hung up the phone, smiled, pointed his finger, he touched his phone, and I heard the familiar strains of Michael Buble’s Save the Last Dance for Me.

  That was our song in high school, and he was singing it at the top of his lungs. Badly. So loudly and badly, in fact, that people started coming out of their houses and slowing down on the street as they passed. “Isn’t that Shawn Ryan the quarterback?”