Second Chance Boyfriend (Drew + Fable)

by Monica Murphy

  An apology is a start in the positive direction. I might be fooling myself but I want to hear what he has to say. I need an explanation. “Okay. I’d love to hear an apology from you.”

  “Are you going to make me say it now?”

  “For the first one, yes.” I nod.

  “There’s going to be more than one?”

  I glance in his direction to see he’s teasing me. And it’s sort of cute, the way he’s looking at me, the smile on his face. “Definitely,” I say with another nod. “I want the first one now. Before we leave the truck.”

  He schools his expression, looking incredibly solemn and serious. “Fable. I’m sorry.” He lifts my hand and brushes a kiss across my knuckles.

  His mouth on my skin leaves me weak-kneed and I’m not even standing. The playful way he’s acting doesn’t help matters either. I need to remember he’s drunk. He’s not in the right state of mind.

  “Now, come inside with me. I won’t try anything, I promise.” He makes an X at the center of his chest with his index finger. “Scout’s honor.”

  “Were you really a scout?”

  “No.” He smiles. “But you can trust me.”

  I know I can. I both want him to give me space so I can absorb everything that’s happened tonight and I also want him all over me. I’m confused.

  This is what he does to me every time we’re together.

  We get out of the truck and I follow him across the parking lot without protest. Let him guide me to his front door without a word, though I can feel his presence behind me. I inhale sharply when he sets his hand low on my back to steer me in the right direction.

  He doesn’t remove his hand either until we get to the front door. Like he needs that connection.

  I need it too.

  When he unlocks the door, he indicates for me to walk in first and I enter his quiet, dark apartment. He flicks on a light, revealing a room devoid of anything beyond a couch, a matching chair and a flat-screen TV. There are no pictures, no knickknacks, no mess. Nothing beyond the basic essentials.

  The room lacks warmth. Like no one real lives here. It reminds me of the Drew I first met. That version felt nothing, acted like nothing affected him. He’d been an emotionless shell of a human being.

  I like to think I changed him in a matter of days. I taught him to feel. To open up and deal with his emotions, his wants and his needs. That my influence taught him it might be okay to be human again.

  Turning to face him, I study his expression. His eyes are bleary, his hair is mussed and his cheeks are pale. He looks tired and a little loopy. Yet again, I want to touch him. Touch his bristly cheek, trace his expressive mouth with my finger…

  “Do you want to talk?”

  His question startles me. He doesn’t look like he wants to talk. More like he probably wants to collapse in bed. “Do you?”

  “There are things I should say to you, yeah. But I’m drunk and I’ll probably mess it up somehow.” His voice is soft and he runs his palm across his cheek, doing the very thing I wanted to do only moments before.

  My hands literally itch to reach out and touch him.

  “Maybe we should sleep on it first.” I can’t face everything yet. My mind is working on overtime and I need to quiet it. Plus, I’m scared at what he might say. What if I don’t want to hear his explanations? What if he’s only being kind tonight and wants to let me down gently?

  But then I remember his jealousy over Colin. The way he looked at me. How he kissed me, how his arms felt around me.

  Drew still wants me. I know it. I still want him. Being with him tonight would most likely be a mistake. Am I strong enough to resist him?

  Is he strong enough to resist me? The pull between us is there, like an invisible thread that draws us closer and closer when we’re in the same room together.

  “Can I sleep on your couch?” I wave my hand in the couch’s direction. It’s big and looks comfortable enough.

  He shakes his head with a grimace. “No way. I’ll take the couch. You can have my bed.”

  Oh, God. I can’t take his bed. It’ll smell like him. My imagination will run wild the moment I touch the mattress, the second my head hits his pillow. It’s been too long since we’ve been together and having him so close, I want to launch myself at him and never, ever let go.

  “I’d rather have the couch.” My voice is shaky and I breathe deep, trying to control my emotions, but I’m ragged. Completely undone. A tear sneaks down my cheek and I sniff. I hate crying. I rarely do it.

  “Fable.” His deep voice is so low, it rumbles through me and I bend my head. I don’t want him to see my useless tears. “Look at me.”

  I shake my head. “No.”

  He slips his fingers beneath my chin and tilts my face up so I have no choice but to look at him. His gaze is dark as he wipes away a tear from my cheek with his thumb. “You’re crying.”

  I blink hard. “No, I’m not.”

  He strokes his thumb across my chin, his nail grazing the edge of my lower lip. “I hate that I’ve made you cry.”

  I close my eyes, the still-falling tears getting tangled up in my eyelashes. “I’m just… I don’t know how to handle this anymore. You. Us.”

  “I’m sorry.” He steps closer. I can feel his body heat burning into me. And then his mouth is at my forehead, his lips brushing my skin in a tentative kiss. “So sorry.” Another kiss at my temple. “I didn’t know what to say to you after I left. I was ashamed of everything that happened, everything you witnessed. You deserve better.” He kisses the tip of my nose.

  Without thought I sling my arms around him, anchoring myself. He’s big and warm and solid, and my heart eases at having him so close again. “I deserve you,” I whisper. “When will you realize that?”

  We’re quiet for long, agonizing minutes. My forehead is pressed against his chin, my arms loose around his waist. He slips his arm around me so his hand settles at my hip. His other hand is in my hair, smoothing it back, tangling his fingers in the long strands, and I sigh at his gentle touch.

  I never want this moment to end. I want to forget all our troubles and just focus on the two of us together.

  “I don’t deserve you,” he finally says. “You accept me so easily, no matter how hard I push you away. You need to know I don’t do it on purpose. It’s just…the only way I know how to deal is to run.”

  His honesty breaks my heart.

  “I’m learning, though, that running away doesn’t solve my problems.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m seeing someone. A psychologist. She’s helping me a lot.”

  I chance looking up at him and our gazes clash. He’s worried that somehow his admission might drive me away, I can tell. “That’s good. Did someone arrange that for you?” Had he told his father anything? Or was he still keeping all his secrets?

  “No, I sought her out myself. We’ve talked a lot about what happened. And about you.”

  “About me?” I’m shocked. After he left so easily, I figured he forgot all about me.

  “Definitely about you.” He trails his fingers down my cheek and I release a shuddering breath. “You have no idea how important you are to me, do you?”

  I slowly shake my head. “When you left, I figured we were finished. I thought you were over me.”

  “I could never be over you.” Drew clamps his lips shut. I wonder if he wants to say something else.

  I know I do. But I can’t. I’m not going to be as quick to reveal my emotions to him again. Not after everything we’ve been through. I’m too scared.

  So I go with an easy admission. One not too far from what he offered me. “I’m not over you either,” I whisper.

  Before I can say anything else, he yanks me closer and presses his mouth to mine. His lips are soft, damp and very, very persistent. I open for him easily, our tongues sliding against each other, his low moan fueling me on. Fueling us both on.

  Just like that, I’m lost.

  Drew

  Finally.
I’m kissing her again, tasting her, holding her in my arms. It feels so good, so fucking right, having Fable with me. In my apartment, back in my life. I don’t know what I did to deserve this gift but I refuse to screw it up again.

  I’m not letting her go. Ever. I need her too much. I love her too damn much.

  I wanted to tell her that too. I wrote the words in that final letter I left for her the last time we were together. Now, with her standing in front of me, my courage has evaporated. I’m scared she might reject me. At the very least, reject the words and the emotion behind them.

  Instead, I kiss her. I’d rather show her how I feel than tell her.

  “Take me to your room,” she whispers against my lips after she breaks the kiss first. “Take me to your bed, Drew.”

  Grabbing her ass, I lift her up and she wraps her legs around my waist, her arms around my neck. She weighs nothing, her soft, curvy body fits against mine perfectly as I carry her toward my bedroom, all the while she’s kissing and licking my neck. Making me so hard I don’t know how I’m going to stand the torture of not being inside her another second.

  Damn it, I want to make this last. I want to take my time with her and go slow. Being with her again is like my every dream come true and I want to savor it.

  But she’s squirming against me, her hot breath against my neck making me shiver, and I know this is going to happen way too fast.

  We fall onto the bed together and I’m careful not to land on her since she’s so little. And perfect. Amazingly perfect as I pull away and study her from head to toe. Her long hair spills across my pillow, her chest rising and falling quickly. The lace top does little to hide the black satin bra she’s wearing and I can see the creamy skin of her flat stomach.

  I desperately want to kiss and lick her there.

  The little black shorts she’s wearing only emphasize the dip of her waist, the curve of her hips, the length of her legs. I lift up on my knees so I can see her more fully. She opens her eyes, the smile curving her lush lips full-on seduction. It’s working. Fable can seduce me with one glance, one word, one touch.

  “What are you waiting for?” She reaches toward me, hooks her finger around the belt loop of my jeans and tugs, but I resist.

  “I’m looking at you first.”

  Her cheeks turn the faintest shade of pink. “You can look all you want later. I need you, Drew. Please.”

  “What you’re wearing…” I shake my head. “It’s killing me.”

  She laughs. “You should see the other outfits I have to wear as my uniform for work. You’ll hate them all if you don’t like this one.”

  Jealousy flares within me and I tamp it down. “As long as the customers don’t touch you, I don’t have a problem.”

  Her laughter dies. “Are you jealous?”

  “When it comes to you? Always.” I slip my hand beneath the lace top, trace my fingers along her stomach. She sucks in a breath, her skin quivering beneath my touch, and I surge my hand up, until I’m playing with the clasp at the front of her bra. “You’re mine. You know that, right?”

  She nods slowly, her gaze never leaving mine. “I—I wasn’t sure. After what happened between us. I always wanted to be yours but you left me.”

  I close my eyes for the briefest moment, angry for making this beautiful, perfect girl doubt herself for even a second. “I’ve hurt you and I hate that. I’m going to make it up to you, Fable. I swear it.”

  The snap on her bra springs open with ease and I’m eager to get everything off of her. I want to see her naked, see if she’s as beautiful as I remember, and she laughs again when I tug impatiently on her clothes, trying my best to help her but really just making a mess of it. She slaps my hands away and slowly takes everything off, until I’m left with my mouth dry and my body hard when she’s completely naked.

  Fuck me, she’s even more gorgeous than I remember. It’s dark, I can hardly see a thing so I lean over to the window above my bed and yank on the cord that cracks the blinds open. The fog is thin outside, letting the moon’s light shine inside, casting Fable in a silvery glow, though the room is still mostly shrouded in darkness. My gaze sweeps over her, lingering on all the important, pretty bits.

  “Like what you see?” She spreads her legs like a temptress intent on driving me crazy and I swallow hard.

  “Yeah,” I croak.

  Fable sits up in front of me, her breasts swaying with the movement, her dusky pink nipples hard and earning my undivided attention. She settles her hands on my cheeks and draws me close, her lips brushing against mine in the softest kiss. Again and again, she kisses me like this and I reach for her, cupping her breasts in my palms, stroking her nipples with my thumbs.

  She arches into my touch, our kisses growing more frantic, hungrier, and then I’m consuming her, my hand slipping lower, settling between her legs. She’s wet, so fucking wet for me, and I groan against her mouth.

  I need inside her now.

  Leaping from the bed, I shed my clothes, aware Fable’s watching my every move. I open the drawer of my bedside table and pull out a condom. Condoms purchased in anticipation of Fable and me being together again someday. Hell, at least I was always hopeful.

  I tear open the wrapper and roll the condom on, not about to waste another second. I want inside her so bad, I feel like I’m going to burst.

  A wistful sigh escapes her and I turn to find her blatantly checking me out. “What’s wrong?”

  Fable jerks her gaze up to meet mine, her expression slightly embarrassed. “You have the most beautiful body ever. You know that, right?”

  No, but she makes me feel like I do with just a look. A few casually spoken words. “Are you trying to embarrass me?”

  She shakes her head with a smile. “That you’re embarrassed makes you even cuter. And sexier. You’re built like some sort of god, Drew Callahan. If we weren’t in such a rush, I’d spend hours exploring your perfect body.”

  “Really?” I climb back onto the bed and over her. We’re face to face, our bodies perfectly aligned. “That sounds promising.”

  “Oh, yeah.” She nods, settles her hand at the center of my chest, her fingers drifting down. Gooseflesh rises with her touch. “You’d love every second of it.”

  “I would?” I thrust my hips against her, nice and slow. Probably a huge mistake considering how close I am to coming already.

  “Mmm-hmmm.” She arches beneath me like a cat, brushing against the very tip of me, and I swear, she does that one more time, I’m done for. “I’d use my hands and my fingers and my mouth and my tongue. Until you’d finally beg me to stop and put you out of your misery.”

  I groan at her words. “I’m already in a world of agony.”

  “Then let me help you with that.” She reaches for me, her fingers curling around my cock and guiding me toward her. I slowly sink inside her, her wet heat bathing me until I’m nestled deep, and I hold myself there as steady as I can, savoring the sensation of her body accepting mine so easily. So beautifully.

  “I’ve missed you,” I whisper against her lips before I kiss her. “So damn much.”

  “I’ve missed you too.” Her voice is shaky, her entire body is trembling and I slowly withdraw from her, pulling almost all the way out before I sink back inside.

  We both groan at the sensation and continue the torturous slow movements for long, deliciously agonizing minutes. Over and over, I thrust in, pull almost all the way out before I sink back inside again. Being with her again feels amazing. Already the tingling at the base of my spine is starting. I’m going to come and it’s going to be a big one, but I need to make sure Fable’s along with me for the ride.

  “Fable.” I whisper her name in her ear, my thrusts coming harder. It’s as if I have no control over my body whatsoever. I’m consumed with the need to come. And to make her come, too. “Are you close?” I reach between us and touch her between her legs, her little whimper telling me I hit the right spot. “Please tell me you’re close.”

&
nbsp; “So, so close. Oh my God, Drew. Please…”

  Holy hell, she is so hot like this. All needy and desperate. She’s literally clawing at me and I rear up on my knees, grasp her by her waist so I can push deep inside her. She’s getting louder, sexy little murmurings I can barely understand, and when I hit a spot within her that’s particularly deep, she comes completely apart beneath me. Her body is racked with shudders, her head thrown back as she convulses all around me.

  Sending me straight into my own spectacular orgasm that nearly leaves me blind. I collapse on top of her, my body still shaking, the aftereffects of my orgasm lingering for long, miraculous minutes, and she wraps her arms around me, holding me close, running her hands up and down my back. Soothing me, arousing me all over again.

  “You’re crushing me,” she finally says, her voice muffled against my chest, and I move off of her with a quick apology, getting up so I can toss the condom in the trash before I slide back beneath the covers and pull her back into my arms.

  Now that I have her back in my life, it’s going to be near impossible to let her out of my sight again. Which is ridiculous and unrealistic, but hell. I lost sight of her—and myself—already. And almost lost her.

  I can’t risk it again.

  “I know we should talk but I’m too tired,” she says with a yawn. “Can we talk tomorrow?”

  “Yeah.” I keep my arm around her slender shoulders and press a kiss to her forehead. I’m tired too. Sated. Satisfied. Sex makes me nervous, it always has. My past haunts me and renders the act forbidden. Shameful. Usually, I’d rather avoid it. Avoid women in general since they always want something from me I can’t give.

  Not with Fable, though. Never with Fable. Being with her so intimately feels right. Perfect. I like getting naked with her, both physically and emotionally. Laying myself bare, showing her everything I have, everything I am, I’m not afraid when I’m with her.

  It’s liberating. Freeing.

  Like a little miracle.