Second Chance Boyfriend
Page 11

“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 br**sts swaying with the movement, her dusky pink ni**les 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 br**sts in my palms, stroking her ni**les 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 f**king 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 h*ps 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 c**k 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.”
“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 na**d 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.
Chapter Eight
I’d do anything to be your everything. – Drew…or Fable?
Fable
I think I have finally stepped into that fairy tale I always wanted to live in, ever since I was a little girl. I’m living it, right at this very moment, getting dressed and ready for a lazy Sunday with Drew.
He gently wakes me up by kissing me all over my face. Soft little kisses that make me giggle since his lips tickle my skin. When he slips his hands between us and starts tickling my stomach I laugh harder, our legs tangling up together, our na**d bodies brushing against each other. Which in turn leads to us having slow, delicious morning sex.
But before the slow, delicious morning sex, I searched his body as promised. Mapping it with my lips and my tongue and my hands and my fingers. Imagine my surprise when I discovered a tattoo on his ribcage, written in elegant script. It’s a paragraph, more like a string of words in a poem. I trace each word with my finger, trying to decipher their meaning.
For a passion that’s
Able to shine like ours
Blessed are we to
Love
Each other
I’m in shock that clean-cut All-American Boy Drew Callahan has a tattoo. And that he got it after we were together.
“What does it mean?” I ask him, slowing skimming the words, each individual letter with my index finger.
He seems surprised by my question. “Read it again,” he says quietly. “Slowly.”
I do so, realizing that the first letter of every sentence spells my name. Reminding me of the marshmallow note he left for me. I’m shocked. Overwhelmed. Touched so deep, tears form in my eyes, and he kisses them away as they fall onto my cheeks. “I wrote those words for you,” he murmurs against my mouth before he kisses my lips. “You’ve turned me into a poet, Fable.”
God, he’s so sweetly romantic I want to lose myself in him forever.
We take a shower together and that eventually leads to more delicious sex, leaving me so spent afterward, my legs are like wobbly noodles when we finally climb out of the shower. He towel dries me, his fingers sliding between my still-wet legs, and he brings me to another earth-shattering orgasm.
Together, we’re absolutely ridiculous. We can’t keep our hands off of each other. And I love it.
I love him.
I put back on my shorts from last night but it’s too cold to wear the stupid lacy top so Drew lets me borrow an old sweatshirt. I pull it on, laughing when it stops just above my knees. I know I look stupid but he says I look cute and then he sweeps me up into his arms and kisses me. Again. Thoroughly.
So thoroughly I finally have to smack his chest and tell him I need to get home so I can check on my brother before we get carried away again.
The disappointment on his face is clear but he respects my wishes and we take off to my crappy apartment. The closer we get, the more nervous I become. What if my mom is home? No way do I want her to meet Drew. Not yet, anyway, because if this is going to continue between us, then eventually they’ll have to meet. It’s just a reality I don’t want to face.
My mom is so incredibly embarrassing, with her drunken, trashy ways, how she flat-out doesn’t care about anything or anyone but herself. He thinks his family’s all f**ked up—well, they are, let’s not fake ourselves out here—but my mom is no prize either.
What’s scary is that I’m constantly afraid I could turn into her. It would be so easy. We’re a lot alike, as much as I hate to admit it.
When we pull into my apartment complex parking lot, I notice my mom’s car isn’t there, thank goodness. The relief that floods me is palpable and I immediately feel lighter. Drew comes with me to my apartment, even though I tell him he can go ahead and leave since I have to work late. But he insists on walking me to my door like some sort of gentlemen.
I think he’s afraid to let me go, truthfully. And I feel the same way.
Pulling my key ring out of my purse, I go to unlock the door, when it swings open, startling me so much I drop my keys. Owen’s standing there, clad in sweatpants and an old T-shirt, his hair an absolute mess. He throws himself at me, his arms so tight around my middle, I can hardly breathe.
“Where have you been?” he asks, giving me a shake when he withdraws from me. “I’ve been worried sick!”
“I thought you were at your friend’s house.” His outburst surprises me. Talk about a role reversal. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen him so worked up.
“I’ve been home alone all night. Mom’s over at Larry’s house. She thought you were coming home. So did I. I tried to text you and call you but you never answered.”
Crap. “My phone must’ve died.” I bend to grab my keys. The excuse sounds weak but it’s the truth.
Owen glances over my shoulder, his gaze alighting on Drew. “Who the hell is this?”
Jeez, why does he sound so hostile? The look he’s sending Drew could kill, it’s so intense.
“Um…” I don’t know how to answer. This is awkward. I didn’t expect my brother to be here to greet us.
“Wait a minute.” Owen steps around me so he can stand directly in front of Drew, who towers over him. “You’re Drew Callahan, aren’t you?”
Oh, shit. I didn’t expect my brother to recognize him, but Drew is one of the star players on the college team. They have some minor celebrity status here in town.
“I am.” Drew’s smile is easygoing and full of warmth. “You must be Owen.”
“Yep. And you’re the as**ole who broke my sister’s heart.” Without warning, Owen rears back his arm and punches Drew right in the chin.
And sends him sprawling to the ground.
“Oh my God!” I grab at Drew’s shoulders but he’s already picking himself back up, his expression full of disbelief. Thank God, he doesn’t appear angry. More like stunned.
I’m stunned too.
“What the hell was that for?” I ask Owen, who’s rubbing his knuckles as if they hurt.
Little shit. They probably do. He deserves the pain for pulling a stunt like that.
“He’s the reason you’ve been so miserable these last few months. I can’t freaking believe it. You went out with Drew Callahan?” Owen points a finger at Drew. “When the hell did this happen?”
“Watch your language!” It’s the only thing I can think of to say. I don’t know how to answer him. I certainly don’t want to confess exactly how Drew and I came together in the first place. It sounds so sleazy.
“If you snuck around and saw him, I don’t know why. He’s a big deal, Fable. Huge.” Owen shakes his head. “I’m so stupid. I can’t believe I didn’t put it together, what with his initials on your foot.”
“What does he mean, my initials on your foot?” Drew’s gaze drops to my feet. I’m wearing my black heels from last night, and the tattoo is obvious in the daylight. Hell, it was obvious last night and earlier this morning, but I don’t think he was paying much attention to me past my thighs.
The simple little outline of a heart sits high on the top of my left foot, the letters D and C are stacked on top of each other in the middle. My homage to Drew and the week we spent together. The love I have for him. I got the tattoo in a fit of irrationality. I wanted to prove to him that I loved him enough to have him permanently etched into my skin.
And he never showed back up. A foolish wish for my foolish heart, I guess.
This was so not the way I wanted him to find out about the tattoo. Besides, compared to the beautiful poem he wrote for me, my tattoo seems sort of trite. Meaningless.
“She got it right after Thanksgiving,” Owen explains, glaring daggers at Drew. “She wouldn’t explain what the DC stood for either. Claimed it was for her favorite city but I knew she was full of absolute shit. I mean, come on. She’s never even left California. Sorry, Fabes,” he adds when he notices I’m ready to chew him out for the curse.