Second Chance Summer
Second Chance Summer (Chance #1)(40)
Author: Emma Hart
His hands moved beneath my shirt, and the feel of his bare skin against mine was too much. I groaned into his mouth. He pushed me against the wall. The cold, gritty surface contradicted the heat spreading through me, through both of us.
His lips blazed a trail of kisses down my neck and across my collarbone as I tilted my head to the side. I fanned my fingers out in his hair, breathing deeply as he dropped kisses along the swell of my chest.
“Kia,” he whispered against my skin, pushing my shirt up. He slid it over my head, taking his off after. His perfectly formed body was an afterthought as I watched him rake my body with his eyes. One look was all it took from it. It’s all it ever took. He always could make me feel beautiful with a mere glance. I blushed under his scrutiny, and his fingers brushed down my sides, following the curve of my waist.
“Beautiful,” he raised his eyes, gripping my waist. He moved me over to the bed. He kissed me again, his tongue mingling with mine, and we fell backward onto the soft surface.
My knees bent upwards, my feet hooking round his waist and holding him against me. The material between our lower bodies felt like a barrier as he massaged my skin softly, making sure to touch every bit of my skin. I wanted all of him, nothing separating us. Even then, I knew it was goodbye.
I rubbed my hands down his back, and he peppered kisses to my shoulder. His hands eased into my jeans and tugged them down. His eyes fixed on my silky thong as the denim peeled away from my legs. My breath caught deep in my throat as he touched me lightly.
He teased the material, rubbing me through it. A moan escaped my lips and I heard him breathing heavily. My hips bucked toward him slightly.
“Reese,” his name was a breathless whisper, a desperate plea tinged with the heartbreak of the future.
“Oh, f**k,” he groaned out. He hooked his fingers in my thong, yanking them down my body. He stepped out of his jeans, taking his boxers down with them. I blinked as he rolled the condom on, leaning back into me.
My legs opened to him as he settled between me.
“Reese,” I whispered, holding my breath again. I felt like I was going to explode if he didn’t give me what I wanted, I needed.
“I love it when you say my name like that.” He nipped my earlobe and pressed into me.
Pain seared through me but I tried to relax. I didn’t care how painful it would be. I needed him.
“Kia?” He pulled his head back, my name a question on his lips.
“Don’t stop,” I whispered, pushing my face into his neck. “Please.”
He exhaled in a long breath. “Okay.”
In, out, in, out. The pain subsided and pleasure took over as he worked my body gently. Sweat stuck our bodies together. My nails gripped his back. Kisses were hot and passionate, hello and goodbye mixed in… Because a part of me already knew I’d be gone before morning fell.
Bittersweet. That really is the only way to describe that night. Even if I can’t think of it without blushing.
I press my palms against my cheeks as I glance down at the sofa. Yep. My cheeks are burning. The light flicks on.
“I’m not complaining at you being here, but – hey, are you blushin’?” Reese grins, pushing the door shut behind him.
“No. Why would I be?” I answer hurriedly, blood flushing my cheeks all over again at the sight of him. Even grimy and oily from work, he looks good. Damn good.
“You tell me, baby.” He kicks his shoes off and approaches me, touching my chin lightly with his fingertip.
“I was, um, thinking about last summer.”
“Oh yeah?” His grin turns predatory. “Anything… In particular?”
I understand the question he’s asking, and his hot breath makes me go weak at the knees. Goddamn, he’s a good distraction from everything.
“Perhaps,” I say evasively and wrinkle my nose. “You smell.”
Reese laughs. “Way to welcome me home from work.”
“Well, it’s true.” I step back and drop my hands from my now-normal cheeks. “You need a shower.”
“You can keep me company if you like. It’s a big shower.”
“Reese.”
“Hey, I meant you could sit on the toilet and talk to me or something.”
“I’m not watchin’ you shower.”
“Why not?”
Because after that memory, I’m likely to jump you.
“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” he reminds me.
“That’s the problem,” I mutter under my breath.
Reese catches it and chuckles. His hands suddenly thread through my hair and his lips mold themselves to mine. I grip the front of his shirt to stop myself staggering backward as his mouth moves hotly against mine and his tongue teases the seam of my lips.
He pulls away as suddenly as he kissed me, leaving me panting slightly. He glances at me over his shoulder as he walks casually to the bathroom just off the den.
“I know exactly what part of last summer you were thinkin’ about,” he says in a deeper voice, his twang pulling any remaining air from my body. His darkened eyes flit down my body and back up again. “And if you’re thinkin’ about that, then I’m not doin’ good enough right now, am I?”
I don’t say a thing. I’m still trying to catch my breath. He sure knows how to give the word “breathless” a whole new meaning.
He raises an eyebrow. “We’ll work on that.”
“We will?” I squeak out.
“We will.”
~
I slide out from Reese’s arms, careful not to wake him, and dress quickly. I silently open the door to the den and tiptoe up the stairs. The only light guiding me is the moonlight coming through the window, and I use that to navigate my way to the back door even though I don’t need to. I know this house like the back of my hand.
The night in Alabama is much cooler than the day, and I sigh happily as a cool breeze circulates me. Grass tickles between my toes as I walk toward the lake, admiring the reflection of the moon and the way it glistens across it. Owls hoot above me in the trees, and crickets chirp all around. I’ve been to this lake a thousand times at night, but never has it been like this. Never has it felt so peaceful, so serene.
I lower myself to the ground, looking out across the water. The stillness of it is the complete opposite to the frantic rambling of thoughts in my head – thoughts I have yet to make sense of…
Pregnant. Dad’s girlfriend is pregnant. Nineteen years after having me, he’s doing it all again. Why? That’s crazy. Who would want to be forty-something and changing diapers? Unless of course, the diapers you’re changing belong to your grandchildren, then that’s different. But this isn’t. Dad has another twenty years of a kid putting dirty handprints on the wall, slamming doors and generally raising hell.