A Second Chance at Forever (6 page)

All the while, her hands slid down her body to finger the edges of her black lace panties, letting them dip, as if she were going to strip them, only to pull them back up. The way he’d seen her do at the club. The action did exactly what he knew it had been designed to do—it made him desperate to touch her, to grab her hips and sink into her warmth.

“What’s the magic word, Alex?” She twisted around, thrusting her rear-end at him, then, with another flick of her hips, faced him again.

He snaked an arm out, managed to catch her around the waist, and pulled her down onto his lap.

“Please,” he answered, nipping at her bottom lip.

The move left her seated on the edge of his knees, her legs straddling his thighs. The very heat of her brushed his arousal, which strained the front of his trousers.

It wasn’t nearly close enough. He slid his hands up her thighs to her backside, dragging her closer, letting her feel how much he wanted her.

She gasped and dropped her head back. Her hair cascaded down her back in soft waves that fell over his arm. He couldn’t resist the call of her exposed throat and leaned in, ran his lips lightly over her skin, flicking his tongue against the pulse at the base of her neck. The subtle floral aroma of her perfume filled his nostrils every time he dragged in a breath. It swirled around him and made him feel wrapped in her.

He slid his hands up her taut stomach to curve around each breast, taking pleasure in the simple feel of them. A soft mewling left her mouth, the sound aroused and tortured at the same time.

When he dipped his head and laved his tongue over each taut peak, a cry tore from her throat. The sound nearly undid him. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, biting into his flesh. A groan rose in his throat.

“God what you do to me,” he murmured against her skin.

Her head lifted. The inexplicable tidal wave that caught them every time their gazes met, passed between them again. She peeked up at him from beneath those lashes, for a moment no longer sassy and full of mischief, but shy and innocent.

The disconcerting sight drew and repelled him at the same time. It made him wonder what the hell he was even doing there. Yet at the same time, he knew—those eyes. God those eyes. They called to the deepest part of him, a part of him that hadn’t been touched in twelve long months. They made him long for nothing more than to get lost in them, for the simple need to know what he’d find on the other side. To remember what it was like to be human.

She broke the inexplicable connection first, looking down at his chest, her voice as quiet as the night as she reached for the buttons on his shirt. “You’re wearing way too much clothing, Alex.” She plucked the buttons free one by one with the tips of her fingernails.

“Feel free to help yourself,” he murmured.

She tugged his shirt from the waistband of his pants. Placing her palms against his chest, her hands glided over his skin, pushing the shirt from his shoulders.

He shrugged out of it then tossed the garment to the floor. Her hands resumed their torment, sliding down his ribcage, over his abdomen, and around to his back. Her light touch left goose bumps. She lowered her head and pressed velvet lips to his skin. She left a trail of fire as she rained soft, open mouthed kisses over his chest and shoulders.

He dropped his head back and closed his eyes, tremors running through him, determined to let her take her time, to explore as she saw fit.

When she reached for his belt, her fingers undoing the buckle and popping the button free, his stomach muscles jumped. His heartbeat sped up. When her fingers glided along the length of his erection as she pulled the zipper down, he thought for sure it was going to end right there.

A long low groan slipped from his mouth. “God, you’re killing me.” The lack of control made him feel like a damn teenager having his first time. The woman had him on his knees, begging for mercy.

She pressed her lips to his throat, her hot tongue darting out against his skin, singeing his flesh. “Good. Then we’re even.”

He could hear the amusement in her voice and groaned again in response.

She slid from his lap and stood. Alex looked up as she reached behind her to undo the clasp on her bra. She let the garment slide from her arms. Her breasts sprang free, her nipples puckering in the chill of the air conditioned room. Or was it arousal? The sight made his mouth water with the need to press his tongue to each one. He longed to draw another cry of pleasure from her lips.

She tossed the garment over her shoulder. Then her hands slid down her body, over her curves, the way he’d seen her do a million times, the way he yearned to do. When her fingers once again gripped the waistband of her black lace panties, she had his undivided attention. His heart pounded as if it might beat right out of his chest. He couldn’t stop watching her if he tried. Three days he’d been waiting for those panties to come off, to finally see all of her.

This time, however, she didn’t tease him. She simply shimmied out of them, cocked a playful brow as she tossed them at his chest.

His breath caught in his throat as he finally got a look at her, standing before him gloriously and unabashedly naked. “You are so beautiful.”

If she was nervous, she didn’t show it, didn’t fidget, but stood and let him look at her, soak her in.

When she went to step out of her heels, he shook his head. “Leave them on. I like them.”

The need to touch her too strong to deny any longer, he stood, wrapped his arms around her and tugged her against him. He delighted in the simple feel of her bare skin against his, warm and velvety smooth. Her puckered nipples grazed his chest, tormented him. He slid his hands down her curves, just to luxuriate in the silky feel of her skin, then cupped her bottom and tugged her closer.

Damn. She was fire in his arms, and he was going up flames.

She reached for his waist, let her body slink along his as she rid him of his pants and underwear, then caught his erection in her hand and stroked him softly.

He groaned, shackled her wrist. “Sweetheart, you keep that up and it’s going to be all over right here.”

She moaned, an almost purr of pleasure. Pressing along his length, she slid her hands around his ribcage and up his back. The feel of her bare curves molded to his was more than he could bear. Too much and not nearly enough.

She nipped at his bottom lip. “Make love to me, Alex.”

He didn’t need any further invitation than that. Claiming her mouth with wild abandon, he sipped and tasted. Allowed himself a moment to enjoy the feel of her in his arms and the heady flavor of her tongue, then pulled away. He grabbed a condom from the nightstand, sheathed himself, then caught her around the waist and tumbled her to the bed. Took his time as he moved over her. A nip on the curve of her hip made her gasp. Dipping his tongue into her belly button made her giggle and squirm away.

When he reached her breasts, he stopped and settled himself between her thighs. Holding his weight on his elbows, he cupped them in both hands. He laved first one than the other with his tongue, took immense pleasure in the way her fingers sank into his hair as if to hold him there. Unable to resist, he looked up at her, watching her pleasure as he scraped his teeth over each tip.

A strangled moan tore from her throat. Her back bowed off the bed. She reached down and pulled at him. Obliging, he moved up and settled himself over her, tucking her soft curves beneath him. Enjoyed the delicious way her body fit to his.

“I need you,” she whispered.

He brushed her hair back from her face. He’d thought about this moment a million and one times, fantasized about it as he’d lain awake in bed each night. He wanted to take it slow, take his time and draw out her pleasure. Until his was the only name she remembered, until he was positive she would never forget him.

“Please, Alex.” She slid her hands down his back to cup his buttocks, arching against him.

He captured her mouth and moved slowly, sliding into her, slipping back, then pushing forward again until he filled her completely. The feel of her surrounding him, so tight, warm and slippery, was almost too much.

He gritted his teeth, let out a deep, shuddering breath. "I may not last very long, sweetheart."

Her hands slid up his back to gather him closer. She lifted her head, murmuring against his skin as she pressed her mouth to his throat. "You can make it up to me next time."

She arched her hips, rotating in slow circles, causing him to slide within her. He moved with her, rocking against her in a slow steady rhythm. God she felt incredible. The silky heat of her body wrapped around him. Her feminine curves molded to his. He reveled in the sheer power of her yearning as she clutched at his back, panting and mewling beneath him. He’d found heaven in her sweet, soft body. Lost himself and never wanted to be found.

She moaned in his ear, met him thrust for thrust, gave back everything he gave her. Her reaction only fueled his desire. The rhythm increased with every stroke, their bodies pulsing together, until they were careening toward that fine, slippery edge as fast as their yearning could take them. She drove him to the brink of delicious madness and was hurling him over the edge so quickly he feared losing all control.

Determined to take her with him, he reached between them, found her hot and slick clitoris and massaged her.

Her fingers bit into the flesh of his buttocks. Her body arched tightly against him. “
Oh God
… A.J…”

The sound of her pleasure, the feel of her body clamping around him, massaging his length, proved too much. His climax ripped through him. As he joined her in oblivion, her name left his mouth on a hoarse groan. He shook in her arms, feeling entirely too much like he’d poured a huge chunk of himself into her. Hers to keep.

He lay on his back a few minutes later, Angela gathered against his side, her head on his shoulder. Her soft cry echoed across the recesses of his memory. The name she’d called him stood out in his mind.

His eyes popped open. She hadn’t called him Alex. She’d called him A.J. Nobody had called him that since he’d graduated high school. He’d been going by Alex since college. In fact, only a certain few people had ever called him that.

Heart beating an erratic pace, his mind filled with her bright blue eyes, and the last time he’d seen eyes like those. He jerked his gaze to the top of her head, hooked his fingers beneath her chin and tilted it up, desperate to see her face.

The memory rose unbidden in his mind. A fifteen-year-old girl standing on the porch of her mother’s house, looking up at him with the exact eyes staring back at him now. She had the same button nose, the same full lips… He’d noticed the similarities more than once, but had dismissed them….

Then his mind flashed on the night before, the name she’d given him as they’d stood beside her car in the parking lot of the dance club.

“My name is Angela.”

The way she’d looked at him, as if she’d expected him to have something to say about it.

Oh hell… “
That
Angela?”

****

There it was. The moment she’d dreaded.

Angela squeezed her eyes shut, her stomach churning. Alex had asked the one question that had left her caught for days now. Deep inside lived a secret yearning for him to know it was her, but she knew if he did, he likely wouldn’t want
her
at all.

He sat up and pulled away. His brow furrowed in disbelief and pained accusation. “Please tell me you’re not that Angela.”

Heaviness seeped into her limbs, wanting to sink her. She knew darn well what was coming. Now that he knew who she was, he no doubt regretted making love to her. He’d wanted Candy. Men always wanted Candy. No man, not even her ex-husband, had ever wanted
her
.

Drawing in a deep breath, she forced herself to look up at him. He deserved that much. “When did you figure it out?”

“When you called me A.J.” Despite the irritation in his voice, desire flared in his eyes.

Heat crept into her cheeks, warming her face. “I’m sorry. It just…slipped out. It’s been very difficult to remember to call you Alex. I still want to call you A.J.”

He cocked a cynical eyebrow. “Were you even going to tell me, Angie?”

Her stomach twisted with the pain that rose up around her. “Angela. Nobody calls me Angie anymore.”

She wasn’t that stupid geeky girl anymore, dammit! Even as she thought it, she knew, deep inside, she’d always be that girl. It was who she was, and she couldn’t hide from it.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, shoving a hand through his hair, disheveling it. “And nobody’s called me A.J. since high school. Brock doesn’t even call me that anymore. You should have told me.”

He was right. She’d been a coward. She hadn’t wanted to face him, hadn’t wanted to see that look in his eyes, the one currently screaming at her. “Would you have invited me here tonight if you’d known, Alex?”

She didn’t need to ask. She knew the answer.

He darted a glance back at her. “You shouldn’t have lied to me.”

“I didn’t lie to you.” Not technically. “I did try to tell you.”

“You didn’t exactly tell me the truth either. You let me believe you were just a stripper from the club.”

Only minutes ago those eyes had held such passion and tenderness. Now they stared at her in furrowed accusation.

“Would you have invited me here tonight if you’d known?” she asked again, every inch of her heavy as the weight of reality descended on her.

He didn’t say anything at first, merely glared across the bed at her. God they were sitting on the very bed they’d just made love on, both still naked, a fact that seeped into her pores and somehow only made her heart ache all the more.

Then his features softened. He jerked his gaze toward the curtained windows. Moonlight streamed in through a crack in the thick curtains, creating a bright streak across the tan carpeting. She could feel the wall that erected between them, watched it go up in the stiff set of his shoulders.