Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 51744 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51744 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
He covers his eyes, rubs his temples. “You didn’t say a word. I went to your house. You were gone. I had to learn that you left from your neighbor. That older woman. Mrs. Heinz.”
Mrs. Heinz. I haven’t thought of her in years. She used to bake the best cookies, and every week she rinsed her hair with something that made it look blue. Whatever happened to her? She probably died alone in that trailer park.
In my mind’s eye I see Chance on the steps of the old trailer. Knocking. No answer, and then hearing from Mrs. Heinz that Mom and I left. I turn then.
“Why didn’t you come get me? Why didn’t you question? Wonder?”
“You ’think I didn’t wonder?” He makes a fist, and his blue eyes go wild. “I’ve wondered every single day. And I did go after you. I missed two weeks of school trying to find you. But you disappeared into thin air.”
He steps toward me, and I retreat until I run into the wall. He cups my face again and presses his body into me.
“It’s a good thing my father’s dead. If I learned about what he did while he was alive, I’d have killed him.”
I swallow, nod. He would have.
“You need to find out what he was into, get to the bottom of the shit that’s brought you back here. Solve it. Put the guilt on him. All of it. You and I both know it’s where it belongs.”
I nod again.
“Tell me I can kiss you. Tell me I can learn your body again. To prove to you that you’ve always been mine. That there are no more secrets between us.”
I want to tell him yes. To all of it. Because I want him to do all that. Except there’s one secret left unsaid.
Grady.
I believe Chance. I do. But I won’t risk my son. Not for anything. He might prove that I’ve always been his, but I don’t know if I’m ready for him to know he’s always had a son too. For now, Grady stays a secret. Until everything’s revealed. Until I know the one piece of Chance Bridger that’s always been mine won’t be yanked away.
“Kiss me,” I say, a split second before his mouth descends on mine.
12
CHANCE
* * *
Kiss me.
I don’t have to be told twice. Or once. I cup the back of her head and hold her so our lips meet. I’m gentle for a moment—one quick second where I remember the feel of her, her scent, everything about being with her.
And then I’m ravenous. I delve in and our tongues meet. I lick into her, angle her head to get as deep as possible. I move my hands over her body, immediately dropping to the hem of her sleep shirt and back up, taking it with me so I tug it over her head.
Sure, we have to stop kissing for a moment, but now she’s bare.
Fuck, she’s not even wearing panties.
I groan as I skim over her arms, her sides, lifting to cup her breasts, and then lower to pull her to me with a hand on her ass, the other sinking between us.
“Fuck, you’re soaked.”
She rolls her hips and I sink a finger into her. She was tight that first—and only—time we were together. She’s just as snug now.
Her inner walls clench and I add a second finger. She goes up on her toes as I work her.
Our lips part and she pants, rolling her hips.
I watch. How can I not? She’s gorgeous. As perfect as I remember, even more so. At eighteen, she hadn’t grown into the womanly curves she has now. A lush roundness to her breasts, her hips.
We aren’t virgins any longer, and she knows what she wants.
“Greedy pussy,” I whisper in her ear as her cheeks flush and her mouth opens on a moan.
I rub my palm over her clit. I’ll take her, but not before I watch her come.
When she does, her cry echoes off the walls. Only when she slumps against me do I pull my fingers free. Instead of fumbling for my dick as I would have way back when, I put my dripping fingers to my mouth and lick them clean.
Her taste… Fuck.
I scoop her up, carry her the few feet to the unmade bed, lower her to it, and drop to my knees at the edge. She’s wilted so it’s easy to move her as I want. I throw her legs over my shoulders and look at the treasure before me.
I didn’t get to do this before, to taste her.
“Chance,” she moans as she tangles her fingers in my hair
I’m ravenous for her, to get her essence on my tongue, to learn what makes her moan, what makes her drip for me. I’m tempted to stay here, eat her for hours…