Desperate Chances

by A. Meredith Walters

  Fuck, she wanted me.

  This wasn’t about doubt or guilt or shame. This wasn’t about a one-night stand or messing up what had already disappeared.

  This was about Mitch and Gracie.

  Gracie and Mitch.

  I had to go to her.

  Now.

  I wasn’t going to wait another second. I had wasted enough of those.

  I grabbed my keys and all but ran to my Jeep, almost falling on my ass on a patch of ice. It was snowing heavily but I didn’t care. My Jeep was four-wheeled drive.

  And it would take more than snow to keep me from Gracie Cook tonight.

  I woke up to a loud banging at my front door.

  “What the—?”

  I sat up suddenly, the bowl of popcorn falling on the floor. “Shit,” I hissed, reaching down and sweeping up kernels.

  I looked around the dark living room a little confused. I must have fallen asleep on the couch watching the Fresh Prince. Some sort of infomercial for wrinkled cream was playing on the TV. I turned it off and stood up, stretching.

  What time was it?

  I picked up my phone and saw that it was almost one in the morning.

  The apartment was eerily silent and I remembered that Cole and Vivian were staying the night at their new apartment.

  It was nice. The whole lack of sex noises thing. Maybe living on my own wasn’t going to be so bad.

  Bang. Bang. Bang.

  Okay, so I hadn’t imagined that. I turned on a lamp and walked to the door, tripping over my sneakers that I had kicked off earlier.

  “Stupid shoes,” I grumbled, picking them up and tossing them behind the couch.

  Bang. Bang. Bang.

  Christ! Who was trying to beat down my door so late at night? Whoever it was, wasn’t very patient. And that annoyed me. A lot.

  “Hold your horses, jeesh,” I muttered. I glanced out the window and could see that the world was completely white. Streetlights glinted off the snow and it was really pretty.

  Who in the hell would be out in this weather? A complete moron most likely.

  Bang. Bang. Bang.

  “If you pound on that door one more time I’m going to shove something uncomfortable up unmentionable places,” I said loudly. I quickly grabbed a mint and popped it in my mouth. Even when woken from a very deep sleep, a girl had to think about her oral hygiene.

  I pulled open the door and froze, my scowl melting into an expression of total shock.

  “Mitch?”

  He was standing in the hallway with melting snow in his hair, his cheeks red from the cold.

  “Hey, Gracie. Please don’t shove something uncomfortable in a place that’s unmentionable,” he chuckled, his hand braced against the doorframe.

  “What in the hell are you doing here?” I stepped out into the hallway, not sure if I should let him in or not. He was looking a little on the frantic side and that made me nervous. What in the world?

  “Did you drive? The roads look awful!” I scolded. “There’s this handy invention known as a telephone, you know.” I crossed my arms over my chest and narrowed my eyes.

  Mitch’s eyes heated and I had to take a step back. I was still waking up and I wondered, on some level, if I was still sleeping. Because he looked at me like he wanted to devour me. Eat me whole. He was a wet dream come to life.

  “What I have to say can’t be said over the phone,” he rasped, his voice low and rough.

  Nope, this was real all right. The cold blast of air drifting down the hallway was making my nipples hard and the hair stand up on my arms.

  “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Did something happen?” I fired each question in rapid succession. I was worried now. Why else would this man be standing outside my door in the middle of the night during a snowstorm?

  Mitch lifted up his hand and I realized he was holding my note.

  Oh, right. My note.

  I chewed on my bottom lip, not sure what to think. But I felt a fluttering of excitement. Of hope. Damn, my knees were starting to tremble.

  “You didn’t need to come over here tonight, Mitch. We could have talked tomorrow. When it’s not dumping down snow,” I chastised with an uneasy laugh.

  “Didn’t you want me to come?” he asked, frowning. “I thought you did. You wrote our code.”

  “I did use the code. I just was expecting a text or a call. Not a full on invasion,” I joked. Why was I joking? This was serious! Shit!

  Mitch’s expression turned almost feral. His eyes swept up and down my body in a way that could only be described as territorial.

  “Let me inside,” he commanded.

  He commanded. I think I liked his bossy side.

  I shivered and it had nothing to do with the cold sweeping into my apartment from the hallway.

  “I—uh—I don’t—” I was stuttering. Mitch Abrams had taken away my ability to formulate actual sentences. He had knocked me off balance. What else was new? The bastard.

  “I’m coming in, Gracie,” he said firmly and when I didn’t move aside something in his face changed. It cracked slightly and his vulnerability shown through.

  “Don’t tell me to leave,” he begged, his lips trembling slightly, his hands shaky as he reached up to cup my face.

  “Please, let me come inside. I need—” His words cracked and broke apart. He shook his head. “Just don’t make me go.” He leaned down and rested his forehead against mine.

  I couldn’t get my thoughts together. Things were happening so fast that I was having a difficult time wrapping my head around everything.

  I had been asleep, curled up on my couch, now I was standing in front of Mitch and he was begging me, no he was pleading with me, not to turn him away.

  It would be so easy to drown in this. To lose myself in the intensity of the moment that I had been waiting for.

  But there was something we had to think about.

  Someone…

  “Sophie—” I started to say, but Mitch cut me off.

  “We’re not together anymore.” Relief sharp and potent rushed through me. Mitch’s eyes drank me in. All of me. I felt that look everywhere. “I should have shown up at this door a long time ago. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long,” he whispered.

  Oh my god.

  Oh. My. God!

  “But—” I couldn’t finish my thought because he placed his lips on mine. Not hard. Not rough. Just the barest touch of skin to skin.

  “Tell me to come inside,” he whispered against my mouth. He wasn’t asking. He was telling. And damn, it was hot.

  His eyes were full of turmoil and chaos. I was going to drown in them.

  “Is that a good idea?” I asked him. He ran his thumbs along the curve of my cheeks, our noses touching, breathing in each other. Only each other.

  We had been here once before. Only then I had been the one begging to be let in. One night was all it took to destroy the beautiful friendship that we had. I was scared to lose whatever tenuous footing we had gained in our relationship. I was terrified to ruin us all over again.

  But I was a different woman now than I had been a year ago. I had learned a lot about my own strength. I had developed some self-worth. And the Gracie that finally acknowledged that she loved him wasn’t going to run away when the going got tough.

  I reached up and ran my hand through his damp hair and he shuddered beneath my fingers.

  “With you, I feel like I’m always falling,” he sighed.

  Mitch bent down and ran his nose along my neck and it was my turn to tremble, my legs barely keeping me upright.

  “Me too,” I whispered.

  “Don’t close the door on me, Gracie. Don’t turn me away. I need you.” He looked down at me, his eyes burning bright. “I need you.”

  I wanted to open my door. I wanted to let him into my home. Into my life. But I was still bothered about Sophie. They had just broken up.

  Was I the rebound?

  Mitch picked up on my hesitation. He knew me well enoug
h to read my thoughts.

  “Maybe you should think about this first. We don’t have rush into it. You just broke up with Soph—”

  “Stop,” he said. It came out sharply. “I’m not with here because of her. This has nothing to do with Sophie.”

  “I don’t see how you can say that,” I argued. Why was I arguing?

  Because if this was going to happen, it was going to be done right. And not with the residuals of another relationship hanging over our heads.

  Mitch closed his eyes and let out a frustrated breath. I remained unmoving in front of my door. He wasn’t coming in. Not yet.

  When he opened his eyes he was composed. Resolute. He cupped his hands on either side of my neck and looked deeply into my eyes.

  “The night Sophie and I hooked up was two weeks after you and I were together,” he began and I blanched. I really didn’t want to know the details.

  “Mitch, seriously, I don’t want to know—”

  “Just listen, Gracie. Please.”

  I closed my mouth and let him continue.

  “I was drunk. And I spent most of the night crying on her shoulder about you. I was in so much pain that I couldn’t see straight. I just wanted it to stop. I wanted the image of you gone. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. My heart was in a hundred pieces.”

  I hated to think of him like that. It hurt. A lot.

  “When I was with Sophie, it dulled the pain a little. For a while anyway. That’s not to say that I didn’t really care about her, because I did. Sophie is a nice girl. She’s just not the girl I wanted. So I let myself continue in a relationship that I didn’t feel because I was bitter and angry and resentful. Because I was so pissed and hurt over you rejecting me that anything was better than being alone and wanting you.”

  Mitch’s mouth twisted and his fingers dug into my skin. “I hurt a perfectly sweet woman because I’m an idiot who tried to lie to his own heart. I should never have been with her. I shouldn’t have done that to her. Or me. Or you. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. I should have been here, at your door, begging you to be with me.”

  My heart thumped wildly as his words hit me.

  “I should have waited until you were ready. I shouldn’t have let my pride and ego dictate my decisions. Because, Gracie,” he paused, looked into my eyes. “Every single minute of every single day that I wasn’t with you was wasted time.”

  I felt the tears before I realized I was crying. They trailed down my cheeks and he kissed the salty wetness away. “You are my beginning.” Kiss. “You are my middle.” Kiss. Kiss. “You are my ever after.”

  “So I’m sorry about Sophie. I’m sorry that she got caught up in my bullshit need to erase you. But I’m not sorry about how I feel about you. I’m not sorry for standing here at one in the goddamn morning and hoping that you’ll let me in. I can’t ever regret doing what needed to be done so that I ended up here.”

  Well, damn.

  “But I’m not leaving, Gracie. Never again,” he swore, then his mouth captured mine and all doubts were gone.

  The force of the kiss took us both by surprise. Mitch pulled away, panting. “I’m not going to be gentle,” he warned.

  “Okay,” I gasped.

  And he was kissing me again, his tongue plunged inside. Taking. Owning. He had me completely.

  He pushed me up against the wall, his hands holding me still as he kissed me punishingly. He bit down on my bottom lip, drawing blood, and I moaned so loudly that I was pretty sure my neighbors would hear. We were still out in the freezing cold hallway and we were giving zero fucks about that.

  He cupped my ass and pulled me up against him. I felt his erection straining behind his zipper. He was touching me everywhere. Pressing. Rubbing. Sliding. Fingers on flesh. Pulling. Grasping. Never, ever enough.

  His hands became tangled in my hair and I found myself rubbing myself against him frantically. I would have crawled up inside of him if I could. I wanted to be closer. As close as I could get while still being two separate people.

  “I’m desperate for you, Gracie. I always have been,” he said against my mouth. “Let me in. Let me love you.”

  I felt the doubts stirring below the surface. They wanted me to acknowledge them. There were still so many variables to consider. My issues. Our damaged past. How we had hurt each other. Whether we could trust one another.

  But right then, none of it mattered.

  Because Mitch needed me.

  As much as I needed him.

  I reached behind me and pushed the door open wider. Still kissing, we stumbled into my apartment and Mitch slammed the door shut with his foot. We broke apart, our lips puffy and swollen.

  “Should we go to the bed—?”

  Mitch started kissing me again and I stopped trying to speak. We sank down onto the couch as we devoured each other. We kissed like we never wanted to stop.

  Mitch unbuttoned my shirt and pulled it off my shoulders. There was nothing delicate in his actions. He wasn’t tender. This was a man who was going to get what he wanted.

  He pushed me back onto the sofa and leaned over me. I stared up into his beloved face and I wanted to tell him that I loved him.

  I wanted to kiss his lips and give him everything that I had. But there was something wild in his eyes. Something out of control and a little scary. I was so turned on that I couldn’t help but writhe beneath him. I wanted his touch so badly that I thought I’d lose my mind.

  “What do you want me to do?” he growled, tracing a line from my collarbone down between my breasts, stopping just below my navel. He toyed with the button of my jeans, slipping his finger below the material.

  I tried to rub myself against his thigh, needing the friction. I was throbbing. I was so excited it had become a physical pain.

  His finger rubbed back and forth along the tender skin just below the waistline of my pants. He stared down at me, licking his lips.

  “Gracie, what do you want me to do?” he repeated, smirking at me with a smile that was downright devious.

  “I want you to touch me,” I huffed. Wasn’t that freaking obvious?

  Mitch dipped his head and lightly ran his lips along the curve of my belly. Not kissing. Not licking. Just a teasing, tantalizing touch.

  “Where do you want me to touch you?” he whispered against my skin.

  Fucking hell!

  I didn’t answer right away, too caught up in the sensations wracking my body.

  He nipped at the skin above my hip and I yelped in surprise. “Where do you want me to touch you, Gracie?” he demanded, harsher this time.

  “Everywhere, Mitch! Everywhere!” I moaned.

  “Here?” he breathed, kissing my belly button, his tongue dipping inside.

  “Oh,” I groaned.

  “Or should I touch you here?” he asked, slowly unbuttoning my jeans and pulling down the zipper. He peeled them back and kissed my mound through the fabric of my underwear.

  It wasn’t enough and he knew it. He was teasing me and enjoying every single minute of it.

  “More,” I whined. I sounded like a bratty kid who didn’t get the candy bar she wanted. I didn’t give a shit.

  “You need to be specific,” he laughed.

  I gripped his hair and gave it a yank, pulling him back up the length of my body. He wanted to play rough? Well he’d get rough.

  When he had settled his weight on top of me, fitting between my thighs, I stared up into his eyes. We were burning for each other. This is what it felt like to be on fire. To be consumed from the inside out.

  “I want you to put your cock inside me,” I purred and he groaned. I tugged his hair again, harder this time. “I want you to fuck me so hard that I will feel you between my legs for days.” I arched up, grinding against him. “I’ll beg for if that’s what you want. I can plead for you to screw my brains out.” I pulled his ear lobe into his mouth and bit down. Not too hard. Just hard enough.

  “But I just want to feel you everywhere,” I whisper
ed.

  Something changed on Mitch’s face and his eyes softened. He shuddered then wrapped his arms around me, rolling both of us over so I was now on top, straddling him.

  He pressed his hand over my thumping heart and held it there. It was beating so hard and so fast I wondered if it would imprint on his palm. “I just want you to feel me here,” he said, the words cracking and falling a part. “It’s the only place I ever want to be.” His voice broke and shattered and I came completely undone.

  “Mitch,” I let out in a tattered, tortured breath. And then we were kissing again. He quickly removed my shirt and bra, throwing them on the floor. He trailed his lips down my body until he reached my nipple. He sucked the taut, sensitive bud in between his teeth and I arched into his mouth.

  “I want you naked underneath me,” he rasped against my breast. “I want to own every inch of you.”

  “Well I can’t be the only naked one here,” I pouted and Mitch laughed.

  He ripped off his shirt, buttons flying. One landed with a ping against the radiator. He balled up the fabric and threw it across the room. “Is that better?” he asked, giving me a cheeky grin.

  I nodded, my tongue thick in my mouth as I stared at his muscular chest. He didn’t have any piercings or tattoos like the rest of the guys in the band. Most people wouldn’t look at him and see a rock star.

  His skin was unblemished and perfect. He didn’t need anything else to be beautiful.

  I pulled him up so that he was in a sitting position and wrapped my arms around him, kissing his chest, licking his skin and nibbling a line up to the base of his throat.

  “Mmmm,” he sighed. I had wiggled out of my jeans at some point, so that now I was only in my panties. He was still in his jeans, which was quickly becoming a problem.

  But I knew, without him telling me, that Mitch wanted to take his time. It was important that we didn’t rush this.

  I kissed Mitch, our lips parting, tasting and taking. “I wish I could take it away. The hurt. The betrayal. I’m so, so sorry,” I murmured. I could never apologize enough. I only hoped one day the sting of what I had done would lessen.

  Mitch pulled back and looked at me long and hard. He kissed me again. Once. Twice. Three times. He smoothed the hair back away from my face, his hands so tender where before they had been demanding.