ELEMENTAL LOVE: A Second Chance Single Dad Romance

by Scarlet Wilder

  It was nearly ten p.m., and I was concerned that in his need to get everything fixed in the apartment, he’d skipped his own dinner. Alex had built an apartment for his parents adjoining the back of the main house, and my father had often been called over to help with things. I think that, as they got older, the couple and my dad had become closer and that oftentimes, he was at their place simply because they liked him being there.

  My suspicions were confirmed as Dad assured me he’d eaten. “Anthea roasted a chicken and we had it with potatoes and salad,” he said, and at that moment, my stomach growled. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until I began to think about food.

  Goddamn Alexander, I thought. He made me forget about dinner.

  “Are you all right?” Dad asked. “You sound a little quiet.”

  “Oh, I’m fine,” I assured him. “I’m just tired.”

  That was a lie. I was wide awake, my mind filled with thoughts of Alex holding me, lifting up my legs, kissing my mouth, sucking on my nipples, and being inside me. How could I have possibly thought of anything else? I quickly ate and then took myself to bed, but as much as I needed to relieve myself of the sheer frustration that had been coursing through my body for the last several hours, I couldn’t bring myself so far.

  I wanted him to the be one to do it.

  Chapter 22

  ________

  ALEX

  She shouldn’t have left like that. She simply upped and fled, before I could catch my breath and talk to her about what had happened. I decided to stay at the office for a couple of hours and finish up, suddenly having an overwhelming desire not to return to the empty office alone the next day.

  But, I was still pissed. I wasn’t about to apologize for what had happened, either. I wanted her and I took her. She wanted it too. No matter what her mouth might have said, her body betrayed her. She craved me, and I could tell from how wet she was, how she sucked on my tongue, how she clawed at my back.

  Had she run off because she was embarrassed? Because she was angry? I couldn’t tell. But she didn’t have to simply flee like that. There was nobody else around, and I wasn’t about to tell anyone what had happened. But I wasn’t finished with her yet. I was nowhere near done.

  Eventually, I slowly drove back to the house, even though I’d considered getting a hotel room in the city. She’d parked the Jeep outside the house, Alastair told me as I got in, and he informed me that he’d then moved it back into the garage.

  “Right,” I said. “It’s fine. She can use it whenever she wishes.”

  Noah was asleep in bed, and once more, I went upstairs to say goodnight to him. He didn’t stir.

  I got in the shower and stood under the steaming hot jets, running one hand through my hair and placing the other hand flat on the tiles. I couldn’t understand why Rachel had run off so quickly. We were both consenting adults and what had happened had been brewing for some time. There was no denying it.

  ~~~~~

  The following day I ate breakfast with Noah and didn’t even go into the study at all. The downpour had finally ended and now that the skies were clear. Noah and I went for a walk at the far end of the estate, where he brought a bag of nuts so we could feed the squirrels together.

  Once we were back at the house, he went over to my parents’ apartment. Every Sunday they had the same ritual: he went over to them, sat on my dad’s knee and together they would watch old black and white movies, Laurel and Hardy being their favorite. They’d laugh like clowns while Mom prepared dinner and, later on, she’d bring him back to his room and tuck him into bed.

  So, although I could have left well enough alone, I wanted to speak to Rachel. I knew that if I called her, she’d refuse to take my call. So, there was only one thing to do. I called her father.

  Dennis picked up promptly. “Mister Maitland?”

  “Hi, Dennis. I was just wondering how the renovations were coming along with that old pond? I heard it’s a bit of a mess after the downpour yesterday.”

  “Well, we didn’t get as much done as we’d have liked to because of it, but I’ve rallied the troops and we’re working on it as we speak,” Dennis replied.

  “Great. So you’re up there for the day?”

  “Yes, we’ll be here for quite a while. Is there something you needed, Sir?”

  “No, it’s fine,” I replied. “I was just checking that you were available in case I needed you to help me with something.”

  “Of course. If you need me, give me a call and I can be down at the house within five minutes.”

  “Thank you, Dennis.”

  “No problem, Sir.”

  Great. Just what I wanted to hear.

  Some might say it was a little underhanded, to make sure the man of the house was out of the way, but I didn’t want to be disturbed. I walked through the grounds to the stables, above which was the old brick building Dennis and his daughter had lived in ever since they’d arrived soon after the death of Rachel’s mother.

  I walked up the steps at the side of the building. I could hear music coming from inside, and the door was off the latch. The windows were open as well, and the beat of the music floated outside. It sounded like a Spanish song, with an infectious beat and, although I couldn’t understand a word that was being sung, I liked it.

  I was about to knock, but I couldn’t resist pushing the door open just a little and I caught sight of Rachel, dancing in the kitchen. She had a dishcloth in her hand, and both her arms were over her head, as though she were a flamenco dancer. In her black slacks and white t-shirt, her hair messily scooped up in a bun, she looked completely different than she had the previous day, but she was just as alluring.

  She started to sing, swaying to the beat with her hips in perfect rhythm, her body snaking to the beat. I couldn’t tear my eyes away. “Bailando, Bailando,” she sang, “Tú cuerpo y el mío, llenando el vacìo, subiendo y bajando…”

  The music had her in a trance, and she could just as well have been wearing a red flamenco dress and black shoes. She was completely unaware of my presence. I pushed the door open, my footsteps unheard over the loud sound of the music. I slipped my hands around her waist and she screamed, turning around. But I put my finger to her lips. Then I took hold of her waist with my right hand and took her right hand in my left.

  She was blushing a crimson red, but with the music still playing, I began to dance with her. She laughed and held onto my shoulder, looking into my eyes, her hips moving sensually, and I followed her lead. We certainly wouldn’t have won any awards, but it didn’t matter. She was in my arms and we were moving together.

  “Bailando, Bailando,” the chorus cried, “Ese fuego por dentro, me está enloqueciendo, me va saturando…”

  I would have been happy if the song had continued on forever as I twirled her around, spinning her around before bringing her back to me, slamming her body against mine, holding her tighter. There wasn’t much room to move in the kitchen, but we made do, both of us now hot and sweaty, until the beat finally died down, and we stood there, staring at each other and panting.

  In the silence of the room, I was the first to speak. “Why did you just leave last night?” I asked.

  She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out, and I wasn’t about to wait for her to get her act together and come up with some excuse, so I kissed her, long and hard, grabbing onto her ass as I did so.

  Her mouth moved over mine, and I heard a groan coming from deep inside her throat, but then she pulled away from me. “My dad will be back soon,” she said.

  “No, he won’t. I’ve made sure of it.”

  At that, she groaned again and kissed me once more, and I picked her up. She wrapped her legs around my waist, where they’d been yesterday, and I was instantly as hard as I had been then, only now I was in rather tight blue jeans and it was a damn sight more uncomfortable. I didn’t have time to mess around.

  “Which bedroom’s yours?”

  She didn’t stop kissing me, only i
ndicated to the left, so I marched her down the little hallway to her bedroom. I kicked open the door and practically threw her onto the bed, then pulled my t-shirt over my head and lay down on top of her. Her legs were already open, and I was between them, tugging at her t-shirt, lifting it over her head, so she was in only her bra. That, too, was soon gone.

  Her hands were stroking up and down my back and she was groaning. She was as captivating as she’d been last night but felt even better. I needed her now just as much as I had then, but I had to pace myself, because this time, it was all about her.

  I couldn’t resist holding her arms above her head once more. I loved to see her submit to me, and now, she arched her back, inviting me to take her nipples into my mouth once again, and I did so. I was so damn hard that I had to undo the buckle of my belt, followed by the top button of my jeans, as I licked her breasts, sucking on her nipples and biting her soft flesh.

  Then I paused, and I moved down to her hips, wrenching down her black pants and underwear at the same time, so she was completely naked. It was the first time I saw her completely exposed, and I groaned at the sight of her. God was she exquisite.

  She was neatly shaven, a tiny strip of fuzz running down the V between her legs. I pushed her legs apart, not able to control my hunger for her any longer, and she slipped them over my bare shoulders as I dove into the heat of her core with my tongue.

  She gave a loud cry, her head flying back and hitting the pillow, and I had barely licked up the first drop of her hot juice when she clamped my head between her thighs. “God,” she cried. “Why the fuck didn’t you do this yesterday?”

  I lifted my head. “I’m here now, aren’t I?”

  She lifted her head, too. “Why the fuck are you stopping?” she demanded, and I immediately returned to my task. Not that I could ever have viewed it as such. She was delicious. My erection was so painful, my cock bursting against the material of my jeans. Although I knew she was going to kill me, I had to stop again to kick off my pants and boxers.

  And, true to form, she glowered with frustration as I did so. “For the love of God,” she cried, “can you please stop stopping?”

  With my cock now free, I lay on my stomach and once more returned to her. And this time, I didn’t stop. I held onto her thighs, my tongue lapping at her in rhythm, the beat of the song we danced to minutes ago, still playing in my mind. She writhed on the bed, crying and grunting, making such delicious, sexy noises that I had trouble concentrating. My cock rubbed against the sheets, which were damp from my own pre-cum.

  “Fuck!” she yelled, and she grabbed my head, writhing on my face, rubbing her wetness on my nose, my lips, grinding into me as she gritted her teeth and panted loudly. “Oh fuck, Alex. I’m…”

  But before she could finish, and with a final groan that filled not just the room but the whole apartment, she dissolved into her orgasm, flooding the sheets, her stiff clit practically vibrating with the intensity of her climax. I wanted to carry on, but she stopped me, unable to take any more, and I quickly got to my knees and entered her, fucking her hard and fast until I came too, seconds later, filling her up with another load of my desire for her.

  I had no idea how she was able to do this to me. We didn’t even speak decently to each other for most of the time, didn’t flirt coyly or bat our eyelashes at one another. In fact, I was pretty sure she had a keen dislike for me, and I wasn’t clear as to exactly what I felt for her, either. But one thing was for sure: when it came to sex, we were on fire. I’d never wanted a woman so much. I was back to being a nineteen-year-old, unable to go longer than a few seconds before blowing my load.

  We lay there in the early afternoon heat, my head on her chest, just millimeters away from her nipple. I could hear her heart beating wildly, as she recovered, but then it slowed down, and neither of us moved this time. Instead, we lay there for a long time, and she even, sleepily, stroked my hair and kissed my forehead.

  “That’s more like it,” she said, softly patting the palm of her hand against my cheek.

  Chapter 23

  ________

  RACHEL

  Oh, Britney Spears. When you coined the term, Oops, I did it again, I don’t think you could ever have anticipated how many people would have been able to relate to you. As I lay there, Alexander’s head on my chest, the phrase ran through my mind, over and over again.

  When he left, he didn’t do it by storming out like a petulant kid, the way I had. That annoyed me. I hoped he’d be as dumb about it as I’d been the day before, but he got up, strolled naked to the kitchen, made us some coffee and brought me a cup.

  It was difficult not to stare at his nakedness. He was powerful and had uncommonly fine features. With his well-defined cheekbones, angular jaw, and eyes the color of gunmetal, he was devilishly handsome and had a body to match. My staring didn’t go unnoticed.

  “Like what you see?” he asked and I was quick to throw back a casual “Maybe”, but of course, the blush that accompanied it was a dead give-away. He knew the answer. It was clear from the smile that etched its way across his face. I could have kicked myself for being so damn obvious.

  “So tell me, do you usually dance like that when you’re alone?” he teased, and I was about to answer when his phone buzzed.

  He took it from the nightstand, the familiar serious expression returning as his forehead furrowed in a frown.

  “Everything okay?” I asked.

  “Yes. It’s my mom. She wants me to join them for an early dinner. Noah’s insisting.”

  I wanted him to stay. Wanted him to spend more time with me, but I, too, was concerned that Dad might be returning soon and the last thing I wanted to have to explain to him was why his employer was in my bedroom, naked.

  Alex got dress, but before he left, he walked over to me and kissed me, cupping my face in his hands and smiling down at me. And then he was gone.

  I lay on the bed, naked and spent, the junction of my thighs still throbbing with sated pleasure. I was full of all the good endorphins, the ones that make you feel sleepy and wide awake at the same time.

  He’d come back to finish what he had started. I still disliked him, of course, but you have to admire the man for making sure that the job’s complete and that the customer’s fully satisfied. And I was. There was no denying it.

  Was that the last time? It had to be. We’d begun something at the office and had finished it at the house. That was it. We’d both got what we wanted, although the fact that he was up two-to-one in the game wasn’t lost on me. But now wasn’t the time to be pedantic.

  I dressed and I started dinner. I knew that Dad would be far too exhausted when he came in from working all day to pay much attention to me and how I was doing, and I was relieved at that.

  ~~~~~~

  Over the next week and a half, Alexander and I worked together in New York as we had been doing and the tango between us started again. One moment, we’d be infatuated with each other; the next, we’d be at each other’s throats again. It was a bizarre dance of tiptoeing around an intensely tangible, but unprofessed attraction.

  It was a busy time, too. Things were coming together nicely, even after the drastic changes that had to be made. The first floor of the complex was nearly finished, and we were already beginning to place orders for the furniture for some of the rooms. I was kept busy ensuring that everything was going according to plan.

  Alex was out of town for a couple of days and I noticeably missed him not being around, even if he drove me up the walls at times. I could only hope that he felt the same.

  I usually stayed in the city from Monday to Thursday evening, although the company apartment that I stayed in was at my disposal even during the weekends. Each evening I strolled back from the office through Central Park, occasionally stopping for a drink or something to eat.

  The middle of July meant that the weather was beautifully warm, but nothing like that of Spain’s. As I dined sitting outside of cafes or inside restaurants in New York
, I couldn’t help but miss Europe. The beautiful wines, the smell of herbs and spices that always seemed to linger in the air, and the sound of someone, somewhere afar, playing an old folk song on a guitar.

  I called Lois one Thursday evening, and she was thrilled to hear from me.

  “Are you loving being back in the city?” she asked, and I relayed to her the feelings I’d had of being happy here, but missing Madrid at the same time.

  “Well, I miss you too,” she said. “And I know someone else who misses you, as well.”

  I was sitting inside a pizzeria on the corner of Third Avenue and East Eleventh Street, and I rolled my eyes at hearing that Mathias was apparently pining for me, thousands of miles away. “You sound like you feel sorry for him,” I said to my cousin.

  “You know, I sort of do,” Lois replied. “I don’t know whether it’s because guys seem to grow up slower than girls, but I feel like he’s learned his lesson. I do feel like he misses you.”

  “Why? Has he been talking to you about that?” I asked. “It doesn’t really make any sense.”

  “Who knows?” Lois said. “All I know is that he’s been coming around, asking about how you are doing. I told him how busy your life is now, and that you don’t even have time for your favorite cousin anymore.”

  “Aw, don’t say that,” I said, “I always have time for you. It’s just that things have been crazy here from the get-go.”

  I told her all about my new contract with Elemental and with Kate Rose, and she was impressed. I think Lois must have lost count of all the times I’d trawled job sites in Madrid, hoping that one day, Kate would come to Spain. In the end, I had to go back home to get my dream job.

  Lois was really happy for me, and I told her about the project. I skipped the part where I was working for Alex. I didn’t want to talk about the Maitlands at all, but it was Lois who talked about Tom. “So,” she said. “Any luck with the gorgeous guy you had a crush on all that time ago?”