Zara's Second Chance [One More Time] (Siren Publishing Allure)

by Mya Larose

  With an exasperated huff, she turned her back from her wardrobe, made her way to her bed, and threw herself on it. As she rolled over her stomach, she wondered why most women made such a fuss about what to wear, the makeup, and the hairstyle. Why couldn’t she just wear a pair of jeans and her favorite sweater? That was it, she didn’t care anymore and would put on a favorite jeans and a top.

  “Get real, woman, for the love of God,” she grumbled.

  Half-naked, she made her way to the living room toward her hi-fi system and turned it on to listen some of her favorite music while she started to get ready.

  Chapter 2

  “How can I be such a dunce?” Peter rumbled.

  For a man addicted to his java, he didn’t have even one bean left. It was unforgivable. He raked his fingers through his short cut hair and across his face. He was barefoot and wore his boxers as he tried to imagine how he could get his hands on a cup of coffee this early in the morning.

  He went back to his shabby kitchen with every cupboard door opened. The inside of each of them was empty. Looking around, he was on the verge of a panic attack. He hung his head down shamefully for such childish behavior, and he took a seat at the kitchen table. His lack of caffeine always made him melancholy. It was scary for a man of his size. He was lucky there was nobody to see him. He put his head between his crossed arms and thought about his life since he left his parents’ home.

  He was thirty-eight years old, so it had been quite a long time since he left the nest. What had he accomplished in his lifetime? Granted, he was an ex-military. He accepted a job as a retail security officer in a busy shopping mall. His main duty was to protect the safety as well as the well-being of both customers and employees. They had to prevent financial damage caused by shoplifting, robbery, or similar dangers. Some of his duties did include the removal of potentially harmful persons from the retail store or area. They used video surveillance equipment and radio to clearly communicate with other security personnel.

  A security officer of his type would generally be required to hold a skill set appropriate to the business’s environment, which usually included physical fitness. With his military experience, he had to stay competitive as well as highly disciplined to focus on preparing for battle.

  Therefore, he had to stay healthy, fit, and well organized. He rose from the chair to take a clean glass from the cupboard. He poured himself a drink of water from the jug of water sitting on the table.

  Also, he was a man whom the ladies loved. He was easy to talk to and someone they loved being around. A man who held their respect. Well! He didn’t need to kiss and tell, they did it for him. He sipped on his water. He didn’t want to boost his ego, but he was a man who was able to pleasure women in most any manner.

  The special ringtone on his cell phone he had set up interrupted his thoughts. He let the phone ring several times. He knew who was calling him. He shook his head with exasperation. He didn’t know anymore how to tell Claire politely to fuck off and to leave him alone. She had left him dozens of messages. Furthermore, she continued calling him every morning. The week he met Zara, he went straight to Claire’s house to tell her nicely that he was more interested in a platonic friendship rather than an amorous relationship with her. He remembered that she took the news pretty well that day, though now he knew better. He had hoped she would get tired of him if he didn’t return her calls and messages, but no such luck.

  The phone kept ringing continuously. He set his glass on the top of the table and took hold of his cell. With an exasperated sigh, he held the phone against his ear. “Yes, Claire!”

  “Hello, honey! It took you several seconds to answer your mobile phone,” she said, then added, “Aren’t you alone?”

  He let a loud sigh. “Yes, Claire! I’m alone. Can I ask you a question?” he asked as he rubbed his neck, annoyed.

  “Of course, honey, you can,” she replied innocently.

  “Why do you keep calling me, huh? I mean, you call me every morning and leave me several messages about my whereabouts. It is getting very annoying, Claire.”

  He heard her nervous giggle. “Don’t be silly, Peter. You make me sound like a stalker. I’m only calling you as a friend and nothing else. I’m sorry if my calls disturbed you. It won’t happen again,” she said. Somehow, he didn’t believe her.

  “Well! As long as you remember that. I have to go now, Claire. Bye,” he said and cut the conversation short.

  He threw his cell phone on the table and grabbed his glass again as he drank the water. He had to pay her another visit and explain to her exactly what he tolerated from a friend or not. Enough was enough.

  He put his empty glass in the kitchen sink, then left the kitchen. As he made his way to his bedroom, he thought about his conversation with Claire. Something was not right about that woman, but he could not put his finger on it.

  He went directly to his queen-sized bed. So what? He was a big man therefore he liked to sleep in a big bed. He crawled up the middle of the bed and lay down on his back with his hands crossed under his head. After he met his beautiful yet shy neighbor, those so-called urges, or desires to have different women, evaporated from the moment he laid his eyes on the sexy Miss Miller. Out of desperation, he searched out her name on the letter box located next to his, at the entrance of the building hall. He tried to recall the accident. He had to laugh about the strange situation that had taken place.

  It had been one of those typical days where he had returned home tired and frozen to his bones. The only thing he wanted to do was to crawl into his bed and sleep until the next day. He had been so caught up in his own misery that he didn’t see the person carrying a big shopping bag until after the collision, when he found himself on his butt. Then he had looked at the other person to make sure she was all right.

  He had been paralyzed, as if Cupid were shooting one of his arrows at him. She was beautiful, her flawless visage surrounded by beautiful bouncy curls. Her big brown eyes, like a doe, were crowned with perfect arched eyebrows. He had reckoned she might be of Mediterranean origin, or close to it. She had a gorgeous, sun-kissed tan and her hair was dark brown, almost black. Right then, she had looked so pissed off at him that her whole face had flushed. She had been breathing heavily through her nose, like a bull facing a matador with his red cap.

  His eyes had moved from her face and down directly to her breasts. What a shock he had! They were remarkably large for her height and he saw her big nipples poking through her tight T-shirt.

  He had smacked his lips and thought about suckling those little jewels. He wondered what color her nipples were, a dark brown or peach color? What did they taste like? Maybe they tasted like raspberry or…He had almost drooled that day. Even now, he felt his cock trying to burst. How could he help it? He shrugged his broad shoulders. He was a breast man.

  After several attempts, she had succeeded in getting up and started to pick up her groceries from the floor rapidly. She had muttered to herself about men and chivalry. He had thought he won the lottery that day when she got up. She possessed the body of Venus. Normally he preferred his women tall and slender. However, this woman was curvy. She was lush like a pinup girl from the forties. She would be considered heavy by today’s standards.

  While she had been busy picking her groceries up from the floor, and his gaze had caressed her curvaceous figure. She had a trim waist and a perfect ass—big, round, and high enough for her man to hold onto while he fucked her from behind. It was A-class prime ass and he felt his mouth watering again. He thought that he was going to come like a randy teenager that day. At the vision of her ass, he felt his cock leak and weep for release.

  Still in his trance state and sitting on his butt, he had heard her excusing herself, then making her way to her flat. She didn’t even cast a second glance toward him. By the time he had stopped lusting, gotten up from the floor, and apologized, she had her door shut. He had tried to talk to her several times since the fatal accident, but still she ignore
d him since that day.

  His mood went from bad to worse with his lack of caffeine, and his cock hardened with sexual frustration. He had to take the matter into his own hands, again.

  He lifted his hip. He pulled his boxers down past his ass cheeks, then wrapped his right hand around his cock. He started to rub it up and down. His thumb caressed slowly his mushroom head in a circular motion. He didn’t need any lubricant because his cock wept. He closed his eyes while he imagined Zara.

  She would unzip his jeans with a sensual smile. She would draw his cock into her hand, lean down, and slowly she would begin to lick him all over, suckle, French his opening and swirl her tongue around his mushroom. She would grasp his cock with both hands as she sucked on his cock harder.

  He would straddle her chest with his thighs and pump himself between her plump breasts while she pressed them together, moaned, and talked dirty to him. She would flick her tongue from time to time on his cock’s head.

  His pumping became faster and faster until his insides coiled tighter and tighter. Every muscle in his body convulsed with the intense joy and ecstasy that rolled through him as he emptied himself all over his stomach and hand with a groan. Ah! Those breasts and mouth of hers always got to him.

  With a heavy sigh, he grabbed the box of tissues sitting on his bedside. He pulled out a couple of tissues, wiped his hands first, then his stomach, and kicked off his boxers. Taking the soiled tissues with him, he swung out of his bed and made his way to his bathroom naked. He threw the tissues in the bin under the sink, then went to have a shower.

  He tilted his head back, letting the water stream down his head and down to his body. He was out of ideas about Zara. Maybe he should give up but his heart wasn’t there. He poured some body wash in his palm as he set out to wash himself.

  He knew she was interested in him because he couldn’t brush off those beautiful tits of hers pointed at him. After rinsing the remaining soap foam from his body, he turned off the shower and took a hold of a bath towel. Peter dried himself vigorously. He hung the towel around his hips. Leaving his bathroom, he made his way to the living room.

  He sat down heavily in his armchair. While he leaned back, he shut his eyes. He tried to relax and reflect on his next maneuver.

  He really needed his coffee, especially now. Suddenly he heard a low sound of music. It came from his next-door neighbor. He jumped out of his chair like a jackass from his box. He had a great idea and rubbed his chin with a chuckle. What did they say? “The early morning has gold in its mouth!” In this situation, it was coffee. He made his way to the front door. He was on the verge of opening it when he remembered he had only his towel hung around his waist.

  He laughed softly. “We wouldn’t want to shock Miss Prim-and-Proper Miller, now would we?” he said to himself.

  He walked back to his bedroom. He put on gray sweat pants he had drawn from his closet along with a white T-shirt.

  In any event, it would be easier to hide his unruly dick. That thing had its own mind as soon as he saw Zara. He shook his head in resignation. He turned back to the kitchen to grab a mug as well as his keys, then he made his way to the door.

  Chapter 3

  Rocking her hips at the rhythm of the music, Zara lay down on her bed a perfectly ironed pair of black skinny jeans with some intricate Celtic design just beneath the front pockets. She went back to her closet to pick out a beautiful purple-colored lace sweater she knitted, accompanied by a black tank top. She opted for knee-high boots with a four-inch heel. She wasn’t a tall, leggy woman. Therefore, any accessories were welcome in her book.

  Clad in only her underwear, she went to her bathroom. She started to apply some blush to her cheeks, lip gloss on her lips, and finished with a dab of mascara to her eyelashes. The phone rang while she decided what to do with her unruly, curly hair. She threw her arms in the air and with an exasperated gesture and stomped down the corridor. She was certain it was her mother again. That woman never gave up. She went to her living room toward her beautiful wooden console.

  She seized hold of the telephone receiver. “Hi, honey! How are you today?” asked Lara. “I hope I didn’t interrupt you.”

  Lara Dunups had been her friend since college. She was a happy, perky, kind of annoying person at times. Nevertheless, she had an awesome personality. She was the very opposite of her friend. That was why they got along so well.

  “It doesn’t matter, Lara,” she replied with a grin. “I was getting ready for my appointment with your friend, the web designer, Mr. William.”

  Lara’s squeal was so high pitched that she had to unglue the receiver from her ear. “I’m so excited you’re going to have a proper website, like one of those professionals.”

  “For the love of God, Lara! Can you please stop doing that?” she replied with exasperation and rubbed her ear.

  “Doing what, honey?” Lara asked, clueless. “What time are you going to meet him and where? Would you like me to come with you?”

  “I have an appointment for ten o’clock in his office. No thank you, Miss Busybody, I’ll be fine.”

  “Oh! You are such a party pooper, Zara,” she said with a giggle. “Anyway, any news from our sexy neighbor?”

  Her question didn’t surprise Zara the least bit. She wished she had never mentioned her accident with her cocky, drool-over-me sexy neighbor. Because when Lara had an idea, she didn’t give up until she accomplished her goal. She was more like a dog with a bone.

  With a grimace, she crossed her fingers. “What news, Lara? What are you talking about here?” She hoped to derail the sensitive issue.

  “Now, Zara Miller! Don’t try to play your usual game with me. Don’t forget whom you’re talking to. I’m talking about this great hunk of a man living in the same building as you.” With a longing sigh, she added, “And just at your doorstep. Your mojo must be running wild.”

  Zara shook her head in despair. “What do you want to know?” Zara asked with resignation. She knew her game was up by now.

  There she went again! Lara gave forth another of her loud, shrill cries. It seemed to get higher and higher when she got excited. She rubbed her ear. She wished Lara would give up this habit to squeal on the phone.

  “I knew it, I knew it.” She could clearly imagine Lara jumping up and down.

  “Now tell your mama everything, and I emphasize the word everything.” This time Zara had the receiver away from her ear.

  How could she tell her friend that she had avoided Peter Adames for a week? For the love of God, why? She was a thirty-three-year-old woman and she acted like a haughty bitch.

  How could she tell her friend that the man intimidated her? Why would such a hunk of man pay attention to her? What was his game? Did he think she was an easy lay? Well! He was going to get a rude awakening then because she wasn’t a woman to be messed with, especially after her ex.

  She recalled the day she met him for the first time. She had done some shopping that day and as usual bought more than she needed. While she made her way down to the corridor that led to her flat and tried to carry her groceries, she had collided with him. They both ended up whining on the floor.

  When she got her bearings together and looked in front of her, she had realized that the man facing her was the most gorgeous specimen of man that God could create. He had a beautiful chiseled face, like a statue. His nose wasn’t perfectly symmetrical. Maybe he had a fight or two under his belt. His bottom lip was slightly full, enough to make a woman jealous. His frame was so firm, perfectly fit, broader in the shoulder, and narrow in the hip. Shamelessly, she had run her eyes down his body and back.

  Oh my word! He was gorgeous. She had felt her libido coming to life. Her body responded sexually to him. She felt her pussy pulse with an intense need to be filled. She had never experienced it before. Her nipples came to life and poked hard through her bra. To top it all off, he had the most beautiful, glittering hazel eyes.

  Right then, they had been full of anger and it was sent to
her. She still couldn’t really understand it. Why? He was the culprit, not her. His dark gaze really tempered her excitement. Therefore, she had quickly apologized, picked up her groceries from the floor, and went to her flat. Before she shut her door, she had looked at him. He was still sitting on the floor with a strange expression on his face.

  “Hey, Zara! Are you still there?”

  She shook her head to clear her thoughts. She tried to remember her friend’s question. There! She did it again. She whimpered softly. Her pussy clenched and her panties were soaked. She panted and had to go back to her bedroom and change her soaked knickers to a fresh pair. She rubbed her forehead with her palm. She was such a horny and a hopeless woman.

  “I already told you everything, Lara,” she sighed.

  “I know about that, but I’m sure you’ve run into him several times since the accident?”

  Zara thought about lying but she couldn’t do that to her best friend. So, she pulled her big-girl knickers on.

  “Well…he did try to talk to me several times,” she admitted sheepishly before Lara could chastise her, “but I ignored him.”

  “Why? Has he been stalking you? Has he been rude? Do you want me to come over, honey?” Lara fired.

  “Will you calm down, girl? Stop being upset!” Oh! Did she forget? Lara had a great imagination.

  “I don’t trust him, Lara, you know me. I don’t know why we have this conversation anyway.”

  She didn’t want to mention that he also made her want to do naughty things. It was so not like her! She heard a long sigh from the other end, and she could easily imagine Lara trying to summon the courage to tell her the right words.

  “Sweetheart, I know. If you don’t try to open up, how are you going to meet someone? Let me tell you something else. Loving and trusting someone is a big risk to take. You don’t know if it’s going to work or not. It’s like playing the lottery,” Lara added wisely.