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

by Mya Larose

  She could feel Yasemin’s piercing eyes on her back like an x-ray laser. She had the feeling, thanks to Miss Busybody Lara, her sister knew about Peter. As usual, her sister waited for her to speak first. Some things never changed, even when you got older. She sighed in resignation.

  Zara turned slightly to her sister, and she could almost see the steam coming out from Yasemin’s ears. She started to thump her long and elegant finger on the table rhythmically. It was the sign of a brewing storm before it unleashed its wrath upon the poor soul in its path—in this situation, in her sister’s path.

  She ground a handful of fresh coffee beans she’d bought on her way home from the express store, then made her way to the coffeemaker. She tried to buy herself some time. She tried not to show her snickering as she did her best to maintain a straight face.

  “Did anything new happen lately?” Yasemin asked nonchalantly.

  Zara could feel the edginess in her sister’s question, bless her soul. She desperately wanted to know about Peter. The little devil on her shoulder whispered in her ear to play a little more with her sister. But she could not do that to her.

  “Actually, yes.”

  While she waited for her sister’s reaction, she poured the hot brew into two mugs. She’d become a little daredevil since she met Peter. Yasemin’s avidity was so strong that she almost jumped out of her chair. Judging by her expression, she wanted to shake her like a madwoman.

  “Oh! Would you calm down?” She snickered, then handed her the mug. “You tell me what you know and I’ll tell you what I know. How is that?” She wriggled her eyebrows playfully at Yasemin.

  She was playing with fire now. She could see from her sister’s expression with her eyebrows down. Slowly she inclined her beautiful face to the side.

  “Something is different about you, Zara! You’re going to tell me now or by God I’ll sit on you until you confess.”

  Zara snorted at her threats. Trust Yasemin to act dramatically.

  She sipped her coffee. “Keep your pants on, girl! Nothing’s wrong with me. I met this guy last week, and I’m having dinner at his place tonight, that’s it,” she said, trying to give her a shorter version. She pushed the second mug toward her sister. “Your coffee is getting cold, love! Drink up.”

  She watched Yasemin pick up her mug slowly like she was in some kind of trance. Abruptly, she slammed her cup on the table and tipped over half the substance of her hot beverage on the table. Such brusqueness shocked Zara, who jumped in her seat. Looking at the mess on the table, she lifted her chin to look at her sister. All jokes and amusement disappeared from her. Her sister looked very upset, almost on the borderline of tears.

  “That’s it? That’s it? Is this some kind of joke, Zara? Do you know what happened last time with Dickhead, or do I have to remind you?”

  That was such low shot from her sister, but she couldn’t blame her. She had been with her all along, with Lara, when she had tried to patch up her broken heart as well as her pride.

  With a heavy sigh, she wiped the table with the tea cloth. “I know, honey. I will always be thankful to you for that. I’m better now. No, scratch that. I feel wonderful and confident enough to try again.”

  Throwing the tea towel to the side, she looked at her right in the eyes.

  “He actually seems genuine about me, Yasemin. I’d like to give him a chance. Women of my size can’t be picky about a man anyway.” She shrugged her shoulders.

  Without uttering a single word, Yasemin got up from her seat. She wouldn’t look at her as she made her way out of the kitchen. She stopped and turned to face her. The sadness in her eyes felt like an arrow shot to her heart.

  “For the last time, there is nothing wrong with your size. I wish you would stop putting yourself down like that. You are a beautiful woman, Zara.” She shook her head. “Sometimes, I wish I was like you. Did you know that I always looked up to you? When that asshole broke your heart, he also broke mine. I don’t want to see you like that again, Zara.”

  “Yasemin, please! Don’t be mad at me and leave like that,” she pleaded.

  Zara rose from her seat to go to her sister. She wrapped her arms around her and rubbed her back in a circular motion like the same way when they were little girls and Yasemin was upset.

  “Oh, Zara! I’m not mad at you. It’s just that I’m worried about you. Just promise me you’ll be careful, okay? If anything happens, you have to call me. It isn’t an option, it’s an obligation. Do you hear me?”

  God! She wondered sometimes who the elder was and who the younger sibling was.”

  “I will, love,” she answered meekly.

  With a heavy feeling in her chest, she watched Yasemin make her way to the door. The last thing she wanted to do was to alienate her sister.

  Chapter 8

  The ambience in his apartment was set, with soft and sensual music playing in the background. He believed that for the music to be romantic, it had to be too soft to hear. For this particular night, he chose “Sway” by Dean Martin. He lit a couple of scented candles. He bought them on his way home from one of those shops that specialized in candle making. He wanted to impress Zara tonight.

  As he set them in the middle of the kitchen table on each side of the table display, he took a step backward and ran his fingers over his close-shaven chin. He inspected his effort to set a romantic table. Every detail had to be perfect.

  He pulled a chair out and sat on it. With a heavy sigh, he ran his hands over his face. He then looked at his hands, and he was shaking slightly. He was both nervous and excited about it. The last time he felt this way was when he was fifteen years old as he tried to deflower Jan Brown. He had to get his bearings before Zara came or he would look like a horny goat. Oh for fuck’s sake! He even changed his bed linen. Well…one can only hope!

  Right on time the doorbell rang. Trying to control his emotions, he took a deep breath as he rose from his chair. He marched to the door while he convinced himself that everything would be fine. Tonight it wasn’t about him, it was about Zara. He wanted to learn a lot more about her. Therefore, he had to find a way to temper his libido.

  He yanked open the door, blinked, and took a deep breath again. There she was in front of him with a beautiful smile and absolutely beautiful twinkling eyes. He let his eyes glide along her sexy figure. She knew how to dress. She had on a pretty red dress that offered an intriguing view of her voluptuous bosom.

  What would it be like to kiss those luscious mounds and lick her nipples? He was actually salivating. Oh! He knew what they felt like under his fingers. He had a short sample this morning, but it wasn’t enough. He hungered for more. His cock stirred at the memory, and he found it difficult to take his gaze away from her breasts when he looked at her face. From the glint in her eyes, she knew the effect the sight of her breasts had on him.

  She put her hand on her beautiful bosom. “Hi, Peter! Are you going to invite me in? Or just stand there with your jaw hanging to the floor?” She giggled.

  Her smile overwhelmed him, shy and yet fresh with a hint of confidence that he found incredibly fascinating. There had to be many men who wanted to bed her. He felt privileged to have such a lovely and sexy woman as a date.

  He coughed with embarrassment. “Hello, Zara! Please come in. Don’t mind me, beautiful women have that effect on me,” he replied with a gentle smile.

  If she smiled at him like that again, he was liable to seize her, shove his cock in the sweet depth of her slit, and fuck her breathless right here, at the entrance door.

  “Is it every woman? Or do you have in mind someone in particular?”

  He snickered. “Oh, believe me, I have her just in front of me,” he added.

  He stepped to the side to let her go through the door. Her scent allured him as well as hypnotized him like the song of sirens calling for the unfortunate sailor.

  He closed the door behind him. “What about you? Is there something—or someone—in specific that affects you to the point of
making yourself look like a fool?” He gave her his arm.

  Again, she gave him a breathtaking smile. God, she is beautiful. She slid her other hand through his arm.

  “It’s more about someone,” she replied shyly.

  “Is that so?”

  She didn’t reply, only nodded her head. They made their way to the couch. He had set up a tray of drinks.

  As soon as she settled down on the couch, he asked, “Can I get you something to drink? I didn’t know what you would like so I have white and red wine, Diet Coke or coffee, and if you push your luck, you can have a cup of tea.”

  With a giggle, she replied, “A glass of white wine will be great.”

  He grabbed hold of the neck of the bottle of white wine from the chilled container and poured them two glasses. He could feel Zara’s intense gaze on him so he didn’t attempt to look away from her after he handed her a glass of wine.

  “Thank you!” she said and grabbed the glass. When their fingers touched, he felt her tremble. This little reaction toward him gave him enough courage and hope to pursue his plan.

  She sipped slowly at her drink. “Tell me something, Peter. I’m not going to beat around the bush here…so here it goes…” She took a deep breath. “Why would you be interested in me? I mean, you could have others and I’m sure you have. What’s your game?” She talked fast without even blinking.

  He slowly shook his head with a frown. “I don’t understand your question. Why shouldn’t I be interested in you?” Her constant questions about his motives concerning her were really starting to bother him.

  She leaned over and set her glass down. “I’m going to be blunt with you, Peter, again.”

  He could see that she was extremely nervous. He saw her hand shaking when she placed the glass of wine on the coffee table.

  “I was fucked up by my ex. He did such a great job! I lost my dignity, independence, and my self-esteem.” She took a deep breath again. “I don’t want to repeat it anytime soon. It took me over twelve months and the help of a friend and my sister to be who I am now.” The plea he saw in her beautiful brown, doe eyes did him in. “That’s why I need to know your game,” she said.

  He put his drink next to her and leaned toward her. “I’m going to be honest as well, sweetheart. I’ve never dated a woman like you,” he confessed.

  “You mean fat women,” she replied, offended.

  He shook his head. “Please let me finish my sentence before you judge me. In my book, you aren’t a fat, but voluptuous woman.”

  She reached for her glass, and Peter could see that her hand still shook. He was used to dating women who were confident about their beauty, but also—as Zara pointed out—slender. Maybe women with more flesh didn’t feel so confident about themselves.

  “We seem to always clash, sweetheart.” He gave her his best smile. “The only thing you need to know is that I’m dead serious about you. I would rather hurt myself than hurt you. Is that enough convincing for you? Because I don’t know about you, but I’m starving!” He presented her with his hand and hoped to hell she would take it.

  With a relieved sigh, she took his hand and grabbed her drink with her other hand. He led her to the kitchen and over to the table.

  She put her hand to her chest. “Oh, Peter!” She sighed softly. “Did you really go to these lengths to impress me? It’s all so perfect and romantic! Thank you!” She turned to him with a smile.

  “I already told you, Zara, you’re a special woman. I intend to know you better,” he replied with confidence.

  He pulled her chair out and with his eyes invited her to take a seat. While she sipped her drink, he started to serve the starter. It was a simple salad with a regular dressing. He was used to women who only asked for a tiny portion of salad, so he watched her in amazement as she seemed to enjoy every bite.

  “This salad is lovely. What kind of dressing did you mix in? Is it Italian or…hmm.” She hummed and closed her eyes.

  He couldn’t look away from her. “It’s an ordinary dressing. Well, that’s what it says on the bottle anyway,” he replied with a grin.

  She giggled. “I’m so glad that you didn’t try to give me one of those so-called diet salads. Every man I went on a date with thought I was on a constant diet because of the way I look.” She shook her head with a laugh.

  He didn’t hear the bitterness in her voice. He sighed softly in relief. He rose from his chair and cleared the plates from the table quietly. While he prepared the second dish, he had his back turned to her. He could feel her scorching gaze on him. He believed that he wasn’t doing so badly with Zara. At least, she kept her smile.

  He presented her a plate of square-cut lasagna accompanied with French fries. When he heard her squeal of delight, he knew that she clearly enjoyed her food and watched her savor every bite. She seemed to notice his scrutiny because she stopped eating. He saw her blush adorably.

  She dabbed elegantly the corner of her mouth with the napkin. “I’m sorry if I ate like Miss Piggy. Then again, your cooking is absolutely to die for.”

  “Don’t apologize. It’s quite refreshing to see a woman that appreciates my culinary effort.”

  She shrugged. “I’m like you, I reckon.”

  “Every woman I’ve gone out with always went for something light or diet.” He shook his head in resignation. “I love eating hearty food. I enjoy sharing it with others. If you understand my meaning.” He wiggled his eyebrows playfully.

  She bent across the table toward him. “Well! I guess you met your match, Mr. Adames, because I enjoy cooking as well as eating. I wouldn’t change it for the world,” she whispered, like she was telling him a secret, with an air of cheekiness.

  She laughed heartily, and the action stretched the delectable-looking cleavage. A man could probably bury his face between those beautiful breasts and never want to surface again, even to take a breath. Still, what a way to go! His cock began to harden again. He squirmed uncomfortably in his seat.

  They talked about everything in general. He found that she was a delectable woman to talk to because her questions were simple and straight to the point, as well as her answers.

  He could remember the time he spent listening to his previous dates talking about their hair, makeup, and how many hours they spent at the gym to keep a body such as theirs. The more he listened to Zara talking selflessly the more he realized something very important. He had wasted his time with the wrong type of woman.

  “Do you have a brother or sister?”

  “Yes, I have one overprotective little sister. Yasemin’s like a mother hen. She can be overbearing sometimes. Still, I love her to bits.” She smiled adorably.

  Her whole face changed when she mentioned her sister. It was astonishing to watch. It was like being hit by lightning a second time.

  “You don’t have any brothers, then?”

  She shook her head and swallowed a mouthful of lasagna. She wiped her mouth with the napkin. “Why do you ask?”

  There was his chance. Man! I’m so nervous. He felt like a teenager with his first girlfriend. He grabbed his glass of wine and took a sip before he replied, “I asked because I don’t want my pretty face to be smashed in case he found out that I pawed his sister this morning and what I’m planning to do to her tonight.”

  Blushing adorably, she giggled as she sipped at her wine. “Well, your pretty face is safe.” She batted her eyelashes at him coquettishly. “What are your plans for me then, Mr. Adames?”

  He sighed gently with relief and he smiled seductively. “Patience is a virtue, my dear Miss Miller, and the night is still young. You just have to wait and see.”

  He traced the contour of her face with his index finger. He swore he felt her shiver. He hoped she was as affected as him when he was in her presence.

  She swatted at him playfully with her hand. “You are such a charmer, Peter. Tell me more about yourself then.”

  While she listened to him talk about his previous job in the army, she sipped
at her drink. She passed the tip of her tongue along her bottom lip, an action he found highly erotic.

  “Keep licking at your lips like that and I won’t answer to my actions. I have just the right thing for you to run your tongue along. It’s something long and smooth.” He wiggled his eyebrows. He knew it sounded very cheesy.

  “And I presume it’s hard and hot, too.” She let out an unladylike snort.

  She was so adorable. “Well, yes, it’s hard, but not hot. It’s very cold right now. However, it can be rectified with that talented tongue of yours.”

  He knew he’d completely lost her. “What?” She blinked her lashes several times.

  “We aren’t talking about what I’m thinking, are we?”

  He saw the redness creeping along her cheeks. He pointed his finger to her. “You, Miss Miller, have one dirty mind.” He nodded his head. “You’ll know soon what I’m talking about.”

  They both smiled and finished their main meal. He displayed a bowl of peach cobbler with a big dollop of heavy whipped cream on its side, then handed her the dessert spoon.

  “That was the object I was referring to, you vixen.” He winked at her.

  “Oh!” She puckered her lips and giggled. She seemed so relaxed and content. “I make sure to lick every drop of cream on the spoon,” she told him saucily.

  He watched as she slowly ate her dessert. The minx licked the spoon, then groaned with each bite like she was having mini-orgasms. He stood with his plate and spoon in the other hand like a statue as his cock was at full mast. He had never witnessed anything so sexy. Better than porn, in his book. The comparison was significant.

  Still, it was nice for a change to be with a woman who didn’t make him feel like a greedy pig because he liked to eat a hearty meal rather than a plate of Soya beans.

  After their last spoonful of dessert, Peter asked her if she would like to go into the front room. When she smiled and nodded, he sighed in relief. He was a man on the edge here! He groaned silently to himself. There was only so much one could take before he blew his load, literally.