Relapse

by J. P. Nicholas

  I can feel the heat rising to my cheeks as his drop-dead gorgeous blues look down at me. "Did you just come, Cherub?”

  I shake my head.

  "No," I say breathily.

  A wolfish grin pulls on his lips. "Yeah? Do I have to check?"

  I shake my head again; this time, it's reminiscent of the way a child who was caught lying shakes their head. I jerk on his shirt. "Can you take this off now?"

  Laughing, he lifts his hands behind his head, and yanks off his shirt in one fluid motion. I bite my lip in anticipation as I let my eyes devour him.

  "Now, those," I command, pointing at his jeans.

  He shakes his head as he chuckles. "Not so fast."

  Darren lunges toward me and scoops me up into his arms.

  "Bedroom?" he grunts out. The hint of lust in his voice is not something I remember ever hearing before. It sounds almost feral, like he's the predator and I'm his prey.

  I guide him to the guest bedroom that I am occupying for the time being. As soon as we cross the doorjamb, Darren tosses me onto the queen-sized mattress and shuts the bedroom door with his foot. I hear the lock click into place right before he pounces onto the bed, his body hovering over me.

  He cocks his head and arches his brow. "Do you have any sort of attachment to this shirt?"

  "Not really. Why, is it too ugly?"

  "Dreadful," he scoffs, jabbing both his thumbs into the hole above Bugs’s head. I watch his biceps flex as he tears the old shirt into two pieces, exposing my bare midriff to his hungry gaze.

  Holy shit, that was hot as fuck! I watch his eyes steadily as they roam over me, and he peeks out his tongue to wet his bottom lip. This Darren is very different from the one I knew long ago. Gone is the nice boy I once loved. In his place is an aggressive man. A man who knows just what he wants and isn't afraid to take it. A man I can't wait to get inside of me.

  He drags the torn shirt over my shoulders and down my arms before his hand slides under my back, clutching the hook of my bra. He pauses, looking me square in the eye. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

  My heart squeezes at the recognition in both his words and his eyes. There is the boy I fell in love with. He is still there, underneath all the hard muscles and manly exterior. It's as if I'm transported back in time to that day on the boat when he said those very same words to me. They mean just as much to me now as they did back then.

  I nod. "There's no doubt in my mind."

  This earns me a genuine smile, not one full of lust, sex, or naughty intentions. But one that is just full of pure enjoyment. And as abruptly as it appeared, it vanishes.

  Darren flips the hook of my bra, dragging it off my arms before he tosses it to the floor. My bare breasts spring into place, and he's quick to palm them. As he gives them each a tight squeeze, I can feel his erection pulsate against my stomach.

  "Bloody hell, you've got magnificent breasts," he groans, lowering his mouth to introduce himself properly.

  I clutch fistfuls of sheets as his lips close around one of my taut nipples and he sucks hard. The intense pleasure sends goosebumps prickling down my arms. My eager pussy throbs, begging for his attention. But it's not her turn. He's focusing all his attention on my tits right now. With his mouth still sucking the right one, he brushes the back of his knuckle over the other, teasing it in a circular motion. Heat pools between my legs.

  "Oh, my God. That feels…" My voice trails off as my head lolls back.

  A popping sound echoes throughout the room as he drops my breast from his mouth. He nuzzles his nose against my neck. He's so close I can smell his scent. A scent that is so uniquely him. I inhale deeply, trying to commit it to memory. He smells like outdoors. All pine, musk, sandalwood, and man. The smell is woodsy and oddly makes me feel warm, safe, and secure.

  "Does this feel good?" he mumbles against my neck. His hot breath tickles my skin and sends a shiver down my spine. He nips at the tender flesh. I shudder in response.

  "Mmmhmm," I purr.

  Unable to take it anymore, I buck up against his cock, which is still confined in its denim prison. I must remedy that immediately. In a desperate attempt, I reach out and yank on the waistband of his jeans.

  "In due time, darling. Right now, it's still your turn." He laughs, the sound muffled against my skin as his mouth slowly starts to trail its way down. The trail of hot kisses starts at my neck and goes all the way down past my stomach.

  Darren lifts his head to glance up at me, a mischievous golden glint in his eye. He's clearly up to no good, and I can't wait to see what it is.

  A smile quirks at the corners of his mouth. "How much do you like these trousers?"

  I shake my head in a flurry. "Don't you dare! Can't you be delicate for once?"

  He nods and flashes me a wink. "Delicate Darren it is then."

  He places a wet kiss below my navel as his hands slide underneath the waistband of my yoga pants. Gently, he slides them over my hips and down my legs. I must've gotten lost in the moment because the next thing I know, they are off and he is hovering over the thin lace fabric of my panties.

  I hum as he traces the delicate lace of my panties with his fingertip, giving me a taste of what's to come. "Red, the color of—"

  "Blood," I cut in. Blood? What the hell is wrong with me? That's not romantic or sexy at all. I sound like a fucking psychopath serial killer.

  Laughter rumbles from deep within his chest. The sound is smooth, deep, sexy, and makes my pussy ache for him even more.

  "Yes. But I was going to say," he pauses to kiss my sex with each word. "Fire." Kiss. "Passion." Kiss. "And desire." On the last kiss, I unknowingly loop my hand behind his head and yank him down toward me.

  I squirm underneath his weight. The feel of his mouth moving over the material is driving me wild.

  He dips a finger underneath my panties, and I can no longer think straight. I moan incoherent words as his fingers feather against my pussy.

  "Bloody hell! You're so fucking wet for me," he rasps out.

  With a finger still gliding against my slit, Darren turns my panties to the side, giving him better access to all of me.

  He drags a finger through my lips, spreading me. My vision goes blurry when he grazes the tips of his fingers through my folds. Then, he plunges one finger inside, thrusting in and out of me. I bite my lip, trying to stifle a moan as he eases a second inside me. I fail.

  "Oh, fuck," I holler as I toss my head back against the pillow.

  Darren brings his mouth to my ear and whispers, urging me on. "That's it, love. Come for me."

  I whimper as I push against his fingers, riding him as I grow closer to another orgasm. I need to feel him. I want to feel him. I stretch out my hands, letting them roam across his bare chest. I can feel his washboard abs flex under my fingers as they brush over each chiseled muscle. I'm so close. So very fucking close.

  My clit swells, begging for release. As if he has pussy-telepathy, Darren nibbles on my ear as he drags his other hand upward and circles my clit. I detonate within seconds, unleashing a tidal wave around his fingers.

  "Daaaarrrrreeeeeennnnn!” My head falls back on a breathy moan.

  "I love it when you moan my name," he confesses, retreating from me to suck my orgasm off his fingers. "So damn sweet. Just like I knew you would be. Christ, you drive me completely bonkers."

  "Bonkers, huh?" I choke out, still trying to catch my breath.

  "That's right, darling. Bonkers."

  With my head still resting on a pillow, I hear the sound of every metal tooth separating as it vibrates through the air. I snap my head up just in time to see him discard his jeans. Thank fuck, he's not wearing any underwear. I can't help but smile groggily as I watch him stroke himself. Once. Twice. Thrice. Not wasting any more time, he rips open the foil packet with his teeth and rolls the condom down every inch of his shaft. My. Oh. My. So. Many. Inches.

  With his dick in hand, Darren smirks. "Are you ready for me, lass?"

  I nod e
nthusiastically, possibly grinning like a junkie about to get their fix. Am I ever.

  With slow precision, Darren slides my panties down my legs until they join my bra in the ever-growing pile on the floor. He releases his grip on his steel rod to glide his palms down the insides of my thighs and spread me wide open for him.

  Darren shifts his hips to poise himself at my entrance. I whimper as he runs the head of his cock over my slit a couple of times, horrendously teasing me before he finally decides to slide inside. He grunts as he rocks his hips back and forth, easing in and out of me with each thrust.

  "Fuck, you're so tight." He tilts his head back, releasing a long sensuous groan.

  I lift my legs, wrapping them tightly around his waist. Each swivel of his hips is harder, faster, and full of need. I watch as sweat glistens his brow. Why the hell do I find that so damn enticing?

  I circle my own hips, meeting his thrusts halfway. This feels too damn good. With the way my clit grinds up against his pelvis with each shift of our hips, I know that I'm teetering toward the edge.

  The hot press of his body against mine gives me a sense of belonging. It's as if this is where I am meant to be. Right here, with him. I brush the thought aside. It's just been so damn long that my sex-deprived brain is doped up on the drug that is Darren Gracen. She doesn't know what she's thinking right now.

  He leans forward, allowing his mouth to claim mine. Each sweep of his tongue matches the rhythm of our hips. My body is having sensory overload. My head starts to spin, making me feel dizzy and lightheaded. But that only adds to the glorious sensations coursing through my body.

  He smothers my moan with his mouth as I come. The aftershocks ripple through me as he continues to power drive through them. With one final thrust of his hips, he breaks the kiss, burying his head into my hair in an attempt to muffle the thundering sound of his roar as he comes.

  Keeping the connection, Darren gazes down at me, a wistful grin lifting his mouth. I love that grin. It's sexy, endearing, and reminds me of how we used to be. For a split-second, his eyes drop to my mouth before he snaps them back up again.

  "Kiss me," I whisper my plea, knowing that is exactly what he wants to do right now, and that's precisely what I want him to do too.

  He inches closer, bringing his lips dangerously close to mine, but they don't touch yet. I dig my hands into his thick hair, twirling the dark brown locks around my fingers before I bring his lips down to meet mine. His lips slide across mine, sucking and biting before he parts them. Our tongues roll together in a tango of passion, desire, and lust. I suck on his bottom lip, causing him to break the kiss on a grunt.

  "God, I've missed you. This. Us."

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Darren

  I cannot believe I bloody said that. It was downright stupid to let that slip from my lips, even if it was the God's honest truth. I did miss her. And being here with her now is like a dream. One I never want to wake up from.

  It's been an hour since I woke up and started staring at the ceiling, contemplating just what I am getting myself into. Am I a bloody fool to allow myself to fall back in love with the woman who obliterated me? Yes, but then why don't I currently give a shite? I'm jumping right into the dark abyss headfirst with both eyes open, praying that she won't drop me this time.

  I hear a murmur coming from her side of the bed. The covers shift as she rolls over onto her side. Her eyelids flutter open, giving me a glimpse of the gorgeous green beauties before they become fully visible.

  "Did I fall asleep?" she asks, her voice soft and sweet.

  I nod. "We both did."

  She scrunches her nose and moves her lips to the left. It's so fucking adorable. A blissful smile lifts her lips.

  My left eyebrow lifts. "What's that smile for?"

  "Nothing, just love hearing that beautiful accent of yours."

  I roll over onto my side, allowing me to stare right into her eyes. I lean forward and press a kiss onto her nose. "It's hard to resist you when you say things like that."

  "We should talk," she says, dragging her hand through my hair playfully.

  God, there's something about when a woman runs her hands through my hair that makes me perpetually hard. It's such a fucking turn-on. Ruffle it, tease it, squeeze it, twist it, fist it. It doesn't matter. I bloody love it all. It's even more arousing when Alyssa does it.

  I snatch her wrist and bring her hand to my lips, pecking the backside of it before I press it up against my inflating cock. "If you keep doing that to my hair, we will never get to talking."

  A blush creeps up to her cheeks. "Oh, sorry."

  I chuckle. "You don't ever have to apologize for turning me on."

  She brushes a few loose strands of hair out of her face. "It's five in the morning. I'm going to brew some coffee to keep myself up for our talk. Did you want anything? Some tea maybe?"

  "Just because I'm British doesn't mean I love to drink tea,” I rasp out on a chuckle.

  Her brow furrows as she purses her lips. "Well, don't you?"

  “Yes, but you shouldn't just assume—"

  "I'll make you some tea then," she cuts in.

  She swings the covers off her as she swivels her legs to the floor. I watch her naked arse sway as she sashays toward the door and unlocks it.

  I start to slide out of the covers. "I'll come with you."

  "No. If you do that, we'll end up having sex in the kitchen." Her tone is so matter-of-fact.

  I wiggle my brows and drop my voice to a low, seductive tone. "And what's wrong with that?"

  She laughs. "Well, it's not my kitchen."

  My lips turn down in defeat. "Fair point."

  "I'll be right back. Stay here and keep him covered." She points to my bulge underneath the sheets. I salute her as she vanishes from my view.

  A few minutes later, Alyssa comes back with two mugs conveniently shielding her succulent breasts from my hungry gaze. She hands me one as she slips back under the covers.

  I take a sip, allowing the warm liquid to course down my throat. I hum with approval. "Yorkshire Tea?"

  She nods. "It's your favorite, right?"

  My heart thumps with happiness. She remembers, and it means the fucking world to me that she does.

  A smile beams on my face, visible over the rim of the mug. "You remember?"

  "You're kind of hard to forget," she confesses on a wink. This must stop before my heart implodes in my chest.

  I shrug my shoulders. "So, where should we start?"

  She holds up the number one, signaling for me to hold on a second as brings her mug to her lips and takes a much-needed swig. She shifts her position until she is sitting upright, giving me an otherworldly view of her bare breasts. If she was planning to distract me, she succeeded.

  My gaze dips down at her perfect globes, and I instantly want to run my tongue over the taut nipples. She appears to notice my ogling of her tits because she pulls the blasted sheet up to cover them. Blimey!

  Our eyes lock, her earthy greens staring into my ocean blues. "I'll start you off with an easy one. When did you get Wyatt?"

  I bite my lip, trying to decide just how honest I am going to be when I answer that question. After some deliberating in my mind, I decide that I might as well answer each question with unabashed honesty. If I don't, then how can we give us a proper go?

  I take another sip of my tea before I answer. "I rescued him shortly after graduation. I was in a dark place and welcomed the distraction that raising a puppy would bring. He was six weeks old at the time I found him at the shelter. And once I laid my eyes upon him, I knew I wasn't going to leave there without him."

  I see her face drop when I mention the word graduation. It is comforting to see that it might be just as sore a topic for her as it is for me.

  "What a beautiful story. From what I saw, he seems to be very attached to you."

  I nod. "He's my world. Speaking of worlds, is Jack your son?"

  I catch her by surprise and nearl
y wear her coffee as she chokes on it. When her coughing attack subsides, she eyes me skeptically. What the hell is that about?

  She clears her throat and quirks a brow. "If he is, does that change anything?"

  I don't need time to think about my answer. The truth is, I want this woman. I always have. And the day she walked out of my life was the worst day of my life. I'd do anything to be with her again, even if that means potentially being a father to a child who isn't my own flesh and blood. I would love him regardless.

  "Absolutely not," I confess, dipping the tea bag in and out of the mug.

  The smile that stretches across her face is unlike any she's shown me before, past or present. It's freeing, giving off a certain kind of glow. It's as if I have lifted a giant burden off her shoulders and offered to carry it for her. "Good to know, but he's my nephew."

  My eyebrow perks. "Logan or Ethan?"

  Her mouth forms a lovely shaped O, not that different from the one she forms when her head lolls back and my name rolls off her tongue, just a more shocked version of it. "You remember my brothers?"

  I scoff. "How could I forget those wankers? Did you forget the intense and gruesome screening process they put me through? I still can't look at a jar of jam without wincing."

  Her whole petite frame shakes with mirth, causing both the ends of her hair and her tits to bounce freely. "Oh, I completely forgot about the Jelly Conundrum of oh-nine. They covered you in it from head to toe, and you still managed to stick around after that. I wouldn't have blamed you for leaving and not wanting to deal with those jesters."

  I lean in closer, causing her to gasp from my sudden closeness as I release a growl from deep within my chest. "I would've blamed me. You were worth every kilogram of jam. Still are."

  "Um, who's turn is it to ask the next question?" Her voice sounds breathy, and that turns me the fuck on. I love that I can still solicit these kinds of reactions from her. It gives me hope that this could actually work out. That life isn't just spinning me around by my balls.

  "Yours, darling," I murmur against the crown of her head as I kiss her.