Relapse

by J. P. Nicholas

  "Mission accomplished," he says with a grin, running his hands over my now uncovered knee.

  When I finally compose myself and stop laughing, I wince. "How bad does it look, Doc?"

  He sighs. "Well, it's hard to see beyond all the blood."

  "What?" I yell, my voice portraying my utter shock. "It's bleeding?"

  "Absolutely…not a drop."

  I swat his shoulder as he stands up, nearly knocking him back down again. Apparently, he didn't expect that kind of a reaction from me.

  "You're a jerk," I say playfully.

  Both his brows rise on his forehead as he guffaws. "It's just an ugly bruise. But I can kiss it and make it all better if you want."

  I want him to kiss so many parts of my body right now, but my knee is not one of them. I poke a finger at his chest. "What are you doing here anyway? We both agreed to be professional and inconspicuous at work, remember?"

  He drags a frustrated hand through his hair as he releases a long breath. "I know. I just wanted to see you. You're a real natural, you know."

  I smile at his compliment. "Really? You think so?"

  He nods. "Absobloodylutely!"

  "Well, don't make this a habit of yours. Besides, don't you have a class to teach?"

  He shakes his head as he leans in closer to me, eradicating the distance between us until his arousal is pressed up against my hipbone. "Not until ten, Cherub.”

  I glance at the clock and grin wickedly. "It's seven past ten, Johnny English."

  He feigns offense as he puts a hand to his muscular chest. "Whoa, wait a tic. I'm more of a James Bond kind of bloke."

  I arch a brow. "Are you?"

  He nods in an exaggerated manner. "Damn right I am."

  "Well, Mr. Bond, need I remind you that you're late for class?"

  A smile beams across my face as the recollection dawns on his handsome face. "Oh, shite! I've got to go. See you tonight?"

  I don't answer, letting his words linger in the air as he bolts out the door and into the hallway. I don't care what he says; he may look and sound like James Bond, but that run can only be described as a classic Johnny English move.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Darren

  Today has officially been the longest fucking day of my life. Ever since I left Alyssa's classroom, time seems to have slugged on at a treacle-like pace. This semester may not have started off on the best foot. Granted, I've been kind of distracted lately, and I was nearly twenty minutes late to my first class.

  But that's not entirely my fault. Not when she's all I could think about all day. Her lavender and vanilla scent embedded in my memory along with the way her arse looked in that sinful skirt of hers. I wanted to shag her on her goddamn desk this morning. It took heavy restraint on my part to prevent from doing so. And for that reason, I probably won't be stopping by her classroom anymore. I just can't trust myself around her.

  During my lunch break, I shot her a text, asking her if I can see her again tonight. She didn't answer per-se, but she did send me back a place and time. Charge Beach. Eleven-thirty. I know that time too well, that's Ms. Abney's bedtime. When all the lights go out in her house, and the risk of her fabricating stories about our relationship is no longer a threat. Would I much rather take a romantic stroll on the beach while the sun is setting? Sure. But is that a realistic possibility? No, not yet. Hopefully, one day it will be. When our relationship is no longer being kept a secret.

  Later that night, I take Wyatt along for the stroll. Since I haven't been spending as much time at home lately, Wyatt and I haven't spent any quality time together that wasn't a part of our morning jogs. It's eleven o'clock at night when Wyatt and I leave my house and head toward the beach.

  As soon as we step foot onto the sand, Wyatt spots something, probably a crab, and decides to chase it. He barks as he sprints toward the unidentified creature, kicking up sand with his paws.

  "Watch it, mate. You're getting sand all over me," I reprimand, brushing sand off my navy shorts. Wyatt continues to chase various creatures, ceasing his barking as he leans closer toward the ground, taking a stealthier approach. Since this technique doesn't cause a sandstorm to whirl at me, I approve of his new tactic.

  I stare out at the horizon and the moonlight beams across it, illuminating a section of the mysterious dark saltwater. In another life, maybe I would've joined the Royal Navy. With my fascination with the sea and swimming, it would make sense. Too bad my father would never have allowed it. As the breeze flows through my hair, tossing it in every direction, I close my eyes and imagine myself on a ship in the middle of the ocean. The waves cause me to sway back and forth, rocking me in a patterned fashion. The sea and I have a lot in common, now that I think about it. The ocean's relentless; it never gives up, and neither do I. Well, that's not entirely true. The only thing I ever gave up on was my relationship with Alyssa. She told me not to follow her, and I stupidly listened, thinking that I was respecting her wishes. I was, but I shouldn't have. I should have fought like Hell to bring her back to me. To prevent her from walking out of my life. Thankfully, life has miraculously given me a second chance. Allowing me to right my wrong. To fix my mistake. And to make her mine again.

  "Hey there, Union Jack." Her sweet voice brings me out of my stupor. She pounces on me from behind, wrapping her legs around my waist as she raises her arms to loop around my neck. Wyatt must sense the intrusion because he stops splashing in the ocean to turn around and growl at Alyssa.

  "Calm down, Wyatt. This is Alyssa; remember her?"

  Wyatt stops growling as he squints his eyes to regard her. He wags his tail as he nods his head in recollection. Seeming content knowing I'm not actually being attacked, Wyatt goes back to dipping his paws in the ocean.

  Alyssa points forward as she commands me to start walking. "Onward!"

  I scoop up her legs, bracing them with my forearms in order to safely secure her position on my back. When I'm reassured that she won't slip from my grasp as I walk, I march in the direction away from town. I carry her for a quarter of a mile before she breaks the silence.

  "Oh, shit, I dropped my flipflop."

  I gently lower her onto the sand and bend down to retrieve her flipflop before Wyatt beats me to it. I brush the sand off it before I hold out my hand to her. "Give me the other one."

  She furrows her brow as she scrunches her nose. She's too fucking adorable. My cock thinks so too as he starts to inflate. "Why?"

  I draw my brows together. "Why else? Because I want to carry them for you."

  "Want to, or feel like you have to?" she fires back, not missing a beat.

  "I want to." She eyes me skeptically, considering whether or not she wants to believe my intention. I assume she does when she shrugs off my comment.

  "Fine. Here you go." Alyssa takes off her remaining flipflop and hands it over to me. As I snatch it from her, I wrap my arm around her waist and tug her into my right side.

  "That's much better," I declare, leaning down to press a kiss to her temple.

  Wyatt follows us as we walk, keeping his distance to give us some privacy. Have I mentioned that my dog is bloody brilliant?

  I don't loosen my grip on her as we strut down the sand, walking parallel to the waves colliding with the shore. I like having her this close to me. It gives me a sense of joy and belonging. I've felt incomplete for so long that it's strange to feel whole again. But now that she's here by my side, I don't ever want to let her go.

  I keep trying to remind myself that I must be careful this time around. But when she's around, the past is all too easy to forget. I can't let my guard down completely, and as much as that pains me, I cannot let myself be blindsided again. No, not like last time. Something about this time seems different, though. Feels different. It feels like a second chance, a new beginning, and a continuation of the love I lost so long ago, all wrapped up into one.

  "Hey, gorgeous?"

  I force us to stop walking when I stop moving my feet. Alyssa cranes
her neck to look up at me, her green eyes full of intrigue. "Yeah?"

  "Why did you go to New York?"

  On an instinct, Alyssa gnaws on her bottom lip. She does that when she's deep in thought. I didn't think this question would be so thought-provoking, but I guess I was wrong.

  She uses her hand to brush her wind-blown hair out of her face. "That depends."

  I arch a brow. "On what exactly?"

  She clicks her tongue before she responds. "Well, are you asking me why I chose to go to New York of all places? Or is that just a costume you draped over the question you really want to ask me?"

  Intrigued, I decide to play along. "And what question might that be?"

  "Why I left you."

  I scoff. "I think you made that perfectly clear when you left. I can recite the entire spiel if you want, but to summarize, you basically said I changed, and you didn't love the man I had become."

  Her eyes dip to the sand; I follow them and notice she is nervously dragging her big toe through it, drawing a zig-zag pattern. I place a finger under her chin and tilt it upward until her eyes meet mine again.

  "Hey, it's alright. What's done is done. There is no need to dwell on past decisions. The important thing is that you're here now, and you're not going anywhere."

  Her lip twitches, which used to be a tell that she is keeping something from me, but does it still mean that now? I hope not. I should pry and ask her about it, but I'm not sure I want to. It could ruin what we have now. And that's something I sure as Hell don't want to do.

  "At least answer me this: are you here to stay?"

  A soon as she opens her mouth to respond, Wyatt sticks his snout in the air and sniffs, barking obnoxiously as he bolts down the beach.

  "Wyatt! Come back here!" I shout, chasing after him.

  I hear Alyssa's footsteps treading behind me as the pace of my heartbeat quickens. What is he up to? This is very peculiar behavior for him. Wyatt never runs just for the hell of it, and he never disobeys one of my commands. Ever! This is unprecedented territory, and I don't much care for it.

  When I catch up to my best mate, I realize why he ran. He is no longer barking, but rather, he cocks his head and stares at a bale of sea turtles digging their way out of the barricaded nest. For a few minutes, the three of us just watch as the baby sea turtles slide across the sand. That is until some of them start going the wrong way.

  "Oh, no! They’re going the wrong way!" Alyssa squeals, clearly terrified for them.

  Without wasting any more time, I pull out my mobile, click on the flashlight, and shine it toward the ocean. I hand it to Alyssa. "Here, hold this. I'm going to go turn those ones around."

  She takes the mobile from me, being careful to still direct the beam toward the water. I carefully trek my way to the disoriented baby turtles and gently turn each of them around, one by one. Once turned around, they head toward the light. The tension in my shoulders eases as I release a heavy breath on an exhale.

  "Darren Gracen, the Sea Turtle Savior. Who would've thunk it?" Alyssa giggles, the joyous and infectious sound reminding me just how much I fucking love hearing it. It's even better when I'm its instigator.

  Alyssa claps when all the sea turtles safely make their way into the ocean. "Yay! They all get to live a long life now. Take that, stupid birds!"

  It's so cute; I don't have the heart to tell her that it's not necessarily true. So, I bite my tongue and decide to let her have this one. A moment of pure joy and accomplishment.

  She kicks the sand in front of her to celebrate, causing it to land in Wyatt's coat. "Oh, Wyatt, I'm so sorry."

  I wave my hands in the air with frustration. "Yeah, apologize to him. I'm just the poor bloke who's going to have to bathe him later."

  At the mention of the word bathe, Wyatt's snout shifts in my direction. Fuck, I've said the b-word. I pinch the bridge of my nose as Wyatt shakes his head and tail repeatedly.

  Alyssa comes over to me and gives me a hug.

  "I'm sorry, Darren. But I bet I can make it up to you." She wags her brows suggestively, causing my dick to perk up with excitement.

  I flash her a mischievous grin. "Is that so?"

  She poises herself on her tiptoes to press her lips against mine, kissing me as she hums. "Mmmhmm."

  The kiss starts off PG-13, that is until her lips part, allowing me to sweep inside and savor her. I slide my arms up her, starting from the hips, and not stopping until I lace them through her silky-smooth hair. She moans in my mouth as I massage her tongue with mine. My tongue is a greedy bastard, sliding across every nook and cranny until he gets the full taste of her sweetness.

  "So fucking sweet," I mumble around her tongue.

  She grinds her sex against mine, desperately seeking more friction. I want to give her what she wants. Hell, it's what I want too, but not here. Not now. She's too good for beach sex. Besides, I'd rather not scar Wyatt any more than Declan and Kelsie already have. I'm sure watching his best mate shagging would be far worse.

  I'm very close to giving in to my predator instincts, so I have to end this now before it's too late. I retreat from her mouth and pry my lips off hers. A smirk forms on my face when her lips turn down, producing that gorgeous pout of hers.

  "Sorry, Cherub. But I'd rather not shag you here," I confess, hoping it provides her with a decent explanation as to why the fuck I stopped something that felt so damn good.

  I step back, increasing the distance between us. Then, a downpour begins. The sky is angry, and it appears to be taking its fury out on us. The heavy rainfall pelts against our skin. Alyssa screams and Wyatt howls, but I just laugh and shake my head in disbelief.

  Alyssa shoots me a what-the-fuck-is-wrong-with-you glare. It's too fucking cute when she's confused. Instead of offering her another explanation, I stretch a hand out to her. "Can I have this dance, My Lady?"

  She shakes her head as she scoffs. "Absolutely not. You're insane."

  I take a step closer and bow properly. My mum would be so proud. "Please?"

  She rolls her eyes and sighs as she gently places her hand in mine. "Fine."

  I slide my fingers between hers, interlacing them so she can't escape too easily. I skim my fingers around her waist and rest my hand in the crook of her back. I pull her closer until we are mere millimeters apart. I can feel her breath against my chest as I begin to sway. Our eyes lock, and despite the raindrops, neither one of us breaks eye contact.

  We continue to dance. Left. Right. Twirl. Left. Right. Dip. Repeat. On the last dip, I can hear my own heartbeat as it pounds hard in my chest. I open my mouth to speak but refrain myself from doing so. She's not ready yet.

  "Be mine again," she pleads on a breathy murmur that shakes me to my core.

  I smile as I bend down to whisper in her ear. "Darling, I never stopped being yours."

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Aly

  If it wasn't already official, it sure is after last night. Darren Gracen is officially my boyfriend…again. Secretly, of course. My head is still whirling from shock. I didn't expect to blatantly ask him last night, but I did. I didn't think I was ready to give our relationship a title, but evidently, I was. I know; I'm just as surprised as you are. Hell, we haven't even gone on our first official date yet; that's on the agenda for tonight.

  You'd think after last night's chain of events, I would've gotten my world rocked last night. Well, I'll let you in on a little secret, you'd be wrong! After our dance under the stars, or in actuality, under the dark rain clouds that spewed their tears down on us, Darren walked me home and gave me a very promising goodnight kiss. But that was all it was…a kiss. After that toe-curling kiss, he just headed home with Wyatt. Maybe his dog is the reason, and if so, what a frickin' cockblocker. I have nothing against Wyatt, other than the thought that he might be the reason I had to roll my own marble to release some sexual tension last night. If I had balls, they'd sure as hell be blue right now.

  I can't stop replaying his words in my mind. Darlin
g, I never stopped being yours. It sounds like a line straight out of a romantic comedy. I can picture Jennifer Lopez's reaction as her hunky male costar, perhaps Ryan Gosling, lets the words roll off his tongue. It's so swoon-worthy, and maybe a little cliché, but I frickin' loved hearing him whisper it in my ear. Especially in that knee-weakening accent of his. God, I'll never tire of hearing him speak. He could narrate the phone book and still manage to give me a huge lady-boner.

  His words still echo in my mind throughout the day. During lunch. During all five of my classes for the day. I'm daydreaming of him while I guide my students to think strategically with their designated country's best interests in mind. I didn't give him permission to invade my every thought, but he does it anyway. Effortlessly, I might add.

  What is up with my infatuation with him lately? I chalk it up to the pent-up sexual frustration that I hope he sucks from me tonight, pun very much intended. I want his devious tongue circling my clit. She throbs at the thought, the ruthless bitch.

  Earth to Aly. Did you forget that you left him? You left him. A soon as the thought crosses my mind, guilt stabs at my core, rotting me from the inside out. That's when I force myself to remember why I left in the first place. He changed, and I still don't have the slightest idea why. Why the hell didn't I think to ask him that question the other night? Oh, that's right, because he fucked me senseless. And after that, when our pillow talk started to turn into a deep conversation, he started to water my willow. That's when the realization hits me. The British bastard tricked me! Using his masterful tongue to distract me from my thoughts. Now if I can just remember what we were talking about right before his foul play.

  I rack my brain for information, but it's no use. Crap! Why has my memory been so shitty lately? My phone vibrates in my pocket, disembarking me from my train of thought. I retrieve it from my pocket and glance at the screen. As suspected, it's a text, but it's not from Darren. I swipe across the screen and enter my passcode to view the entirety of the message.