by Maci Dillon
Chloe was my fucking date, but I was a pussy. I left when I should have fought for her. I picked up the phone yesterday and expected her to come running when I beckoned. I had no right, but still, she agreed to meet with me. I had no idea what she might expect. Should I tell her about Amanda and the separation or not?
It dawned on me I neglected to ask if she had a boyfriend.
Fuck.
She recently turned thirty. She might be married with six kids for the lack of information I had.
What the fuck was I thinking?
I wasn’t.
Obviously.
I willed my fists to relax at my side as I fought the urge to crush my teeth due to excessive grinding. What if the asshole is with her?
Like a wounded dog, I backed away from the entrance where I was standing ominously. I found a seat across the way in the beer garden of an old historical pub, where I kept her in perfect view.
I owed it to Amanda, to Chloe, and to myself to meet with her tonight. My marriage depended on it. One way or the other, Amanda deserved more from me.
And seeing Chloe right now, I was eager to learn if what I felt was reciprocated.
I shifted uneasily in my seat while doubt crept in from all directions.
Old feelings came rushing back with a vengeance. A love which never died but was swept away with time and circumstances I created.
Possession.
It ran through my veins like poison as I admired her from a distance.
She was my little one.
“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” I whispered to myself.
Deep down, desire stirred. Maybe closure wasn’t all I was looking for tonight after all. I couldn’t honestly fathom what I wanted or needed without confronting her.
I sat there and struggled to convince myself he was waiting for someone to arrive, and they were making small talk in the meantime. I elected to sit and wait.
And hope.
Hope is one overrated fucking emotion.
As I sipped on the same stale beer, I observed my woman link arms with the guy and walk out of the bar. For hours they talked, laughed, ate, and drank.
On our fucking date.
Quickly, I sprang to my feet, swallowed the last mouthful of lukewarm beer, and raced down the street unwilling to lose sight of them.
Fucking pussy!
My heart tugged at how comfortable they appeared together. Aside from a sense of familiarity, they’d done nothing to suggest they were together. At a distance, his admiration of her was evident, each glance filled with lust, but I couldn’t blame the guy.
Chloe is fucking gorgeous.
To his credit, he’d barely laid a finger on her all night, which admittedly piqued my interest.
I followed a good forty or so feet behind them like a hunter chasing the trophy prize. Desperately, I tried to ignore the voice in my head.
Stalker.
Who the fuck was I right now? This was not my style at all.
I was the confident guy people were jealous of.
Yet here I am.
Mr. Fucking Pathetic.
The further we walked, the more anxious I became. My heart thumped out of my chest, my jaw ached from clenching, and a crippling fear began to set in. If they disappeared into a hotel together, I’d lose her.
Again.
And with it, my chance to redeem myself and move forward with my life.
Momentarily, I paused in the street.
What if Chloe wasn’t seeking closure after all these years?
I craved Chloe’s forgiveness, but did she yearn for my apology?
Would my destitute position and need to close the door on this chapter of my life backfire in my face?
What if my quest for redemption and forgiveness for my asshole ways opened wounds for Chloe she would rather keep suppressed?
So many fucking questions and zero answers.
I wanted this opportunity to say all the things I should have all those years ago, but it was possible Chloe was grateful to escape me.
I have no clue who she is now or what she’s been doing with her life.
I’m a selfish prick.
I should have had the balls to visit her after the assault, even if she turned me away. Even if she pressed charges, it would have been worth it to find out once and for all.
My heart squeezed tight around the ball of regret permanently lodged there. Is it possible she thought the exact same way as me for all these years?
I should have fought for her.
Instead, I retreated with a broken heart after doing the unthinkable, the unforgivable. To save face, I pretended as if it meant nothing to me. I simply carried on with life. At least that’s how it appeared to others.
She didn’t deserve me in her life.
I believed I did the right thing by letting her go.
But what if it was the worst thing for both of us?
Tonight, she’d taken a chance on me, and I sat back in fear of losing what wasn’t even mine to begin with.
I didn’t fight.
I failed to even show up.
“Aargh.” A frustrated groan erupted from within me, the noise lost in the warm summer breeze. Suddenly, they stopped walking, and I darted quickly behind a sizable potted plant on the sidewalk, where I had full view of them, but they had no chance of spotting me.
Like the coward I am.
Chapter Eight
A Moment of Appreciation
“Appreciation can make a day, even change a life. Your willingness to put it into words is all that is necessary.” ~ Margaret Cousins
WILL
Appreciation.
An emotion I was happy to be acquainted with tonight.
It poured out of me in waves as Chloe disappeared through the doors of the building.
Alone.
Shortly after the suit-wearing douche walked off in the opposite direction, I made my way to the reception desk. Fingers crossed, charm factor set on high, I prepared to beg for something I had no right to.
When I reached the door to Chloe’s room on the third floor, I heard her scurrying around inside. Waiting a few moments, I willed my heartbeat to slow to a healthy pace and my nerves to stop encouraging the tiny beads of sweat that fell over the ends of my brow and down the side of my face.
When was the last time I was so fucking nervous, so not in control?
Yeah. Never.
The truth is, I’ve never encountered this feeling before. I’d put my heart on the line contacting her, stood her up, and now I have no idea what to expect when she opens the door to find me standing here.
Mentally, I pulled myself together while I ran my hand nervously over the thigh of my jeans to dry my sweaty palms. Fuck. How is it possible for a guy to sweat this much doing nothing?
On shaky legs, I took the required two steps toward the door. With my ear to the door, I listened. Glasses clinked together, and I hoped she had whiskey in the mini bar. I suddenly needed a drink like a kite needed the wind.
My knuckles rapped against the door, a piss-poor effort, barely audible. I continued until the action resembled a knock that demanded Chloe’s attention. My pulse skyrocketed again as footsteps grew louder as they moved toward me.
The door opened, and with it, every breath of air was stolen from my lungs. I stood there frozen and soaked up Chloe’s perfect curves accentuated by her way-too-revealing black dress.
My dick twitched as I imagined running my tongue over the soft mounds protruding from the neckline and down her delectable cleavage where the dress failed to provide cover.
An awkward silence hung in the air. I pulled my eyes from Chloe’s chest to her lips, the same heart-shaped lips I imagined wrapped around my dick every night as I fell asleep and every morning when I woke.
Her eyes went wide, stunned to find me at her door. I’m thankful she hasn’t thrown her glass at my head yet, so I take it as a win. But in the blink of an eye, her shock turned to anger, and it was difficult not to gl
ance away from the hurt and disappointment hidden in her cloudy blue eyes.
After a moment, her lips slightly parted, and her breathing increased—the rise and fall of her chest evident in her skimpy dress. Silently, I stood before her and witnessed the anger dissolve and flitter away.
What a magical moment.
I fucking loved how I still affected her, and the confident me, the real me, came flooding back. Finally, my eyes lifted to meet hers again, and my heart flip-flopped as she continued eye-fucking me.
Yeah, she was totally affected.
A smirk tugged at the corners of my mouth, and words I haven’t spoken in ten years slipped through my lips on a wave of emotion.
“Hi, little one.”
Chapter Nine
Element of Surprise
“If I could see the future and how this plays out, I bet it’s better than where we are now.” ~ Unknown
CHLOE
I tinkered around the tiny kitchenette area in search of a tumbler in desperate need of a nightcap and a shitty film. Thank fuck for Tex, or my night would have been hell. He kept me laughing and smiling while internally, I was tormented with insecurity. I felt raw and exposed. Gullible. A pawn in a cruel game.
Was this Will’s idea of a cruel joke? A plan to inflate his ego? Wait until I accepted the invitation, then sit back and laugh?
The Will I once loved would never do anything so cruel and deceitful, but I’ve no clue who the fuck Will is these days. Now, all alone, a whirlwind of emotion threatened to pull me into a crying mess.
As I poured a few fingers of tequila into a glass, my mind wandered to Tex. I pondered for a second or two whether I should call him, but he’d made it clear he wouldn’t come up to my room tonight. Maybe a good-night text wouldn’t hurt, though?
I reached for my clutch on the counter to find my phone and the business card he gave me.
I was startled to a stop by a knock at the door. I dropped my clutch and the card on the counter, took my glass, and sauntered toward the knocking which grew louder. Perhaps the gods agreed to be kind and throw me a sexy treat and prompted Tex with a change of heart.
I rolled my eyes at the ridiculous notion.
I was so not his type.
Boldly, I pulled open the door, and my heart screeched to a sudden halt.
Will.
My heart started back again and pounded hard at a dangerously excessive speed.
Thoughts sparked like rapid-fire in my brain.
Emotion flooded my bones.
Words escaped me.
I couldn’t tell the anger from surprise, the hurt from lust.
What the hell was he doing here?
How did he find me?
So many questions, yet words failed me as I continued to stare at him. After all these years, he was still fucking gorgeous. But it didn’t excuse the fact he stood me up. Anger took hold and ignited in my veins. Was he even going to speak?
Apologize?
Anything!
My mind was a fog. I couldn’t decipher one thought from the next.
My gaze traveled over his body and soaked up the reality of him standing at my door. I shouldn’t let him in. He played me. My hand on the door, I considered closing it in his face.
But two of my favorite words fell from his lips and permeated my soul.
Little one.
I pushed aside the way his words vibrated through my core.
Was he fucking serious?
How about sorry for being a cunt, playing with your head, and messing with your heart? Or hey, Chloe, I got caught up with work and was too fucking stupid to get out my phone and give you the heads-up?
“Will,” I acknowledged through clenched teeth, the only response he deserved. He didn’t warrant a welcome party, but fuck, I couldn’t take my eyes off him.
After all this time, how did he still affect me this way?
The years had been kind to him, exceptionally kind.
Every part of him was as I remembered, bar a few extra laugh lines and his rugged jawline. The way he wore his dark wavy locks pushed back off his forehead, the playfulness in his eyes, he was the same Will Jamieson I dreamed of each night.
My Will.
I anxiously pulled my lower lip between my teeth as I continued to blatantly undress him with my eyes, my irritation at his showing up here unannounced, hours late with a shitty hi quickly fell away, and lust and temptation took its place.
His dark denim jeans hung perfectly off his hips and covered the thighs of an ex-footballer who didn’t appear to have lost his frame. The top few buttons of his shirt remained open, which teased me with a glimpse of his still toned chest. I wanted to reach out and poke him to ensure I wasn’t dreaming.
But I didn’t. I stood statue-still, afraid to breathe in case Will evaporated into thin air. His proximity heated my core, and I hoped he felt it too. Our attraction was always palpable, and tonight was no different—like no time had passed at all.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Will?” I asked in a much too husky voice. I should be pissed, extremely pissed, but he was here and stood right here before me after all these years.
I stepped aside. I suddenly felt as if I were on uneven ground as he walked past me into my room and removed the glass of tequila from my hand on his way to the small kitchen area.
“How about I get us a drink?” He rounded the floating counter to where the mini bar was stocked full of all sorts of liquor. He pulled out a small bottle of Johnny Walker Red and emptied the contents into a glass.
I turned and closed the door behind me, quietly fighting the urge to slam it shut to show how pissed off I was. “I had a fucking drink until you invited yourself in.”
He eyed me suspiciously over the rim of his glass as he took his first sip and slowly pushed my confiscated drink along the counter toward me.
An invitation to come closer and take what I wanted.
My thoughts instantly went to the bedroom, my eyes quickly darted across the dimly lit room to the open door, and I sensed his gaze followed me.
We stood in semi-darkness, only a subtle glow coming from the living room lamp. Floor-to-ceiling windows stood bare across the center of the wall facing the street, the city lights filtered through, highlighted the simple furnishings, and set the mood for a romantic evening between long-lost lovers.
Or so I hoped.
I’m unsure what I’d expected before, but now he was here, I had trouble forming a sentence. Him being in my room tonight was never part of the plan.
I momentarily stared at the window while my mind wandered to a distant memory. My body shuddered slightly as I recollected the events of that night.
I was naked except for my heels. Will pushed up behind me and pressed my body against the cold glass window. He nudged my legs apart with his thigh to nestle in behind me, keeping my body pinned to the window. Goosebumps scattered over my body from the coolness of the glass on my already sweat-glistened skin. He pulled me by the hair, brought my head back to rest on his shoulder, and whispered in my ear, “I want you to watch me in the reflection, witness my face contort in pleasure as I ravish your gorgeous body for all the passers-by to see.”
I remembered it like it was yesterday.
We were on the second floor and faced the busy street where couples staggered past on their way home from their evening. They had a perfect view if they turned their heads to the left. And often, they did.
As unbelievable as the sex always was with Will, an audience intensified it tenfold.
“I love taking you this way, Chloe,” Will growled as he pushed his way inside my heat, and my legs threatened to give way at the sudden intrusion. “Behind you, deep inside of you, in complete control of your pleasure while still privy to your facial expressions staring back at me.”
He held my hands together over my head with one of his as he picked up his pace and settled into an exhilarating rhythm. When our first visitors rounded the corner, headed in our direction, Will li
fted my leg, supported it in the crook of his arm, and left my pussy fully exposed to the street.
I screamed with pleasure at how it opened me deeper for him which helped gather the attention of the small group walking by across the road. The top window above my head was open, and evidently, noise traveled well.
Their mouths dropped opened, and one of the girls giggled embarrassingly but was unable to turn away. I loved the conflict in their eyes—torn between the hidden desire to observe or keep walking to let us enjoy our moment.
Desire always won.
“You loved their eyes on you, little one,” Will rasped as his hand moved from mine to massage my clit. He knew exactly where I needed him. I moaned as his fingers teased my nerve endings until my entire body shook with my pending release. “Are you ready to come for me, baby? Show them how fucking hot you are when you come undone.”
“Fuck, yes, Will.” Always ready for him. Anything he wanted.
His fingers teased my swollen nerve endings, and my breath hitched, a weak attempt to warn off the impending orgasm fast approaching. I didn’t want it to end.
I smiled at the two guys standing across the street looking in, attempting to hide their growing erections. “Eyes on me, little one,” Will demanded, bringing me back to him.
Our eyes met in the reflection as he rocked mercilessly into me, reaching new depths with every stroke. My whimpers turned to groans, and the glass started to fog from the heat of my breath as Will added pressure to my clit, the swift circular motions caused new sounds to emerge from both of us as we neared our climax.
I shrieked with unrestrained pleasure as my body shook around Will’s, taking his pleasure with my own. I ripped my head back toward his and tilted my face to the side, and he took my lips, wild and passionately.
When the kiss broke and our breathing settled, I wiped the foggy part of the window to find an empty street. Our audience had left, but I’m certain they enjoyed the show.
As I pulled out and dropped my leg back to the floor with a quick rub to release any cramps, Will used his forefinger to draw a heart in the foggy patch on the window.
