His gaze dropped to the lace of her chemise where her nipples had hardened. He’d always loved her breasts, loved touching them, cupping them, kissing them. She debated pulling the chemise over her head, letting him view them unencumbered but decided the peep show might be more provocative. It felt strange to be deliberately leading him on, to have to seduce him. She shimmied out of her slacks and stepped out of them, leaving them in a heap on the floor beside her blouse. Seconds later, her thong rested on top of the pile.
One moment he was clutching the door frame, the next moment she was flattened against it, his thigh between her legs, holding her in place. His voice rasped as he asked, “What’s your game, Lauren?”
“I’m not playing a game, Chad.” Just doing a lousy job of seducing you.
He closed his eyes for just a second before meeting her gaze again. “So it’s just sex you’re looking for? You want to fuck and that’s it? Like an itch you want to scratch?”
We cared more about fucking than making sure Emily didn’t die, a tiny voice in the back of her head nagged. A voice she thought she’d long since banished. “I miss you. I miss us.”
His lips hovered centimeters above hers, his breath warm on her cheek, his eyes locked on her mouth. She expected him to lean down, to take charge, to kiss her. But he didn’t. Instead he held himself in check with a rigid control, as if he were fighting a battle. And winning.
“I don’t want just one night, Lauren. I want it all back again—us, the way we were. We both know that’s not going to happen.”
All her doubts crumbled into dust. He wanted her still. “We don’t know that.”
She tilted her chin and closed the distance between them until her lips brushed his. He didn’t move, letting her tongue slide against the seam joining them but not allowing her entry. She wouldn’t beg but if he wouldn’t accept her kiss, she’d find another way past his defenses.
Her hands flattened over his chest, seeking his shirt buttons. He didn’t move as she undid them one by one. His stomach muscles tensed when she parted the opening of his shirt and touched bare skin. She affected him, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. She was so close. If she could just convince him to let go, to give her a chance…she traced the curve of his stomach, up to his pectorals. Love me. Please.
As if she’d touched a switch, his body shuddered beneath her fingers. He drew a deep breath, then his lips captured hers, taking command of the kiss. His tongue swept over her lips as if he were sampling her, preparing to feast upon her. He adjusted the angle of his head; his chin rasped over hers, the heat of the razor burn rousing a lingering reminder of their lovemaking long ago.
This was what she’d remembered, what she’d dreamed of all these years. Wanted. Needed.
Yet he hadn’t touched her with anything but his mouth. She wanted his hands on her, all over her, every inch of his body touching hers. His chest, his stomach, his hips. More than the hard length of his thigh holding her in place.
Her hands slid around his waist in an attempt to pull him closer but he resisted her attempts. Damn it, if he wouldn’t come to her, she’d go to him.
She shifted until they were chest to chest, cradling his erection against her mound, relieved to feel the proof that he wanted her as much as she needed him. The pressure against her chest increased when he captured her wrists, dragged them over her head. God yes, like that. Take me hard and fast, the way I love.
Their combined breathing was heavy and harsh in the room as they stood there, panting. Waiting. The hell with waiting. She’d waited too long for this chance, she wasn’t going to let it slip away. Holding her breath, she ground her hips against his erection.
With a groan she felt to her toes, Chad dropped his head to her shoulder. His mouth sought out the spot beneath her ear, a spot he’d long ago learned connected straight to her pussy. His teeth nipped the spot, his tongue soothed the sting. Pain followed by pleasure. He repeated it. So hard and fast was out. Slow and easy was nice too.
Without warning, he straightened, releasing her. Instead of backing away, his fingers combed through her hair, one hand cupping the back of her head, holding her in place. “Tell me you don’t want this.”
“I can’t. I do want this.”
I want to go to bed with you lying beside me, knowing you’ll be there in the morning. I want to make you understand why I had to leave, take the pain away that I caused you. I want us. The way we once were. Before.
Before the photographers invaded their privacy. Before Emily’s death. If it hadn’t been for his hold on her, she would have swayed. Instead, she forced the guilt, the grief, back into their cubbyhole and slammed the door she’d created to hold them back.
With a gentle pressure, he pushed her to her knees.
“You know what I want.”
You can always come home. Second chances come a little harder.
A Forever Kind of Love
© 2011 Shiloh Walker
Chase and Zoe were the high school golden couple. Football captain, cheerleader, prom royalty. After graduation, though, Chase couldn’t resist the urge to experience life outside their small town. He didn’t exactly expect Zoe to wait twelve years for him, but now that he’s back, he finds some small part of him hoping she did.
It’s no big surprise she’s married. The kick in the face is she married his best friend.
Zoe was devastated when Chase left, but she’s filed those bittersweet memories under “Moved On”. She loves her life, and loves her husband. She has all she needs. And Chase keeps an honorable distance.
One cold, wet, miserable day, tragedy turns Zoe’s world upside down. Chase never expected her to simply fall into his arms, but a man can dream. Except his dream doesn’t include the fact that this time, she’s the one hitting the road…and he’s the one left behind.
Warning: This story contains heartbreak, heartache and one last chance for two lovers to find each other.
Enjoy the following excerpt for A Forever Kind of Love:
Staring at the bag of books, Chase tried to tell himself to just leave it on the porch and get back in his car.
Instead of doing that, which was probably the smarter thing, he knocked on the door. Hell, he knew Roger needed a distraction and he’d just gotten some new political thrillers in that were just up the guy’s alley—and two of them were audio books.
Zoe’s favorite urban fantasy author had a new book out.
Books were a nice distraction at any time, right?
It wasn’t like he didn’t have a good reason for swinging by.
Ever since he’d found out about Roger’s diagnosis, the petty anger he’d harbored against his friend… Well, Chase had realized just how fucking petty it was, and he’d shoved it straight where it needed to go, out of his heart, out of his mind.
They might never have the friendship they’d had in high school, but they were friends and right now, both Zoe and Roger needed all the friends they could get.
And Chase needed to be there for both of them as much as he could.
Besides, his dad was worrying about him too. Ever since Roger had turned in his resignation, the old man had come by as often as he could, but it was now re-election time and instead of visiting every couple of days, he could only get by once a week or so and Chase had promised he’d come by today.
All valid reasons.
Nobody needed to know it was a perfectly legit cover for him to be able to look at Zoe and soothe the ragged pain inside his heart, one that gotten worse ever since the time he’d laid eyes on her again in the city square a few months back.
He couldn’t help her.
She was going through something he couldn’t even imagine and he couldn’t do shit to help.
Except bring some books for Roger and offer to help out at her store as much as he could, and that didn’t count for much of anything. He couldn’t take this pain from her, he couldn’t fix Roger—as fucking jealous as he was, he’d fix the man in a heartbeat if it was in his
power, but he couldn’t.
All he could do was stand by and watch as two people he loved suffered.
The door swung open and the smile and speech he’d rehearsed faded away into nothing as he found himself staring at Zoe’s face.
“Chase, hi.”
Forcing himself to smile, he held out the bag. “Hey. Wanted to bring this by. And I promised my dad I’d come by and check on things.”
She might have barred him from coming in but he edged past her, forcing her to back up unless she wanted him brushing up against her. Which she didn’t—Chase was fully aware of the extreme care she took not to let him touch her. The door closed behind them and he turned to study Zoe’s face.
She looked tired.
Still so fucking beautiful it made his heart ache just to look at her, but tired. Like she could sleep for a week.
Tired and frazzled and frustrated.
He felt like a major prick because he wanted to offer to hold her for the entire week.
Her husband’s dying, man. Remember him? Guy used to be your best friend? Still is your friend?
“How are you?” he asked.
“I’m fine.” She gave him a practiced, completely false smile.
“Bullshit.” He dropped the bag on the table centered under a mirror and folded his arms over his chest, studying her face. “Don’t hand me the line you hand people in your store, people at church, whoever. I know you too well. How are you, really?”
She lifted a golden brow at him. “Chase, you don’t really me that well. Not anymore.”
“Don’t I?” He reached out and tucked her hair behind one ear. “When was the last time you watched Old Yeller?”
She scowled at him.
“Still reading the Valdemar books? How many copies you gone through now?”
She tucked her hands into her pockets and rocked back on her heels. “Things like that aren’t exactly knowing me.”
“Hmm. How about this? You’re pissed off. You’ve been riding on nerves and caffeine for a while, but today, you’re pissed off and you just want to hit something.”
Something flashed in her eyes, but she remained silent.
“What set you off?”
“Nothing.” Her voice was low and flat.
“Nothing? You sure about that, princess?”
There it was again…a flash of fire, hot and angry.
“Come on, surely there’s something. Your panties are in a twist over something.” He slanted a look toward the bedroom she shared with Roger. Jealousy twisted his gut, but he kept his voice easy and light as he said, “It’s got to be rough, where you’re at right now. No way to burn off that anger, that stress, that…”
He saw it coming, but he didn’t bother to move.
His head snapped back from the force of her blow and even as the pain bloomed, he grinned at her. She stared at him, shock written all over her face. “Feel better?”
Zoe gaped at him. “You…what…”
Edging past her, he went to the mirror and peered at his mouth. He tasted blood. “Damn, you’ve got a good right hook there, Zoe.”
Seducing Allie: Seattle Steam, Book 3 Page 22
