Kismet: A Serendipity Novella

by Carly Phillips

  “I miss some things more than others,” he said in a deep voice.

  Taking her off guard, he moved around her and wrapped his arms around her waist. His front pressed into her back and he cuddled her in his embrace, a feeling that made her feel so safe and secure that warning bells went off in her head.

  But she couldn’t bring herself to heed them. His warm breath fanned across her neck while his impressive erection pulsed against her backside, as together they looked over the brightly lit city.

  God, she’d dreamed about this.

  About the day he’d come back for her and make everything right in her world. Except then she’d been a naïve young woman, despite her pregnancy, still too much of a teenager to understand what she’d done to her life. She was a woman now and knew better than to put stock in adolescent dreams, but for this one night and maybe tomorrow, he could be hers again. Nobody would begrudge her some new and better memories to keep with her on lonely nights.

  Not wanting to waste a second more, she turned, looping her arms around his neck and looking into his eyes. “Kiss me,” she said, deciding to take what she desired—and what he obviously wanted as well.

  Trevor had been worried she’d come to her senses and change her mind, so he didn’t need a second invitation now. Cupping her face in his hands, he backed her against the plate glass windows and kissed her long and hard, so deeply she couldn’t mistake his desire. He swept his tongue inside her mouth and everything in his world righted itself once more. He teased her, brushing his tongue back and forth, relearning her touch, her taste, her scent, the way she felt.

  Back when they were kids, they’d spent hours kissing as though nothing else mattered and they had all the time they’d ever want together. Though he knew better now, he could still kiss her for hours. Only her.

  With other women, he’d rush through the foreplay and get to the deed because, ironically, he’d always found the preliminaries more intimate, more telling about someone’s feelings. Post-Lissa, knowing he’d closed his emotions off, he’d made it his mission to arouse his partner quickly and leave her satisfied, but with no question that he wasn’t lingering before or after. The women he was with knew the score. It was a reputation he’d perfected, and though he wasn’t proud of it, at least he was honest.

  He was equally so now. He began to thrust his tongue deeper into her mouth, mimicking the act his hardened body craved with near desperation. Lissa moaned and hooked one leg around his, arching her pelvis into him and pulling him tighter against her. The small circles she made with her hips drove him insane and the barrier of clothing nearly killed him.

  Still kissing her, with one hand he reached for the side zipper of her gown and eased it down as far as he could manage. With the other, he yanked the silky material off her shoulder.

  She wiggled her upper body and the entire gown pooled around her on the floor. Needing the visual, he finally broke the kiss and stepped back to admire her, but no sooner had they separated than she reached up to cross her arms and cover herself.

  “Uh-uh.” He grabbed her wrists and pulled them away from her body. “Keep them down there,” he said in a voice he barely recognized.

  She’d always had gorgeous, voluptuous breasts and that hadn’t changed. He brushed his thumb over her already distended nipple and she let out a sound, half sigh, half groan as it hardened even more beneath his fingertip. Then he did the same to the other breast. A brief touch and it, too, puckered for him.

  Trevor grinned. “Still so damned sensitive.”

  “And yet you’re taking your time and torturing me,” she said in a shaky voice.

  “I’m savoring you.” Her entire body trembled but he wasn’t finished. Before she could react again, he cupped her full breast in his hand and lifted it to his waiting mouth.

  Her skin smelled like peaches and she tasted sweeter than he remembered. He savored one nipple thoroughly, nipping, teasing, blowing cool air over the puckered tip before moving to the other one and giving it the same care. By the time he was finished, her head was thrown back against the window, her hips bucking forward seeking relief.

  His dick felt as if it would shatter at any moment and for him, this part of the foreplay was over. “Bed, sweetheart?” He held out his hand.

  She looked at him with glazed eyes and nodded, placing her hand inside his. He helped her step out of the dress surrounding her and realized she still wore high-heeled crystal-looking sandals, a matching pair of panties ... and nothing more.

  Her stomach, while not flat, fit with the rest of her curves and he wondered how he’d gone so long without feeling her surrounding him, becoming a part of him.

  He led her to the bedroom, aware she was naked and uncomfortable but doing her best not to show it. As soon as they reached the bed, he stripped off his clothes, not wanting to wait another second to feel the heat of her skin flush against his. But when she reached to remove her sandals, he shook his head.

  She narrowed her gaze. “Seriously?”

  He grinned. “What can I say? It’s been a fantasy of mine, fucking you while you’re wearing nothing but endlessly high heels.”

  “You fantasized about me?” she asked, sounding well and truly shocked.

  His heart nearly stopped but the admission was out there. “Nobody else has ever done it for me the way you do.”

  She opened her mouth and he used the opportunity to settle his naked body over hers and stop any further conversation. They’d have to talk, but it wasn’t happening now.

  He let his weight ease against her, gritting his teeth as he came into contact with her damp heat. “Oh, baby.” He cupped her hips in his hand and ground himself against her.

  “You don’t play fair,” she murmured, her arms coming around him.

  “Why? Because I don’t want to talk anymore?” He braced his hands on either side of her and buried his face between her neck and shoulder, first merely kissing her, then using his teeth, tugging hard until she moaned and bucked beneath him.

  “I don’t want to talk, either.” She bent her legs, making room for him. “I need you inside me.”

  He lifted his head and looked into her eyes, dying for exactly the same thing. “Do I need protection?”

  She shook her head, her pretty green eyes wide and glassy. “I’m on the pill.”

  His body trembled at the thought of entering her bareback.

  “You?” she asked.

  “I’m safe. I’ve never had sex without one,” he assured her. He’d only asked now because it was Lissa, and more than anything he wanted to feel all of her when he was finally inside her again.

  She drew a deep breath. “Well you don’t have to worry about me, either. It’s been so long I’ll be lucky if I remember how,” she said, forcing a laugh he knew she didn’t feel.

  He brushed her tangled hair off her cheek. “Nobody since your divorce?” he asked her, surprised yet oddly pleased.

  She bit her lip before finally speaking. “Nobody since not long after my marriage.”

  Trevor ignored the thrill the admission brought, knowing it was selfish to be happy she’d been so alone, yet pleased she hadn’t been with anyone but him and the ex he refused to think about.

  Lissa sighed. “After the divorce I dated one guy—you might remember Russ Mason—but I couldn’t bring myself to be with him that way.”

  Trevor hated talking about any other men, but he knew it was necessary. He cocked an eyebrow in question.

  “Just no desire.” She blushed, but he appreciated her honesty and kissed her cheek. “Anyway, the relationship ended quickly after that. Russ thought I was frigid and frankly, I didn’t care.” She lifted her shoulder in a delicate shrug.

  Unable to hold it in, Trevor barked out a laugh.

  “What’s so funny?” She frowned at him.

  “Any guy who thinks you’re frigid must need lessons. You’re so hot you’re burning me alive,” he told her, meaning every word. “Watch.”

  Dipping hi
s head, he licked at first one nipple, then the next. Those rosy peaks were quickly becoming his favorite part of her because she was so damned responsive. One touch and she grew immediately slick and wet, which he intended to show her. As he reached down and slid his finger through her moist folds, her hips arched up and into him, seeking deeper penetration.

  “Soon,” he promised her. First he came up with the proof to back up his claim. “See? So not frigid.”

  Her genuine smile nearly undid him. Her words finished the task. “It’s you, Trev. It’s always been you.”

  Unable to hold back any longer, he raised himself over her. “I can’t promise slow and easy,” he said, apologizing ahead of time.

  “Then it’s a good thing hard and fast suits me just fine.” She clasped his erection in her hand, rubbing her fingertip over the moisture pooled at the tip.

  He gritted his teeth, nearly coming from the intense pleasure of her touch as she guided him toward her slick heat. Only when he was poised at her entry did she release her hold so he could ease his aching shaft inside her.

  She was tight and hot and he tried desperately to at least start slowly.

  “You promised you wouldn’t take it slow.” She rocked her lower body and snapped the last of his self-control.

  It hadn’t been difficult to do. Even though he’d tried not to let himself remember them or consciously think of her, he hadn’t lied when he’d said she was and remained his greatest fantasy.

  Chapter Four

  Lissa didn’t do sex without emotion. Even the one time, when she’d conceived her daughter, she’d been an emotional mess because she was seventeen, turning eighteen in a few months, tipsy, hurt, and filled with the knowledge that Brad wasn’t Trevor. Though she often came off hard and edgy to the outside world, inside she was one big mush afraid of being hurt.

  Despite the easy banter with Trevor, despite her self-made promise to hold on to her heart, the minute he entered her, filling her body in the way only he ever had, he broke down her walls and she knew she’d have one hell of a time putting them back up.

  “Okay, sweetheart?” He paused to let her body accommodate him, the strain of holding back showing in his face.

  So did the play of emotions in his expression telling her he felt it too—the fusing of their bodies with no barrier between them. He was marking her and she feared she’d never be the same.

  “I’m good,” she said, concentrating on feeling, not thinking. And he felt incredible, hot and thick inside her. “You won’t hurt me.” To encourage him, she lifted her head and pulled his earlobe into her mouth, teasing and tugging with her teeth.

  With a groan, he released the hold he’d been keeping and began a steady thrust inside her. Her mind fogged. Her body pulsed, a wave of pleasure rose inside her and she reached out to grab it, to meet and match his rhythm, but the shoes and their spiked heels held her back, preventing her from digging her feet into the mattress for purchase.

  She moaned in frustration, her body in desperate need of more than the delicious glide of his hard erection deep into her. She needed to feel him slam into her, to make her his.

  As if he knew and understood, he changed his position slightly and adjusted his motion, twisting his hips each time his body connected with hers. That did it. Every thrust brought his pubic bone down hard against just the right spot and he took her higher with each successive plunge deeper inside her. Braced on his arms, he stared into her eyes, watching her as he possessed her—body, mind, and soul.

  Frantic to hold onto some semblance of self, to hold something back from him, she closed her eyes and—the delicious movement ceased.

  He stopped moving completely.

  Lissa cried out, digging her nails into his shoulders, urging him on.

  “Not until you look at me,” he said, his tone harsh.

  She forced her eyelids open and met his dark, sexy gaze. “I hate you,” she muttered.

  “No, you just wish you did.” And then he began to make love to her once more.

  He played her body as though he knew it intimately, taking her higher as he grew impossibly bigger and harder, powering into her with deep, heavy thrusts. She was wet, she was needy, and he satisfied every craving she had, the waves of desire rising higher in her body.

  Yeah, she’d had self-induced orgasms over the years, but they paled in comparison to having this man in control. He slowed when she neared completion, letting her body wind down only to hammer home harder again, building her need and promising a spectacular climax he kept just out of reach.

  She whimpered, raising her hips, clenching him tighter inside her, holding onto him until the slick moisture of their connection sounded in the room, an erotic accompaniment to the music they were already making together.

  Warmth, heat, and a sweet bombardment of sensations swept through her at lightning speed, growing in intensity, the ultimate prize almost within reach.

  “Come, sweetheart, because I sure as hell am.” With that, he thrust deep and up high, twisting his hips and taking her exactly where she wanted to be.

  Lissa came right then, her body so in tune with him she exploded on command. She screamed, bucking against him as the most amazing sensations rocked her world. Suddenly, he tensed above her and shouted her name, his muscles clenching, his hips continuing a pump and grind that sent her body into another round of mini detonations that seemed never to end.

  He collapsed on top of her, breathing hard, and she savored his weight and the warmth of his damp skin. “I may never recover,” she said, only half joking.

  “Me neither.” With a grunt, he rolled over and she felt the loss of contact too keenly. He leaned over and pressed a quick kiss on her lips before rising and heading into the bathroom.

  She rid herself of her sandals just as he returned, not giving her a chance to decide whether to dress and get out quickly or succumb to the urge to wrap herself in his arms and fall asleep.

  Still naked, he climbed in beside her and pulled her into his embrace. That answered that question, she thought, and snuggled in. Neither spoke, and to her amazement, she didn’t feel the need or the absence of conversation. His actions spoke volumes and she wanted to enjoy the time she had left.

  Not wanting to dwell on the inevitability of their parting, she forced herself to operate as she always did when falling asleep. She turned her mind to work and deadlines. As far as Trevor was concerned, her story was nearly complete. She had already researched his background beyond what she knew personally. And between watching him in the office, spending an evening with him at a fundraiser, and then being given a first-hand view of his apartment, she possessed a broad glimpse into other facets of Trevor as a man. A few more specific questions would fill out the missing pieces.

  As she went through things in her mind, she was acutely aware of his breathing and knew the minute he fell asleep, his hold on her loosening only slightly, his breaths coming deeper and more evenly. She relaxed into his rhythm, letting exhaustion claim her.

  Her body was sated, her eyelids were already growing heavy, and her last thought before drifting off was of how easily she could get used to falling asleep in his arms.

  *

  Trevor couldn’t bring himself to move. An early riser with no need for an alarm clock, he had never put in blackout shades, preferring to wake up on his own or, on the occasions he slept in, to the warm sun on his face.

  This morning, his internal clock woke him and he immediately became aware of two things: Lissa was in his bed, her warm, naked body draped over his; and it was Saturday and there wasn’t any place he had to be. Nothing to interrupt something he’d dreamed about since he was sixteen.

  Waking up with this woman in his arms.

  He was hard and he couldn’t attribute it to a typical morning. Not when one female thigh was slung over his and the scent he now associated with her filled every breath.

  He nuzzled beneath her jaw and licked the skin along her neck. She moaned softly, coming awake
slowly, so he continued to nibble at her skin, taking his time as she became aware.

  “Trev?” she asked in a sleepy voice.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Expecting someone else?” he asked, laughing.

  She didn’t lift her head or meet his gaze. “You feel good,” she murmured.

  “So do you.” He closed his eyes, wondering how to make this last longer than the course of the interview.

  He didn’t bring women home often and when he did, they didn’t sleep over. It didn’t matter whether or not he had to drive them home, he never wanted to wake up with someone he’d have to politely get rid of the next day.

  When it came to Lissa, he never wanted to let her go.

  Before he could continue with that train of thought, a noise sounded from the other room, muted but still clear enough to be heard. “Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mummy. Mummy. Mum. Mum ...”

  “What the hell is that?” he asked as Lissa popped out of his arms.

  “My cell,” she said. “It’s my daughter’s text message alert. It’s Stewie from Family Guy.”

  Nude, she rose from the bed, distracting him from the obvious—the reminder of her daughter. But suddenly she glanced at the uncovered windows and then at him, her cheeks red.

  Personally, he could look at her all day. “I have a T-shirt in the top drawer.” He gestured to a wooden chest and she shot him a grateful look.

  A few seconds later, her gorgeous body was covered in an oversized white shirt that was sheer enough to allow him a thrill but made her more comfortable as she headed into the other room, returning with her small purse.

  And that quickly, reality resurfaced. He was no longer in the solitary bubble he’d created for the two of them, and for the first time since laying eyes on her yesterday, the old wounds and sharp pain sliced him in the chest once more. But he was also able to remind himself that the pain was a decade old, and that was a first.

  She pulled out her phone. “Olivia—I call her Livvy—is at her father’s for the weekend,” Lissa said as she hit some buttons, obviously looking at the text message. “Or not.” She let out a groan.