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Second Chance with Brother's Best Friend: A Single Mom Secret Baby Romance

Page 4

by Sofia T Summers


  Or maybe she had chosen not to get married and was just in a… civil partnership? Or maybe the father had died, maybe she was a widow. The possibilities felt endless, each one more frustrating than the last.

  I was just stepping out of another store when I nearly bumped right into a pretty brunette. “Oh, sorry ma’am.”

  “Jace?”

  I paused. It took me a second, but then I recognized her—Rachel Martin. My high school girlfriend. Oh, wow. I hadn’t expected to run into her so soon. We’d had fun, but I’d broken up with her after Leigh had graduated high school and I’d realized what a massive crush I had on her. I couldn’t be with Rachel while I was pining for someone else. It just hadn’t felt fair.

  “Rachel!” It was good to see her. She gave me an enthusiastic hug, one that lingered a little longer than I would’ve liked, but still, it was fine. “How are you?”

  “How am I?” Rachel sounded incredulous. “I should be asking you that, where have you been? How have you been?”

  “I’m good, I’m good. I enlisted, I think just about everyone heard about that, went into Special Ops, now I’m here. Taking over my uncle’s contracting business.” I pointed at the flyer that was now hanging in the window of the store.

  “Oh, wow!” Rachel grinned. “That is such luck, I’m so glad I ran into you. I just got divorced and my husband—well, my ex-husband—and I sold the house so that we could split the profit. I just bought a new house but it needs a lot of renovations done before I move my family in. You could be just the guy I was looking for!”

  Well, fuck yes, this was great news. My first job and on my first real day of looking for one? Hell yeah. And it would be nice to catch up with Rachel, see how she’d been. I noticed that she put a bit of an emphasis on the whole divorced thing, but I ignored it. Rachel was pretty, sure, but I wasn’t interested in her. To be honest, I was still pretty interested in Leigh. I’d never stopped thinking about her. Even if I couldn’t have her, I wasn’t going to settle for someone else. That would only lead to Rachel getting hurt and me not being satisfied.

  “I can come by and check the place out,” I offered. “See what you need done.”

  “That would be amazing!” Rachel said. She hugged me again. “Thank you so much. This will be great, Jace, I’m looking forward to this.”

  “Glad to hear it.” I nodded at her and went on my way before I could be drawn into further conversation. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to catch up with Rachel, but I could do that when I stopped by her place tomorrow, and I really wasn’t interested in her or any other woman—none of them were Leigh.

  Should I have done things differently? Andy’s anger and his words followed me around all day, juxtaposed with the image of Leigh with her son, with the child that she’d had with another man. Should I have stayed in contact? Should I have left a letter or said a proper goodbye, let them know I was being moved to Special Ops?

  I didn’t know. Even lying in bed that night, I didn’t know. And did it matter, really? You couldn’t undo the past no matter how much you might want to.

  Parts of the past were good, too. I didn’t regret any of the time I had spent with Leigh. The weeks we’d shared together after Andy’s birthday party.

  Fuck, Andy would’ve fucking killed me if he’d learned what I did with Leigh at his party—the party that Leigh wasn’t even supposed to be at. Was that why he was upset? Had he found out about Leigh and me? I wouldn’t be surprised if Leigh had caved and told him at some point. It was a long and difficult secret to keep, if Andy was upset about his best friend leaving him.

  She wouldn’t ever have told him details, though. Leigh didn’t kiss and tell, I knew that much. And we had done a fuck load of kissing that first night.

  I’d wanted it to be good for her. I knew that Leigh hadn’t done anything other than making out—she and Andy were close and I’d overheard a few conversations between them. And in such a small town, well, kids were just as big on gossip as adults. You couldn’t even fuckin’ sneeze in this town without everyone hearing about it. And I hadn’t been about to give the girl I’d been pining after her first sexual experience with a rushed wham bam thank you ma’am.

  At the time I didn’t have my truck. I’d had this old VW van, one that my uncle had given to me. It was the one he’d used for carting around supplies when he was just starting his business out, and by the time I’d gotten it, it had been all worn down. I’d spent afternoons fixing it up with Andy while Leigh watched us, a doe-eyed teenager. I hadn’t thought of her romantically then. Not until graduation when she’d strode across the stage with all of this confidence, her strawberry-blonde hair bouncing with the curls she’d so carefully styled, this big smile on her face, and it had hit me like a boom of thunder in my chest.

  I want her, I’d thought, and suddenly all of our interactions over the past years had taken on a new meaning, and I’d realized that I’d wanted her for a while. I just hadn’t realized it.

  Leigh pressing herself up against me like that at Andy’s party—for a moment I’d thought that maybe I had been wrong. That maybe she did have experience, how else could she be so confident? But then I’d gotten her into the VW van and laid her out, and she’d been so responsive—too responsive—and I’d realized that I had been right. She was new to all of this.

  “Jace,” she’d whined, arching up against me, wrapping her arms around me and grinding us together. My cock had been so hard I’d feared that I would come before I even got inside of her. “Hurry up. I want you to fuck me.”

  “We’re doing this right,” I’d replied, kissing along her neck. My hands had been restless, unable to stop smoothing along her curves. She was just as beautiful now, and I wondered if she would feel the same if I got my hands on her this time, if she would still taste the same against my lips, too.

  “I want to make this good for you,” I’d kept repeating, an idiot mantra that I couldn’t stop.

  “You are,” Leigh had kept promising me. “You are, you are.”

  She’d been so loud, and effusive in her praise, and I had been addicted. Lying in bed even now, six years later, I could feel my cock swelling at the memory. I’d been embarrassed to take her in the back of my van, wishing it was a bed, but Leigh hadn’t minded.

  “This is perfect,” she’d whispered, kissing along my jaw, her lips soft and wet. “Because it’s you.”

  Look, I could be rough around the edges. I could admit that. But that didn’t mean that I didn’t have a bit of a romantic inside of me. I think that everyone did, a little bit. Everyone had a part of them that wanted to hear soft things like that, to know that to at least one other person, they were enough. They were desired just as they were. Hearing Leigh say those things had done a number on me, for sure.

  I’d undone her clothes slowly, taking my time, kissing every part of her that I could reach. She’d been so soft for me, and I longed to touch that silk skin of hers again, to sink my teeth in and suck, to mark her up with pretty bruises and small marks from my mouth—marks that nobody would see but the two of us.

  I’d tasted her, gone down between her legs, and Leigh had tugged at my hair and cried out so loud it had been a damn good thing everyone was far away and drunk as skunks. She’d been so sweet underneath my tongue, shaking and shaking until she’d fallen apart. I’d been humping mindlessly against the floor of the van like an idiot, turned on beyond belief listening to her cries—I wanted to taste her again, I wanted to lick into her until she came against the flat of my tongue.

  Maybe I was a pervert for it, but I couldn’t help myself—I wrapped my hand around my cock and started stroking myself, remembering what it had been like to feel her orgasm against my mouth, her thighs tightening around my ears. Remembering how I had slid home inside of her, how she had clenched around me, her begging and encouragement as we’d made love for the first time.

  Guilt and desire mingled in my chest as I came all over my hand, knowing it wasn’t my right but still wishing lik
e anything that it was real, that Leigh was here with me again.

  8

  Leigh

  I’m shaking with my orgasm as Jace pulls away from my dripping pussy, his mouth wet and messy with my slick. I had no idea—I had never expected—I didn’t need him to do that, to eat me out like that. I would’ve offered to blow him but I was so inexperienced, I’m terrified of getting any part of this wrong. I want to be perfect for him the way he’s being for me. And then he goes and does that to me, laps and sucks at me until I’m coming on his face, and it’s so much I couldn’t move if I tried.

  Not that I want to move. I have no intention of going anywhere.

  Jace crawls back up my body and I whimper. “Please.” I nuzzle his neck. “I want you to fuck me.”

  We’re both naked, have been for a bit, Jace peeling my clothes and his off far more slowly than I would’ve liked. He’s determined to do this ‘right’, as he keeps saying, and it’s so endearing. I knew that Jace would be a thoughtful lover. He’s too thoughtful in the rest of his life to be anything else. But I didn’t think that he would be quite this attentive. It’s a whole new level. I feel like I’m ruined for anyone else.

  His cock is hard and thick, pressing against my hip, and I want it inside of me so badly even as I’m seized with a primal fear that it won’t fit. I know it will, I know that it’s possible, and Jace would never hurt me, so I push past it. I want this and I’m not going to let my nerves get ahead of me.

  “Please,” I say again, begging, and Jace shudders against me, his eyes closing like it’s more than he can take to hear me say that.

  He kisses me then, short and sweet. I wrap my arms and legs around him, encouraging him, and he slides inside of me at last. It’s slow, we have to take our time, let my body adjust, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything fill me up like this before. I’ve tried, with my fingers, but this isn’t nearly the same.

  I feel so full, split open, almost, and I’m sobbing because it feels so good. That first tentative thrust into me has me screaming. I didn’t know that it could feel like this, like I’m on the edge of a knife, but in an amazing way. I moan helplessly as Jace fucks me, his movements deep but slow at first and then speeding up, harsher, and I love it, I want it so bad, yes, yes, yes—

  My body spasmed as I woke up, my thighs and underwear soaked with my slick, my heart pounding. I was right on the verge of orgasm, my dream so real and vivid that for a second I wondered where the hell I was.

  Then I realized that I was at home, in my bed, and that I’d only been dreaming about my first time with Jace.

  My hand slid down between my legs and I quickly brought myself to orgasm, feeling ashamed the entire time, even as my body wracked with pleasure. I had to bite down hard on my lip to keep from making a noise that would disturb Sammy. My body throbbed with the desire to have Jace’s cock inside of me again, and it was with that thought that I came all over myself.

  Ugh, what kind of idiot was I? Literally dreaming about my first time with Jace? I wasn’t a teenager anymore. I wasn’t even a young adult anymore. I was a mother, with responsibilities, and Jace was a part of my past. Just because he was back in town didn’t mean that I got to moon over him.

  Maybe, if things were different, I could think about having a reunion fling with him. Something just for old times’ sake. He was still going to be good at sex, I knew that much. That wasn’t really something you got worse at. You could start off bad at sex and then get better, but who out there knew of someone who started out really good at sex and then started being awful?

  But I had Sammy to think about. I wasn’t running into Jace while I was back in town while living in NYC. I had responsibilities, and every time I thought about being with someone, whether that was sex or just a date, I had to think about my son.

  Honestly, I hadn’t had time to date with raising Sammy. And not any real inclination to. Why would I spend all this time and energy trying to figure out how to squeeze in a date or a hook up that might not work out, when I could be focusing on my son instead and relaxing at the end of the day when he was asleep?

  Besides, nobody had ever really… turned me on. Made me want more. Not the way that Jace had. Once I’d had Jace, I wasn’t going to settle for anything less than the level of arousal he’d given me. I wanted someone who made me blush like a fire hydrant and got my heart racing the way that he had. And so far, nobody had done that.

  Now he was back, and my body was clearly hoping that my sexual dry spell was over.

  Not a chance. I couldn’t be with Jace, not with the secret of who Sammy was, and even if Sammy had been someone else’s kid, I couldn’t accept a man into my life if it ran the risk of upsetting Sammy. Jace had just up and left us once, who was to say he wouldn’t do it again? And if that happened and Sammy had grown to depend on Jace in his life—it would break my heart to watch that happen to my child.

  Glancing at the clock, I let out a heavy sigh. It was ten minutes before I was supposed to get up anyway. And there was no way I was going to be able to fall back asleep for those ten minutes now.

  Turning off my alarm, I heaved myself out of bed and went to take a shower. Life had gotten a bit easier with Sammy in kindergarten now. I had some free time in the morning and I could do work at the hardware store without worrying the entire time that Sammy was getting himself into trouble (at least, until he came to the store after school).

  Once I was all taken care of, I slipped into Sammy’s room and sat on the edge of his bed. Every time I saw him sleeping like this, my heart felt like it was both growing three sizes and splitting in two. I loved him so much. I hadn’t known it was even possible to love someone like this until he’d been placed into my arms. The whole time I’d been pregnant I’d been second-guessing myself. Should I put my child up for adoption? Was I doing the right thing, keeping it?

  I had no judgment for anyone who did choose to give their child up for adoption. That was their life and their right. But for me… all of my fears had fallen away once I’d held Sammy. My heart had belonged to him ever since.

  Sammy stirred as I gently shook his shoulder. “Hey, little bug, time to get up! It’s going to be a beautiful day.”

  Sammy yawned. “Do I hafta?”

  I laughed. “Yes, you do. C’mon! I’ve got breakfast for you.”

  Breakfast was dealt with pretty easily, but Sammy was fussy about his lunches. “You’re gonna cut it into triangles right?” he asked me, peering at me from his seat at the table. “Not squares!”

  “Cutting into triangles, you got it.”

  “With extra peanut butter for apples?”

  “Yup, extra peanut butter!”

  “An’ animals?” Sammy wouldn’t eat any crackers or cookies that weren’t cut into the shape of animals. He was only five, so I figured—it was pretty cute, and not a big deal. And it was crackers and cookies. If he’d been insisting that all of his fruit and vegetables be cut into specific shapes, I would’ve had to put my foot down.

  I held up a little baggy of animal crackers and shook it. “Right here. Special treat.”

  There was a school bus in town, but that was only for the kids in elementary and middle school. High school you were expected to just bike there on your own, and for Sammy, I walked him. Other parents would drop their kids off from their cars, but I never minded the walk. It was nice.

  “You got everything?” I asked him in front of the school, double-checking.

  Sammy nodded.

  “You have your homework, your food, your jacket?”

  “Yup!”

  “All right then!” I crouched down and hugged him. “Have a fun day!”

  Sammy hugged me back, then waved to me as he ran into the school. I waved back. Someday I was going to hug him and he would get upset and say he was too old for me to do that kind of thing in public. But for now, I got to do that whenever I wanted.

  If only kids got to be parents, in a way. Then they’d know how heartbreaking it was for
your kid to grow up, and they might not be so eager to pull away from us. But that was the sad cycle of life—you didn’t realize the other person’s perspective until it was too late to fix anything about it.

  Shaking off my maudlin thoughts, I walked through town to the hardware store. It wasn’t a long walk, and it was nice now that it was spring. Winter wasn’t nearly as fun.

  “Morning!” I called as I entered. Andy stuck his hand out of the back room to wave to me, and I set down my sweater and purse, looking around to see what needed to be done before we opened.

  Ah, the coffee. I knew of a certain two old men who would be mightily disappointed if I didn’t have coffee for them. I went into the back storeroom to get more coffee to fill up the machine—only to find that we had none.

  Drat.

  “I’m running to the general store!” I yelled to Andy. “Gotta get coffee!”

  “No problem,” Andy called back.

  There was a large chain grocery store the next town over that you could go to, but our general store had adapted with the times and was still good for most of your regular needs. You might not be able to get some specialty ingredients, but you could get back to school supplies, food, flu medication, and things like that.

  I popped inside and was headed right for the aisle with the breakfast food on it, when I froze.

  Standing in the back to school aisle, frowning and looking like the world was against him, was Jace.

  He was wearing a t-shirt that stretched over his thick arms—arms that were much thicker and more muscled than when I’d last seen him six years ago—highlighting just how goddamn strong he was. His stance was a bit wide, like he couldn’t help it, and my mouth went dry because I knew exactly what was between those legs and what I wanted to do with it.

  Down, girl. Be polite. Or, rather, sneak away before he sees you.

 

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