Chance (The One More Night Series) (15 page)

BOOK: Chance (The One More Night Series)
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“I’m not doing anything with you if you’re angry with me.”

“Why would I be angry with you?  I want you.  Don’t you get it?  Don’t you see that?  There’s a difference.  Or are you blind to all of it?  What you’re hearing in my voice is impatience.  But whatever.  Get undressed.”

Blind to all of what?

“Do you have something you want to say to me?”

“I’ve said enough.  Get undressed.”

I almost didn’t, but when I realized that I’d only regret it later, I decided to go forward with it.  He was hot right now.  Maybe he’d calm down.  In a flurry of activity, we removed our clothes as we made our way through the foyer and toward the bedroom to our right. 

Despite the tension between us, I kept my mind open to the moment and to the experience that would follow.  Tomorrow morning I’d think about how to end this on good terms.  But not now.  Now wasn’t the time for that.  Now was the time for abandon.

We were naked by the time we entered the bedroom.  I turned toward him, took in the length of him, and saw his heavy arousal throbbing between his legs.  I licked my lower lip, and then impulsively knelt down before him, just as I’d wanted to do in the car. 

Would he deny me of this?  He was so uptight right now—so different than he’d been at dinner, and even in the car—that I wasn’t sure.  But when I took him in my mouth, he gasped and steadied himself by putting one of his hands on top of my head. 

He was so thick that I couldn’t manage all of him—far from it—so I grabbed the base of his penis and began to stroke him while my tongue ran around him and under him.

“You’re going to make me come if you keep that up,” he said.  “And that’s not happening so soon.  I plan on enjoying our last night together.  I plan on making it last.”

His placed his hands beneath my arms, and with ease, lifted me off the floor without putting me down.  Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist while he reached around and lowered me down onto him. 

When he entered me, it was with one brutal thrust that was meant to take my breath away—and it worked.  I tightened my grip around his neck while he pounded into me.  He hadn’t been this forceful with me the night before, or this brutal and unrelenting, but I didn’t care.  It’s what I wanted.  It’s what I’d longed to experience—

Before you go back to your safe and secure life?

—and I was glad for it. 

I met each of his thrusts with my own.  There was a moment when I felt so full, it was as if I was approaching another world.  A different universe.  While I rode him, I clawed at his back, tugged at his hair, kissed him hard on the mouth.  And then, when I lost total control, he took every bit of it for himself and slammed into me until I shouted out in release. 

When I was finished trembling, I slumped my head over one of his shoulders and was once again stunned that this was what sex could be like.  What I’d experienced before Chance was sex with men who had little to no idea about what they were doing.  But this went to a whole different level for a few reasons.  First, he was gifted.  Second, there was an undeniable chemistry between us.  And third, there was something primal to our lovemaking that couldn’t be ignored.

Gently, he lowered me down onto the bed, and then straddled me.

“We could stop now, you know?” he said.

“But you haven’t—”

“Maybe I don’t want to.”

I shook my head at him.  “Why?”

“Because this isn’t just about getting off for me.”

“Are you angry with me?”

“Anger isn’t the right word.”

“Then what is?”

“One word can’t explain how I feel about you, Abby.”

“Can you try?”

“I’m frustrated.  I’m captivated.  I’m confused.  I’m happy, discouraged, and surprised.  I feel as if I just won the lottery, but that all of it is about to be taken away from me in a matter of hours.  You know what’s different about this?  Not since I can remember has a woman ever asked me about my life—my home life.  My day-to-day life.  Where I came from.  Why I have fucking callouses on my hands.  Or in which city I’d be in next.  All they ever wanted was my money, and perhaps the chance to have a relationship with me for financial reasons.  When I sorted that out, I changed my life.  That’s the reason I haven’t been with anyone in years.  When I saw you last night, I don’t know what it was, but I sensed that you were different from those other women.  You weren’t on the hunt.  You didn’t have that predatory look in your eyes that most of them do.  Instead, you were focused on your job, and you weren’t trying to bed some random rich guy.  Whether you know it or not, that’s what most of your colleagues were doing.”

“I don’t care about your money, Chance.”

“I know you don’t.  Unlike those women you saw me photographed with, you’re willing to walk away from this, and that tells me everything I need to know about your character.  But it goes deeper than that.  You and I both know that there’s the potential for more than just this, but you won’t admit it because you’re scared.”

“It’s not that I’m scared, Chance.  It’s that I don’t see this working out.”

“Then let’s save that conversation for the morning.  Because if this does end up being my last night with you, then I want to show you something else.”

I furrowed my brow at him.  “Show me what?”

He slid down my body, kissing every part of me as he did.  “What it really feels like to have a man make love to you.”

“Isn’t that what we’ve been doing?”

“No.  I just got done fucking you.  I gave you what you wanted.  Now I want to give you something else.”

“But the first time that we had sex together, when I asked you to make love to me as if you meant it—what was that?”

“A show.  I didn’t know you then, but I tried my best to give you what you wanted.”

“You barely know me now.”

“That isn’t true.  Now I know you a day later.  Now I know you after dinner.  Before things got heated beneath the table, we talked at length.  We talked about our pasts and our hopes for the future.  It’s obvious that we have more things in common than we realized before.  But enough talk.  Let me show you what I’m feeling.  Let me show you the difference.”

When he made love to me, it was different from what I knew with him.  It was sensual, tender, loving, intense, and filled with unexpected moments that cast me into the thrill of the unknown. 

He caressed me so that there was no part of my body that he didn’t stroke or touch.  When he entered me, he did so with such care, I knew that what I felt wasn’t just a physical connection of two bodies coming together.  Instead, I could feel the emotion behind his thrusts.  For reasons I couldn’t explain, I felt that this was a natural extension of us.  The way we were meant to be.

But I didn’t want to overthink any of this now.  So I just let myself go and I went with it, allowing him to take me to the ceiling, through the roof, and into the night air, where my body drifted above the city lights and saw the moon.

When we came, it was with such force, it was difficult to deny what had just happened.  I held him close to me as he finished with a shudder.  I kissed his neck and then his lips, and then he slid out of me and off of me.  For a long moment, we just held each other before he turned me onto my side, came up close behind me, and enveloped me in his arms as he gradually began to drift off to sleep. 

“Don’t leave,” he said.

“I’m sorry?”

“In the morning.  Don’t leave me this time.” 

I closed my eyes when he said that, and allowed the seconds to tick by.  His breathing deepened.  And then he said one last thing to me before sleep finally overcame him:  “Give this a chance, Abby.”

And that was it for me—I couldn’t sleep.  My mind was a hive of confusion, and it was in overdrive.  His left hand was draped over my breasts, and I held it in my own while his breathing became heavier against my neck. 

There was no question that having him near me like this made me feel safe and secure.  Or that the evening itself had challenged any adventure I’d ever imagined for myself.  Chance was capable of offering me both—and now he was asking me to give this a chance.  But I had to wonder again how much longer we could last given his workload and that he didn’t live here.  We’d only known each other for two days.  This was still so fresh, it felt as if there was nothing we couldn’t achieve together.  But I was no fool.  What would this look like six months from now?  A year from now?

There were too many questions I couldn’t answer.  Too many things to think through before he woke.  I lay with him for an hour before I saw dawn press against the closed blinds.  I had to have time alone to think.  So, as he continued to snore lightly, I slid as quietly as I could away from him, moved into the suite’s living area, and pulled up a chair so that it overlooked Fifth Avenue, which was just now coming to life beneath the lavender haze of light.

Elle was right
, I thought.
  I never should have agreed to see him again.  I’m falling for him.  Hell, I’m crazy about him.  I want to see more of him, but I can’t.  It will only end badly—I know it will.  So, what do I do now? 

How do I end this without hurting both of us?

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

 

Although my impulse was to run, I chose not leave before Chance woke—instead, I respected him and his wishes, and stayed.  I made myself a cup of coffee in the suite’s kitchen.  I sipped it while I thought about what was best for each of us going forward and waited for him to wake and join me so we could talk. 

Two hours passed before he did.

I looked at him over my shoulder when he emerged from the bedroom wearing a white terry cloth bathrobe tied loosely around his waist.  I was still naked, but I didn’t care, even if he couldn’t see all of me because my back was turned to him.  He’d seen my body.  He’d seen my soul.  Hell, what hadn’t he seen over these past two days?  He seemed able to see through every part of me, so what was there to hide?  Nothing.  And besides, I didn’t want to hide anything from him, especially now.  He deserved better than that.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Good morning.”

“I’m glad that you’re still here.”

“Sometimes there’s a point when you can’t just cut and run, Chance.  Sometimes, people in your life deserve better than that.”

He looked at me as if he didn’t understand what I was saying, but I sensed that was only because he was still groggy from sleep. 

 “The coffee is probably stale by now,” I said.  “Would you like me to make you a fresh pot?”

“I can make it.”

“Why don’t you do that, and then we can talk?”  I nodded toward the bedroom.  “Is there another bathrobe in there?”

“In the adjoining bath.  Let me grab it for you.”

I got out of my chair, and stood naked before him.  I saw his lips part when he realized that I wasn’t wearing anything. 

“I can get it,” I said as I walked toward him.  As I did, I’d never felt so brazen, so vulnerable, or so free.  But this clash of emotions was what I’d come to expect from Chance.  I looked at him with affection as I neared him, and my brain and heart began to battle each other again.  Each wanted to win.  Each demanded to win.  But only one could take the throne.

And I already knew which one that would be.

“Make some coffee,” I said.  “I’ll be just a moment.” 

 

 

*  *  *

 

 

In the bathroom, I splashed cold water on my face, found a brush to run through my hair, and then looked at myself in the mirror.  I wondered who this person was, and how she’d gotten to where she was now.  Everything had happened so fast, I decided I didn’t know.  Too much of it had been a blur.  For whatever reason, life had ambushed me over the past two days, but what was I to take away from it?  What was I to learn from it?  Not just the fact that I had the ability to let myself go sexually with someone, but from
all
of it? 

Maybe I’d know tomorrow.  Maybe I wouldn’t.

“Would you like more coffee?” he called from the other room.

“Another cup would be great.”

“How do you take it?”

“Black.”

I used the bathroom and then removed the extra bathrobe off the back of the closed door.  The robe was huge on me, but it was nothing if not luxurious.  I wrapped myself in it and held it close to my throat, and when I did, I sensed a trace of his cologne on it, which was too much. 

My stomach hitched.  I turned on the water in the basin to full blast, and then I vomited into the toilet.  When I was finished, I was nearly spent.  I flushed the toilet, rinsed out my mouth with cold water, and then opened one of the small bottles of Scope that was on the vanity.  I took a long swig, swished it around in my mouth, and after a minute, spit it out.  I hadn’t brought a toothbrush with me, so this would have to do.  At some point, probably when he was getting ready last night, he must have worn this robe.  I could smell him on it.  It only heightened my anxiety about what was to come.

Just get through it.

When I rejoined him in the living area, he was sitting on one of the sofas with his robe parted in a way that revealed his chest to me.  Two cups of coffee sat on the coffee table.  They were next to each other, indicating that he wanted me to sit next to him.

But I couldn’t.  Not now.  Maybe not ever again.

I sat down on the other sofa and looked at the two cups.  “Which one is mine?” I asked.  “They’re both black.”

“What’s mine is yours,” he said.  “Choose your poison.”

He was right-handed, so I chose the cup at his left, and sipped.  “Did you sleep well?” I asked.

“I did until you left.  Then I just laid there, drifting in and out.  Would you like some breakfast?  I can call room service.”

“I’m not hungry,” I said.  “But please, if you are, call and get what you’d like.  I don’t mind.”

He studied me for a moment and then said, “Why don’t we just talk, Abby?  You’ve been up for hours turning this situation over in your head to the point that you’ve just made yourself sick.  I heard you in the bathroom, and I hate that you’re feeling this way.  So, why don’t you just talk to me?  I have a feeling where this is going, and I can tell you right now that I don’t like where you’re driving it.  But I need to be fair to you, and I need to respect your wishes.  So, tell me—what are you thinking?  And why do you look so sad right now?” 

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