Second Chance Boyfriend (17 page)

I frown. “Um, I hate to break it to you, but we’ve definitely done this before. Together. More than once.”

Chuckling, he meets my gaze once more. “I mean—shit, I don’t know how to say this.”

“More true confessions, Drew?” Reaching out, I touch his cheek, my fingers lingering on the stubble that lines his jaw. I like the way his bristly cheeks feel against my own when he kisses me. It’s sorta hot. He is all sorts of hot. “Don’t be shy. Just say it.”

He leans in, his mouth at my ear, his breath warm against my cheek. “I’ve never gone down on a girl before,” he whispers.

Okay, now I’m shocked. I rest my hand on his chest and push him away slightly so our eyes can meet once again. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” He nods, I notice his cheeks are ruddy and my heart squeezes.

God, he is so stinking cute and he’s all mine. Mine, mine, mine. We’re pretending we’re perfectly normal and we’re not. We’re both all sorts of messed up.

But I don’t care if he’s troubled and has dealt with an endless amount of bullshit at the hand of a woman so disgusting I can’t even think her name, let alone say it. I still want him. All the time. Desperately. I know he’s damaged. I also know he’s trying his best to work through the damage and become a whole person again.

More than anything, I know he needs me. And I need him. I love him. And Drew loves me. Even though we haven’t said it to each other yet, I know deep in my heart it’s the truth.

“If you don’t want to do it, you don’t have to.” I’m giving him an excuse to back out because the last thing I want to do is pressure him. He’s dealt with enough pressure in his life. Our game of true confessions was hard for him. I knew it would be. But I think it helped us become closer.

A sexy smile curves his lips and I’m momentarily breathless at the sight of it. “Oh, I want to, Fable. More than you can possible imagine.”

Now it’s my turn to become embarrassed and I feel my cheeks heat. “So what are you waiting for?”

“I just…wanted to warn you. In case I somehow screw it up.” He lowers himself so his body covers mine, his mouth against my neck. He’s kissing and nibbling me there, driving me crazy with the way he touches me, and I close my eyes, losing myself.

Finding myself. With him.

He’s somehow worried he’s going to go about this all wrong, but he doesn’t know that no matter what, he can’t possibly screw this up. That everything he does, everything he says, how he touches me, is all so perfect, it’s scary. He’s all I ever want. All I’ll ever need.

Drew maps my body with his hands and mouth, his tongue… God, his tongue. He licks me everywhere, tasting me, savoring me, until I’m writhing beneath him, my entire body on fire. He skims his fingers along the insides of my thighs so lightly I shiver. My entire body is shaking in anticipation as he kisses the sensitive flesh of my stomach, my hips, my thighs…

And when he finally, finally delivers that first tentative lick between my legs, I moan so loud I’m almost embarrassed.

But I’m not. How can I be when the man I love so much is overwhelming me with pleasurable sensation after pleasurable sensation? He searches me intimately with his tongue, slipping one long finger deep inside me, and another shivery moan escapes as I arch against him.

It’s too much. It’s not enough. I both want to come and make it last and when he increases his pace, I know I’m dangerously close to splintering completely apart.

“Tell me where, baby,” he whispers against me as I’m shuddering and gasping, my fingers clenched in his hair. “Tell me how you like it.”

“Higher,” I choke out and he moves higher, his tongue flicking against my clit, his finger deep inside my body. Oh, shit, that is
it.
It’s perfect, just perfect where he’s touching me, licking me. Right. Fucking. There….

With a ragged whisper of his name falling from my lips, I’m coming. The waves wash over me again and again, sweeping me under, banishing my thoughts so all I can do is feel.

And then I feel him. Drew. Looming over me, his big hands gripping my hips as he positions me, and without warning, he slides deep inside my body. I gasp at first contact, going completely still as he fills me completely. He dips his head, his mouth crushing mine, and I can taste myself on his lips, his tongue.

I don’t care. God, it arouses me even more and within an instant our bodies are a frenzy of movement as we rock against each other, into each other, taking us higher and higher until we’re both panting, sweating, heaving masses of tangled flesh.

He presses his forehead to mine, his breath hot in my face, and I open my eyes to find him watching me. “Fable.” He swallows hard and closes his eyes, breathing so deep his bare chest brushes against mine. “You feel so fucking good.”

I’m completely undone. So is he. I feel like we’re both going to absolutely die if we don’t come at this very instant. Together. Orgasm number one is already a distant memory. Orgasm number two is threatening to take over and I wind my legs around his waist, sending him deeper.

His thrusts increase, become more urgent, and I move with him. Encouraging him with murmured words, stroking his back with my fingernails, resting my palms on his muscular backside so I can push him further. Our bodies are smashed so close together, I feel like we’re a permanent part of each other.

I’ve heard those sorts of declarations before. Where two become one and you can’t tell where one begins and the other ends, blah, blah, blah. I always thought it sounded like a bunch of romantic crap.

But I feel that way right now with Drew. As if our bodies are entwined, bound so tight we could never, ever come apart. His heart is mine.

And my heart is his.

I breathe his name across his lips as I begin to tremble. This orgasm is different than the first one. It starts low in my belly, radiating through my muscles, my bloodstream, until my entire body is shaking. He keeps moving, keeps thrusting, hard, harder, driving my climax on until he strains above me, consumed by his own orgasm.

I’m captivated by the powerful display of his tense muscles and I run my hands across his shoulders, down his chest. His skin is hot, his flesh unyielding, and tears threaten the corner of my eyes at the swell of emotion that threatens to take over me.

The need to express my feelings for him is so overwhelming, I’m afraid I might burst. I don’t want to say it first. He may have written it in a note, but he’s never, ever said those words out loud to me. I want him to say them.

I need him to say the words first.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I inhale deep, trying to calm my racing heart. Drew drops a lingering kiss to my forehead before he pulls away and climbs out of bed. I assume he’s throwing away the condom I never even realized he slipped on and I roll over on my side, hugging myself as I curl up into a ball.

My emotions are a jumbled mess. What the hell just happened? We’ve had plenty of sex the last few days but this time I feel like I was hit by a semi truck.

“Hey.” He rests his hand on my bare shoulder. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah.” I keep my back to him as he slides into bed with me. He wraps an arm around my middle and hauls me in close, so my back is nestled to his front. He’s still breathing hard too and I snuggle deeper into the pillow, close my eyes on a soft sigh when he starts raking his fingers through my hair.

I really love it when he does that. And he knows it too.

“Does it bother you? What, uh, happened to me?”

The question is so out of nowhere, I turn in his embrace so I can see his face, look into his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“What you found out. When you were with me at my dad’s house. Does it bother you?”

“Of course, it bothers me, but not in the way you think.” I touch his cheek, forcing him to meet my gaze. “I hate what you’ve endured. I hate what she did to you and how it makes you feel guilty. More than anything, I hurt for you. Your pain is still so fresh and I wish I could somehow take it away.”

“You do take it away. You make me feel like a real person. That it’s okay to be so free like this. Together. Sexually.” He closes his eyes, breathing deep. “You make me feel normal.”

Here I am being selfish and wishing he would just tell me he loves me and he’s still going through all of these turbulent emotions. Worrying that I’ll think less of him because he’s been abused. Yes, abused. He can call it an affair or whatever the hell else he says about Adele but she molested him.

I wish he could really see that.

“Drew.” I brush my fingers through his too-long hair. “No matter what, we’re in this together. I’m not going to run. Whatever we discover, whatever happens, I’m going to stand by your side and support you.”

He opens his eyes. “I have no more secrets with you. At least none that I know of. I’ve bared my soul to you. I’ve got nothing to hide.”

“Neither do I,” I confess softly. “Yet here we still are. Together.”

“Together.” He smiles faintly. “Can I tell you something? It’s been bothering me, that you don’t know this. I have to get it off my chest.”

Wariness creeps over me and I try to shove it away. “What is it?”

“I know…” He huffs out a breath. “The day Vanessa died, I know you think I was inside with Adele…but it wasn’t like that. We were having an argument.”

“Oh?” I try my best to remain neutral but anger grows inside me, like a slow, simmering pot threatening to boil over at any minute.

“I was telling her she had to leave me alone. She tried her best to convince me to uh, you know, but I refused.” He closes his eyes again, pain etched all over his handsome face. “I just didn’t want you thinking less of me. That I was off fooling around with my stepmom while Vanessa drowned. It wasn’t like that. Not at all.”

My heart hurts so much. His pain is like a living, breathing thing and I wish I could take it all away. Curling my arms around him, I crush my body to his, scooting up on the mattress so his head can rest on my chest. I press my lips to his forehead and kiss him, the tears flowing freely down my cheeks. “I’m sorry she did this to you. I hate her.”

He clings to me much like I cling to him, his face pressed against my bare breasts, and I swear I feel dampness on my skin. Like he’s crying. Which only makes me cry more. “I love you,” he murmurs against me. “I love you so much, Fable.”

My heart cracks in two, both at his pain and at his beautiful, much-needed declaration. “I love you too.”

I’ve never felt more complete.

Drew

“I told her I loved her.” I blurt out of nowhere.

Dr. Harris nods, no emotion on her face whatsoever. As usual. “What did Fable say?”

“She said she loved me too.” I look at my hands, remembering earlier this morning. When I woke Fable up by kissing her softly all over her naked body, the rising sunlight casting her skin a golden hue. Our bodies came together lazily, our whispered I-love-yous fueling me completely.

Our two days pretending the outside world didn’t exist ended on a perfect note. Now we’re both back to reality.

“Do you believe her?”

Doc’s question surprises me. “I think I do.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

Shit. “It’s hard to believe someone loves you for who you are when they’ve seen all your faults and know all your secrets.”

“But doesn’t that make it even more believable? Fable’s seen everything. She knows everything. Yet she still wants to be with you?”

“I guess so.” I shrug and change the subject. “Adele called me a few days ago.”

“And what did she have to say?”

“She accused me of poisoning my dad’s mind with reasons why he should divorce her.”

“Is she right?”

“No. I told him he had to make that choice for himself. I’m not about to give him advice on how to handle her,” I say vehemently. My emotions turn into chaos every time I think of the woman. It’s exhausting.

“And are they still reconciling?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t talked to my dad since he told me he might change his mind about the divorce.” I don’t bother telling Dr. Harris how Fable and I ignored everyone else and pretended we were normal. She’d probably say we were just avoiding the inevitable and accuse me of trying to have an unhealthy relationship with unrealistic expectations.

Yep, I’ve been to more than my fair share of shrinks. I know the drill. Luckily enough, I really connect with this one. She gets me. She doesn’t push and she doesn’t judge.

“It’s hard, isn’t it, being in a relationship? With all of your extra baggage, do you think you can be there for Fable when she needs you?”

Ouch. One of those tough questions the doc is famous for. “I want to believe I can be there for her. She’s strong. Sometimes I think she’s stronger than me, emotionally.”

“But doesn’t she have her own set of problems? We all do, you know. And I remember you mentioning she doesn’t have the best home life.”

I lean back against my chair, sprawl my legs out in front of me. “Her mom is selfish and never around. She has a little brother who’s fourteen and she worries about him a lot.” I go on and tell Dr. Harris how Owen punched me when he realized I was the one who supposedly broke his sister’s heart. I’d forgotten to mention it the last time we saw each other, I’d been so wrapped up in my father’s non-divorce announcement.

“I’m starting to see why the two of you are drawn to each other,” Dr. Harris says.

Glancing up, I catch her smiling at me and I frown. “What do you mean by that?”

“Your experiences are somewhat similar. You both come from a broken home, you both carry heavy responsibilities and unnecessary guilt. You have money and she doesn’t, so there’s one difference. You run from your problems and it seems that she confronts them, from what you’ve told me.”

“She’s the strongest person I know.” I wish I had even half of her strength.

“Don’t you think she ever feels weak? Powerless?”

I’ve never seen Fable anything less than mighty and strong. “I don’t know.”

“I’m sure she does. You need her, right? So don’t you believe she needs you just as much? Her life can’t be easy. She has responsibilities, a job, a brother to take care of, and a mother to take care of as well. Who do you take care of, Drew?”