Second Chance for Love (6 page)

Chase moaned against my lips and I knew I was on the right track. He kissed my neck and cupped my breasts. Even through the fabric of my dress my nipples brushed against his palm. I rubbed my thighs together to stimulate myself as I worked his cock to its full length. Chase groaned and I knew we were both as ready as we were going to be. We might be waiting forever for our insecurities to go away.

When we were younger, sex with Chase had been about making love, but tonight it was just about fucking. We were both depressed, defeated, and in need of human contact. I could feel Chase watching me as I hiked up my skirt and moved the crotch of my panties to the side. Usually, I'd undress for sex, but tonight I was too horny to wait. I also feared if I took the time to undress I might realize just how stupid I was being.

I straddled Chase, keeping my body just out of his reach. He looked at me with hungry eyes and bucked up. The head of his cock brushed against my clit and I moaned in pleasure. I wrapped my fingers around him and guided him inside of me. I slid down, easily consuming Chase's length. It had been awhile since I had been with a man and my vibrator had become my best friend while I was in the city.

I bit my lip as his cock brushed against my insides, finding all the points of pleasure. Bracing my hands against his chest, I began to move. Chase pulled me down into a kiss and bucked up hard into my pussy. I moaned into the kiss as his thrusts pushed him deeper and deeper inside of me.

Chase's hands cupped my ass, squeezing and caressing. I wiggled my hips, making the head of his throbbing cock rub against my g-spot. My body moved frantically up and down over him. It had been too long since I had felt a man inside of me and now that it was happening I couldn't get enough.

I sat back up and rode him harder, enjoying the feeling of his slick cock inside my body. It's usually said that a man thinks with his cock, but at that moment my pussy was in control of my thoughts.

Chase moved his fingers between my thighs and massaged my clit. In response, I moved more frantically over him. His fingers on my swollen little nub made my limbs quiver. My fingernails dug into his chest as I reached my climax. I threw my head back in pleasure and massaged my breasts to draw out the sensations that were washing over me.

I felt Chase's dick twitch inside of me and knew he was going to cum soon. Usually, I would have insisted that he use a condom, but tonight in my frenzy I’d forgotten about safety measures. His warm sticky seed exploded inside of me and I moaned again. I continued to ride Chase until he was completely limp.

Panting for air, I collapsed onto him. My muscles ached and I was sore between my legs, but in the afterglow of sex that type of pain always feels good. I rested my head on Chase's chest and let him hold me until I fell asleep, but my mind was already racing. I could tell that regret and guilt wasn't going to wait until the morning to pay me a visit.

After Chase fell asleep, I gently moved away from him. For a long time I lay there watching him sleep. He looked so much like the man I’d left six years ago, but he also looked different. He looked much older, though he was still sexy as hell. Even in his sleep, I could tell that the last six years had taken its toll on him. I wanted to make things work, but nothing had changed. Our conversation tonight had only reinforced what I knew to be true: It had been a mistake to come home.

I should’ve kept my ass in the city where it belonged. Maybe if I called my landlord and gave him the rent upfront I could get my apartment back.

“If you're going to leave again, why the hell did you sleep with him?”

I thought for a moment on the self-posed question and then the answered occurred to me.

I needed closure.

When I’d left before, there had been too many unanswered questions and too many what-ifs. Now I knew the facts and I didn’t like the situation. I knew my only choice was to do what I always did best.

To leave and not look back this time.

My heart pounded in my chest as I committed Chase's sleeping face to memory. It would be the last time I ever laid eyes on him willingly.

“I love you,” I whispered softly, “but now I have to go.”

Chase didn't even stir as I walked out of the room. I headed to the bathroom to clean up downstairs. My reflection looked better than I felt, but that wasn't saying much. I straightened my weave out the best I could without a hair brush and washed off my smeared makeup.

Bosco was waiting outside of the bathroom when I was finished. He looked up at me and whined with a look in his eyes that seemed sad. I've heard from a lot of non-pet owners that dogs don't have emotions, but that's bullshit. Bosco knew I was upset and it was causing him anxiety as well.

“Come on, boy,” I said with a sigh. “Let's go home.”

Bosco and I walked back to my mother's house. Just like old times, she’d left the porch light on for me. I didn't allow myself to get sentimental about leaving my childhood home again. I just loaded my stuff back into the car and got the hell out of there without a word to anybody. As I pulled onto the highway, sorrow and relief mingled in my gut. By the time I made it to the first rest stop sign, tears were rolling down my face.

I pulled into the rest stop just as the first rays of the morning sun chased away the darkness of the night. I allowed myself to cry until no more tears could fall and then I moved on. In the back of my mind, I knew leaving was just another band-aid though I hoped it would numb the pain for a little while.

Chapter 14: Chase

Jetta was gone when I woke up. At first I thought she might have taken her dog outside, but I knew it was a pipe dream before I even got out of bed. The other side of the bed was cold, letting me know she hadn't slept next to me. I made my way downstairs and into the kitchen hoping and praying I was wrong. A glance out the kitchen window confirmed what I had feared.

Jetta was gone again. I had failed this time too.

My mind raced as I started the coffee pot and went out to collect the morning newspaper. I sat at the table listening to the coffee brewing and stared blankly at the paper. My eyes couldn't focus on the words and even if they could have, my mind was busy trying to wrap itself around how I fucked up again.

When the coffee pot beeped, I poured myself a cup of coffee and added creamer. My hands were shaking so bad, I dropped the tiny creamer container into the cup, splashing hot coffee onto my arms and stomach.

After retrieving a pack of cigarettes from my truck, I sat on the front porch and chain smoked as the sun came up. The silence of the early morning pounded against my ear drums making me want to scream. I could hear my phone ringing inside, but I didn't care. It was most likely my mother asking why I wasn't there to take Abby to school. In the mood I was in, I didn’t think I should be around Abby.

The ringing phone motivated me to get dressed and get the hell out of dodge before my mother showed up. I didn't need one of her parental pep talks. I needed a shot of something strong to help me get through the day.

I got dressed and drove downtown. My stomach was growling, but I didn't stop by the diner. I couldn't stand the thought of facing Henry and his probing questions. What the hell was I supposed to tell him anyway?

“Yeah, man, I had another chance, but I fucked up and blew it again.”

Yep, he'd really like hearing that, wouldn't he? I already knew what he'd say and it was better for both of us if I didn't have to hear it. Instead, I drove past the diner and headed towards the highway. I wasn't sure where I was going. Anywhere had to be better than where I was.

I ended up stopping for breakfast at a pancake house in the next town over. I didn't much like their food, but my growling stomach wasn't willing to wait any longer. I inhaled my food without tasting it and then sipped my coffee. The waitress tried to make small talk. I tried to let her know I wasn't in the mood.

“Today's not a good day for small talk, okay?” I said, not looking at her.

“It just looked like you could use a friendly ear son,” she replied.

I shook my head. “No, ma'am. Today I think I need something a lot stronger than a friendly ear.” I let out a humorless laugh. “Unless your ear is really a whiskey tap.”

She narrowed her eyes at me and left without another word. I felt bad for being such a jackass when all I wanted was to be left alone.

I drove around town until I found a bar open at noon. It was blissfully empty except for me and the bartender. He ignored me after serving me my drink. After a couple of whiskey shots, I began to talk to him.

“Are you married?” I asked.

“No.” The elderly bartender shook his head. “I've been divorced twice over.”

“Then you might know how I’m feeling today,” I said.

He chuckled. “I know that very few things besides a woman can drive a man to a bar this early in the afternoon.”

“You don't know the half of it, man,” I replied, shaking my head. “I lost the same beautiful woman. Not once, but twice.”

“Was it someone else or did you fuck up?”

I frowned. “What kind of question is that?”

“A good one. My first divorce was my fault. I thought my first wife was really pretty. So was her sister. The second divorce was caused by someone else. After awhile I guessed my second wife thought the neighbor’s college-aged son was a lot prettier than me.” He laughed.

“I want to say it was my fault the first time, but this time I'm not sure,” I admitted.

“At first it can be hard to tell whose fault it is. Come back in a year and I'll ask you again. By then, you should have the answer.”

I drank until other patrons began to fill the bar. By two o'clock the bar was packed with happy couples and businessmen dropping by to catch the scores. I watched them with contempt until I finally decided I had to leave. It didn't cross my mind that I was too drunk to drive. The bartender stopped me at the door, blocking my exit.

“I’m calling you a taxi, son,” he said.

“I live in the next town over,” I slurred.

“Then go to a motel in town here and sleep the whiskey off before you drive home,” he insisted. “Turning yourself into roadkill ain't going to make her come back, buddy.”

I was too tired and drunk to argue. “Fine. Whatever. Just call the damn taxi.”

My temples were pounding and I wanted a smoke. I waited outside and took long hard drags off my cigarettes until I felt like I was going to throw up. The cigarette dropped from my hand and I ran behind the building to wretch. I’d barely regained my wits by the time the taxi showed up. The driver didn't comment on my condition and I was thankful, because if he had I might have slugged him just because.

The drive to the motel seemed to take forever, but my fare was only six dollars, cluing me in that it hadn't taken as long as I thought. I paid the lady at the front desk and she gave me a key.

It's my habit to check motel beds for anything disgusting before crawling into them, but I was too drunk to care. I kicked off my boots and pulled my shirt off before collapsing in bed. Sleep refused to come even though I was exhausted.

For what seemed like hours, I stayed awake, staring at the stained ceiling. My mind wandered, trying to grab onto anything that wouldn't remind me of Jetta. It settled on wondering how a ceiling got a large yellow stain then I decided that it was most likely better that I didn't know. Eventually, sleep overtook me, but offered no release from the thoughts of Jetta.

My dreams were filled with images of her beautiful body moving over my cock again and again. A coy smile played at her lips and her soft fingers twisted my nipples. I woke up hard as hell and feeling like I hadn't slept at all.

Through the fog of my hangover, I managed to stumble into the bathroom and strip my clothes off. I waited until the bathroom was steamed up before stepping into the shower. The warm water felt good against my muscles and helped to fight back my hangover. My temples still throbbed, but at least I didn't feel like I was going to throw up again.

I drove back to town and called my mother. I told her that I needed some time to get my head on straight.

“You have a child, Chase,” she scolded me. “That means you can't call in sick or take personal days!”

“Mom, I really don't think I should be around Abby right now,” I tried to explain.

“What if you didn’t have me to take care of Abby? What would you do then? You have responsibilities now, Chase. You can’t just drop out of life because you’re upset or have had a bad day. This is over that colored woman again, isn't it?” she demanded. “Everyone's talking about how you two left Musco's funeral together. My neighbor told me her mama said you must have pissed her off royally because she jumped town in the middle of the night without a word to anyone. Leave that girl in the past! You have a little girl to worry about now. Do you know that she cried yesterday when you didn't show up to take her to school? Then she cried again when you didn't pick her up!”

“I'll talk to you later, Mom,” I said, giving up on getting any sympathy from my mother.

“You’d better grow a pair and pick your daughter up today! You hear me?” she yelled before slamming down the phone.

She was mad, but I already knew picking up Abby wasn't in my plans. I was in the convenient store parking lot and planned to buy a case of beer after I gassed up my truck.