Page 12 of Second Chance Summer

Me, cheat on her?

Lanai Nicole Vaillant?

The woman my dreams are made of?

How could I cheat on her when she’s everything I ever wanted?

Why would I when I was happy?

When would I, since I’m always working?

And with whom, since no woman – and I mean no woman – could ever make me feel like her?

Even if I wasn’t happy, who would I run to?

Lanai’s my—entire life.

“Henny—”

“Do you really think I’d do that to you, Lanai?”

She swallows hard, her eyes flitting around before they land back on me again.

I laugh under my breath, but by no means am I amused. I’m heated. I’m having trouble processing this, thus the eerie chuckle I used to temper my frustration.

“That’s really what you think of me?”

“It’s not that cut and dry, Henny. It’s been something I’ve thought about every time you didn’t come home, every time you had to work late or had a business function to attend. I couldn’t help but think that. But tonight, looking you in the eyes, I know I was wrong. I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions.”

I close the gap between us and look down at her, noticing immediately how she has trouble looking into my eyes. I lift her chin slightly, helping her do so when I catch her gaze. I say, “I would never cheat on you.”

“I’m—I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—” She pivots to walk away from me.

I take a breath to calm myself before I go back inside, closing the sliding glass door. I find her in the bedroom pulling her dress up over her head like she’s getting ready to shower or go to bed, showing off the body I’ve appreciated very much over the years. Ample breasts tucked inside a black bra. Flat stomach. Black panties.

Like opposite poles on a magnet, my body automatically draws closer to hers. She won’t know this, but I’m quivering with the need to be with her. To touch her. To kiss skin that’s supposed to be mine.

I miss this woman. I spend my days at work daydreaming about how we used to be. About when I used to be enough and how perfect we were together. And we’re perfect now, even if it’s only for this retreat. If this is all we have, then I’m going to make her see that we need more of it.

I grab her undergarments while she tugs at my shirt and pants. She gasps when she relieves me of them as if she’s forgotten how I looked naked – forgotten I have everything to make her body quiver uncontrollably. Four months and she’s forgotten. I’ll make her remember.

Standing at the foot of the bed, I slide my tongue between her lips and kiss her deeply, not wanting to let go of her mouth. I have time to make up for. I flick my tongue across her lips, inside her mouth, thrusting it to her throat while she moans and whimpers – her body caving to mine.

Her fingers massage my head as she attempts to kiss me as hard and as passionately as I’m kissing her. I open my eyes briefly to see her face – to see that she needs this just as much as I do, so without delaying any longer, I walk her back toward the bed, never taking my lips off her.

Hovering above her, I kiss her even deeper, eliciting moans and noises I’ve never heard from her. Feeling her hands on my back does something to my nervous system. The woman is making me twitch – like she’s igniting something inside me that has lain dormant for so long.

Her breasts beneath my palms feel like I’m touching clouds. Her body quivers beneath my touch, and when I ease down, her moans grow louder. They nearly turn into screams when my hand travels past her stomach to the part of her that had me completely and utterly addicted. It told me she needs this connection just as much as I do.

“Henny,” she whimpers.

I stop kissing her just so I can have a full view of her face, but my fingers don’t stop exploring. I watch the beautiful distress on her face. Study it. Revel in it. She’s mine. She should know that. I have a few more days to convince her that we belong together, and I for doggone sure will not squander this opportunity. So, I touch, tease, and when her whimpers become louder, I slide between her thighs and inch slowly, connecting us – well, trying to. Patiently, I wait until her body adjusts for me. When it finally does, I release her gaze and lower my mouth to hers, muffling her screams.

I move, withdraw, and move some more. Then I travel deeper, love her harder. Listen to her pant for air. For breath. For relief. I give her none of the latter. No, not after the torture of not having this for so long. I need her to feel everything I have to give, and I hope she’s doing the most feeling with her heart.

“Henny!”

Her hips lift automatically to match the sensations traveling through her. At the same time, a growl rips from my throat like it never has before. My body trembles and shakes as a release nearly breaks me into so many pieces there’s no putting me back together. Her mouth opens as she gasps.