VERSUS (Second Chances 2)

“I can’t remember the last time I danced that much.” Eden tosses her purse on a chair in my living room as I lock the door behind us. “Thank you for taking me there.”

Scrubbing my hand over the back of my neck, I look over at the bottle of scotch on my home bar. “Can I get you a drink?”

Her gaze follows mine. “A glass of cold water would be perfect.”

No. She’s fucking perfect.

She talked non-stop in the taxi on the way here. She loved the band. She enjoyed the wine. She liked Billy even though her interaction with him was limited to a couple of minutes.

I want to take her back there, but we’re due in court again in a few days.

Depending on what she’s planning on her end, the case should move quickly.

She could be on a flight back to Buffalo within the next two weeks.

I knew going into this that it would run its course, but I need more time.

I stalk into the kitchen and pull a pitcher filled with filtered water out. I fill a tall glass to the brim.

She’s studying the pictures on the mantle of the fireplace when I walk back in.

“Ansley is still as gorgeous as ever.”

She’s right. My older sister is one of the most beautiful women I know. It’s not just her striking features. Her heart is made of gold.

She’s a mom to three, a wife, and a teacher.

Her students are curious seven-year-olds. She’s never short of a story or two when we talk.

Eden’s finger trails over the picture of Ansley and me. It was taken last winter in Hawaii. My sister was there with her family because her husband had business on the big island over the holidays.

I made it my business to be there to see them.

Overall, the trip was everything I hoped it would be. I left with good memories, a tan, and a promise from Ansley that she’d find her way to Manhattan when she needs a weekend break from life in Houston.

It hasn’t happened yet, but my door is always open for her.

Eden takes the glass of water. “Thank you for this.”

I watch her throat work on a swallow. As much as I want my dick back in her mouth, I want to taste her more.

“Take off your clothes.”

Her gaze skims my face. “Not so fast. We have a matter to discuss.”

The only thing I want to discuss is how badly I need her naked. “What matter?”

She places the empty glass on the mantle. “Your jersey. We need to talk terms if you want it back.”

She can keep the damn thing. It’s a piece of another life that I’m not sure I want to remember.

I play along because she’s smiling like she’s holding the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. “I’m open to an offer. What do you propose?”

She rakes me from head-to-toe, and there’s zero chance that I’m reading the look in her eyes wrong. She wants me. She fucking wants me as desperately as I want her.

“I want to undress you.”

Her voice is bold and clear. There’s no room for misunderstanding.