One Chance (Meant To Be 2) - Page 9

CHAPTER4

Chance

There’s no undoing what’s been done.

That thing about a kiss is just a kiss?

Bull-fucking-shit.

One taste and there’s no back to go to. It’s a straight shot upward from here and I’m done questioning the logic of what’s going on.

I drag my lips from hers, only because I want to look in those fucking amazing golden-green eyes and see that she understands her fate has been sealed.

Her lips stay parted, wet and plump, and my blood pumps harder down into my already-painful erection. A jolt of pain tears through me as my dick battles against my wet jeans, trying to find enough space for its ever-expanding size.

I half expect her to dart for the door, but instead her hands wrap around my neck, fingers digging in like she’s clinging to me in this storm and I’ve never felt more at peace in my life.

She’s washing away all the tension I’ve held on to since my first memories.

How is that possible? I don’t know her, but I do.

She’s all the dreams I never dared to dream. All the hopes I never dared to hope.

I reach down and twine my fingers with hers. They are so small against mine. So soft to my rough. This spitfire girl no bigger than a minute is perfect, like I didn’t know what that word meant before her.

“I hate storms,” she says as a clap of thunder shakes the windows and her little hands release my neck and snap to cover her ears. “Do you have a bathroom or a room with no windows where I can go? Please?”

She’s shaking, her voice breaking along with my heart.

“I can do something better. Sit tight.”

I stand, but her hand darts out to grip my forearm. “Please, don’t leave me here. I can do battle any day with almost anything, but thunderstorms are my downfall.”

“Baby, I’m never leaving you,” I say, my voice hard with the truth of that statement, and I’m not sure if she’s too scared or preoccupied with the storm to understand what that means, but she will soon enough. “See that box on the wall over there?” I point to the side wall between the kitchen and the back hallway. “That’s as far as I’m going and I’m coming right back.”

“But, what about a room without windows?”

“Just trust me, baby. Trust me for thirty seconds.”

I see the hint of a nod as her teeth bite into her bottom lip. She curls back into a ball, her arms wrapped around her bent knees as she releases my arm and I make it quick-time over to the box, open it, tap in my code and punch a few buttons.

She jumps at the sound of the metal storm covers lowering over every window and door in the house. This storm is really a non-threat but that doesn’t matter. If she’s scared, it’s my fucking job to fix it, no matter the cost or effort involved.

I’m back next to her, running my hand down her cheeks as the gears grind and finally there’s a solid bang as all the metal covers find their spot and the sound of the storm lowers to a muffled roar.

“Wow.” She looks around and I can already see her angst lifting. “That’s amazing. And a little scary. Like The Purge. Keeping things out or keeping things in…”

“You don’t live here on the coast of San Phillipe and not have storm shutters. At least not if you can afford it and you’re smart.”

“Well, I guess you’re smart and…” She stops short, giving me that conflicted look from earlier. I get it, there’s an edge to my appearance. Part biker, with my penchant for indigo under my skin and my generally surly manner, but I’m no caricature. My look and personality keep people away. I want to be left alone and I’ve honed my skills at making that happen.

But, I don’t want her to leave me alone. Ever. So I unlock a few of my little boxes and before I know it, I’m giving her the Cliff Notes version of my past and my life, and how I ended up here. She looks sad when I touch on my parents, the military life as a trained sniper, then happy again when I tell her I retired from the service and decided to take up here in this little paradise.

“I don’t think I’ve ever told anybody that much about me,” I finish, almost breathless, as I look over and see genuine interest in her eyes. “I don’t know that I’ve ever said that many words in a row to anyone either.”

“Well, first time for everything.” She looks so fucking cute sitting there in my damp t-shirt ten sizes too big, cross-legged, hair a messy disaster around her fresh face. I’m coming undone around her and to my own shock, I’m okay with it.

My dick jumps thinking about what she said about a first time for everything. Wondering about her first time. My cock aches, harder, harder, harder, until I can’t stand it anymore.

I’m a lion staring down the gazelle. My hunger gnashes its teeth, unwilling to let this moment go. I don’t understand the sudden pounding urge to paint her womb with my cum, but it’s unyielding and I know there will be no peace inside me again until she’s pregnant with our child.

Bound to me forever.

Tags: Dani Wyatt Meant To Be Romance
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