Chance of a Lifetime (Anderson Brothers) (9 page)

Chapter Thirteen

C
hance fastened his top button and swept the hair out of his eyes.

“So, why’d you put on a shirt if we’re going swimming?” Gen asked as they crossed the beach together, walking so close they bumped each other like they used to when they were younger. If he kept a straight line and constant speed, she didn’t need a cane or to hold on to him. The powdery white sand was obstacle-free, so she could easily navigate. He loved moments like this in which she had autonomy. He’d actually whooped out loud when he found out she’d moved out of her parents’ house and into an apartment of her own two months ago. A woman like this needed to spread her wings, not be separated from the world by safety glass.

“Because we’re playing spin the bottle first, and fair is fair. You have on two items of clothing, and now so do I.”

“It’s going to be a short game with only two.”

“It seems like an unfair game anyway,” he said, stopping under the shade of a cabana erected near the water. “At least for you, it seems unfair. It’s visual. Players get to see each other with their clothes off.”

She took a large swallow of the beer he’d given her, and the movement of the muscles in her throat mesmerized him. “You’re assigning way too much value to the sense of sight in this game. I’m going to enjoy this every bit as much as you.” She finished off the beer and handed him the bottle, then tilted her head. “You didn’t drink one, did you?”

“No.”

“Andy, my bartender friend, says you never drink at all.”

“I don’t.”

“You used to in high school. A lot.”

“I swore off alcohol a while back.”

“And it doesn’t bug you that I drink?”

“Not at all. It’s a matter of excess. You drink socially and for pleasure. I drank to get drunk. Period. I know myself well enough to know when it’s wise to step up or step back.”

She reached out and touched his face, tracing his features. As she ran her fingertips over his lips, he kissed them, and she grinned. He pulled her to him in a hug and kissed the top of her head. “Time to play. Prepare to lose.”

He spread a large beach towel on the sand under the thatched-roof cabana and smoothed the area in the center, placing the bottle on its side. Not ideal spinning conditions, but it would be a short game, so it would have to do. “Ready?”

“Always.” She shuffled closer, feeling for the towel with her toes, then leaned down to locate the bottle and a place to sit, nearly spilling her breasts out of the swimsuit. Chance took a deep, controlled breath and bit back a groan.
A very short game.

“So, who spins first?”

“You do.”

She grinned and found the bottle. Then gave it a twirl. Because of the soft sand and towel, it only spun a half turn, straight at him. She leaned forward and ran her hands over the bottle, then sat back triumphant. “You lose. Take something off, Anderson.”

“Oh, no. We’re playing your game, but we’re playing it my way. Winner gets to take the item off of the loser.”

“Oooh. I like it.” She crawled closer, then swept her hands out on the towel until she made contact with his knee. Sitting back on her heels, she tilted her head. “So how do we determine what comes off first?”

“Ordinarily, you start with the least revealing.” He placed her hands on his chest. “Start with my shirt.”

Fascinated, he watched her face as she unfastened his top button, then the next. As if nervous, she licked her lips, and her eyebrows drew together in concentration. “It’s weird to undo a button from this side. It’s very different from unbuttoning my own.”

Obviously, she wasn’t in the habit of undressing people, despite the fact that she was a skilled kisser and had responded so enthusiastically to his touch back on the porch.

He throbbed just thinking about holding her as she went off, calling his name in that breathless, mindless way. How had he managed to stay away this long? Why?

After freeing the last button, she swept her hands inside his shirt and across his chest, then pushed it over his shoulders and down his arms. He lifted his hands free of the sleeves, pitched the shirt aside, and then leaned back on his elbows, waiting to see what she’d do. “This is where the sighted person has an advantage.”

“Wanna bet?” She crawled closer, placing her knees at his side, and reached toward him. He held his breath, fascinated as she tentatively ran her fingers up his sternum. He released his lungs on a whoosh as her other hand joined the first and she swept them out across his chest, then down his abdomen, stopping above the navel.

“Your skin is smooth.”

“Did you expect warts or scales?”

She laughed. “No, but your muscles are so hard underneath the skin. It’s…not what I expected.”

Which made him wonder what kind of guys she’d been with. “It’s the result of many hours in the dojang.”

“That’s your martial arts gym.”

“Yes.”

He closed his eyes as she set her hands in motion again, sweeping up his stomach and fanning across his pecs. His muscles contracted as she brushed his nipples.

“Oh.” She grazed them again, and he sat upright. “Oh, that’s cool. Yours are sensitive like mine.” She leaned forward and touched the tip of her tongue to his nipple, and he groaned. “I love this game,” she said.

It was about to be the shortest game in history if she licked him again. He’d have her on her back on that towel in a matter of seconds if she kept this up. “My turn.”

He spun the bottle and it went one and a quarter times around to point right at her, seated by his side. She reached out and located the mouth of the bottle and frowned. “I was hoping to get to see the rest of you.”

“The game isn’t over yet.”

She reached behind her neck to unfasten the top of her suit, but he brushed her hands away. “My job, remember?”

That lifted her mood, and when her breasts bounced free of their restraint, she sighed.

He sat back and simply stared in awe. She was perfect. Her large, high breasts rose and fell with her rapid breaths, nipples erect and just waiting for attention. Attention he planned to give them, but not just yet. “Your turn.”

Her brow wrinkled in confusion.

“You’re underestimating the sense of sight. Just seeing you makes me so hard it hurts.”

She grinned and spun the bottle, straight at him, of course.

“Come see for yourself.”

Her breasts jiggled as she crawled toward him, and he bit back a curse. Fuck, she was hot. And fun. And smart. But as she reached for him, she hesitated, only for a moment, but long enough to raise his suspicions. And when she trembled as she fumbled with the button on his shorts, she confirmed those suspicions.

He stayed her hands, then pulled them to his chest over his heart. “Number ten is still in play, isn’t it?”

She didn’t say anything, but turned her head away.

If she was still a virgin, it was a game changer. He needed to slow way down and let her take it at her speed, and on her terms.

“Gen. It’s me. We’ve always been honest with each other.”

“No, we haven’t. You weren’t honest with me for ten years. I’m not sure you’re truly being honest with me even now.”

“I have never ever lied to you.” He’d lied to himself. But no more.

He popped the button on his fly and unzipped his shorts and pulled them off, then took her hand and placed it on his hardened flesh. “Look. See how you affect me. How much I want you.”

Tentatively at first, she explored him with her fingertips, face turned to the side. With gentle thoroughness, she ran the tips of her fingers over the head and across the slit as if she were reading braille. Then she explored the length of the shaft and his balls. All through her explorations, he fought to remain very still.

“It’s larger than I expected.”

He grinned. “Music to my ears.”

Her brow furrowed.

“What’s wrong?”

“It won’t fit.”

Her innocent frankness was the sexiest thing he’d ever experienced. “Sure it will. When the time is right.” He put his hand over hers. “Please relax. This is not the time. Let’s simply enjoy each other. No pressure.”

“Chance.” She took a deep breath. “I haven’t ever… Ten is still in play.”

Which both thrilled and terrified him in equal parts. “And it’ll stay that way until you’re sure you’re ready. Whether it’s a day, a week, or ten years from now.”

“Not ten years,” she said. “No way.”

G
en loved the feel of Chance’s body. All hard muscle beneath smooth, warm skin. So unlike her own softness. Foreign and mouthwatering.

She applied pressure to his shoulder. “Lie back. I’m not finished looking.”

Wordlessly, he complied, stretching out on the towel in the soft sand. She knew this was taking an inordinate amount of self-control on his part. When she touched him before, his muscles strained to move—to thrust like he was designed to do. But he hadn’t—he’d remained still for her. How like Chance. He’d always been that way with her. Quiet and patient.

Maybe that’s why other guys seemed so awkward. They filled the space with chatter and action rather than giving her time to adjust.

Or maybe they just weren’t Chance.

For as long as she could remember, she’d loved him. And then when her hormones hit in her early teens, she’d wanted him. But what was once a general longing was now a razor-sharp need.

She placed her hand over his sternum, feeling his strong, even heartbeats as they vibrated up her arm and wound through her chest. How in the world could Chance believe he was bad for her? Maybe it was guilt. Walter had always blamed him for the accident. He still did. Her stomach twisted at the thought of how furious her brother would be if he knew they were together like this.

She’d worry about the fallout later. Regardless of what they faced when they returned to real life, she had the here and now, and she was determined to make the most of it.

Starting at his neck, she began a thorough exploration of what she’d been missing for the past decade. From his wide shoulders, to the flat planes of his chest with those maddeningly sensitive nipples, to the ridged hardness of his abdomen, she investigated every inch of him, skipping the most exciting parts, because even though he was very still, his breathing measured like he was meditating, she knew it was a test for him. It certainly would be for her. Heck, if he’d been checking out her body like that, she’d have been squirming and wiggling and losing her mind—like back on the porch.

But not Chance. He indulged her even when she asked him to roll over so she could “see” his back.

Reading his body, she ran her sensitive fingers over him, shoulders, spine, even the hollows on the side of his narrow, muscular backside that made her heart hammer harder. Long thighs and hard, powerful calves. And ticklish feet. Chance was ticklish. How had she not known that?

“Enough,” he gasped as he pulled his foot away, laughing. “Are you satisfied now?”

“Not even close.”

He shifted on the towel, and she reached out to find him on his side, head propped on an arm, no doubt studying her the way she’d been studying him. Suddenly, she felt self-conscious.

“No way,” he said. “Don’t you dare get shy on me now.”

She dropped her arms from where she’d folded them over her chest.

“I have a challenge for you,” he said.

She lifted her chin.

“I dare you to take off that bathing suit bottom and come swim with me.”

Something about touching him and feeling the power in his body had muted her bravado. Sure, she’d read about sex and sat through way too many movies with Sherry, but Chance’s body naked, in real life, as opposed to her dreams, exceeded expectations and was…daunting. So was being completely bared in front of him.

“Now, listen here. I just lay perfectly still while you checked out every inch of my body. This is simply fair play. If you’d rather, you can tell me a truth.”

She fought the urge to squirm. “What truth?”

He leaned close and placed his mouth against her ear. “Tell me what you were imagining as you ran your hands over my body just now.”

Whoa. She was imagining all kinds of things. Amazing things from her books, from her movies, from her dreams… Things that went way past number ten and numbered in the hundreds. No way was she answering that question.

“Challenge accepted. Let’s swim.”

Chapter Fourteen

C
hance wiped the water from his face and easily dodged Gen.

“Marco,” she called, waiting for his response in the waist-deep water.

“Polo,” he answered. She grinned and lunged in his direction but missed by several inches.

She was absolutely gorgeous in the brilliant sunlight, water sliding down her body, breasts bouncing as she pursued him. It was tempting to stand still and let her tag him so he could get his hands on her slick, curvy body.

When they were children, they’d played this game for hours.

“Marco.” She was very close now, which was part of the fun. Seeing her response when he answered from right nearby, then dodged her tag.

“Pol—” But before he could even finish, she lunged, wrapping her arms around his waist.

She giggled, still clinging to him. “Gotcha!”

“You sure did.”

And just like that, the mood shifted, and something different replaced the playful free-spirited feel of the game. He hardened against her soft curves, and she ran her hand up his back, nails lightly scraping his wet skin. Then she slid her skin against him experimentally, her thighs on either side of his leg.

“This is very different than when we played it as kids.” Her voice was breathy.

He stood still as she dragged her nails down his back and over his ass, barely hanging on to the last thread of his control.

She reached between them under the water and took him in her hands. “It’s a lot more fun to catch you now.”

He moaned as she stroked him. “It’s a lot more fun to be caught.”

She stopped and turned her head.

He didn’t hear anything, but then her hearing had always been much better than his. “What is it?”

“A boat motor.”

Fuck. What crap timing.
“That must be Will and Claire returning from their errands.” Sure enough, a boat appeared on the horizon, zipping their way.

“Better get dressed,” she said, disappointment clear on her face.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him. “Covering you up is the biggest waste ever. You are gorgeous, Gen. Inside and out.”

And just when he didn’t think she could be more beautiful, she smiled and proved him wrong.

“T
here’s sand in my bathing suit,” Gen grumbled on their way to meet Will and Claire at the pier.

“I warned you to put it on in the water.”

He had, but she’d thought it would be faster to do it on the towel where they’d played spin the bottle.

Not slowing his pace through the sand, he squeezed her hand. “I’ll lick it off of you later.”

Holy shit.
She stopped short, and he laughed.

“I was only kidding, Gen. Sort of.”

She wasn’t used to sexual banter like this, or this kind of lightheartedness. Her family was so serious. It was like she couldn’t find her balance. And though she loved it and found herself swept into his spell so easily, it unnerved her that his touch was so practiced. He knew exactly what to do to bring her to orgasm earlier. Exactly where to touch for the maximum impact.

Which begged the question: What had he been doing these last ten years while she mourned his loss? Why, if he found her desirable, had he disappeared from her life so completely?

She felt for his face and traced his dimples. Even his smile turned her on. But what if she’d been right all these years and he had simply moved on to better things? Perhaps the random encounter in the bar was just that—random—and she was no different to him than an item on her bucket list: a task to complete.

This wonderful dreamlike state she was experiencing might just be that: nothing more than a passing dream.

And that just might kill her.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“No, no… I’m fine.” But she was certainly going to be warier from this point forward and not get swept away in his spell. She couldn’t spend her next ten years like the last, mourning something that might have been. At least now she might get a chance to speak to Will, since Chance was clearly not going to give her any new information.

“What do you see?” she asked as they walked along the beach in the direction of the pier.

“Well, Claire’s already out of the boat, and now Will’s climbing out and…whoops. He just dropped the towel wrapped around his waist.”

Claire’s laughter drifted to them over the waves gently lapping the shore.

“Shit, Will! Cover that thing up!” Chance shouted.

“We stopped for a swim,” Will answered, and Claire giggled again.

“Well, keep that towel tucked in tight. I have no desire to see your little toy squirt gun again.”

“This, my little brother, is no squirt gun. It’s a Super Soaker!”

Gen’s cheeks heated. Her brother never joked like that.

“I thought you guys weren’t coming back until dinner,” Chance said.

Will chuckled. “Well, you were here all alone with a pretty woman, so I figured you might need a little brotherly advice or a tutorial.”

“And I figure you might need a little brotherly roundhouse kick to the nuts.”

A gentle touch guided her up the beach toward the sand. “Ignore them,” Claire said. “They’re cavemen.”

Snorts and grunts and the sounds of wrestling came from behind them, mixed with laughter.

“What do you see?”

Claire stopped for a moment. “Two grown-up kids rolling in the sand.” She put her elbow out for Gen, and they resumed their walk up the beach toward the house. “I’ve never seen Chance this happy. He’s better every day. Will said it was pretty grim for a few years.”

“What was grim?”

“Chance. His life. His future.”

Gen stopped abruptly, dropping Claire’s elbow.

“You don’t know.”

She shook her head.

“It’s really not my place to say anything. I didn’t know him at all until a year or so ago.”

God. What had happened? She didn’t know anything about what he’d been up to, other than what she’d read or heard about from friends.

“Nobody tells me anything, and I wander around in the dark, literally, hoping someone will drop a scrap of information. My parents, my brother, now you.”

“You should ask Chance.”

“I did. He says he stayed away because of a promise to my brother.”

“That’s true, and all three brothers take promises very seriously because their dad didn’t, but there’s more. You need to talk to Will. I’ll make sure you get a chance to talk to him alone.”

She grabbed Claire’s arm and turned her to face her, desperate. “Please. I don’t know what to do. He touches me and I melt in his hands. He talks and I believe every word. But I know… I know…” Tears stung her eyes. Freaking eyes that kept the world from her. “He’ll leave, and Claire, I can’t take it if he does. I can’t do it again.” She put her hand to her chest. “I can’t hurt like that.”

Claire pulled her into an embrace. “Listen to me, Gen. I don’t know a lot, but I know this. He won’t leave. He’s still broken, and he’s rebellious, even now, but if you give him a chance, he will never leave you again. That, I know. The Anderson brothers are pains in the ass, but they’re fiercely loyal—to one another and to people they love.”

She gave a wet sniffle against Claire’s shoulder, hoping she didn’t ruin her shirt.

Another round of laughter came from the brothers, followed by some loud grunts as they tussled in the sand near the pier.

Continuing toward the house, Claire wrapped an arm around her and leaned close. “Did I mention they were pains in the ass? Yep. Big, strong, silly, lovable pains in the ass.”