What He Wants: Trusting You prequel novella (7 page)

“Are you okay? I could see it in your eyes that it hurt you in the beginning.” Gently, he pulled out and rolled over to his side so he could slide the condom off and throw it away before holding me in his arms. He was so gentle; it made my heart ache. How I wish it could all be real.

“It hurt,” I admitted nervously, “but I figured it would once I got a good look at you.”

He smiled, but then it disappeared. “When was the last time you’ve been with a man?”

Sadly, I looked over at him and sighed. “A while.”

Brushing the hair off my face, he held onto my chin and kissed my lips. “Stay here and I’ll be right back. I know what’ll help you.”

Sliding off the bed, he strolled into the bathroom and shut the door. Water began to run and I could hear him moving around in the bathroom. A few minutes later, the door opened and I expected the light to blind me, but it didn’t; there was a soft glow coming from inside.

I started to get up, but Brett stopped me by pulling me up into his arms before I could get off the bed. “I got you, baby,” he murmured.

“I can walk you know,” I teased as he carried me into the bathroom.

The room was lit with candlelight, and the bathtub—big enough to fit ten people—was surrounded by dozens of them, and steamy from the hot, bubbly water.

“What did you put in the water? It smells amazing.” I couldn’t pinpoint it, but it kind of reminded me of chamomile and something else.

Shrugging his shoulders, he looked down at the water, his gaze far off … almost sad. “I’m not exactly sure. It was given to me years ago by someone very special to me. I was told it could help heal anything. I figured we both could use it tonight.”

He set me in the hot water and climbed in behind me; I immediately relaxed when he put his arms around me. I wanted to ask him who the special person was, but figured it was best to not know. I didn’t want to imagine him being with another woman.

Instead, I laid my head against his chest and breathed him in, trembling when he ran his warm hands over my heated skin. There was nothing sexual about the way he caressed my arms and my back, but my insides clenched and lit up like fire; I wanted him again. My body was sore, but if I only had one night with him I needed more.

The bathtub was filled almost to the brim with water, so I slowly turned around to face him, straddling his waist. Furrowing his brows, he gazed down at my lips, and then back up to my eyes.

“Are you okay? Do you want to get out?”

I shook my head and reached down into the water, wrapping my hand around his cock. Immediately, it jumped and began to get hard. Brett groaned and leaned his head back against the tub.

“Melissa, are you sure this is what you want? I don’t want to hurt you.”

The harder his cock got, the harder I massaged him. “I’m not worried about that. Just sit back and let me do the work this time.”

Holding his face in my hands, I kissed his lips and plunged my tongue inside so I could taste him. I moaned into his mouth and slid my body against him, holding him close. My clit throbbed uncontrollably, and I knew that I wouldn’t last long once I got started, even if it did hurt.

“Do we need to use a—”

“No,” I growled, biting the lobe of his ear. “I’m on the pill.”

Moaning, he lifted me up in his arms and tilted me back so that he could suck my nipples. “Then what are you waiting for?” he teased, releasing me.

Biting my lip, I lowered onto his body and slid all the way down. The soothing water helped the tenderness, but I could still feel him stretching me. It felt so amazingly good I didn’t want it to end. Up and down I moved my body over him, feeling him tense beneath me. The faster I went, the harder he gritted his teeth.

“I’m going to come, baby. You’re so fucking tight.”

Knowing this was the last time I’d be with him, I held on tight and closed my eyes as my body was sent over the edge at the same time he released inside of me. I concentrated on his breathing, the way he rubbed my back as his cock pulsated inside me, filling me with his release. He was so tender yet rough, a gentleman yet dirty at times; the perfect man.

Slowly, I slid off of him and kissed his smiling lips before lounging back into the steamy water. After washing off with the soap, Brett took my hand and helped me out of the tub, wrapping a towel around my body that he had hanging on the towel rack. He gently dried off my skin and stared down at me, his gaze serious.

“What’s wrong?” I asked softly.

Pulling me into his bedroom, he threw back the covers on his bed and I slid in with him following behind. He faced me and held me in his arms, tracing his fingers across my lips. “Stay with me,” he murmured, “and I’m not talking about just tonight.”

My chest tightened in regret; this was what I wanted to avoid. I didn’t want to get attached to him or to anyone for that matter. It was too scary and it would only break my heart.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I want to see you again, Melissa. Not just so we can fuck, but so we can get to know each other. I know you feel the connection just as much as I do.”

Closing my eyes, I shook my head. “I don’t know if I can. I’ve been hurt one too many times.” When his lips touched mine, I opened my eyes and sighed, leaning into his kiss.

“So have I,” he replied, “but that’s in the past. This is now. You can’t be afraid for the rest of your life.”

We stared at each other for the longest time in silence, my heart aching. “No, you can’t,” I whispered. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

He nodded, even though I knew he didn’t believe me. Kissing me gently, he laid his head down and sighed, keeping his gaze on me. “Goodnight, Melissa.”

“Goodnight, Brett.”

Laying my head down, I reluctantly closed my eyes and let him hold me. I knew that if I looked into his beautiful gray gaze again that I would falter; I would stay. I couldn’t let that happen. Over time his hands began to slow their circles on my back and his breathing became slower … deeper. Opening my eyes, I peered over at the clock and was shocked to see that three hours had passed. Brett’s arm was still around my waist, and deep down I didn’t want to leave him; I wanted to see where this road could lead me.

Should I stay? Or should I go? What the hell was I going to do?

(A Second Chances Standalone)

(The continuation of Melissa and Brett’s story)

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A NIGHT AT The bar, several tequila sunrises, and a gorgeous guy staring at me from across the room … how could I resist? Talking became flirting, flirting became touching, and then the touching led me to where I was now.

There were only a couple more hours until the first rays of sunshine would alert the coming of dawn. I was angry with myself for letting things go too far with the man sleeping soundly off to my side. How could I be so stupid yet love everything I did?

Sleeping with random men was not something I would ever do, and definitely not something I should be doing now. I was twenty-eight years old and already divorced from my college love, who made the mistake of sleeping with our whore of a neighbor. She’d spread her legs for anyone. Daniel just couldn’t resist, and of course I couldn’t resist divorcing him when he begged me to give him another chance.

Marrying him was a mistake, and I couldn’t believe I was stupid enough to think he would stay faithful. After all, I had known of his reputation as a wealthy playboy. He pursued me with a vengeance and I fell hard.
Shame on me once, never twice.

After our divorce was final, my friends decided it was time I celebrated … and boy did I celebrate. We went out to bars every weekend and I dated many different men, which soon became tiring; they were either too wrapped up in themselves or complete douche bags. I had yet to find a man that was completely interested in who I was, and took the time to put my needs first. At least, until my gaze met the handsome stranger’s from across the room of the bar whose bed I now occupied.

My lover for the evening had drifted off to sleep not long after we spent the night rolling around the sheets. Even though he was a one night stand, he sure knew every way possible to make my body scream for his touch; it was intoxicating. It shocked me, but I indulged in the reckless fun for that short amount of time. I felt more wanted and desired in those hours of sex than I had the entire time I was married.

My ex was a good lover, but nothing compared to the passion and heat of the man off to my right. He was sleeping on his stomach, the naked flesh of his back exposed to the moonlight drifting in through the window. His muscled arm was curled under his pillow and his breathing was light and relaxed … so peaceful, and perfect. Even in his sleep he was one of the most handsome men I’d ever laid eyes on.

No,
I scolded silently to myself. He may appear perfect, but I knew better than to fall into the trap of good looks and a charming smile.
I will not be fooled again.

Slowly slipping out of bed, I gathered up my clothes that were strewn on the floor and quietly put them on, trying my best not to make any sound. I ran my fingers through my auburn waves, but gave up when all I felt were knots. It was going to be a bitch to brush out when I got home.

Before I snuck out of the bedroom, I took one last look at the man who had been the most aggressive and passionate lover I’d ever had. His dark, tousled hair was mussed up from my relentless tugging, and his closed eyes hid the sparkling gray color that glowed the entire time he ravished my body.

I must say … I didn’t regret what had happened with this man, and if I had the chance I’d probably do it again. He lived in a swanky condo in downtown Charlotte which I knew had to cost a fortune. Then again, my experience with wealthy men was tainted by my ex-husband … although, this man was
nothing
like my ex. It was clear he had money, but he never gloated about it when we talked at the bar. It was refreshing to talk to a man who was confident enough not to brag about himself the whole night.

However, no one was perfect and I knew he had to be far from it.

Shutting the bedroom door with a quiet click, I grabbed my purse off of the kitchen table and started to tiptoe to the front door, but stopped. Pulling out a piece of paper in my purse, I scribbled my number on it and laid it on the kitchen table.
What am I doing?

I stared at the paper lying there and immediately thought of one word … desperate. And desperate was something I was not. Snatching the paper off of the table, I crumpled it in my hand. The guy was probably a player just like all the other men I’d come across. What made him so special that I’d give in and lower my guard?

Nothing,
my mind screamed at me.

Jamming the crinkled paper into my purse, I tiptoed quietly to the front door and slipped out silently. There was one thing for certain, and my heart hated me for it. I wasn’t going to forget what happened tonight or the lover that made me orgasm more times in just a few hours than I had in the past year. The ache between my legs was going to remind me for the next couple of days what went on during this raging night of passion. As I sauntered into the elevator, my body screamed for me to go back. It wanted me to indulge in another round of a sex induced high with the man that had me panting for him like no other.