Page 33 of Secondhand Secrets

His brow dipped lower, even though she couldn’t decide what emotion ran through him. Guilt? Annoyance? Maybe he still figured she blamed him for upending her life? Maybe, despite her assurances, she did and he had.

“We’re in the same boat, Ally.” His fingers slipped from hers, and the lost connection gouged a hollow high in her tummy—none more so than when he turned and pulled himself from her car.

She stared out at his stalking gait across the dry rock of his driveway and onto the short wooden steps of his front porch. Stunned into silence, her body moved of its own accord, hands shoving at her car door, her legs storming after him.

She didn’t know what she would do when she reached him, but that decision fell out of her control as he spun around and captured her in his arms.

The satisfying crush of his lips gave her no time to gather her senses. He cradled her head in his hands, deepening and directing the kiss until she went with what he offered, only stopping so long as to utter what she’d yearned to say all along. “I don’t want to miss out on you.”

He pulled away, his stare darting about her face—his breaths exploding, hard and punishing. “What you said back there, it isn’t true. I never moved on from everything to do with Harlow. I didn’t move on from you.”

Fifteen

Ally’s mouth dropped open, as if she wanted to reply, only for her to snap it shut again and say nothing. Though a weighty silence hung between them, Chip had zero regrets about admitting his “forever like” when it came to her. That he left her stunned and speechless only added to this moment’s gratification. Hell, he wanted her stunned and speechless in more ways than one. Wanted to be the one to leave her all scattered and adrift for once.

Prolonging her uncertainty, he studied the details of her pale smooth skin, the flutter of blonde wisps about her face out here on his front porch, the soft pout of her lips—extra red and lush because he’d just been kissing them—all while her watery gaze shifted to a startling and bewildered blue, searching his face for answers.

How could it be he felt in control of this moment while, at the same time, somewhat lost?

Because this can’t last.

For once in his life, he didn’t want to think. Not about that. Not about the consequences. So, he removed all chance of second thoughts and drew closer, ready to kiss her again, his heart skipping at the quick widening of her pupils. A clue this shift was as monumental to her as it was to him.

Her eyelids drifted shut, giving him permission, and he plunged himself into the distinctive taste of her, heat radiating wherever he touched. Her mouth. Her torso pressed to his. His hands sweeping through her hair and the silk of bare skin around her waist.

This kiss was by no means a dance of coordinated movements. Not while he shoved at his front door, ushering her back with him, stumbling at the step leading inside, the situation worse when his phone began to ring.

He growled and pulled the thing from his pocket, still kissing her and clicking a side button to hang up on whoever called, his next action to toss the obnoxious device somewhere on his couch.

She was like no other woman he’d ever been with or would likely be with again, and impulse urged him to rush, another part of him craving to slow time by even just one more damn minute.

Her hands now clasped the sides of his face, pulling him close, nipping and sucking, and kicking off her shoes. Amongst all the movement, her sheer wrap fell away, and all that stood between him was the minuscule fabric of her polka dot bikini.

He chuckled at that, polka dot bikinis being a very Ally thing. Though his chuckle also came from the flurry of elation, this moment itself, so very Ally. Fun with an edge of frustration. And just to prove his point, she laughed back, and he scooped her up, her legs almost reflexively wrapping around him, causing the bulge of his sex to nudge hers.

A gentle moan escaped her, and she tipped her head back. He wanted to groan in response, but so many needs clashed all at once, and he dropped his lips to her neck instead, charging with her toward his bedroom.

In no time at all, he had her on his bed. Though there would be regrets here, no matter how much either of them wanted more from his short stay in Harlow, there was one regret he insisted on eliminating.

Her brows furrowed from beneath him in an unmissable question, and he leaned back a little more, giving her space. “Are you sure about this?”

The tension on her face eased, and she offered a fast nod. “Yes. Heck, yes. I want you.”

His heart jolted at that unequivocal answer. Her answer directed at him. He caught her lower lip for another quick kiss, then drew back again, shaking his head. “This is a bit bananas.”

Laughter shot from her, and she pressed her forehead to his, speaking through a series of chuckles. “This is A LOT bananas.” Her laughter settled to her habitual wide beam, the crinkles at her eyes softening. “But it’s nice, isn’t it?”

Her voice’s light wobble at the end hinted vulnerability. That he might reject her. Perhaps as those who didn’t quite understand her had.

The weight of what was about to happen pressed on him. The scars of all her past rejections. That he, too, would be a source of her pain. That he, too, would feel that pain in the weeks to come. So now, all he could offer was a rain of kisses that told her not to worry.

Nothing in life was guaranteed, right? They’d passed enough regrets between them, but he would not regret this. A short summer fling with a woman who’d always, in some way, meant something to him.

So, he allowed her hands to explore his body, to push his shirt over his head—that unveiling rough and hurried—like she, too, ran from what wouldn’t last, preferring to cling to what she had right now.

Her palms warmed his chest, and he kept his eyes closed through another hard and needy kiss, shutting out what would hurt him most. The meeting of gazes. What he would find in hers and she in his.

Her delicate fingers traversed lower to his abdomen, her pelvis grinding against his and eliciting a sharp hiss as her fingers curled around the band of his shorts. He stopped. Eyelids flinging open. If he didn’t maintain control, if he let himself fall too far here, she’d break his world into pieces he would never be able to pick up.

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