Page 11 of One Last Chance

Sophia left half an hour ago. I had to call her a cab. She drank way too much and wasn’t feeling well. I tried everything to get her to stay, but she couldn’t. I wanted to leave with her, but she told me to stay and enjoy myself, and because Sam was with me, I thought, why not? But now, dancing with Domenic like this makes me feel a little guilty.

We begin to sway to the music, and our bodies move in sync. No words are spoken, our eyes are doing all the communicating, and that’s fine by me. I want to remember every touch, every breath that leaves his mouth, every look that tells me he wants me.

Geez, I must be drunk.

I leave for New York next week, and I don’t know what I’m going to do without seeing Domenic again. But the internship is a fantastic opportunity, and I couldn’t say no to that. Plus, I can still come out to Vixen Falls and visit now and then.

Not wanting the song to end, I enjoy every single part of this moment. I want to recall tonight because once I leave for New York, I need to remember how it feels to be in Domenic’s arms. I squeeze my eyes shut and inhale, noticing his cologne, which gives me a sense of belonging.

With my eyes still shut, I rest my cheek against his chest and travel my hands up his broad back, which is covered in his Vixen High number48jersey. His hands wrap around me and rest on the small of my back, and he pulls me in closer as our bodies continue to move to the music. It’s as though there is no one in the room except for us. I feel his hands travel a little lower, and then they slide over my buttocks and stop once they are at the edge of my dress skirt. His fingers brush light strokes on my exposed thighs, and I inhale at the intimacy his touch creates.

I feel heat at the apex of my thighs, and immediately I squeeze them together to control the throbbing that’s begun at my clit. I have never felt this way before. With the alcohol running through my veins, I find the courage to pull back and look into his eyes, which I find are filled with lust. “Domenic, I want you. I want you to be my first.”

His eyes widen, and in one quick movement, he pulls back, grabs my hand, and begins leading me through the other couples who are dancing and then up the stairs to his bedroom, I’m assuming. I feel butterflies erupt in my stomach as we reach the closed bedroom door.

Before he opens it, he turns to face me, all serious now. “Chloe, are you sure you want this? Because, baby, I have a feeling that once I begin, I won’t be able to stop.”

My words are caught at the back of my throat. His expression is genuine, and it proves that he cares about me. I should stop him, I should say,“No, I don’t want to do this. I can’t, you’re Sophia’s boyfriend.”But I can’t. I have loved this boy since he sat across from me in the cafeteria on the first day of school. He had a football in his hand and was spinning it around on the table, his football buddies seated around him.

We had locked eyes, and in that moment, I felt something for this boy that I never knew existed. The problem was, my friend, Sophia, set her sights on him too, and it wasn’t long before they were dating. They were the hottest couple at school, the golden couple—head cheerleader and quarterback.

I’d tried to forget my feelings, how his smile was the perfect smile that revealed straight white teeth, how his black hair always looked messy, and how his green eyes, that are hypnotizing were not attractive.

We became friends, always hanging out because wherever Sophia went, she wanted me with her. I was shy and quiet and always felt out of place with them holding hands and stealing kisses here and there, but it wasn’t long before I met Sam. He moved in next door to me that year and started at Vixen High. I sat next to him one day, and we started talking. We clicked right away, and he mentioned he was on the high school lacrosse team. I didn’t know much about the sport, so I went along to all of his games, and from that day on, we were inseparable.

People like Justin Adams, Domenic’s best friend and on the football team, would tease Sam and me constantly, saying how he should just fuck me already.

I hated Justin. Why Domenic hung out with him, I have no clue. But Sophia would just tell me to ignore him.

One time, Sam managed to get Justin into a headlock and had him on the floor on his ass in a few seconds. Justin stopped teasing us from that day forward. He may have acted all macho and shit, but Sam proved him to be just another bully.

Now here I am, about to enter Domenic’s room, with his face so close to mine, I can feel his breath hit my cheek. “Chloe, tell me now, do you want this? Because I want you, I’ve wanted you since the first day I met you.” His hands reach out to my face, and he holds it in his warm palms. “Chloe, you need to know how I feel about you.”

As tears pool in my eyes, his words meaning everything to me. I’ve wanted to hear them for so long, and to know he feels the same about me as I do for him fills my heart with joy.

“Then why, Domenic? Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

His hands drop to his sides, and then he raises one and runs it through his hair in frustration. His eyes show sadness, and yet they hold hope. “Come in my room, not out here,” he says, looking around at our surroundings. He gestures to the bed and kicks his bedroom door shut, and then walks me to the bed.

I sit, giggling, feeling a little giddy from all the alcohol.

Domenic sits beside me, and I fall back against the bed, enjoying the softness of his dark blue comforter. He looks down at me, smiling, and his smile literally takes my breath away. This boy is so beautiful, he’s almost too good-looking—perfect teeth, perfect lips, green eyes with a hint of amber, scruffy black hair—yes, perfect. His nose is the only thing that’s not perfect on his flawless face. It is slightly crooked from all the beatings he takes being a quarterback, but to me, he’s still beautiful.

Lifting the side of his mouth, he bends forward, his body over mine. “What are you thinking about, Chloe?” I don’t miss how his voice is lower and how he licks his lips as if he wants to taste me—and I know I want to tastehim.

I love him.

I want him.

Ineedhim.

“You,” I whisper. I reach my hand up and slide the back of it down his jawbone, feeling the roughness of his stubble against my skin. He turns his face, so his lips touch my hand, and he kisses it. Domenic grasps my wrist, keeping it there, and places small feather-light kisses down my arm, past my elbow, and then over to my neck, where he darts his tongue out and licks before kissing the same spot. I gasp, feeling the throbbing between my legs again, and goosebumps cover my skin. I place my hand on the back of his head as he continues to devour my neck, and then he moves to the valley between my breasts.

“You smell incredible, Chloe.”

I close my eyes, enjoying the brush of his lips against my skin, and the tip of his tongue feels amazing as he traces the curve of my breast.

Not being able to control myself, I travel my hands down the back of his shirt and lift, exposing his toned back to my hungry hands. I want this, I want him. God, so much.

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