Page 36 of One Chance

Undoubtedly there would be a thousand questions. For years people had speculated there was something more between Annie and me—something we had adamantly denied our entire lives. Over time, those speculations shifted to comments akin toOf course Annie would never be with Lee. Look at him. He’s a playboy and she’s such a nice girl.I stuffed down the anger that bubbled with the thought.

I hated the fact that they were right.

In one moment of recklessness, I had brought into question the very foundation of our friendship.

Typical fucking Lee.

Instead of facing them, I headed toward my truck. I scanned the parking lot, hoping to see Annie waiting. Maybe I could explain whatever it was I was feeling. With no trace of her, I dug the keys to my truck out of my pocket, climbed inside, and headed home.

Once inside my apartment, I tossed my keys on the table in the dish Annie had made. I pulled the dress shirt from my pants and worked open the buttons. As I walked to my bedroom, my dick was still hard from the kiss I had shared with Annie.

Resting my hands against the bathroom sink, I let my head hang. I was still worked up, not only from the kiss, but from the realization that Charles had almost won those dates with her.

My dates.

It hadn’t bothered me that Royal had thrown out a bid for her. He was a shit-stirrer and everyone knew it. But the minute Charles stepped forward with his smug smile, I snapped.

Turning the water to the shower just above tepid, I stripped off the remainder of my clothing and stepped inside. The cool water moved over my tense muscles but did nothing to calm my raging hard-on.

Maybe it was because of my self-induced celibacy, or the way Annie looked, dolled up in her gorgeous party dress. Maybe it was because I had finally—finally—given in to the urge I had to kiss her and claim her as my own. Whatever it was, my cock surged with every thought of her.

I closed my eyes and clamped my hand around my aching cock. I thought of her like I had done a thousand times before. I imagined her smooth curves in front of me as my hands moved over her rounded hips.

I could still taste her kiss in my mouth and imagined my tongue gliding over the freckles on her shoulder. I would drag my teeth over the delicate skin of her collarbone and feel her shiver beneath me.

A soft moan would escape her lips, and her heartbeat would quicken under the thin skin beneath my mouth. Her arms would wrap around my neck, her legs around my waist, her nails biting into the skin on my back, spurring me forward as I worshipped her body.

I imagined she wasn’t Little Orphan Annie, my best friend, or the foster sister of the woman I was supposed to never get over.

Instead, she was simply Annette.

Mine.

I would have her naked, panting and greedy, as I moved my hips between her legs and dragged the head of my cock against her glistening pussy.

Please...she would whisper against my ear.

I groaned as I stroked my cock. When I started talking dirty, telling her every sordid detail of the things I would do to her, her full pink lips would part in a sexy littleoh. Her blue eyes would go wide and dazed with anticipation.

My fantasy flashed forward with my head buried between the soft pillow of her thighs, working her clit until her hips were grinding into my face. I’d grunt and demand more as I reached up to play with her nipple. She wouldn’t be afraid of all the dirty, delicious things I wanted to do with her, because she knew me. Trusted me.

Annie knew I would do anything to take care of her, as if it were my dying oath.

In fact, she would ask me for it.

Beg.

I threw my head back and groaned in the shower. As the fantasy became too much, I tightened my fist and pumped harder and faster. Her name escaped as a desperate moan. I came in hard, hot pulses against the shower tile, one hand bracing myself to keep my knees from buckling.

When my heartbeat quieted, I turned the water even colder and let the icy shower roll across my face and neck. I couldn’t help but wonder if she had made it home okay. I wondered if she really was pissed at me for what I had done. Was she still mad? Excited? I wondered if I’d made the wrong decision to bid on her dates.

But bidding on her was the only thing that feltso right. There was something between Annette and me, whether she wanted to admit it or not.

And I had six dates to prove it to her.

TWELVE

ANNIE

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