Revel (Second Chance Romance #1)(39)

Henry’s lip quivered and Declan did the closest thing to hugging his father that he’d ever done - he placed a hand on his gaunt shoulder.

“Dad,” Declan said. “It’s not your fault. Momma was sick… She wasn’t well. People don’t do what she did because of just one thing or one person. You can’t blame yourself. I’ve spent plenty of time thinking of what I could have done differently, or what warning signs I missed, but it’s all a waste of time. In the end, I don’t think there’s anything we could have done to keep her from making the decision she made. Sometimes the world is just too much for a person to handle.” Declan was trying his best not to cry. Not now. “But I know she’s okay, Dad. Wherever we go after this, whatever happens, it’s a place where she can be okay again. The pain of living inside her head is gone. She’s free. And she’s waiting for us. You know that?”

Henry nodded, “It’s the only thing that gets me through this cancer shit. That and the narcotics.”

********

Henry drifted off after that. After watching his father sleep for a while, Declan walked out to the carriage house to have a moment alone and drown himself in nostalgia.

Once Charlotte left Charleston years ago, Declan could never bring himself to go back into the carriage house. Even now, as he entered it 10 years later, he swore he could still smell her in the curtains, in the sheets. He walked into the room and he could see the apparition of her leaning over the vanity in her underwear, putting on lipstick, yelling at him to stop ogling her ass.

But you’re so beautiful, he would have said.

God, he still loved her. His muscles hurt from the pain of missing her. The previous night was both a dream and a nightmare. Running his hands up and down her body had been a piece of heaven returned to him.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, the same bed on which he’d first made love to her so long ago. There had to be a way to fix all the wrongs.

Fate had conspired to have them physically collide with each other. Twice. One collision could be dismissed as something random. A second felt more like grand design.

Declan had tried to forget about her through booze and a buffet of other women, women who couldn’t come close to equaling the intensity of his passion for her. None of it worked.

He couldn’t let her leave this city without one more chance.





Ten Years Ago…


Nothing could quite equal their night on Capers Island. But they’d tried many times to replicate it.

The best nights were the ones in the carriage house. Charlotte loved being romanced and surprised, but if she was honest she preferred the comfort of the little home they’d made that summer and her most treasured memories lived there.

She’d come home from work and Declan would already be in bed. Usually in just a pair of boxers with a takeout order of Thai food on the nightstand.

“Is it terrible that I never get sick of Thai?” she’d ask as she’d leap on top of him. His hands would wander down the curve of her back to her ass.

“Is it terrible that I never get sick of your body?” he’d say as he kissed down her neck. “Let’s get you out of these clothes. I’m hungry.”

Charlotte would laugh. “My clothes aren’t stopping you from eating, Mr. Hungry.”

“Oh yes they are,” he’d say. “I prefer my dessert first.”

Their routine was heaven. She’d let him slide off her jeans while she pulled off her shirt and bra, leaving her naked except for a very tiny pair of panties.

“Ah, pink,” he’d say. “I like pink days.”

She’d squirm, “Please. Take them off.”

He’d slide them off slowly and then place his face inches from her sex, reverently inhaling her scent, the feel of his breath on her clit being absolute torture.

“What do you want?” he’d ask. His voice lowered a couple of octaves when he was aroused. She loved that about him. He was all man.

“You,” she’d plead. “Your mouth on me. Make me come.”

Before she’d have to ask again, he was devouring her, coaxing an orgasm out of her with his tongue. She felt like she was being opened up by him, slowly, and with such intensity that her heart would race. Before she knew it, she was screaming out his name, letting him know he was giving her exactly what her body so desperately needed.

She’d ache to have him inside her by then, and beg him for it, but his unquenchable thirst for her demanded a series of her climaxes on his face before he’d seek his own pleasure.

Eventually, he’d have to f*ck her. His cock would become so hard that it was painful. Her luscious curves drove him insane and he’d enter her with such force that she would cry out from his girth. But her wetness welcomed him, enveloped him, and he would f*ck her hard at first, needing to pound her so she could feel his desire for her.

“Fuck,” she’d cry. “You’re so hard, baby. My * can barely take it.”

“Good,” he’d growl. “I want you to feel it tomorrow. So you’ll remember.”

She came so easily for him, so eagerly, and he got so much pleasure out of knowing that he was the man making her come. He’d throw her legs over his shoulders to penetrate her more deeply, watching her eyes roll back in her head from the ecstasy, making it so hard for him not to release into her right then.