Secondhand secrets, p.10
Secondhand Secrets, page 10
“But seriously, is Harlow really so bad these days?”
His long silence signaled a genuine desire for an answer. So, she stifled a frown at the sight of his driveway and gave him what he wanted. “No, and that’s the problem. Nothing’s changed since you left. Nothing. Literally everyone I know and love is here, and my family is so great that separating myself from them, in any way, feels like betrayal. So, apart from a few short trips around Minnesota, I’ve never really been anywhere else.”
Despite the ache of offering that admission, she pulled into his driveway and set the handbrake, turning to get a full look at him. “What was it like, Chip? Yah know, leaving?”
He squinted against the glare through the windshield, his face otherwise lax and heartbreakingly still, as though he contemplated all that she’d said, along with his answer.
“It was tough.” He pressed his lips together and gave her a weak frown. “Everything was unfamiliar. The people in Boston had a completely different way of doing things. The pace was fast, and no one ever had time. I guess that’s the thing about Harlow. Home was always less about the location and more about the people, and that’s what I missed most.”
She tried to ignore the muscles bunching in her throat and offered him a joking sort of smile. “Did you miss me?”
His gaze didn’t leave her, and he didn’t blink, his face not at all mirroring her humor. “More than anyone.”
More silence took over, heavier than before while neither looked away, and her heart pounded hard against her ribcage.
What to say next? What to do?
She knew what she wanted to do, but they’d already decided against that, hadn’t they?
Though she could barely breathe, she focused on her hand resting on the center console and searched for more words. Words being the safer option.
“I missed you too.” Her voice cracked a little, and so she fought to distract from that small weakness by meeting his gaze, the depth of what she had to say growing with every second. “I guess that’s how I ended up latching on to Sarah. Every conversation with her returned little pieces of you. I wish I could have gone up to visit, but you just seemed so far away.”
“You could have called.” He held a pause that wrenched her heart. “You could have asked to swing by anytime. I would have found a way to get you to Boston.”
She shrugged and gave a tight laugh. “You coulda called too.”
But she understood that the years had a way of escaping. That imposing on another person, even just to say, “Hello” wasn’t always as simple as picking up the phone. “Anyway, I guess the years got away from me too, and I figured you’d moved on from everything to do with this little town. Can’t say I blame you.”
“Ally”—the heat of his hand caught hers, and she blinked down to where their palms met, his fingers now interlocked with hers—“you were always welcome.”
Her lips parted, but for the longest time, she couldn’t speak through the deep ache just begging for him to pull her close. She wanted to drown in the details of who he’d become. To lose the fear of what would happen if she did. As well as the fear of what would become of her when he inevitably left.
“It’s not fair.” That whisper crumbled past her lips, but his hand clasped hers a little tighter, like he understood. Like he wanted her to explain further. So, she scoffed and continued, “Up until a few days ago, you were just some kid from my past. Someone I learned to live without and merely thought on from time to time. And just as I’d come to figure I’d survive fine on my own, with my feet planted firmly on the ground, here you come along again, changed, and still a little the same. All too quick to turn my world upside down.”
“That was never my intention.”
“I know.”
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.
So, he took his lips from hers and sat, catching her hand and relocating it to a spot beside her head. Uncertainty filled her eyes, but not so much that she didn’t seem to catch his message. She should lay still. Allow him to set the pace.
Next, he slipped the straps of her bikini down, then pulled the knotted string between her small breasts. The dart of her gaze warmed his face, but he didn’t return her stare, his focus caught on this gradual reveal. The push of one bikini cup aside, then the other, his length growing at the sight of her radiant skin and two perfect, pink nipples calling for his attention.
For this brief moment, Ally Egan was his. All his. Beautiful, sprawled, and ready beneath him. Though he didn’t want to wait, he made himself savor this image, to file it in some deep and impenetrable corner of his mind, one that might survive anything life and old age would impose on him one day. He drew his hand down to the last of her clothes, again taking his time in another sweet unveiling.
The bend of her legs helped him, and his vision soon filled with the dusting of light blonde curls at the juncture of her sex. He reached out to her now, her breath catching as he placed his palm over her right breast, his gaze finally hitting hers, though he failed to move his lips to comment on her perfection.
No words seemed enough, so he set about making her feel instead, leaning to capture a nipple between his lips, teasing her with his tongue until she arched into him and sighed out her pleasure.
He swept his arms under her ribcage and pressed her into him, intensifying his hold and the pressure on her breast. Her hands were quick to find the back of his head, her short nails rewarding him with a mild and gratifying ripple of pain.
He wanted to take her quickly, but this moment seemed so fleeting, and so he kept his mission to preserve her in his memory. He’d already captured the sound of her moan in his brain, the sheer arousal in having her laid out before him. Naked. Hair fanned over his pillow. Each heavy sigh demanding more.
He logged it all and searched further, to the gentle resistance of her tummy calling for his lips, his kisses there filling his senses with her soft scent. Before long, he slid his hands under her to the dip of her back, proceeding lower still until she once again moved through reflex and opened for him.
He paused to appreciate her there, all glistening and pink folds belying any secrets she might seek to keep on her state of arousal. And she wasn’t alone.
His every nerve ending prickled and stung for her, but he dared to meet her gaze again, her wide-eyed bewilderment returning as though she read his thoughts before he even formed them.
He could have touched her some more, but this first time—perhaps his only time with her—was about holding on to as much as he could, and his mouth was far more sensitive than his hands.
So he drew lower and landed a tentative kiss to the center of her arousal, the instant shuttering of her eyes and her ensuing low purr, spurring him on.
Her supple sweetness caught him as did her taste, and he pushed her wider, intensifying his pressure. His heart near exploding on her drawn-out moan.
If molten silk could be a thing, as well as a person, then Ally Egan would be it—hot, sleek, and oh so responsive—the sound of his name on her desperate cry, shattering his last intention to hold her back. Compelling him to use his hands as well as his mouth.
Once again, his name tore from her, ragged and raw. Though her legs fought to close around him, he held her pinned and challenged her not to run from the sensations he drew.
In time, she eased and seemed to redirect any strain to her fingers clawing at his sheets, the unbroken pace of his touch within and around her turning her cry to an unmistakable, full-body shudder.
He pulled away only long enough to shuck off the last of his clothes and retrieve a condom from his bedside drawer. She arched against him, her climax still pulsating in time for him to enter her on one firm and unapologetic thrust.
Though he would have loved to go slower, the firm clench of her around him forced him to drive into her hard and fast—his movements wild and his breaths bursting from him about as quickly as this moment passed by.
And even as his climax rose and swept him under, his awareness of Ally didn’t fade. She embodied his pleasure and touched his soul. As if he even believed in souls. But then, she had that effect on him. She colored his world and made him want to believe in the unbelievable—even as his lips claimed hers in a search to cling to something real.
Soon, he rested his forehead to hers, their breaths intermingling while he delayed the inevitable as long as he could. He didn’t want to leave. Not now. Not ever. But unfulfilled dreams led to resentment, and he’d gleaned enough evidence of that through his parents as well as his conversations with Ally. He simply didn’t have what she needed.
So, he withdrew from her, rolling away and taking her with him until her head leaned on his chest, tucked beneath his chin.
“Never thought that would happen.” Her flat, but joking delivery worked her usual magic of soothing him.
“Me either.” He dropped a kiss to her head, pausing to breathe her in some more. “Though admittedly, it’s the only thing I’ve thought of since first seeing you at the ball game.”
She snapped her head up, almost taking his chin out with her, her eyes narrowed in a mischievous look. “You horndog.”
A grin tugged at his lips, and he did nothing to stop its advance into a full smile. “Not until I met you. Besides, don’t lie, you loved it.”
The corners of her lips rose as did the glint in her eyes, only for her expression to freeze while she jolted up off him. “What’s that sound?”
She peered around the room at large, and he listened as his phone’s jaunty tune came into focus. All the way from his couch in the living room.
He growled and folded an arm over his face, wanting to shut out all reminders of the world outside this room. “Clearly, someone who doesn’t know when to let up.”
The phone stopped ringing, only to start again.
“You probably should get that.” She tugged at his arm. “Sounds urgent.”
“Fine.” Despite his clear reluctance, he gave her a quick kiss through his shuffle out of bed.
Maybe it was another call from Encode. Or maybe some new emergency transpired. Not the Syndicate, again. Not his sister…
A loud bang came from his door just as he hiked his shorts on. “Hey, Chip, are you in there? I know you’re home, there’s a car in your drive. Open up.”
He paused a beat and then swung around to Ally, her eyes taking on an instant wide panic. “What? Who is that?”
He shook his head, momentarily unsure, until the banging started again and along came the words. “Chip, it’s Greg. Open up, dude. Jamie and Matt are waiting in the car.”
“Who the heck are Greg, Jamie, and Matt?” Her voice lifted to pitchy panic, and she clutched the bedsheets to her chest, her knuckles white and gaze darting about. “Oh God, where are my clothes?”
But she’d entered this room wearing no more than her bikini. There weren’t that many clothes to be sought.
More knocking, and his frustration grew. This wasn’t how he’d wanted his moment with Ally to end. Hell, he didn’t want it to end at all.
“Just hang on a minute, will you?” He yelled clear across the house and pulled a shirt from a pile of clean laundry in a basket by his window, tossing one to Ally too. Next, he lowered his tone and addressed her directly. “Just stay here. I’ll handle this. They’re college friends, and they weren’t supposed to be here till tomorrow.”
Sixteen
Ally sat alone at Chip’s kitchen table, save for his three friends who sat across from her, all avoiding her gaze and fidgeting awkwardly with their unoccupied hands. Meanwhile, Chip did as she’d already done and finished his shower, washing away all traces of river water and the earlier lovemaking they’d not-so-secretly engaged in.
She stared down at the table’s light timber for what felt like the millionth time, still not sure what to do here.
