CHANCE
I wasn’t proud of myself. It was ten at night and I was outside of Megan’s door, weighing the pros and cons of knocking after stalking her on Facebook knowing she said that she was finally at home and all. I was supposed to be at my place or better yet, I should be balls deep in a woman, but instead, I had spent the evening thinking about her and wondering how come she could be so chill when we saw each other earlier today.
I needed answers.
I needed to apologize for hurting her.
I needed to see her and I’d rather not think about the reasons why.
Finally, after starting to worry that a neighbor would call the cops on me for staying there outside of the door without doing anything, I finally knocked. Megan’s building wasn’t anything special, and in fact, before I managed to find her address through paperwork at work, I would have never pictured her living here. After all, the Grimes family had always been well-off contrary to my blue-collar family, so I expected her to be living on the Upper East Side or another neighborhood with high priced apartments. Instead, she lived in a nondescript building that needed a good refreshment and probably a new elevator. The damn thing made so much noise I was sure it’d never reach the fifth level.
The door opened slowly and then Megan appeared, wearing the same clothes as I’d seen her wearing at her brother’s earlier. Her eyes bore into mine, curious and unsure.
“Hey,’’ I said and started rubbing my forehead nervously.
“What are you doing here?’’
I glanced at the three other doors in the hall and then risked a look above Megan’s shoulder in the quiet apartment. “Can I come in? I’d like to talk.’’
“Talk. About what?’’
Taken aback I frowned down at Megan. “You’re not going to let me in?’’
She blew out some air as if already over this and then crossed her arms over her chest. That only drew my attention to her breasts. I gritted my teeth and forced my eyes away.
“If you’re here to talk about what happened that day, it’s pointless.’’
“It’s not.’’
“Of course, it is, Chance. Oh come on,’’ she went on, her voice losing the disinterested tone she’s been using and instead, icing me with a biting one. “I told you I had been holding a torch for you and you don’t feel the same. There’s nothing else to talk about, and I don’t blame you for not returning my feelings. It’s fine. I’m fine. Stop looking at me like I’m going to break down at any moment.’’
“I’m not looking at you like that.’’
“Yes, you are.’’ On another sigh, she stepped away from the threshold. “Come in. Let’s not do this out there. Mrs. Crowsky is a nosy old lady and a real gossip to boot.’’
“What?’’ I asked as I stepped inside her small apartment. In two steps I was already in the cozy living room where it was obvious Megan had been sprawled on her couch to watch TV. The colorful patchwork plaid comforter was half on and off the couch.
“Mrs. Crowsky lives in the apartment opposite mine. She’s always behind her door listening to every sound.’’
She passed by me and resumed her position on the couch before gesturing at the matching armchair. I sat and glanced around at the knickknacks on the furniture. An old teddy bear missing an eye on the console under the windows, a few pictures on the walls and next to the flat screen, closed laptop on the coffee table and other knickknacks that looked straight from a flee market. Nothing cost more than a few bucks excepted for the laptop, TV and probably the couch and armchair unless those were second-hand.
“Chance?’’
My head snapped back to Megan. “Sorry. Shit, I just realized I’ve never been to your place.’’
“I didn’t think you knew my address.’’
“I didn’t. I looked it up.’’
“But why?’’ She crossed her legs and linked her hands in her lap, her eyes firmly trained on me as if examining me under a microscope.
“I owe you an apology for the way I reacted that day. I didn’t—‘’
“Don’t go there,’’ she cut me off, voice firm. “You can’t apologize for your absence of feelings. That’s not how it works, just like I won’t apologize for letting you know about my feelings that day. I had to do this for myself, so I could move on.’’
“Of course you shouldn’t apologize, Megan, but I owe you an apology for the way I acted. I could have been more sensitive and I shouldn’t have let you go when you were upset.’’
“If it’s that important to you, apology accepted. You didn’t have to drive here for that on a Saturday night. I’m sure you had better things to do.’’
I had always seen Megan as sweet and friendly, but at that moment, with the way she looked at me with distance, her flippant tone and the lack of light in her brown eyes, she looked just like Mathis. It was yet another reminder of how little I knew about her and how much I screwed up.
“Megan,’’ I said, voice low and trailing.
“What?’’ She crossed her arms over her chest and kept on staring at me with a poker face.
I was the one to break eye contact first. Shit, I didn’t know what I was doing here or where I stood. I had no idea how long I’d be able to push away the thoughts she had awakened in me, planting a seed when she had told me how she felt for me. That shit wrecked havoc in my mind.
“Why did you leave?’’
Her composure faltered a brief moment, but long enough for me to catch it. It eases some of my nerves twisting something in my chest.
“It’s pretty obvious, don’t you think?’’ She shook her head and snorted. “I needed to nurse my broken heart, and I couldn’t do it here when I risked seeing you at some function. And I didn’t want my brother to know about this fiasco.’’
“I’m sorry you felt you had to leave.’’
“Don’t be.’’ She uncrossed her arms and sighed. “I needed to leave, not just because of my feelings for you. I was drowning in my own life. I had no direction and leaving gave me the space I needed to take my life in hand. I should probably thank you, actually.’’ She offered me a tiny smile, and when it reached her eyes, it brightened her whole face. It was impossible to look away.
She was gorgeous.
And sexy.
Why did it take me until she opened up to me to see it?
“I wanted to call you, you know?’’
“Really?’’ She blinked, her big eyes trapping me in them.
“Really. I’ve been thinking about you this whole time, Megan.’’
“I would have never guessed that you’re the kind of man to torture yourself over hurting a woman’s feelings. I mean, it’s not like you’ve never paraded around with a different woman every time.’’
“It’s different with you.’’
“I know. I’m your best friend’s little sister.’’
Jaw locked and shoulders tensed I shook my head in negation. “No, it’s not that.’’ My voice rumbled in the quiet apartment, catching her off guard. Her mouth opened in a little o so tantalizing I didn’t know what to do with my thoughts. I should be disgusted with myself, feel bad because of Mathis, but I was just a man who saw a woman and wanted her.
“Wha… I don’t think I understand,’’ she said, her voice trembling and her breathing heaving as her eyes fell to my mouth before she tore them away to plant them on mine again.
Oh, she knew exactly what I meant. She knew it and it scared her. It sizzled around her, between us. That fear only heightened everything, rushing my blood faster through my veins and hardening my cock in my jeans. That damn apprehension on her part, that fucking guilt for wanting her on my part, was a turn on.
My fingers burned with the need to touch her, to explore and see if what I felt was a fluke. Was the forbidden idea of touching her, of kissing her the reason why my whole body buzzed with arousal? But the coffee table was between us, and she didn’t move from the couch, seemingly trying to meld herself into it.
I cursed that coffee table. I thanked that coffee table.
“Chance?’’ she asked, using my name in a question hiding thousands more that had the power to derail my whole fucking life just because my cock was dominating. Just because I couldn’t resist a beautiful woman, just because she electrocuted me that day months ago and opened my eyes, rendering me blind to other women without really knowing why I was so consumed with thoughts of her. It took me to see her again to know that I needed to finish what she had started.
Just once.
One fucking time.
If only she’d let me.
“I want to kiss you, Megan. Here. Now.’’
***
MEGAN
I used to dream about this. Countless times I had spent nights and days too, dreaming of Chance Atwood saying he wanted to kiss me with a voice darkened by desire and lust lighting up his intense blue eyes that dug through me to bare me to him like none other had ever been able to do.
But that was before. Before he broke my heart after I had laid it at his feet. Before I cried for days and thought I’d never surface again. Before I decided to leave for France for a few months in order to move on with my life and focus on my future.
“Say something,’’ he said with a low and intense voice. It awakened my body to what he could offer me.
My breasts got heavier in my bra, my nipples tight and aching against the silk fabric. My skin flushed so much that the simplest brush of my t-shirt and jeans made me shiver. My mouth watered at the idea of tasting Chance’s skin, discovering the feel of his flesh, the way his mouth would feel, not just against my mouth, but on my whole body.
I craved him, even now, but it was too late. I wouldn’t let myself be led into a sexual relationship with the man I had always loved and would probably always keep in my heart. I willingly and knowingly broke my own heart once, I wouldn’t do it again.
“You should go,’’ I said, voice tight and my eyes burning into his, watching the intensity in his blue eyes changing to disappointment. “I mean it, Chance.’’
My heart squeezed painfully in my chest, a stark reminder of the pain I had felt that day when he confirmed what I had already known about his lack of feelings for me. I hated myself for being unable to put more distance where Chance was concerned. I was weak where I had always thought of myself as strong, resilient. It looked like the matter of the heart stripped me of my strength.
“I see the way you look at me,’’ he pushed on. On the edge of the armchair, he looked ready to jump to his feet and pounce on me. “You want it.’’
The way his voice rumbled through me, melting my very bones and firing my cells, made me want to close the distance between us and throw away caution, but that fear of falling down and not being able to stand up again held me back. I had plans for my life, I had a vision of what I wanted, and a sordid sexual affair kept secret wasn’t anywhere near what I wanted or deserved.
“Do you always go for what you want when you know it’s bad for you?’’ I shook my head then and held up a hand. “Don’t answer that. Just… just go. Please.’’
I stood up then and forced my eyes to stay away from him, so as not to let his intense eyes lure me in when my whole body ached for him and screamed at me to stop reasoning with my head. I went to the door, my back resolutely to him and got ready to show him out without another word when his hands closed around my wrist, stopping me just before I came into contact with the doorknob.
His palm was so warm against my bare skin, so hot it burned me through, shedding me of the pretend strength I conjured up. Helpless, I was helpless now that his big hand, so big it engulfed my wrist strongly, held me.
It was our first real skin on skin contact.
“Take a chance, Megan. Just take a fucking chance,’’ he whispered roughly against my ear. His breath burned a path on my neck and down to my modest cleavage.
His tall body with lean and well-defined muscles loomed over me, drilling home how small and delicate I was next to him. With his presence, hot and consuming, it was impossible to ignore the desire coming off of him and feeding my own lust.
But I still didn’t look at him. I fixed my eyes on the doorknob and the closed door, just a foot away. I could reach it with my other arm he wasn’t holding, but I didn’t.
I couldn’t.
“What do you want from me?’’ I asked in a voice I barely recognized. It was breathy, a notch above a whisper and deeper than usual, dripping with so much want it undoubtedly brought colors to my face.
“A kiss.’’ His lips skimmed the shell of my ear and I shivered against him. “Just a kiss, Megan.’’
It was just a kiss.
I could do with just a kiss.
It wouldn’t crush my heart and hurt me more than I had been.
Slowly, scared out of my mind and exhilarated at the same time, I turned around. My eyes traveled up from his throat to stop at his eyes where I got sucked in like I had so often. But this time, I wasn’t the only one feeling that charge. He did too and reveled in it. He pulled me in with him.
And right then, I was aware that I deluded myself into thinking it wouldn’t hurt once that kiss was over because I was gone again. I was gone for him, my heart bleeding for a smidgen of his attention. A kiss would only make me wish for more, but at that moment it was too late.
He cupped my face softly, almost as if with hesitation, but the spark in his eyes told me he knew exactly what he was doing and where it’d lead. His thumbs caressed my cheeks, tracing my cheekbones before his left thumb trailed to the dip under my lower lip. His eyes fixed on my mouth. His breathing sped up until I couldn’t take this anymore, that building tension and I closed my eyes.
“No,’’ he said and pushed a hand through my hair behind my head. “Open your eyes. Don’t hide from me.’’
I had no idea why I listened to him, why I let him dictate my every move, but I did. I blinked my eyes open and found his face just a breath from mine, his mouth so tantalizing close I could almost feel its shape. And his smell, a cologne I had smelled on him for years that made me want to tuck my head in his neck to breath it in, enveloped me completely.
Finally, it happened, that thing I had dreamed of for half my life, even when I was in a relationship.
He kissed me.
My hands found his arms, the only way to keep me tethered as my senses went haywire.
His lips, hard on me, played expertly with mine, sending more tingles through me. His scruff rubbed my skin in a way that made me press my thighs together and dig my fingers into his biceps. They bulged when he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me against him until I felt every ridge, every ripple of muscles, every brush of his clothes. His hand behind my head tensed and his mouth pressed harder against mine conjured up a gasp from me.
He answered by nipping at my lower lip and slipping his tongue into my mouth, dancing with my tongue and exploring me to steal all of my thoughts. I was left a pile of goo, a ball of lust ready to explode at any moment.
And then, with a last tug with his teeth, he pulled away and stopped the kiss, throwing me back into the reality and away from the realization of one of my dreams.
Chance and I kissed.
I opened my eyes and found his cheeks red and his lips swollen. His eyes held the kind of intensity I had never encountered before, the kind I hadn’t even witnessed while he was charming the panties off of one of his conquests. It burned hotter than the sun, brighter than the purest light.
I couldn’t tear my eyes off of his because I was lost in him.
Temporarily.
The daze receded and with it, I became aware of his hand so close to my ass and his other one lost in my hair, keeping me hostage there under his dominance. His fingertips brushed near the swell of my ass cheeks, but he didn’t go further, probably because he saw in my eyes when I registered what just happened and how hard I shoved away the lust threatening to take me over and make me act on my stupid needs.
I put my hands on his firm chest, biting my lips when I felt his hard pecs, and I pushed against him until he had no choice but to drop his arms and let me go.
I immediately mourned his touch, his heat, his whole presence that had overwhelmed me just a moment ago.
“Now go,’’ I said with a stronger voice than I expected and a bite I couldn’t place. He frowned at this, something I had rarely seen on his face. He was known to be a smiling hellion, always good-natured and easy-going. It appeared that I didn’t bring out the best about him.
I looked away then and finally opened the door without sparing another look or word. I was sure he’d leave quietly, but it was without taking into account that Chance Atwood wasn’t a man who let others dictate his life or his whereabouts. He was a self-made man who was more stubborn than he let on.
Just as he walked through the threshold, he glanced over his shoulder and offered me his huge smile, slightly more wicked than the one I was used to receiving. It spelled trouble and tripped my heart.
“I’ll go for now, Megan, but that stupidly good kiss is just the beginning. You took a chance, it’s time to take Chance.’’
And on that cheesy line, he walked away, leaving me in a daze again as I watched his retreating form until he disappeared in the staircase, ignoring the cranky elevator.