A Second Chance at Love by Max Hudson

Author:Max Hudson [Hudson, Max]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-05-27T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

I leaned in, getting a closer look at his face. What else had I missed after all of these years? His ears were pierced and he was more tanned. Along his hairline, I thought I saw a scar. It disappeared into his mane and was only perceptible if you were up close and knew what to look for. Now I understood why he’d let his hair grow. His lashes were the same but he didn’t look as brainless as he used to. There was a seriousness to his face now. Pain could be one hell of a teacher, and it looked like he had a lot of it.

I hadn’t realized how close I’d gotten to his face until he opened his eyes suddenly and we were nose to nose. A fire shimmered behind the dark brown depths of his eyes before his warm hand grabbed me around the neck and pulled me in closer. His lips met mine roughly, the tip of his tongue prying my lips apart. It wasn’t until I tasted him on my tongue that I realized what was happening.

I pulled away, but he held me still, refusing to break contact until he’d gotten what he came for. I pushed against his chest but the action just seemed to encourage him to go further, wrapping his other arm around my shoulders and pulling me down so that our chests met. He caught my bottom lip in between his teeth and pulled lightly, sucking on the flesh. The sensation shot throughout my body, killing my will to escape.

I gave up and leaned in. If this was a mistake, I was prepared to accept the consequences. It turned out when it came to Daniel Mann, I couldn’t help but fall for the same tricks, over and over again. I moaned into his mouth and he shuddered before tearing his lips away from mine.

“I’m sorry. You didn’t come here for this,” he said between ragged breaths. “What did you come here for?”

“I...missed you.”

He looked at me with those same fathomless eyes and I fell apart. He’d completely disarmed me before I ever fired a shot.

“I missed you too,” he said. His hand fell from my shoulders and slipped under my shirt, grasping at my waist and running his knuckles against my skin. I gasped and clutched at the front of his shirt. I wanted to run, but I knew it was useless. Instead, I retreated behind my humor.

“If I didn’t know you better, I would think you are talking about more than the last week.”

“I am.”

He pulled me into his lap and I threw my leg over his hips, straddling his hips. I was careful not to jostle too much, avoiding his sore leg.

“I used to see you every day. Even though we didn’t get along, I didn’t realize how much it meant to me until you were gone. I didn’t really understand how much you meant to me at all,” the words poured out of me like blood from a wound.

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