Second Chance At The Riverview Inn by Molly O'Keefe

Second Chance At The Riverview Inn by Molly O'Keefe

Author:Molly O'Keefe [O'Keefe, Molly & O'Keefe, Molly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-05-09T18:30:00+00:00


Chapter Seventeen

Helen

Immediately she knew it had been the wrong thing to say.

I mean…so stupid. So totally stupid. And she clung to the idea that maybe he hadn’t heard her. Or that other women had said far more stupid things after he’d given them the kind of orgasm that didn’t happen every damn day and her stupid thing would be no big deal.

But he’d heard her.

And whatever stupid things other people had said, what she’d said hurt him.

He sat back on his heels, his face turned away. High color on his cheekbones.

“Micah,” she breathed and sat up. God, she was so wet and the pressure on her clit sent sparks through her body. She didn’t want it to end like this. She didn’t want it to end at all. “That was…I’m sorry.”

He braced his hands against the bed, his fingers inches from her legs, but she could feel them. The heat of them. The exact and precise distance between his fingers and her legs.

Those fingers that had been inside of her. That if she grabbed and held to her face would smell like her. If she put them in her mouth, they’d taste like her, and she’d blown it and he would never touch her again.

And worse, she’d never get to touch him.

“Josie is my cousin and I told her about that moment in the hotel, outside my door. About how it had seemed like you were going to kiss me…”

He smiled at her, but not his good smile. Not the smile from around the fire. This was the smile he gave the people at the county jail. The yeah, yeah, sure smile.

Parts of her heart snapped off.

She didn’t know how to get from this smile to the one she wanted.

“She said I should just go for it,” she whispered.

“And you did,” he said. “You want a selfie?”

She gasped.

“Sorry,” he said and shrugged into his shirt.

“No. I’m…I’m so sorry. You just…that was about me. That comment. Not about you.”

He looked at her, his hair pushed back from his face. His rock-and-roll armor in place. And she wanted to say I’m just a normal person, and I don’t know how to do this with another normal person, much less my favorite singer.

But when his eyes met hers, she realized he knew all that. And what was at the heart of all of this was that he was a normal person, too. She’d just forgotten that.

“Yeah,” he said. “It’s like I said in the closet. It’s never really about me.”



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