Second Chances Page 2

  I met Todd in kindergarten at the only elementary school in our small town. He and I sat next to each other at the red table and shared our snack, popcorn that my mom sent for me, and pretzels that his mom sent for him. Sharing snack was against the rules due to the onslaught of childhood food allergies but Todd and I decided at the age of five that we were ready to go rogue. And from that day forward that’s just what we did. Todd and I never abided by rules. Don’t pet strange dogs. Why, because your friend’s dog won’t bite you, just the lost puppy you don’t know? Hold hands with an adult when crossing the street. So you can get hit by the car barreling at you because they can’t ran fast enough to get out of the way? Oh, and my favorite of all times, the one Todd got caught doing in first grade…do not run with scissors. Well, he had to run with them, he had just cut off one of Peggy White’s pigtails. Yeah, Todd and I were trouble together, but without each other, our childhoods would never have been the same.

  Todd and I were both only children growing up in a boring small town where nothing more exciting than a small brush fire at Mr. O’Connell’s house ever happened. To this day, the town still thinks it was just bad luck, the sun shining on some dry, old leaves. Todd and I know better, but we’ll never tell anyone the truth. They don’t need to know that we were next to those leaves smoking weed for the first time, too high to find the fire a threat. We laughed our asses off though, ran, and then told my mother that we saw smoke coming from the O’Connell’s yard. How she didn’t know we were as high as balls, I’ll never know.

  I pull away from my mom and wipe my face on my sleeve, shaking off the memories, give her a sad smile, and nod as I lead us into the house. It’s exactly as I remember it. I haven’t come home to visit her since the day I left, the memories of this house stemming from my childhood, happy, but painful at the same time. My dad’s chair in the living room, mom’s book on the table near the couch, her favorite place to sit and read. The house still smells like home, a smell I could never describe, one that can never be duplicated.

  “When did you grow that goatee? You didn’t have it when I last saw you in New York. I bet it’s a big hit with all the girls in the city. They think it’s sexy?” she teases me. “How are all the girls in the city?” my mom asks, trying to get me to tell her about some girlfriend I’m planning on marrying and giving her grandbabies with.

  “I don’t know. I grew it a while ago and there’s no girl in the city for me to tell you about, ma” I honestly answer. I can’t very well tell her about the long string of sexual submissive girls I play with and train at The Society. I can’t tell her that they love the feel of my goatee on their bare pussies as I eat them out, making them scream my name before I stalk off because I can no longer fuck any of them. I gave up fucking them months ago because it wasn’t worth it. Every time I would get inside one of them, I would see Raina’s face, remember what it was like to be inside her, remember what I did, how it ended, so I stopped. I still give them what they need; I discipline them, play them, and make them come. Then my Dom in training finishes the job. Everyone is happy, everyone wins…well, everyone but me.

  As if on cue, my mother says her name while trying her best to sound casual. She’s so transparent. “Judy said Raina was coming home, too?”

  “I know ma, I brought her home with me. It’s a long story,” I say. “Don’t look at me like that. We just happened to run into each other in the city and then Todd called while we were together. She needed the ride. It’s nothing more than that” I babble when, really, I’m hoping to turn it into so much more.

  “Mmm, hmmm” she says with a smirk starting at the corner of her lips. I roll my eyes and open the fridge, pop open a beer, and take a long pull then decide to just finish it.

  “I drove straight through, I’m exhausted. I’m going to bed. I’ll see you in the morning. Love you, ma,” I say as I kiss my mother’s head. “Thanks again for letting me stay the night. We’re bringing Todd to Chris and Tracey’s tomorrow, everyone’s coming.”

  My mom nods, then lowers her head in sadness. Todd is like a son to her, this isn’t easy on her either.

  When I get to my room, I open the door and I’m assaulted with memories flying at me, my dad tucking me in, Todd standing in front of my mirror flexing his newly acquired muscles, and Raina in my bed. I shake my head to make them go away but it’s no use, the memories surround me. I sigh and sit on my bed, my head in my hands. My phone chirps, rescuing me from the past and I run my hands through my hair, over my goatee. I fish my phone out of my pocket to see Damian Stone’s name and perfect face on my screen. “Hey, man. I’m sorry about the shoot. Something came up. Did you guys manage okay?” I ask.

  “Uh, yeah, but Bash and I are concerned about you. He told me that you know Raina Montgomery and that she left with you. He said you both looked shaken after seeing each other and worse when you left together. What the fuck is going on with you, man? I had no idea you knew her. She worked for me a few years ago, right before I met you at The Society. Small world I guess.”

  I take a huge breath and bite the bullet. I tell Damian about my small hometown, my best friend, and the girl who moved in next door the summer before our senior year of college.

  June 2008

  Pete

  “Hey, man what’s up with all that fucking noise outside. Jesus Christ, it’s like 10am, too early for this shit” Todd moans, tired from being up too late and partying too hard.

  “Fuck, if I know.” I stumble out of bed, stub my toe on something hard with a curse, and fling open the curtains.

  “Not helping me, man,” Todd complains. “Who’s making all that noise?”

  “Moving truck next door. Just fucking great. My mother will have us fixing our hair and bringing over a tray of cookies to the nice, little, old lady moving in any minute now.”

  “No! Fuck that, not me, man. My dick is fucking killing me, I can’t walk.”

  I laugh at him. Todd deserves the case of blue balls Amanda is giving him.

  “Yeah, laugh, tough guy. Fucking asshole” he groans.

  Todd has been going out with Amanda for weeks and still all she’ll let him do is make out with her and feel her up, she won’t even give him a hand job. Last night, we were at Chris’ house down on the beach and Chris and I managed to get blow jobs from these two girls while Todd remained on second base with Amanda like a newbie. Even Willie got his knob worked by this chick he’s been trying to stick it in. When the night ended, Todd and I headed back here to crash. Since the accident, it’s only been me and mom and I don’t like to leave her alone if I don’t have to. Todd understands and spends most weekend nights crashing with me. My mom is why I moved out of the frat house and off campus. Todd, being the best friend that he is, moved out, too.

  “Boys,” my mom calls from the hallway right on cue. “Get dressed; the new neighbors are moving in. You should go over there and see if they need any help. I’m heading over in a minute with some cookies. And fix your hair.”

  “Told you, dude. C’mon. Let’s go before she lays on the guilt trip.”

  Todd moans, rises from the extra bed in my room, that by now, I’ve come to think of as his, and heads into my bathroom. I throw on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, then after one look in the mirror, I grab my Florida State hat and pull it low over my eyes. When Todd emerges from the bathroom, I head in to take a piss and brush my teeth. Todd is dressed in my clothes when I come out.

  “Let’s go help this old lady. It’ll be our good deed for the day. Hey, you never know,” Todd shrugs. “Maybe the powers that be will repay me and Amanda will finally suck my cock tonight. We’re going to that party down on the beach, right?”

  “Yeah, I’m in. Let’s hope this lady doesn’t have too many accessories for her twenty cats” I laugh as we head to find my mother.

  She’s in the kitchen putting cookies on a fancy tray. “Ready, boys?” she asks as she turns and looks us up and down. “Don’t you have anything better to put on?”

&n
bsp; “Ma, please. Can we just get this over with? We’ll go over there, say hello, offer the lady some muscle, then we’re going back to bed. We were out late. I have a headache.”

  My mother rolls her eyes then smacks me in the gut. “I know what time you came in and I know what you were doing. I don’t like it. Your father…” she trails off knowing not to finish that sentence.

  We walk across the street the three of us looking like a poor excuse for the welcome wagon.

  There is no little, old lady. There is, however, a man the size of a linebacker though. He’s emptying furniture from the moving truck as he barks orders at a kid that must be his son, all red hair and long limbs. The kid must be about fourteen and doesn’t look any happier than I do about helping.

  My mother clears her throat and makes the introductions, offering this ox of a man Todd and I for as long as he needs us. Payback is a bitch, I know she’s only making me do this because we were out late last night and came home laughing and stumbling. I’ve explained to her a million times that she would have no idea what I was doing if I lived on campus, but she still insists on making it her mission to see me graduate from college alive and without a sexually transmitted disease. I’m not sure why. I didn’t even want to go to college in this first place, what’s the point? I’m going to be a general contractor like my dad taught me to be. At this point, I’m wasting my time and my mom’s money on a business degree.

  Todd and I help Mr. Montgomery and his son, Elliot, for what feels like hours. We unload furniture and boxes and carry them into the house. We cart bed frames and dressers up to the second floor and a washer and dryer into the basement. The kid is stronger than he looks but Mr. Montgomery is still happy to have our help. By the time we’re to the back of the truck, where the smaller, lighter boxes are, I’m covered in sweat and I stink worse than after a game of baseball in the dead of summer. Todd grabs the second to last box and heads into the house leaving me with the last, Elliot and his father disappearing long ago to organize their belongings.

  As I approach the front door, a car pulls into the driveway and I turn to see the passenger side door open and out emerges a vision. She’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid eyes on. She’s wearing short hot pink shorts, that I later notice have the letters H-O-T on the ass, a tight white t-shirt that leaves just a hint of her firm belly exposed, and fluffy pink flip flops. Her deep, burnt-red curls are piled high on her head in a messy knot and her eyes are hidden behind huge sunglasses. I lower the box I’m holding to mid-level, just in case my body decides to embarrass me, and that’s when she must see the box I’m holding because she lunges at me.

  I look down into the partially opened box and notice it contains what must be her personal items. There’s a few pictures, a magazine, a box of tampons, some trophies, but the best item is the diamond-studded tiara. Before she can tackle me to the ground for the box, I pull the tiara out with one hand, smirk at her, and place it on her head as I walk past her saying, “Welcome to the neighborhood, Princess. Party at the beach tonight, I’ll get you around eight.”

  December 2013

  Raina

  I finally managed to fall asleep from sheer exhaustion after driving straight through from New York with none other than Pete Roman when a memory, an overwhelming shock to my system, but an exquisite feeling all the same, overpowers me and I startle awake. I’m in the bed in my old room and I look around then run my hands through my hair as I remember how he once worshipped my body, cherished it, relished in it, and controlled it. Even after all these years, I remember the feeling of his hands on my skin, his body covering mine. I feel as if his touch is on me now, sparking me to life again. His voice…it was always his voice, the way he spoke my name with desire and longing but with nonchalance. I always suspected he cared, possibly even loved me in his own way, but I could never be sure. Maybe I was the love he secretly longed for or maybe he did just want a quick and easy fuck. Either way, I gave him both. His deep voice, recently changed as manhood took over, made me cave and give in to his needs every time, no matter day or night, in privacy or with the threat of discovery. One sound from him, my panties dampened then dropped. Even now, just thinking about him, I feel myself falling deep in a trance remembering how he moaned my name when he was buried deep inside me, thrusting hard and long, holding my face, his lips mere centimeters from mine. My body betrays me and responds, nipples tightening, dampness forming between my legs.

  It was love at first sight for me years ago and not much has changed. It was a higher power at work then, a spiritual connection still now. A soul mate setting eyes on her other half for the first time. A feeling that exists or doesn’t, it can’t be created, it can never be duplicated. I know, I tried at first, but soon gave up. Too many times closing my eyes, telling them to be silent so I could pretend. In the end, the act never happened, I couldn’t do it, couldn’t let anyone else go where only he had been. I couldn’t allow another into me, my mind, body, or soul. So I spend my days cultivating a life, that to the outside world, looks full, but at night, the movie of my past plays in my mind, keeping me warm or cold, depending on the particular memory.

  I remember his tongue on my skin so vividly it makes me shiver. The thought of his touch makes me jump. I can’t rid myself of these memories or stop myself from going back to them, I’m unable to expunge him from my core, he lives there, always will. No matter how hard I work to never go back, I know that is what I want, what my body craves and what my heart needs, even if it shatters it all over again. What the hell? It’s never been repaired from the first assault. What’s happened between us can never be erased; I can never be the girl from yesteryears, and now, here I am back home with him across the street. Exactly the way it all started.

  I allow myself to imagine the reunion, the first sight of him naked after all these years. I can kid myself, but I know it’s inevitable. It’s only a matter of time before I’m welcoming Pete Roman back into my life and my bed. He’s already made it into my mind.

  He’s still in good shape; his body firm and hard under his tight t-shirt and jeans that hug him in all the right places. He’s grown a goatee since I last saw him and it’s the sexiest thing I think I may have ever seen. It makes me wonder what it would feel like to kiss him, but even more so, I imagine what it would feel like between my legs. I close my eyes and hear the first sound of his voice whispering into my ear as he nips it with his teeth, that voice that can bring me to my knees, the first electric current I know will run from one body to the other upon that first sensual contact. The intense familiarity of everything about him, the way he kissed, the way he entered me. It’s too much, pushing me over the edge, so close but still out of my grasp.

  I know I should have moved on years ago, should move on now, see this as it is, friends saying good-bye to someone we love, one last time together at the beach house, but I can’t. My heart is a hostage and he has the only key. There’s no escaping the inevitable that’s approaching, all I can do is brace myself for the contact.

  I’m awake now, covered in sweat, wet between my legs and I groan, knowing I’ll never get back to sleep. I hear my phone chirp and reach for it. Seeing Phoenix Doyle’s face on my screen, I feel somewhat more grounded. “Hey, Nix. What’s up?” I ask as a greeting.

  “Nothing good here. All right, love?”

  “Not good here either. I’m glad you called though, I need to talk. You have time or is there a girl or three waiting for you in your bed?” I laugh, only half joking.

  “Do you think I’m that big of an arse to call you when I have someone waiting for me in my bed?”

  “Ah, yeah. Sorry, Nix, but you’ve done it before, so yeah, I do. You’ve actually left girls, and I stress the plural, in your bed to come hang out with me. We went out and ate a whole meal while two girls waited for you. And that was just one time,” I point out. “There’s been more.”

  “My bed is cold and empty tonight so spill it and stop being a diva” he teases me knowing full
well that I hate that term. I am not a diva!

  I tell Nix about the photo shoot, about Todd’s declining health, and that I’m back in Florida at my parent’s home. “I came here with Pete and I’m scared about spending the next month with him in the same house with access to...”

  Nix chuckles and cuts me off. “I promise to check in with Pete and let you know what’s playing out in his head” he says. Nix is kind of a double agent for me when it comes to Pete Roman who he is also friends with, us all having Todd in common.

  Phoenix continues to listen but doesn’t offer any advice at first. He waits me out and lets me clear my head, knowing that I need to vent. Nix and I have been friends for a few years now. We became friends shortly after Todd moved to London for his job and he and Nix became fast friends. Todd always said there was something about Nix that made him not miss Pete so much while he was in London. No one could ever make me feel like Pete, and Nix is no exception, but I do understand what Todd meant. There is something so primal about them both that it pulls you in.

  I’ve spent a lot of time in London over the years to clear my head. Whenever the media would zero in and stalk me, I would take off to the safety of London, Todd, and Nix. Nix and I hit it off and became good friends, although that’s not how it was in the beginning. When we first met, he tried to get me into bed. Well, not really bed, he tried to get me to go to this BDSM club with him. Phoenix Doyle is a sexual Dominant, and a very sexy one at that. I don’t know a woman who can resist his London accent and charm, his rock solid body or his pretty yet masculine face. If he ever makes it to the States, I fear for the women in his path.