Page 52 of One More Chance
“This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen,” she whispered.
“I know,” I said. I placed my hand, gently, on her shoulder. “But maybe this is how it needs to happen. I know this isn't perfect, but fate is real.” And I felt that deep in my core as I stood there with her, being granted this second chance to be at her side.
She let out a shaky breath and wiped under her eyes. “God, Levi… you screw up everything with fireworks, but then show back up like some reformed Hallmark husband.”
“I’m still working on the Hallmark part. I haven't figured out how to chop firewood in slow motion while wearing a flannel. Yet.”
That earned me the smallest, most precious snort.
I saw the relief hit her then. "About last night,” she said. “I was going to say yes. To you moving back in. Not because I need help or need your money. But because it will be good for the kids. And maybe… good for us.”
Fuck, I love her.
I didn’t hesitate. I reached for her, pulled her into my arms, hugged her. "Okay, my love. I am a slave to your whims. Tell me what you need and I'll be there."
Tears clung to her lashes and soaked my shirt, her voice shaky as she said, “Levi, I don’t know if I can do this, if I can ever forgive you… but I miss you. Goddamn, I miss you.”
That was all it took. My lips found her cheeks, her jaw, the corners of her eyes where tears had streaked like falling stars. The faint scent of mint on her breath told me she had brushed her teeth despite battling the nausea that tore up her insides. Even in her weakest moments she held herself together, refusing to be seen as unkempt or vulnerable.
But in that moment? She lowered her walls, invited me to see her, and let me in. For the first time since I had woken in this new life, it wasn’t simply me chasing Sloane and groveling before her. She chose to open her arms and ask for me.
It wrecked me, how much I missed her. To think of all the intimacy I’d thrown away by chasing validation in the wrong arms sickened me.
"Sloane," I managed in a guttural whisper. Then the following words tumbled out of me, desperate and bare. "I want to kiss away your pain I've caused. I adore you, cherish you, desire you, admire you." My breathing quickened and shook, bursting with things I should have told her years ago. "I used to want control. I thought I needed it. But now... all I want is to surrender. To you. Completely."
My thumb traced the curve of her jaw as I turned her face to me.
She startled, flinching enough for me to pull back. "Levi."
“Fuck, I’m sorry, Sloane,” I said.Did I say too much?
She shook her head, her eyes shining. “No. I… I want you, too.”
Those simple words broke my resolve and we met each other halfway. Our mouths collided with a hunger that bordered on starvation. My tongue brushed against hers, exploring at first, then deeper, more urgent as she leaned into me. Her body pressed against mine. The soft gasp that escaped her lips, followed by a quiet, aching moan, ignited something primal in me. It wasn’t only lust. It was need, raw and tangled in regret, in longing, in everything we’d lost and everything we still might have a chance to reclaim.
Her fingers curled into my shirt, clutching me like she was afraid I’d vanish if she let go. I felt her tremble from the kiss that wasn’t a kiss; it was a reckoning. Betrayal and silence squeezed into the heat between us.
I ran my hands along her shoulders and back, relishing and remembering her curves. She let me in, if only for this moment, and I refused to take it for granted.
She broke the kiss first, breathing hard, my forehead resting against hers. Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Goddammit, Levi. I don’t know how to forgive you.”
My throat tightened. “Then don’t. Not yet. First, let me try to be worth forgiving.” I brought my hand to her neck and my fingers felt her pulse quicken. Her skin was warm, flushed.
She didn’t pull away as she said, "I see your ego still has no limits."
"Only because I know you were made for me, as I was made for you. I want you, Sloane. I want you trembling and shaking beneath me as I worship your body with my tongue."
I felt her shiver at my words.
"But then there's the darker part of me that wants to tie you up and fill you with my cum until you can taste it."
When I kissed her again, it was rougher. Intentional. Both silent apology and carnal promise wrapped in every motion.
Her lips parted beneath mine. The heat between us simmered, then surged. My hands slid beneath the hem of her robe, feeling the familiar terrain of her waist, her ribs, the delicate rise of her back as she arched into me.
"Sloane," I whispered between kisses, "I'll fuck you so hard, your knees will stay weak for weeks."
"Oh, fuck, Levi." She let out a breath that was half-sigh, half-moan.
