Page 11 of The Other Side
What am Iwillingto let happen?
Chance kept my hand in his as we ascended the three sets of stone stairs to the fourth floor, where I was the sole occupant.
“This is me…” I stopped in front of my door; my nerves were on overdrive.
With my back to the door, I peered up at Chance through my lashes. He seemed to be waiting for me to make a move, maybe not wanting to be disrespectful after the close call in the bar.
“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay you for what you did tonight,” I started, raising my finger to trace the buttons on the front of his polo shirt. “What may have been a small act on your part may have completely altered the trajectory of my entire life.” The sentiment was perhaps a bit hyperbolic, but I felt it was the truth.
“I’m glad I was there.” Chance’s eyes darkened slightly as he decreased the space between us by millimeters. “I’m glad I met you, Violet.” His voice was low and husky.
“I’m glad I met you too, Chance.” I closed the distance, leaning in for a hug. “Thank you.” I took a moment to breathe him in, the musk of his aftershave, the fresh soap scent of his shirt and hair. I reveled in the feel of his arms constricting around me and the warmth of his body permeating through the layers of clothes that separated us.
I glanced up at him, which was my undoing.
Unable to continue denying myself, I wrapped one hand around the base of his neck and whispered, “I really want you to kiss me,” before his lips descended on mine, having received permission.
Chance was gentle at first, taking his time with me, pulling me closer while simultaneously pressing me against the door.
My stomach flipped as he explored my mouth; my heart was beating out of my chest. I knew the drinks were softening theedges of the experience, but I didn’t think I’d ever been so physically attracted to someone before. I felt as though my entire body was vibrating with need for him—an entirely new, but exciting experience.
My first love (and first soul-crushing heartbreak) had been my high school sweetheart and the love had been young, but friendly and comfortable. My most recent relationship had burned fast and bright, but lacked a lot of emotional depth.
I cleared my head, trying to focus on the gorgeous man I was happily drowning in. I didn’t want to think about anyone else, certainly not anyone from before. I only wanted to think about Chance.
Moaning into his mouth at the feeling of his desire settled just below my stomach gave him the incentive he needed to let his tongue slip past my lips, exploring my mouth with both expert skill and ease.
I could taste the faint crispness of his citrusy beer on his tongue, along with an essence that just felt so quintessentially him. I let one hand keep him close, still resting at the base of his neck, while the other slowly descended down his chest, gently squeezing his hardness.
Chance pulled away, a groan escaping as he rested his forehead against mine. Our panting breaths were the only sounds in the dim hallway.
“Come inside,” I whispered, aware only after the words had escaped my lips of the double meaning they may have indicated.
“You’re making it very hard for me to be a gentleman.” Chance chuckled against me, leaning in to suck my bottom lip between his before releasing it abruptly. “You’ve been drinking.” He traced a finger along my jaw.
“I’m not drunk.” My beseeching tone undermined the attempted assertion. And while I could still feel the buzz of the liquor humming through my veins, I felt I was present enough toconsent. “You don’t have to be a gentleman,” I teased, hoping he understood what I was implying. Heat pooled between my legs, and the thought of having him inside me made me squeeze my thighs together to alleviate the building pressure.
“You’re killing me, Violet.” His eyes were closed, his brow knitted together, as if he was in pain.
“Please…” I didn’t mean to sound so desperate, but frankly, I was. It had been over a year since I’d been with anyone, and I hadn’t realized how much I needed to feel something until Chance happened along.
“I shouldn’t—I can’t,” Chance corrected himself, taking a slow step back from me, his hands still around my waist. “Could I get your number?”
“Only if you’re coming in.” I raised an eyebrow in challenge—one last-ditch effort to get what I wanted.
Chance cocked his head, letting his eyes rake over me. I was still catching my breath; my lips already felt swollen, and I was sure my cheeks were pink from both the kiss and the lingering effects of the alcohol in my system.
He took another step back.
I frowned up at him.
“Don’t worry, I’m certain I’ll be running into you again.” He smirked.
If he was a townie and thought I’d be back at the bar soon, he’d be mistaken. But the spark of my pride prevented me from continuing to beg or giving him my number anyway.
Maybe it was the alcohol that made his rejection sting a bit more than it should have. Or maybe it was the fact that I had never been more forward with a guy in my life. The physical attraction continued to throb between my legs.
“Open your door,” he commanded, taking another step away. “I want to make sure you’re safe inside your room.”
I dug in my pocket for my keys and was pleased when the deadbolt didn’t stick despite the humidity outside. I turned around one last time and found him another few paces back. “Goodbye, Chance,” I lamented softly.
“Goodnight, Violet.” He smiled before turning to walk away.
I closed the door behind me, sliding down with my back pressed against it. He had gotten me so hot and bothered I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep without touching myself. I was angry with him for leaving me that way, but I smiled at his words: “I’m certain I’ll be running into you again.”
I sure as hell hoped so.
