Second Chance Hero (25 page)

            “What?”

            “I think he’ll hurt you. No, I know
he’ll hurt you,” Jenna leans over and flicks the wipers on as I pull out of the
car park, “I won't give up on us until you say ‘I do’.”

            “Don't be ridiculous. There’s something
wrong with you if you don't hate me after last night.”

            “I told you I’ll wait for you.”

            “I don't understand why, Deac. If things
were a mess before, I don't even know what to say about it now.”

            “I obviously did something to piss you
off yesterday.”

“What makes you say that?” She narrows her eyes at
me and I smile for the first time since before the disaster that struck last
night.

            “You’re my book, remember?”

            “Thanks for the ride.” Jenna attempts to
open the back door for her bags, but I beat her there and grab them myself.

            “It’s roast day, I’ll come back with
you.”

            “You need to shower.”

            She nods at my soaking sweatshirt and I
smirk, “I’ll shower at yours.”

            “In the bathroom opposite my bedroom?” I
nod, “No you won't.”

            “Why not?” I lean down and she shivers
as I whisper in her ear.

            “Deac?”

            You’ve got to be kidding me. I stand up
and turn my head, noticing Lizzie standing in the rain, her eyes wide in that
stalker expression she has. She’s holding an umbrella that would look better in
a cocktail glass than it would have any hope of keeping her dry; and she’s
holding a white cardboard box in the other hand.

            “Everything okay, Lizzie?” I ask,
noticing Jenna exhale quickly next to me.

            “I wanted to wish you a happy
anniversary baby.” She tiptoes and kisses me on the cheek and I step back.
What?

            “What are you talking about?”

She hands me the box and I lift up the lid.

            Shit.

            “We’ve been together a year today. I
ordered these for you when I went to see Jenna yesterday. They’re lemon, your
favourite.”

            And each cake has ‘I love you’ piped on
in icing. With Jenna’s business card tucked neatly in the middle.

            “Jen-”

            “Congratulations. Bring the shopping to
Mum’s when you're done.”

            She walks away and I have to let her go
and deal with this shit. When I look back to Lizzie she’s smiling as she
watches Jenna walk away.

            “Lizzie. We’re not together,” I hold the
box out for her to take back, “never have been.”

            “I just thought I’d get you a gift to
remember the day we met. I remembered your pictures in your office and the
story you told about why lemon is your favourite flavour. The least I could do
was ask the girl in the picture to make your favourite flavour cakes for you.”

            “How would you recognise Jenna? You
haven’t been in the office for weeks.”

            I squeeze my eyes shut when I see the
look in hers. That’s why Jenna was pissed off last night. That’s why she
accepted the proposal.

            “Lizzie, were you in the office
yesterday?”

            “I just had to make sure it was the
right brunette.”

            “Did you tell Jenna?”

            “I can't remember the details.” She
shakes her head, “I mean we all look the same, I can't remember what I say to
who.”

            “Okay. Well, of all the girls of that
type,” I hesitate, unsure if I’m adding fuel to the fire, “you were the worst
lay and the most boring. Stay away from Jenna.”

            I drop the box of cakes she refuses to
take back into the bin as I walk away and look back to see her watching me.
I’ve never regretted having ‘trait girls’ so much in the five years I’ve used
them. I always knew Lizzie was a little crazy, but it was her quirkiness that
reminded me of Jenna. I guess I was oblivious to the crazy-factor, and I know
she’s the reason Jenna is now someone’s fiancé.

            “Where is she?” I ask Esteban as he lets
me in and I take the bags through in to the kitchen. The family isn’t here yet,
only Esteban, and Mindy who’s at the stove cooking.

            “She’s having a shower. Que tal?”

            “Everything’s fine.”

            “I’m old, but I’m not loco. I know last
night wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Mindy laughs, but I know it’s because she’s worried
her husband has crossed a line.

            “No, it wasn’t.”

            “Did you fight?”

            I’m not going to get out of this. Mindy
stands at the other side of the counter and leans on her elbows.

            “What happened?”

            “There are... girls.” I start, “I don't
think they’re pleased that Jenna and I are hanging out. One of them said
something to her yesterday and I didn’t know. By the time I found out, five
minutes ago, it was too late.”

            “It’s never too late.” Mindy says,
turning to the fridge and handing me a bottle. I bite the cap off and take a
drink.

            “I already told her. I’m not giving up
until she’s Mrs...?”

            “Jones.”

            “Jenna Jones?” They nod. Jesus, “Will
she be down soon?”

            “Just go up.” Mindy waves me away.

            “But-”

            “You’re adults. Go.”

            I practically run to the stairs, and up
them, before they have a chance to change their minds. I hear the shower
running, and my feet follow the sound; I can't help it. I have to be near her.
Especially if she’s already in the shower. I’m pulling my sweatshirt off as I
walk down the hallway and open the bathroom door.

            She’s in the cubicle, facing away from
me and lathering shampoo in her hair. I follow the soapy trail from her neck,
down her back, over her incredible behind, and down the inside of her legs. She
raises her face to the water and the shampoo rinses off her in waves, her hair
falling down her back.

            I carry on watching as she squirts
conditioner in her hand and combs her hair slowly with her fingers. She turns
around and I’m prepared to be busted, but her eyes are closed and she looks
stunning. I can't explain how this girl wipes out every other girl I’ve ever
seen naked. Her body is a work of art; curved in the right places, tight and
smooth, with a perfect sun-kissed tone and a naturally beautiful face that I
could look at all day. I take off my jeans and t-shirt, closing the door and
locking it before walking towards the cubicle. I open the door and Jenna gasps
as the cold air hits her. Her eyes fly open and she attempts to cover herself
up. I step inside, shut the door and back Jenna into the tiled wall, my arms
either side of her head.

Jenna

Oh my god. I’ve slipped over in the shower, died
instantly and gone to heaven.

He’s in the shower with me, and as I watch the water
pour over him, I’ve never been so grateful for my habit to forget to lock
doors. Or that Deacon is in my life; after everything I’ve done, everything I
keep doing, he still follows me into the shower in his incredible naked glory,
and looks at me in a way that makes my insides burn.

“I was just thinking about you.” I confess, taking
my arms away from my body and gripping his forearms as they stretch past me.

“You were thinking about me?” He raises one eyebrow,
“In the shower?”

I nod, biting my bottom lip as I unabashedly eye his
body, watching the drops of water as they fall from his hair and branch out,
each one caressing a different muscle on their way down his sculpted form.

“What did you think about me doing?”

“Nothing.”

He narrows his eyes, and I make a mental note to
reward him for keeping his eyes on mine and not on my body.

“Maybe I was thinking about what
I
was
doing.”

“With me?” He clears his throat. Apparently he wants
details. Game on.

“I was thinking about what I want to do to you, Deac.”

He takes a deep breath, and I copy, attracting his
attention to my expanding chest, licking my bottom lip when I breathe out.

“What do you want to do to me, Jen?”

“I don't think I can tell you.” I lean forward,
press my lips to his chest and circle his nipple with my tongue, “I think I
have to show you.”

Deacon groans on a loud exhale as I take his nipple
between my teeth and I feel him harden swiftly between us. His fists my hair
and pulls my lips up to his, forcing my mouth open with his hungry tongue. He
pushes me back into the wall, my back hitting the cold tiles and I catch my
breath, losing the control I wanted over this.

“You taking control isn’t what I was thinking.” I
breathe, forcing myself to break away from his expert mouth, and I make quick work
on his neck, warm and wet from the steaming water.

“I guess you’ll have to tell me then, baby.”

“You want me to tell you?” I stand back and take
hold of him with both hands, stroking him from the root up, “You want me to
tell you I was in the shower thinking about having your big hard cock in my
hands? How I was thinking about how good you feel, how I love the sounds you
make when I’m touching you?”

As if on cue, Deacon growls low in the back of his
throat as I take his balls in my hand, rolling them between my fingers, while
my hand tightens around his shaft. Deac’s hand in my hair tightens and I feel a
shot of pain, which only fuels my hunger for him.

I sink to my knees fluidly, looking up at him as the
water sprays on my face. My mouth opens over the crown and I tease him with my
tongue, dropping my hand to my lap.

“Jenna.”

I take Deacon in my mouth as far as I can, hollowing
my cheeks and sucking him, cherishing the quick burst of saltiness that I’m
rewarded with. I take him back again as he thickens and throbs against my
tongue. I’ve wanted to do this for weeks – wanted to feel him come apart
because of me. I wanted to give him this, but it gives me as much pleasure to
have him in my mouth, rasping my name and pulling my hair, and I moan, closing
my eyes and revelling in the feel of him. I feel the sound vibrate through
Deacon’s body and he leans over, bracing himself on the wall and watching me.

“You’ve got such a greedy mouth.” He breathes as I
suck hard, pressing my tongue flat to the thick vein on the underside of his
shaft, “Like that. Don't stop.”

I follow his commands, sucking harder and teasing
him with my tongue when I pull back for air.

“Jenna, stop.” He bites, but I can feel his body
tighten, ready to release and I continue my assault, “You’ve made your point.
Fuck.”

With a gentle graze of my teeth, he comes, the first
spurt hitting the back of my throat and I swallow it down. I milk him dry and
sit back on my knees looking up at him; he’s still hard, gasping for breath and
his eyes are closed. I scramble to my feet, wrap my arms around his neck and
pull him to me, my mouth devouring his, as he parts his lips for my tongue, and
picks me up, urging me to wrap my legs around him. He slides through my wetness
before I know it’s coming and I grip his shoulders, holding my breath like I
always do when he’s inside me; the size of him fills me, and every time I’m
convinced I can't take it.

“Oh, god.” I bite down on his shoulder as he pushes
deeper inside me and keeps me held tightly to him.

“You’re cold.”

He holds me under the water and kisses and nips at
my neck, holding still inside me.

“Please.” I beg, “Take me.”

“In your bed.”

With a display of easy strength he shuts off the
water and climbs out of the shower, still holding me in place and grabs two
towels off the rack before opening the bathroom door, peeking out and carrying
me to my room. I shriek as he throws me on the bed and my thighs hit the
mattress, my feet on the floor. Deacon’s hovering over me, his hands gripping
the top of my legs.

“Auntie Jenna!”

Holy shit. Deacon puts his hand over my mouth,
stopping me from screaming in shock.

“She’s downstairs.” He whispers and then he’s gone.

I sit up in time to see him walking out of the door
with a towel around his hips. I can't make out what he says to Phillipa but the
sound stops and I climb off the bed, scrubbing at my body to dry off.

“Dinner’s ready,” Deacon says and I turn my head to
see him watching from my doorway, his head cocked to one side, as I put my
underwear on.

“Great,” I roll my eyes and reach for my bra.

Deac beats me to it and holds it open for me to
slide my arms into. He brushes my hair over my shoulder as he does the clasps
up, and getting dressed has never been such a turn on.

“Don't make plans for Thursday.” He says, pressing
three kisses on my shoulder before turning me back to face him and looking at
me at arm’s length, “I have to get some work done this week, but I’m taking you
somewhere on Thursday.”

~

“Jenna!” Jonas calls up the stairs as I’m pulling on
my trusty plimsolls, “There’s someone here for you!”

I smile at myself in the mirror, excited about where
Deacon is taking me today. I’ve spent the last three days in the shop; I’ve
finished stripping the walls and know exactly what I’ll make for the fete on
Sunday.

I skip down the stairs, stopping on the second to
last when I notice a suited dark-haired woman facing away from me, looking at a
collage on the wall. I spot Jonas in the kitchen looking between her and me. I
frown at him, wondering why he let this stranger into the house, and why she’s
here for me. He shrugs and turns away to help Dad with something.

“Can I help you?” I ask, standing up straight in my
jeans and t-shirt and meeting her at the doorway of the lounge. I gesture for
her to walk through and follow her in.

“My name is April Matthews.” She extends her hand
and I take it, “Your fiancé arranged for me to come and meet you today.”

What?

“Oh?” I take a few steps away from her, “He didn’t
mention that I would have any visitors.”

            “He employed me as your wedding
planner.” She smiles like I should have known, “He asked me to just come and
see what sort of things you get up to. See if I can get some ideas for your
wedding.”

“Sorry?”

            She ignores my confusion and circles me
like a predator, and I count four times she walks around me, assessing me from
head to toe. She tugs sharply on my t-shirt and I step back to balance myself.
Then she pulls back the waistband of my jeans, looking at the label in the
back.

“I think we could find a dress to fit you.” She
sneers, stepping round to face me, “We can arrange a make-up artist and a
hairstylist. Kip said you want to dye your hair back to its original blonde for
the big day, no expense spared.”

She claps her hands in excitement, but I’m close to
tears. I don't understand why Kip has sent this woman round to my parent’s
house without me knowing. And now she’s implying I’m not going to fit easily
into a wedding dress. I don't want to dye my hair blonde. And I had been quite
pleased with today’s make-up until she decided I need professional help.

“I don't need a wedding planner.” I choke through my
trembling lip.

            “Kip said you’re really busy with the
cake shops, and you’d need some help to get things planned so quickly.”

Why has he told her about my shops? And he’s set a
date?

“He’s told you the date?” I ask.

            April glares at me. What is this woman’s
problem?

            “No.” She barks, “He’s given us a three
month deadline. He said you want to be married by Christmas.”

“I do?”

“Yes,” She frowns, “Yes?”

“I think Jenna would like some time to decide what
she wants.”

Dad is standing in the lounge, and Jonas is behind
the sofa in the dining room, looking as confused as me.

“I’m just doing my job, Mr. Rivera.” April smiles
sweetly at my dad, but I see in his face he isn’t buying it. Why has she taken
such a dislike to someone she’s supposed to be helping? I didn’t know she was
coming here to help me plan my wedding, but shouldn’t she be professional, or
at least have an understanding of why I’m so confused?

“I’m sure you are. If you have business card perhaps
you could leave one with Jenna and she’ll get back to you when she has decided
what she wants to do.”

“No problem.” She chirps, digging in her pocket and
producing a business card. She hands it to my dad and doesn’t look back at me
as she thanks him and he sees her out.

“What was that about?” Jonas asks, picking up his
tea.

“I-”

I cry. I don't know why; Kip is pushing with this
wedding thing and something feels off. And he has employed a wedding planner
who clearly has an issue with me, to follow me around. Maybe she makes all
women she’s employed to help feel self-conscious about themselves before what’s
supposed to be the happiest day of their life. That can't be normal, she
clearly had a problem with me.

Jonas hops over the sofa and takes me in his arms as
I put my hands over my face and cry, my self esteem firmly bashed.

“Jen?”

It’s Deacon. Jonas tries to let go, but I grip his
jumper and keep my face hidden by my hands on his chest. What am I supposed to
tell him? The last thing I want to talk about on a rare day spent together is
my engagement. One I don't want to be a part of, and only agreed to because I
was so angry with Deacon. When, as usual, there was an explanation, I just
didn’t make the time to listen to it.

“Jen, what happened?”

“Nothing,” I step back and smile my appreciation at
my brother, “I stubbed my toe.”

He frowns, but says nothing and I see the conflict
in my dad’s and Jonas’ eyes. They don't want to lie to Deacon; I don't want to.
I’ll tell him, just not now.

“Where are we going?” I ask, noticing Deac is
driving the BMW towards Ashton and not the usual Foster, after we’ve been
driving for forty minutes.

“Shopping,” he looks at me quickly, a childish grin
on his face and I reach over to hold his hand.

“You’re taking me shopping?”

“Yes.” He laughs and I swoon at the sound. So
carefree and sexy, “Something wrong with shopping?”

“Nope.” I smile, shaking my head, most of the
feelings from earlier drifting to the back of my mind.

“It’s not what you think.”

“You say that a lot.” I giggle, because being around
him, just us being together, has me feeling giggly and giddy.

Deac pulls the car into the car park of an
industrial estate and parks up outside a warehouse.

“What are we buying?” I ask as he unfolds himself out
of the car, “Stolen equities?”

He raises a hand as I attempt to get out of the car.
Maybe we’re just stopping off here before wherever we’re really going. I cross
my arms, assuming he’s got to go inside for business but he opens my door and
holds his hand out for me to climb out. I take his hand and step out of the
car, kissing the back of his hand before he tucks me under his arm, and leads
me towards the warehouse.

“Is this where I die?” I ask, wrapping my arm around
his waist.

“Yep.” He bends down to whisper in my ear and it’s a
challenge trying to walk when he’s so close, his warm breath tickling my senses
as he whispers, “I could ravish you until you can't take any more. I’d be quite
happy to fuck you senseless.”