Free Season of Second Chances by Brighton Walsh Page B

Groaning, he dropped his head against the headboard when she began to move. “Jesus, you feel incredible.”
    She murmured her assent as she rocked over him. Her hands were everywhere—running over his chest, his shoulders, down his abs until she couldn’t go any farther. When her fingers snaked up his neck and slid into his hair, her grip unyielding as she tugged him forward, he opened his eyes to find her staring at him.
    She was so exposed like this, her eyes so expressive. She looked vulnerable in a way she hadn’t allowed him to see since being here. He’d missed this, so fucking much. How had he let this beautiful, amazing woman slip from his grasp? She used to be his, was going to be his for the rest of their lives, and he’d fucked it all up.
    And the thought that tomorrow she was going to leave again and this might be his only chance to make amends pushed him to do what he should have done a long time ago.
    Pulling her to him, their chests flush against one another, he held her as tight as he dared. “Claire,” he whispered into her ear. “Oh God, baby, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
    He kissed her neck, her cheek, her jaw, pulling away to look at her once more. He brushed her hair back, cradling her face in his hands. Her eyes were closed, but even with them shuttered from him, the wetness at the corners told him everything he needed to know. Pulling her back into the cradle of his arms, he rocked her over him as they both slowly found their release, holding her so tightly to himself.
    Holding her like he’d never have to let her go.

Chapter Eleven
    The knot that had taken up residence in Claire’s stomach for most of the duration of her visit had—miraculously—dissolved during the night. Though, miraculously probably wasn’t entirely accurate. She was pretty sure it was directly related to the three times she and Logan had made love, each time a little more playful than the last.
    When she’d agreed to follow him to his bedroom the night before, had agreed to sleep with him once more, she’d thought it would merely be a goodbye romp. She’d thought she could keep her heart shuttered from everything, even though she already knew how close she was to falling in love with him again. Or still. Hell, she didn’t know anymore.
    But then he’d been so careful with her, so reverent and sweet, and when he’d held her while he moved inside, his voice full of anguish and sorrow as he’d apologized, she’d crumbled. Right there in front of him, every single wall she’d built to protect herself dissolved into a pile of rubble in the face of his whispered words of regret.
    She knew there was more they needed to discuss, issues they still needed to work on, but this was a start. Maybe...maybe this didn’t have to be the end. Maybe it could be their new beginning.
    San Diego had been her home nearly all her life, but with her grandmother gone and her sister in Denver, she knew there was nothing left for her there. She needed to move on, needed to put the house up for sale and find somewhere new to call home. Why not Chicago? Harry, the Vice President in the Chicago offices, had already begged her over lunch last week to move back and accept a position overseeing the Chicago area once again.
    Would Logan be interested in that? Could he see her back here in his life again as easily as she was able to?
    Logan lay next to her on his stomach, and she snuggled farther into his side, tracing the roman numerals denoting Sophie’s birth date tattooed on his upper back. Once upon a time, he’d planned to get their wedding date tattooed directly below it. The thought tripped up her insides, made them somersault over one another.
    It made her long with an ache that shook her to her bones.
    She wanted this...wanted him. They could talk about everything this morning. After Logan put himself out there last night, she could meet him halfway, extend an offer he hopefully wouldn’t be able to say no to.
    * * *
    The tinkle