3 BOOK BUNDLE "Her Last Love Affair", "Her Last Love Affair: Breathing Without You" AND "Her Last Love Affair: The Final Journey" (6 page)

BOOK: 3 BOOK BUNDLE "Her Last Love Affair", "Her Last Love Affair: Breathing Without You" AND "Her Last Love Affair: The Final Journey"
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“Stephen,” she gasped, pushing herself further into the
couch and rubbing her clitoris against the hard edge.

“Ugh,” he grunted, his hips meeting her bottom.

Strands of Allie’s hair was sticking to her sweaty forehead,
as she bucked beneath him, urging him to move and stimulate that sweet spot
once more.

Stephen, however, was not going to be rushed. He gently
slipped from her, before repeating the slow, smooth thrust. Again and again, he
repeated that motion, breathing deeply, almost as though he were meditating.

Allie was far from relaxed. Her hips jerked with as much
movement as they were capable of and she pleaded in soft whispers and strangled
moans. It was exquisite torture. He brought her so close to orgasm, but never
took her all the way.

“Just breath,” Stephen urged.

“I…am…breathing,” she replied brokenly, as he brushed over
the sensitive skin of her sex once more. Her legs kicked out involuntarily and
she wrapped her right foot around his calf.

“Trust me,” he continued in a lower tone, draping himself
over her back and leaning towards her ear. “It’ll come,” he assured her. “Deep
breaths.”

Unable to do anything else, Allie followed his instructions,
inhaling deeply, before releasing the breath through an open mouth. Having
always held her breath when she felt a climax building, she was certain
breathing would do nothing to help her, but she continued to do as directed.

“That’s good,” Stephen cooed, as his hips met her ass in the
same gentle rhythm. He knew she was teetering on the edge and he also knew
exactly what would push her over it. Withdrawing almost completely from her, he
simply held himself still, the mushroomed head of his manhood stretching her
entrance. Then, without warning, he slammed himself forwards, his balls
slapping against her inner thighs.

The sudden, forceful thrust caused Allie to open her mouth
and release a grunted breath of surprise. However, that exhalation quickly
turned into a squeal of pleasure, as molten lava shot up from her sex and
warmed her entire body. The small muscles of her sex spasmed quickly, squeezing
Stephen in short, sharp bursts.

The intensity of the sensation caught Stephen off guard, and
he suddenly found his eyes rolling back in his head, as his shaft lengthened
and released its sticky climax in strong bursts. Breathing hard, he slumped
over her, his muscles no longer capable of keeping him upright. “I don’t
think…” he panted. “It would have been like that nine years ago.”

Having still not quite found her way back to Earth, Allie
giggled girlishly, while her sex continued to lazily milk Stephen’s spent
shaft.

Chapter Six

Best Friends

C
arrying a clear plastic container of caramel
Frappuccino, Rosalind gently grasped her sunglasses and perched them on the top
of her head. As she rounded the corner, she saw that Allie’s front door was
ajar and her brow creased. Approaching, her steps slowed and she drew back the
cup of icy liquid, as though prepared to use it as a weapon if necessary. With
her free hand warily outstretched, she pushed at the partly open door. “Allie?”
she asked, while the hinges creaked and the door slowly swung wide.

She was met by a broad male back, dressed in a black leather
jacket. He was running a hand over the nape of his neck and twisted at the
sound of Rosalind’s voice. “Oh, hey,” he said in a husky southern accent.

“Umm,” she mumbled in response. “Hey,” she echoed
bewilderedly.

“I’m just leaving,” he explained. “Allie’s…err…” he paused,
glancing to his left. “Just coming,” he added, when he noticed movement coming
from the bedroom.

Rosalind took a step forward. Pushing the door wider, she
leaned her upper body into the apartment and tried to follow the focus of the
man in front of her. There, she found Allie dressed in only a bathrobe. Her
loose hair was mussed from sleep, except Rosalind guessed there hadn’t been
much in the way of sleep. Allie’s face was set in a silly contended smile, but
there were bags under her eyes.

“Allie, sweetheart,” the man crooned. “You’ve got a
visitor,” he informed her, gesturing with an open palm towards Rosalind’s top
half.

Allie glanced from the face of the man to Rosalind’s
confused features. “Hi,” she greeted, her tone lifting in question.

Righting herself, Rosalind stepped into the room, pushing
past the leather-jacketed stranger. “You forgot?” she demanded.

“Forgot what?” Allie responded.

Opening her mouth to speak, Rosalind sucked in a breath,
before remembering that they weren’t alone in the room. Quickly pressing her
lips together, she twisted to face the man. “Do you mind?” she asked rudely.

“Oh,” he replied, uncomfortably. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right,” Allie chipped in, wandering towards her
date from the night before and placing a placating hand on his chest. “Look,
umm…” she murmured.

“It’s okay,” he quickly stated, sensing her disquiet at the
tension unmistakably mounting between the two women. “I’ll get out of your
hair,” he added, motioning towards the door. “You know,” he chuckled. “I had a
great time last night.”

“Me too,” Allie smiled, following him closely as he reached
the threshold.

Before leaving, he leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on
Allie’s lips. “It’d be nice to do this again sometime,” he suggested quietly.

“Maybe,” Allie stated, waving him off.

Rosalind didn’t take her eyes from the pair. As she watched
the exchange, her mouth dropped in disbelief.

With a frustrated sigh, Allie closed the door and rapidly
turned on her friend. “Did you learn those manners in finishing school?” she
demanded. “You know, this is my home, Ros.”

“And you know, we had a date for lunch,” Rosalind snapped
back. “I was waiting in the restaurant for over an hour,” she added. “Have you
any idea how worried I was.”

“So worried you stopped at Starbucks on the way,” Allie
pointed out, striding across the room and tossing the words over her shoulder
as she breezed into the kitchen.

Glancing down at the cup in her hands, Rosalind huffed in
response to the accusation. “What the hell is going on with you?” she insisted.
“You don’t turn up to lunch; you don’t even remember we’re supposed to be
having lunch. You’ve got strange men in your apartment, and when I called you
at work yesterday, they told me you were off sick.”

Allie didn’t bother to lift her head at the long list of
complaints Rosalind seemed set on airing. She was intently focused, instead, on
fixing herself a cup of coffee. Huffing, she slammed cabinet doors, as she
tried to find a fresh jar of the instant stuff. “I’ve been feeling a little off
color,” she stated, choosing to only acknowledge the last of Rosalind’s points.

“Well, you clearly felt a lot better when you picked up Mr.
Texas.”

“Kansas,” Allie matter-of-factly snapped.

“What?”

“Stephan is from Kansas,” she explained, closing another
cabinet with a sharp bang.

“I don’t care where he’s from,” Rosalind erupted, marching
into the kitchen. “Look,” she sighed, trying to keep a tenuous hold on her
desire to grab her friend and shake some sense into her. “I just want to know
that you’re all right. You’ve been acting so strangely these last few weeks.”

Giving up on her search for coffee and trying to remember
the last time she actually went grocery shopping, Allie perched herself on a
stool by her breakfast bar. Lifting her face to Rosalind, she shook her head.
“I’ve been having fun these last few weeks, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“All right,” Rosalind conceded. “There is nothing wrong with
having fun. But there’s more to it than that.” The tension seeming to suddenly
pop, she slowly wandered to where Allie sat and took the stool next to her.
Fortunately, on that day, she was wearing pants and had no problem settling
herself on the seat. “We’re supposed to be friends, aren’t we?”

“Of course we’re friends,” Allie automatically responded.

“So why can’t you talk to me about whatever it is that’s
bothering you?”

“Nothing is bothering me,” she countered, placing her hands
on the counter in front of her and steepling her fingers. “I’ve been having the
time of my life, Ros,” she added, smiling to herself.

Rosalind could tell that her best friend’s thoughts had
taken her elsewhere and didn’t bother to attempt to bring her back for some
moments. She took the opportunity to really look at Allie, to note the genuine
look of happiness that radiated from her. However, she knew on a deeper level
all was far from well with the woman beside her. It was a feeling in her gut,
something she could never put into words, but a sensation that she simply
couldn’t ignore.

“I’ve been looking at the world differently.” It was Allie
who broke the silence, as she continued to thoughtfully gaze at her entwined
hands.

“But why?” Rosalind asked, beginning to feel as though she
were beating against a brick wall. “What’s happened?”

Allie considered how she would answer for several seconds,
before lifting her gaze to Rosalind and fixing her with open, honest eyes.
“I’ve been given a wake-up call,” she said softly.

“What the heck does that mean?” Rosalind scoffed back. “You
going to die?”

Allie knew that the suggestion had been made in jest; a
thought so outrageous that it didn’t occur to Rosalind that it could be true.
She wanted to deny it, to laugh and reassure her friend. However, she couldn’t.
Instead, an uncomfortable silence descended on the pair.

The smile quickly vanished from Rosalind’s face to be
replaced by one of mortification. “Allie,” she whispered, that one word asking
a thousand questions and expressing a hundred emotions.

***

The women talked well into the evening and, in the end, Rosalind
spent the night on Allie’s couch. They only briefly discussed the disease,
Allie admitting that she’d not bothered to read anything about it, and that, if
she were honest, she didn’t care. She knew enough to know that her days were
now numbered, all she wanted to do was enjoy them while they lasted.

Naturally, Rosalind expressed concern and urged Allie to go
back to the doctor, or to at least consider the possibility of chemotherapy.
But she realized, even as she was speaking, that Allie’s mind was firm.

By the Sunday morning, Allie wasn’t sure whether she felt
better or worse for having unburdened herself. In some ways, it was a relief to
no longer carry the secret of her illness alone. On the other hand, spending
the night talking about cancer and death had put those things back at the forefront
of her mind and depressed her deeply. What she need, desperately, was a new
distraction. Another man, another old flame, another good fuck.

Hustling Rosalind into the shower and inviting her to raid
her wardrobe, Allie settled on the floor by her coffee table and opened her
laptop. As she waited for the computer to come to life, she allowed herself to
drift back over the years; searching for faces that she’d like to see again.
Her brain slowed in its hunt, lingering over a man she’d met at a journalists’
conference the summer before. He’d given her his card and asked her to call,
but she’d never bothered. In fact, she’d stupidly tossed the card in the trash
when she’d got home. However, she did remember that he worked for the LA Times
and his name was Mitch, so he should be traceable.

Going straight to the Los Angeles Times’ site, she began
scrolling through articles, only glancing at the by-line of each. Eventually,
she found one written by Mitch Hatley. “Hatley,” she mumbled. “That’s it.” As
she spoke, she clicked on his contact address and wrote a quick note, simply
mentioning where they’d met and asking him to contact her.

With that done, she logged onto her email account and was
struck by the number of alerts she’d been sent from Facebook. Several people,
some she was certain she’d never met, had added her as a friend. However, one
name stood out among the rest. Quickly, she opened a new browser and signed
into the site, eager to read the private message he’d left her. It was brief,
but it sent a delightful shiver down her spine.

‘Allie, so good to see you on here! I know it’s been a long
time since high school, but hope you remember me. Funny enough, I’ve been
living in San Francisco for a year. I had no idea you were working for the
Chronicle - that’s nothing against the paper, I just don’t read the news.
Anyway, the point is, I would have got in touch sooner if I’d known you were so
close. Would be amazing to see you.’

“Who’s Reece?” the question was asked just before a crunch
of toast echoed around the room.

Startled, Allie wrenched her neck around to find Rosalind
leaning on the back of the couch peering at the laptop screen. “For God’s
sake,” she muttered, trying to catch her breath from the fright. “He’s…umm,”
she added, trying to regain some composure. “He’s…”

“He’s hot,” Rosalind offered, glad to have something
lighthearted to concentrate on after the soul-draining conversation of the
night before. Her head tilting to the side, as she tried to get a better look
of the small profile picture in the corner of the message.

Allie cast her gaze back to the screen and noted that Rosalind
was right. Reece had always been attractive, but he had grown even more so with
age. His dark, almost black hair was cut in an Ivy league style with just a few
strands of his short bangs clinging damply to his forehead. Although she could
only see his head and shoulders, it certainly seemed as though he was topless
and the bright azure sky suggested that he was on a beach somewhere. His grin
was as bright and wide was always, causing his deep brown eyes to sparkle.

“So, you know him?” Rosalind asked, nudging her friend from
her assessment of the image.

“Err, yeah,” she responded, peering reluctantly over her
shoulder. “We were at high school together.”

“Oh,” Rosalind replied, taking another loud bite of toast.
“You were close?” she probed.

“Well,” she hedged. “Yeah,” she acknowledged, unable to keep
her focus on the woman behind her and allowing her eyes to move back to Reece’s.
“We dated for a while. He was my first love,” she added quietly.

“Really?” Rosalind said grinning. “Well, why the hell did
you let him go?”

Allie chuckled, dipping her head. “We went to different
colleges and just drifted apart,” she admitted, wondering why she’d let that
happen.

“And?” Rosalind urged.

“And what?”

“Are you going to see him?”

“Oh,” Allie blurted. “I’m not sure,” she shrugged.

“What?” Rosalind almost shouted, rounding the couch and
throwing herself on to it. Quickly leaning forwards, she rested her chin on
Allie’s shoulder as she tried to get a better glimpse of him. “Why the hell
wouldn’t you want to see him again?” she demanded. “Was he an ass?” she quickly
added, not waiting for a response. “Did he cheat, lie?”

“No, no,” Allie shook her head. “Nothing like that.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Allie silently gazed at the picture of a happy, handsome,
hunky Reece. “He’s not like the others,” she eventually explained.

“Because he really meant something to you,” Rosalind
offered. It was phrased as though it could have been a question, but they both
knew it wasn’t.

“I wouldn’t want to ruin what we had before,” Allie nodded.

“Well,” Rosalind said thoughtfully, leaning back on the
couch and popping the last piece of toast into her mouth. “I don’t see how you
can ruin what you had. That’ll never change,” she said sagely, the words
muffled by crunching. “But you have got a chance to add to those memories.”

Allie cocked her head to the side, still staring at the
computer screen. “I suppose,” she reluctantly agreed. As far as she was
concerned, although Rosalind’s logic was sound, it didn’t mean things would
work out that way.

“Look,” Rosalind announced, leaning forward once more and
placing both hands on Allie’s shoulders. “I don’t necessarily agree with the
way you’re dealing with things,” she said. “But,” she quickly added, knowing
that Allie would simply repeat the same arguments she’d put forward the night
before. “In the spirit of having no regrets, I think you’d be really stupid not
to make the most of this.”

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