I find it ironic, because the first day I arrived here, her arse was the first thing I saw. Now here I am five years later, and the same fucking thing happens. Déjà vu at its fucking worst. Is the universe trying to fuck with me, or what?

My hands are slightly trembling as I pull into the driveway. My gut is churning. My eyes are trained on her. Please be happy to see me, is my first thought. She straightens up. Her back still to me. When her body stiffens, I know she knows it’s me. The sound of my car probably gave it away.

I still have my Monaro. I’ll never get rid of her. I finally got to finish it. It looks so bad-arse. I fucking love this car. It still has the original Flamenco Red paintwork. I just had it redone. I also kept the black GT stripes on the hood. I replaced the tired old motor with a Blown 350 Chev and a manualised automatic transmission. The interior has been refreshed using a soft black leather. The seats have been recovered in black leather as well, with a red leather stripe through the centre. It has chrome-spoked mags on the fat eighteen-inch tyres. It looks fucking sick. Nothing gets the adrenaline pumping more than being in control of 750HP of pure muscle. I’ve had so many offers to buy this beauty, but I’d never part with her. I’ve spent a small fortune getting her to where she is now, but it was worth every cent. She’s my baby.

Everything seems to slow down as I stay seated in my car staring in her direction. It’s like the world’s suddenly moving in slow motion. She turns. When her eyes meet mine she takes my breath away, literally. Fuck she’s even more beautiful than I remember. Her eyes widen in shock and the sponge in her hand drops to the ground.

I can’t seem to move as I drink her in. My heart is thumping furiously against my ribcage. Fuck I’ve missed those eyes, those lips—her. She hasn’t changed much, just grown. A sixteen year old Indi was beautiful. A twenty-two year old Indi—fucking stunning. My kid is no longer a kid. She’s a sexy-as-hell woman. Drop dead fucking gorgeous.

Only when I manage to pull myself together do I get out of the car. Her eyes are still trained on me. I feel my lips turn up at the corners. Words can’t express how good it feels to see her again in the flesh. I take a step towards her. Her eyes narrow and my smile grows. I’ve missed her spunk, and the attitude that not only pissed me off all those years ago, but turned me the hell on.

“Hey,” I say as I walk towards her. She doesn’t reply. Instead her hands move to her hips and her scowl deepens. I guess after all this time she’s still pissed off with me. I can’t really blame her. “Well look at you,” I add as I bend down and retrieve the sponge she dropped by her feet. As I stand, I can’t hold back the whistle that escapes my mouth as my eyes travel up those sexy, lean legs of hers. It makes my cock twitch. The effect she has on me hasn’t dwindled one bit. What I wouldn’t give to run my fingers, better yet, my tongue, up the length of her legs, burying my face in her sweetness. “The kid’s all grown up,” I smirk when my eyes meet hers again.

Fuck me she’s fine.

“I’m not a fucking kid anymore,” she snaps.

Leaning forward so my face is only inches from hers, I whisper, “I can see that.” Her pupils dilate and I hear her breath hitch. I immediately know my effect on her hasn’t diminished either. It takes everything in me not to pull her into my arms and squeeze the fucking life out of her. Why did I leave it so long to see her? Just being near her again makes me feel alive. “It’s good to see you again, Indi.”

“Well, the feeling’s not mutual,” she says frowning. She’s lying, I can tell. Her body language is saying the complete opposite to her words. She’s still a stubborn arse I see. My eyes leave hers and gaze down at her lips. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve dreamt of those lips over the past five years. Too many to count. I want to kiss her so bad my fucking chest aches. I let my eyes drop a little lower. That’s when I see the necklace I bought her for her seventeenth birthday. I can’t believe she’s still wearing it. It has me smiling like a damn fool. You have no idea what seeing that means to me.

I watch her chest rise and fall as her breathing quickens. She can deny it all she wants, but she’s effected by me. “My eyes are up here, buddy,” she spits. I want to laugh at her comment. I love her smart mouth. I’m glad this part of our relationship hasn’t changed.

Underneath the material of her white top, I can see a hint of her white lace bra covering the swell of her breasts. It gives me an idea. I can’t help myself. I lift the sponge in my hand until it’s hovering over her tits. I hear her gasp when she realises what I’m about to do. I clench my fist tight and the water drips out. It soaks into the fabric of her top, making it transparent. Her nipples harden and so does my cock. Christ. I haven’t even touched her yet and I swear I could break diamonds with this fucker.

Peeling my gaze from her spectacular rack, I make eye contact with her again. I’m feeling quite pleased with myself, but that feeling doesn’t last long. The anger I see in her eyes is not what I’m expecting. When did she lose her sense of humour? I guess I should’ve known from past experience, when it comes to her, I’m playing with fire. Especially since she has five years of pent up anger towards me inside her.

This is one time I’m not anticipating her next move. So when it comes, I’m totally taken by surprise. She raises her right leg slightly and then, BOOM. She knees me fair smack in the nuts. Hard. Jesus fucking Christ.

All the air gushes from my lungs as pain radiates through my whole body. My dick goes instantly limp. Fuck, I think she just killed it. I’m pretty sure my boys are now lodged somewhere in my throat.

A feral, high-pitched sound escapes me as I fall to my knees in agony. “Stay the fuck away from me, arsehole,” she screams as she turns and runs inside.

Somebody call an ambulance. I think I’m gonna die.

CHAPTER TWO

Indiana

Tears threaten to fall as I storm down the hall towards my room, but I will them back down. I shed a lot of tears after he left, too many to count. I refuse to shed another. Fuck him.

Ripping my wet shirt over my head, I throw it across the room in anger before flopping face first onto my bed. He’s back. After all this time he’s come home. I don’t know how I feel about that. Actually, yes I do. I’m elated, devastated, and pissed off like you wouldn’t believe. Is it possible to feel so many emotions at the same time? I guess it is, because I’m feeling all of them right now.

I knew in my heart what I felt for him all those years ago was still lurking somewhere in the background. Hidden deep within the depths of my soul. Seeing him now has brought everything flooding back to the surface. It took me years to move on after he left. Fucking years.

I can’t go there again, I just can’t.

There was a time I would’ve done anything to see him again. Absolutely anything. But, he’s come back five years too late. I have Mark now. Next week we’ll be celebrating one year together. I care for him deeply. Maybe even love him. To be honest, I’m not sure. He’s already told me he loves me, but I can’t say it back. Not until I’m one hundred percent certain. Maybe because what I feel for him doesn’t hold a candle to what I once felt for Carter. I think that’s what’s throwing me.

Mark’s handsome, successful and hardworking, but he’s never been able to ignite the burning desire within like Carter could. Mark and I met at college. He chased me for months before I eventually gave in and agreed to go on a date with him. We’ve been together ever since. He’s the first guy I’ve been intimate with since Carter. I stayed clear of any kind of relationship after he left.