Will Denton woke the next morning with trepidation in his heart. His dreams were plagued with visions of the beautiful redhead who had invited him into her home and allowed him to touch and taste her. He’d been coveting that very thing for some time and was convinced being with her intimately would get her out of his system and his head. It had been foolish to think one night with her would be enough.

He was well known in his friend circle for being a player, and once he’d laid eyes on Chelsea Bronson, he knew he had to have her. When the opportunity finally presented itself to meet her, after tailing her for several weeks, he followed her into that bar. He watched her for some time before gathering the nerve to approach her. She looked lost and forlorn, but still sexy as fuck. Somehow, he convinced her to dance, hoping to woo her into his bed. Then he touched her, and his world shifted. Something about her made him want more than a quick shag. As he held her, he envisioned holding her night after night. When he tasted her and then enjoyed her incredible oral skills, he couldn’t imagine ever letting her go.

But it wasn’t just the sex, although that had been outstanding. It was more than that; he felt drawn to her, and in the process, compelled to be a better man—someone who didn’t use women carelessly. He wanted more from her and wished to give her more in return. The whole idea of it baffled him and made him cross.

Only a year earlier, he’d been chasing after a hot little blonde. Sadly, when he got a notification from his cardiologist that a suitable donor heart had been found, the blonde ghosted him. He’d heard later from some mutual acquaintances that she didn’t want to get saddled with an “old man with a bum ticker.”

It pissed him off—since when was forty-two old? However, he was grateful for the time to focus on his health without worrying about anyone else. Still, he’d grown tired of jacking off to porn vids and erotic stories and decided it was time to put himself back out there.

What he hadn’t counted on was the dry spell that followed his cardiac rehabilitation. It was pretty fucking annoying to finally have a healthy heart, only to have girls hightail it the moment they heard about his heart transplant. If they could make it past the fact that he’d had heart surgery, his scar was such a huge turn-off for most women that he was left feeling like it wasn’t even worth trying. He felt better than he had in years, and it was disheartening for a man who had been a womanizer not even to be able to get a date.

A few months earlier, when he’d seen Chelsea at a coffee shop ordering some raspberry tea, he thought she looked vaguely familiar. Trying hard not to look like a creeper, he took a picture of her on the sly. She was gone before he’d had the chance to approach her to ask where they might have met. But when he got home, he did an image search to see if he could discover who she was.

It didn’t take him long to find a news article with the picture of her and her husband, Liam. He remembered seeing this on the news. They’d been in a horrific car accident that had left Chelsea in a coma for a few days. When she woke, it was to the news that her husband had been killed. She’d never gotten to say goodbye.

For reasons Will couldn’t fathom, he felt compelled to read the remainder of the article and several more about the accident and the aftermath. Only then did he realize why she seemed familiar, and it left a pit in his stomach.

Unable to stop thinking about her, he began following her, and it became an obsession. Yet every time he thought of approaching her, his self-assurance vanished, and he became tongue-tied— until last night at the bar.

He couldn’t tell her he’d been stalking her; it would ruin everything. But it would come out eventually, so lying about it seemed fruitless. Perhaps it would be better to wait until they had spent more time together so she could get to know him before passing judgment. He convinced himself that it would be better that way.

Will waited until noon to call her, trying not to seem too eager. After a few rings, he assumed the call would go to voicemail. So, he was pleasantly surprised when she answered.

“Hello?”

“Hi, um, hello, Chelsea. This is ah, this is Will from last night.”

“Oh, hi, Will!” Her voice was cheerful and bolstered his confidence. “I was hoping you’d call.”

Will felt himself smile. “I’m glad to hear that. I had a great time last night and would love to see you again.”

“I’m free tonight,” she replied.

“There’s a new Italian restaurant that I’ve been wanting to try. I could pick you up at 7:00 pm, if that works for you.”

“Yes, I’d like that.”

“It’s a date, then,” he replied.

After he hung up, he nearly called back to spill his whole story. But he couldn’t. He needed to see her—to be with her at least once more before he admitted that he’d lied about not stalking her.

Telling himself it wasn’t a lie, but more an omission of a truth that he would eventually get around to sharing with her, he showed up at her house at 6:58 pm and took her out for Bolognaise, Polenta, and Tiramisu.

Afterward, he suggested a walk along the riverfront and was secretly thrilled when she slipped her hand into his and sighed. The sun had dipped, and there was a hint of a sliver of the moon in the dusky sky that made the evening feel magical. When she leaned her head against his arm, he felt an intense urge to kiss her until a sudden tug of conscience had him pulling away emotionally, a move that was not lost on Chelsea.

“It’s okay if you’ve decided you’d rather be just friends,” she said quietly, thinking that his busy brain was looking for a way to politely tell her thanks, but no thanks.

He stopped, heaved a heavy sigh, and pulled her toward the bench that overlooked the water.

“Chelsea, I want so much more than friendship with you, a fact that leaves me feeling overwhelmed. It’s…”

“It’s too much, too soon?” she asked, tilting her head and gazing into his eyes. “It’s okay. I’ve been feeling that way all day. We don’t have to rush; we can take things slow. But if we both want each other, I don’t think we should let our fears rule us. I’ve waited a long time not to feel broken anymore. Last night I felt alive for the first time since Liam left me.”

Will frowned. Was she in denial?

“You mean since he passed away?” he asked, then suddenly wished he hadn’t.

Cheslea pulled away. Will could feel the shift in her demeanor and said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up a difficult subject.”

“It’s fine,” she said, the way a woman says something’s fine when it’s clearly not.

“I’ve upset you and I’ve spoiled the mood,” he said regretfully. “How do I make things right?”

Silent tears trickled down her face. “I know I’m going to sound crazy, but I don’t think Liam is dead.”

Will was stunned. He’d read about her accident online; Liam was declared brain dead and taken off life support while she lay in a coma fighting for her life. But he didn’t think she was crazy; he knew she still carried a lot of grief. So, instead of arguing the point, he merely asked, “Why?”

Chelsea turned to face Will, her brows furrowed and her cheeks red and blotchy, wet with tears. “I can feel him, Will. I keep thinking that if he were truly gone, I would be able to let him go. But I still feel him, and I know that sounds like I’m stark raving mad, but I can’t help but wonder why I never got to see his body; why he’d already been conveniently cremated by the time I regained consciousness. So, in my head, it feels like he left me and is pretending to be dead.”

Will put his arms around her and chose his words carefully. “I can’t imagine how devastating that must be for you. I wish I could make things better.”

“You can,” she replied softly, looking at him with a mix of misery and hope swimming in her eyes. “Take me home and make love to me. I need to feel your touch, to feel you inside me. Please, Will. You don’t have to stay the night or ever see me again if you don’t want to; I come with a lot of emotional baggage. I wouldn’t even want to be with me. But if you truly wish to do something to ease my aching heart, help me forget for one night that I’m broken and alone.”

He should tell her now. He should admit everything, that he’d been stalking her, and why. But she was begging him to take her to bed and take away her pain for one night. It was wrong, but he couldn’t say no to her.

So, he did what any decent man would: he said yes and took her home.

Once there, she offered him a glass of wine and poured one for herself. This gave him one last chance to come clean, and he almost did, but she finished her wine in two gulps and shrugged out of her clothes, letting them fall to the floor.

She stood before him, naked and vulnerable. And all he could think of was how beautiful she looked and how much he wanted her. He undressed quickly and took her by the hand, leading her into the bedroom.

He wasn’t interested in a quick fuck; he wanted to make love to her, and to show her that she wasn’t permanently broken, just bent. Shyly, she sat on the bed and struggled to make eye contact. He joined her, brushing her lips softly with his before kissing his way down her neck until he reached the swell of her bosom.

Her breath hitched, and she moaned softly as he cupped one of her creamy breasts, bringing it to his mouth. His teeth gently captured her nipple, already hardened with excitement. He felt her relax and enjoy his touch, which made him want her even more.

Alternating between decadent nibbling and erotic suckling, he knew he was driving her wild. It would have been easy to take her hard and fast, but he ordered himself not to rush. She was like fine wine, meant to be savored. He drank her in one inch at a time as he planted a trail of soft, wet kisses down her belly, skipping over the main event and moving on to her inner thighs. She whimpered in complaint, but he continued to take his time, teasing her with his fingers and tongue. Her hips rocked and her back arched as her body silently begged for release.

She was writhing beneath his expert oral skills, reveling in things that the tongue on her clit and the fingers that had slipped inside her were making her feel. It was pure erotic torture!

“Oh, God, Will! Make me cum! Please! I need to cum.”

Will stopped briefly and looked up from his feast. “All in good time, Chelsea.”

He licked and nibbled until she was nearly sobbing. He’d never enjoyed a woman’s response to his touch as much as this moment with Chelsea. He impaled her with three fingers and flicked her little nub with his tongue, sending her over the edge in long, quaking waves of orgasm that left her breathless.

His patience fled as his need to be inside her took over with a vengeance. As her body still quivered, he pulled her to the edge of the bed, spread her legs, and was poised to enter her when he stopped.

“I need to know if you want me to use a condom, Chelsea.”

She shook her head and said, “No, it’s not necessary. I’m on the pill. Please fuck me, Will. I need you inside me!”

More than happy to oblige her, he entered her slowly and watched as her eyes rolled back in her head. Her moans of pleasure were intoxicating and made it hard for him to remember that his intention was to make love to her, not fuck her into next Tuesday.

As he invaded her silky, wet walls, he heard himself moan loudly. His thrusts were gentle at first, sensual in nature, while her body moved in rhythm with his. It was as though she were the perfect mate that had been waiting for him all of her life. He felt his world shift, much like it had when he first touched her on the dance floor. Only this was even more intense, and he knew there was no turning back. This was complete ecstasy.

Will felt the shudder of her body as she came for him over and over again. Each time he increased his pace, she cried out for more. They mated like lovers who’d been together forever. Eventually, he could wait no longer and was delighted that she didn’t want him to do so.

“Fuck me, Will! Fuck me hard, fast, and deep! Fill me with your cum!”

“Oh, God, Chelsea! You feel so good on my cock,” he cried out as he fucked her with wild abandon.

His balls tightened, then let go, as he filled her with his seed as the contractions of her orgasm milked him dry.

Panting heavily, he pulled out and lay beside her, pulling her into his arms. Kissing her forehead, he sighed. Chelsea was the woman he was meant to be with. He knew that now. It wasn’t just the incredible sex; he felt a bond with her that he’d never felt before. He only hoped that when he told her the truth, she would understand.

They lay without speaking until their ragged breath returned to normal. Chelsea broke the silence. “You’re thinking very loudly,” she said softly. “I hope you’re not regretting this.”

Lifting her chin so he could look into her eyes, he shook his head. “Never. How could I regret the most amazing sex I’ve ever experienced?”

Chelsea blushed a bit and smiled. “Good, because that was the best sex I’ve ever had as well. I don’t know where this is headed, but I know we mesh well in bed. It feels like we should take a chance on it being more, don’t you think?”

Now, Will thought. I need to tell her now.

“Chelsea, I’m about to tell you something that might make you feel otherwise. Promise me you will listen with an open mind and heart.”

Will felt Chelsea tense up a bit, but she remained calm. “I’m listening.”

He debated sitting up and telling her face-to-face. But it felt so good to hold her, and maybe it would help her better internalize what he had to say.

“Meeting you at the bar last night was not a chance encounter. I followed you there. Prior to that, I’d been following you for some time, trying to get up the courage to speak to you,” he began.

“So, you were stalking me?” she asked incredulously. She sat up and looked at him with furrowed brows. “Why?”

“Can I start at the beginning?” he asked earnestly.

“I think you’d better,” she said, grabbing a sheet to cover herself.

He made no such move, leaving himself naked, hoping to convey a sense of vulnerability to Chelsea.

“Several months ago, I spotted you in the coffee shop on Main Street and felt like I was seeing someone I’d known forever, yet I couldn’t recall meeting you anywhere. You were gone before I could ask you if you recognized me.”

Chelsea inhaled sharply and said, “Well, that’s a lot less ominous than I was expecting.”

“There’s more,” Will said sheepishly. “I snapped a quick photo of you with my phone so I could try to discern why you looked so familiar. A Google search turned up multiple articles about your accident.”

“So, you knew Liam was dead before I shared that with you.”

“Yes, does that matter?”

“I suppose it doesn’t. Go on; I have a feeling there is more.”

For a moment, words escaped him. Then he took her hands in his and said, “Chelsea, the heart that beats in my chest is a donor heart.”

She shrugged. “I know that.”

“It’s Liam’s heart.”

Misery swam in her eyes as she allowed the revelation to sink in. “My Liam’s heart?”

“Yes.”

“So, what is this? You felt guilty, so you decided to hunt down the heart donor’s widow and give her a pity fuck?”

“God, no, Chelsea! I tracked you down because that day in the coffee shop, you took my breath away. When I realized who you were, I figured you’d want nothing to do with me, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you, so I followed you. I know it was cowardly, but ever since my surgery, I seem to have lost my game. I used to have no trouble talking to women, but every time I tried to approach you, I got cold feet. I understand if you want me to go and never see me again.”

“This is a lot to take in, but it’s hardly a reason not to continue our budding relationship. Unless there is something more you aren’t telling me.”

Will looked at the ground, then back into her eyes. “It’s my fault Will is dead.”

Chelsea frowned. “What do you mean?”

“The accident. It was my car that…”

“No, that’s not possible,” Chelsea interrupted. “The other driver was killed instantly.”

“The guy across the hall from me pounded on my door that day, asking if he could borrow my car. He said he had some urgent errand and his car wouldn’t start. He looked like hell, and I suspected he was drunk or high, but I had a woman in my bed, and she was antsy for me to get back to her. So, I said yes, handed him the keys, and went back to bed. It was hours later when I discovered what had happened. The police came and, well, that doesn’t really matter. What matters is that I let that guy drive my car, and he killed Liam and put those scars on your face and neck. I ruined your life, Chelsea, then I benefited from the whole mess by receiving Liam’s heart.”

Tears streamed down Chelsea’s face. This man, this beautiful man who had just brought her back to life, was indirectly responsible for Liam’s death and had been carrying this burden for months.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me, Chelsea. I should have told you last night. But holding you in my arms as we danced as strangers, I felt like I’d known you all my life. I’m so sorry. It was selfish of me to keep this from you so that I could be with you. Somehow, I thought one night with you would get you out of my system. But I was wrong; I want every night with you and every day. But I…” He choked on his words, unable to finish.

A war was waging in Chelsea’s heart. What Will had done was wrong, but she had her own secret to share, and it hardly seemed fair to let this man wallow in misery without telling him the truth.

“I should go,” he said, reluctantly grabbing his clothes from the floor in the doorway.

“Wait; there’s something you need to know,” she said softly.

Will frowned, but he sat down and gave her his full attention.

“The day of the accident, Liam and I argued. He was furious that I’d missed a dinner party at his boss’s house the night before because I had to work late, and it was the last straw. Liam was done playing second fiddle to my career and tired of the excuses I gave for not putting him first. He suggested we go for a drive to talk about our relationship. Moments before the accident, he told me he wanted a divorce. I was crushed. I told him that I loved him so much and I’d do anything to have another chance to save our marriage. He told me that he wanted me to sell my company and focus on starting a family. When I said that was a lot to ask, he said that I didn’t love him enough. And that, even though he still loved me, our marriage was too broken to fix.”

Will took Chelsea’s hands in his, hoping to offer some comfort to her as she poured her heart out.

“I grabbed his arm and pleaded with him to compromise with me. He looked at me and jerked his arm away, then the world went black. So, you see, Will. You are not to blame for Liam’s death; I am. I distracted him and he took his eyes off the road and his hand off the wheel. I caused that accident, and I killed Liam and the other driver.”

She dissolved into tears as Will wrapped his arms around her. “No, baby, no, you didn’t kill anyone. Denny did. He was drunk off his ass and had just come from a drug deal. That was his important errand. The police ruled him to be at fault.”

“But if I had…”

“No, stop, Chelsea. The accident wasn’t your fault.”

“It wasn’t your fault either, Will.”

They sat quietly for a few moments until Will asked, “Do you want me to leave?”

Chelsea shook her head and said, “No, please don’t go. Do you believe in fate?”

Will shrugged.

“I knew I still felt Liam’s presence, but it’s not because I’m still pining for him. It’s because his heart still beats inside you. I’ve never danced with a stranger in my entire life, but I felt compelled to do so with you. Liam’s heart never stopped loving me, but he couldn’t accept me for who I was, and I was foolish not to realize until it was too late that something had to change.”

Will frowned. “It might be Liam’s heart inside me, but it’s MY mind and soul that love you, Chelsea. I’ve been waiting all my life to meet you. I know that sounds crazy.”

“No crazier than thinking his heart brought us together.”

“I need to know that when you dance with me and make love with me, will it be Liam that you’ll be thinking of? Because if we are going to be together, it has to be you and me, Chelsea. I have to know if you can finally let him go.”

She wiped the tears from her face and said, “He was willing to let me go, so no, it won’t be him I’m thinking of when I’m in your arms. You’ll be the one I’m falling in love with. But will you be able to forgive me when I get caught up in work and forget to come home?”

Will grinned. “If you forget to come home, I’m doing something wrong. I guarantee you that my oral skills will be enough of an enticement for you not to neglect our sex life.”

Chelsea blushed. “I’ve never cum so hard and so many times as I did with you. You have a wicked tongue and clever fingers, Will. I want to be with you. I want us to help heal each other. Stay with me?”

He kissed her and smiled as her words reminded him of yet another Sam Smith song. Oh yes, he’d stay with her. She was all he needed.

Who knew that his new heart would help him find the love of his life?