Second Chance Girl (Happily Inc. #2)

They tussled briefly over the bill. Okay, she offered to pay half and he gave her a withering look followed by, “That is simply not how things are done. I invited you, Violet. The pleasure is mine.”

As they walked to the front of the restaurant, he placed his hand on the small of her back. She felt the warmth of each finger, the pressure of his palm and did her best not to purr like some lonely cat. When they reached her car, she gave herself a quick “say goodbye and get out of here” lecture, in a futile attempt to keep herself from acting foolishly. Or worse, to avoid throwing herself at him. After all, they were in a parking lot and while it was dark, they were hardly anywhere private. Even more significant, she had no idea what he thought of her. She tried to be strong but the fear of rejection always made her feel small. Still, she had to say something only she had no idea what it was supposed to— He drew her close and kissed her. The unexpected action stole her breath—or maybe it was simply the proximity of the man.

His mouth was firm yet gentle. One hand settled on her hip while the other tangled in her hair. She rested her fingers on his strong, broad shoulders. He smelled good, he kissed better and after maybe eight seconds, she knew she was a total goner.

Figuring some version of what the hell, she wrapped her arms around his neck, leaned into him and parted her lips. He didn’t hesitate—not for a second. His tongue swept inside, then swept her away. Heat grew, as did need. Wanting whimpered. Oh, to be that girl, she thought regretfully.

Ulrich drew back and looked at her. “You are an unexpected treat, Violet Lund.”

“As are you.”

He smiled and stroked her cheek. “At the risk of saying the wrong thing, would you like to come back to my hotel room?”

She thought about how it would be between them. Both naked, his dark blue eyes blazing with passion. He would feel good inside of her—she just knew it. She could ask him to talk in that sexy voice of his as he touched her everywhere. There were so many reasons to say yes.

“I want to,” she admitted. “But you’re leaving and I’m not that girl.”

His expression never changed. He kissed her again—lightly this time. “You not being that girl is part of your charm. Thank you for a wonderful evening. One I shall never forget.”

The perfect words. She hoped there was a touch of regret in his voice. Maybe more than a touch.

He stepped back, brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her skin. Then he opened her car door for her and waited until she was safely inside before stepping back and waving. She drove away with the thought that doing the right thing had never felt so incredibly sucky in her whole life.

*

MATHIAS’S MOUTH CLAIMED Carol’s with an intensity that stole her breath. His hands moved up and down her back and her sides, arousing with every touch, confusing her and exciting her at the same time. She didn’t know what was happening or what he was thinking or what she was thinking, she only knew that she never wanted him to stop.

“Carol,” he breathed, then eased her sideways so they weren’t trapped by the sofa and coffee table anymore. “Carol. You have to say this is okay. Please.”

His voice was thick, his tone pleading. The passion was clear in the way he claimed her mouth over and over again. She could barely manage a quick “Yes” between kisses. When his tongue skimmed her bottom lip, she parted for him and then groaned when he swept inside.

Heat poured through her. Hunger stole her breath and any chance at rational thought. When he grabbed her hands and put them on his chest, she allowed herself the thrill of touching him. His shoulders, his back, his arms. He felt good. He felt right. She wanted him, wanted whatever this was.

When his hands reached for her T-shirt, she only had a moment to think that she was wearing her work clothes and probably smelled of hay and gazelle feed. But before she could figure out how to offer an apology or ask for a second to shower, her shirt was off and his hands were touching her breasts over her bra.

At the first stroke of his skilled fingers, she knew that showers and eau du gazelle didn’t really matter. Then her bra went flying and his mouth was on her tight nipple and she couldn’t care about anything except what he was doing to her body.

He kissed her everywhere. Somehow her clothes disappeared and she was naked. He hadn’t done more than take off his shoes, but before she could complain, he was pushing her onto the club chair across from the sofa and dropping to his knees. Then he parted her and leaned over to kiss her so intimately, so deeply, that she nearly came right there.

He found her clit on the first try and sucked it gently. He inserted a finger inside of her, pushing in all the way, then withdrawing. At the same time, he circled her swollen center, finding the perfect steady rhythm that had her gasping, straining and hoping he never, ever stopped.

It didn’t take her long. About thirty seconds in she drew her knees up and pushed down on his finger. A minute in, she was panting and pleading and five seconds after that, it happened.

She came with a cry that was ripped from the very soul of her. Pleasure filled her as her muscles rippled and released. Mathias kept touching her, kept moving in and out, drawing every ounce of it from her, then slowing so the sensations lingered. Only then did he sit back and smile at her.

“That’s my girl.”

She stared at him, both satiated and in shock. “I can’t believe that just happened.” She was naked. In his living room. There was a dog on the sofa, although Sophie had snored through the entire, ah, event. What on earth?

He reached for his jeans and pulled a condom out of his wallet, then stretched out on the carpet and smiled. “Any chance you’d consider being on top?”

Seven simple words. Seven words that chased away any thought of being confused or embarrassed. Seven words that made everything right.

“I just might.”

“Good, because I’ve had this recurring fantasy about you.”

“It’s not that...what?” Fantasy about her? Had he really said that?

He winked at her, then closed his eyes. “This is going to be good.”

She smiled, then waited for him to start undressing. Or say something else. Or look at her. Only he didn’t do any of those things...he just breathed heavily. Too heavily. The deep breathing became a snore nearly as loud as Sophie’s.

Carol sat there, naked, sexually satisfied and totally humiliated. She didn’t even have to ask what had happened. It was obvious. More than obvious. She’d had the best sex ever and Mathias had passed out.

Was that just exactly her life?





CHAPTER EIGHT