You're All I Think About_Second Chance Romance

by Scarlett Avery

"I've been a little busy myself," she says, lifting her chin up.

  "What does that translate to?"

  "I-I haven't been with anyone in a while," she admits.

  "What’s a while?"

  "A month."

  Really?

  That's all the encouragement I need.

  “No one has been taking care of you, Charlotte?”

  Another one-shoulder shrug.

  “Oh, that's a pity.”

  "Don't look so surprised. It's not as if I allow every bloke I meet to shag me.” Thank God for that. “I have high standards." Yes, she does. That's another thing I love about her.

  "It's hard to believe that any man has the willpower to resist you."

  "I could say the same about you, yet you’ve also been celibate," she says.

  "And here we are."

  “Here we are," she repeats.

  "Can I confess something?"

  "Yes," she whispers.

  “All I wanted to do for that last hour in today’s meeting was to cut it short. Then get up—knowing full well that all eyes would be on me—walk towards you, flip you over my shoulder, carry you out of there fireman style, rush back to the car, yank you over my lap, flip up the bottom of that gray dress you wore so well and spank your perfect ass for looking so damn good. Each slap would leave my imprint. Of course, this would all happen under the watchful eye of the chauffeur as he races to the hotel."

  "God."

  Languorously, I trace the V-neck front of her dress with a finger. "Oh, but I'm not done," I warn. "Once we reach our destination, I wouldn't even need the chauffeur to come to a complete stop. I’d hop out and drag you all the way up to my room so that we could spend the rest of the afternoon—and evening—in bed, where I’d be pushing that hot-as-all-fuck body of yours to the limits until you begged for mercy,” I pause. “And you know what?”

  She shakes her head. “No,” she whispers.

  “It took Herculean strength not to give into my urges,” I say, and the words come out hoarse.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t, Barrett… Maybe we should keep what we had in the past.”

  "Is that what you really want?”

  “Things always get so…" She pauses. "…complicated between us.”

  "If by complicated you mean passionate, then yes. But I'd rather live with passion, even if things aren't perfect, than live a bland existence of predictable encounters. I know it's the same for you."

  "Passion makes people do crazy things."

  "Amen to that."

  She bursts out laughing.

  “One night." She arches a suspicious eyebrow. "Be mine just for one night, Charlotte.” When she doesn’t respond, I venture one step closer and slip my hands down to her ass. "Do you really want to be alone tonight?” She gives me a one-shoulder shrug again. “You wouldn't be up here with me if that was the case and you surely wouldn't be wearing this dress."

  "A dress you bought me," she says.

  "One you chose out of the half a dozen I bought you," I reply.

  "I like it on me."

  "That’s a pretty feeble protest and we both know it." I pause. "Let’s make a deal.”

  “That sounds like an invitation for me to hand over my soul to the devil.”

  “Maybe, but your body will thank you,” I grin.

  She laughs.

  “What’s the deal, mister?”

  “What happens in Athens, stays in Athens."

  She doesn’t answer. She bores her eyes into mine. She’s thinking. Considering.

  And I wait.

  “That’s a loaded proposal, Barrett.”

  “It’s supposed to be.”

  I’d gracefully bow down and drop the subject in a heartbeat if she didn't want this. I’d respect her choice. But she had to go and bite down on her lower lip while a small moan escapes her. As if that wasn't enough, her half-lidded eyes tell an opposite story to the words that just slipped past her lips.

  That's it. I'm going in for the kill.

  I want her. Plain and simple.

  But of course, I’m a gentleman. Ultimately, the decision is hers. My job is to nudge her into saying yes.

  “Maybe it wasn’t about me being too busy to fuck this past month. Maybe this self-imposed celibacy was about a build-up to this moment. Maybe I was saving all my cum for you, Charlotte. Because after all, you and I both know how much you love my cum—down your throat, across your tits, on your stomach, deep inside your sweet pussy and up your perfect ass.”

  I’m done playing nice.

  “Jesus, Barrett. Your mouth…” she pants.

  “The same mouth that can bring you the pleasure your body has been denied for too many weeks. I'm certain you can make do with your fingers and sex toys—”

  “Sex toys are great, but—"

  "It's not the same," I finish her sentence.

  She shakes her head. “No.”

  The fact that her eyes don't waver from mine ignites something deep inside me.

  "Forgive me for being presumptuous. Given that for so many long and lonely weeks you’ve been uncared for, let me give you what you need." My voice is uncharacteristically soft. “You’re a queen. You deserve to sit on your throne at least once a day. Twice, preferably. Three times, ideally. Use my face as your throne, kitten.”

  Her breath catches in the back of her throat.

  “Shit,” she pants.

  “Yes,” I affirm.

  And if she doesn’t rub her thighs together in response.

  “You know it. I know it. And I can make it happen for you.”

  “Barrett.”

  I lean forward. “Let me make it dirty for you. Depraved even. Allow me to have my way with both sets of lips tonight.” I murmur the filthy words against her soft lips.

  “You’d do that? Out of the kindness of your heart?” She peers up at me, sliding a hand up my chest.

  Old habits kick in and I grab her wrist and fold her arm behind her back. "Kindness has nothing to do with it. Feral hunger for you? Absolutely."

  "Oh, God," her breath hitches.

  "Tell me, butterfly. Do you want me nearly as much as I want you?"

  She purrs like the good little kitten that she is.

  Fuck, I can't tell you how much I love having her trapped and needy like this. I'm sure she's had many other men since the last time we were together—I prefer to remain oblivious to the number—but I doubt any of them know her as well as I do. Charlotte needs to be dominated by a man willing to hold her down and unrepentantly drive her sinful body to the brink. She might be a boss lady—and God knows I love that part of her—but behind closed doors she needs surrender, itches for it, relishes it, craves it. I know. After all, I was the first to take her and dominate her. Only when she's flying that close to Nirvana can she come so fucking hard she fears she's going to blackout.

  "I-I do."

  "Who do you want, kitten?" I press.

  "You, Barrett."

  My cock throbs at her response.

  "Good girl."

  And just like that, my already insatiable desire for her flares up. The second I opened the door, I was rock hard. Now? Well, now, I need relief. Desperately.

  I lean into her and press a soft kiss to her mouth, lingering there, teasing, but not deepening the kiss. Not yet. I’m willing to ask before I take. She melts into my kiss, allowing my tongue to dance with hers. Her sweet taste floods me, and I know I’m trapped. But then again, so is she. I draw her into me by placing both hands against her ass. I press her body against me until her tits are caressing my chest and my hard cock is grinding against her stomach.

  “Oh, God,” she gasps at the contact.

  Fueled, my eager mouth captures hers in an urgent kiss.

  Fuck.

  It’s intense.

  Torrid.

  Feverish.

  It’s laced with raging lust.

  It’s us.

  CHAPTER 20

  Charlie

  Barrett pushes my li
ps apart and when I taste his tongue, my pussy clenches so hard I’m sure I’ll climax right here in his arms. The man kisses one way—with absolute unwavering fervor—and I match his passion tongue stroke for tongue stroke. He tastes like sin with a lingering hint of champagne. I drink it up like a woman who’s completely parched from months wandering lost in the desert.

  Fuck, yeah.

  Even in this whirlwind of near euphoria, my mind is telling me NO. That's the good angel talking. The reasonable one. The sensible friend. But there's another voice. A louder one. It belongs to the dark angel. The prurient one. She's the smutty one forcing my mind to shut the hell up, so that I can allow my body to enjoy this hedonistic ride. And right now, the dirty angel is winning wings-down.

  “Damn, I’ve missed your pretty mouth. You taste bloody amazing, Charlotte,” Barrett growls.

  His admittance is intoxicating.

  Even with this warm evening breeze, his masculine scent washes over me, and a thousand memories of our past kinky encounters flood through my brain like a film that’s being fast-forwarded.

  “Oh, God. So do you,” I mumble against his demanding mouth. And yes, I choose to ignore the slight weakness in my knees.

  I knew the second he brushed a strand of hair behind my ear that I was in trouble. By the time he was caressing my skin, I was burning up inside. The searing kiss sealed my fate.

  I know, I know I should listen to the alarm bell ringing in my head, but how can I when I’m pressed so close against him and feeling his massive erection rubbing against my stomach.

  He grabs my chin, forcing our eyes to lock onto each other. “Do you feel how fucking hard I am for you?” he grunts.

  That would be a hell yes. “I do.”

  His beautiful face is a raw mix of tenderness and filthiness, and under the chatoyant hues of the sunset, I remember why it's so bloody hard for me to resist him. From the first day I ever saw this man, his vivid emerald eyes have been my undoing. Most times, they’re intense. Right now, the shimmery glint sparkling from them is magnificent.

  “You’re sure?” He grinds his hard body against me with more determination.

  My heart is beating uncontrollably. I'm so bloody turned on that it feels like it skips a beat with every breath I take. A part of me wants to press my hand against Barrett’s chest and feel the beat of his own heart so that I know I'm not the only one who’s in this predicament, but I know that would only destroy me when he decides to push me away. After all, he did say, “One night.”

  This is hardly my first one-night stand. I prefer those. No strings attached. No commitments. No promises to break. No heartache. But it’s Barrett we’re talking about here. And I already know that I’ll leave a little piece of me behind.

  Tomorrow, there will be another mountain to climb, a challenge to conquer, an adversary to bring down, another milestone to knock off his list and he’ll shift his focus away from me.

  It's only for tonight. One night. That's it.

  His roaming hands put an end to my internal chitchat and just like that, it's about the moment.

  I'll deal with tomorrow when it comes.

  He lifts my dress up to my waist.

  “Ohhhh,” I hiss as the warm air of the night caresses my skin.

  He glides a hand down until he's squeezing my ass cheek.

  "You chose the G-string," he chuckles as he feels his way over my body. I nod. "Red?"

  Even with these skyscraper heels, Barrett towers over me. I rise up on the balls of my feet and nuzzle my face against his cheek, relishing the roughness of his 5 o’clock shadow. "Red would be too predictable," I whisper in his ear.

  "I guess it doesn't matter, because you won't have it on for much longer."

  I’ve been told.

  He pushes my underwear aside with one hand and travels to my pussy.

  “What’s that, kitten?” he asks, stroking my pussy hair. "That's new. You’re usually all smooth." I laugh. "Is that for me?" He doesn't allow me time to answer. "A little landing strip to guide my big fighter jet to its destination?" Yeah, that's a little cheesy, but you wouldn't believe how sexy that sounded. "Change is good," he grins. “I like it. In fact, I fucking love it. And you know why?"

  His green eyes are blazing and I really should know better, but despite it all, I bite. "Why?"

  "Because when I come, we’ll both be able to look at the fruit of my climax marking your sweet pussy." He says that in a matter-of-fact way.

  My already weak knees wobble as my pussy clenches uncontrollably.

  "Your mind is so perverted." That’s the best I can come up with.

  "You say that as if that didn't arouse you." I can't even argue with that.

  "You take credit for a lot considering I didn't even know I was going to bump into you." I feel the need to put up a good fight. After all, I’ve been growing this strip for a few months now and I got my wax job done before I left London.

  He chuckles.

  "Regardless. I’m taking ownership of that landing strip tonight and I intend on putting it to good use."

  Hallelujah.

  Without warning, his fingers continue their exploration.

  "Jesus Christ," I choke when he reaches my slick pussy.

  “Every time we reconnect, I'm reminded of how amazing your pussy is,” he says conversationally, as if his fingers aren’t probing my wetness. "It shouldn't be a surprise anymore, but I don't know if I'll ever get used to it."

  Barrett plunges one finger so deep inside me that I stop breathing for a second. He doesn’t allow me to think. Soon two more fingers penetrate me and now he has three long fingers fucking me. Yes. His masterful touch makes me lose my fucking mind. My body is overtaken by a tidal wave of sheer bliss.

  “I’m dying here,” I squirm.

  "I know.” He has no intention of showing any mercy. Lucky me. “Oh, look at that, you’re absolutely drenched. I’ve barely touched you and your juices are already traveling down your legs. You want this that much?"

  He asks a question he only already knows the answer to.

  I nod.

  "No," he shakes his head. "If you want me to make you come, you answer my questions with words. It's only been six months. I doubt you've forgotten how it works between us," he flashes me a stern stare.

  "God, yes."

  "Much better."

  With his eyes locked onto mine, he starts caressing my clit, skating over my hard nub over and over again.

  "Shit," I hiss.

  "What is it, kitten?" he asks as he pushes against my nub, trapping all the blood there. He doesn't soften his touch. On the contrary, he massages the spot, forcing a string of inaudible curses from me. The pressure has me teetering between pleasure and pain. Damn him for knowing my body so well. I resent the amusement dancing in his eyes.

  "Fuck you," I say between gritted teeth.

  “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Language, Charlotte," he scolds. "You know full well that I’ll be the one fucking you and not the other way around. But, congratulations, you've earned yourself a punishment for that response laced with effrontery."

  And if my body doesn't shiver with anticipation, sending sparks dancing all the way down to my clit.

  "Stop fighting this," he says.

  "You aren't playing fair," I protest.

  "Of course not. That's not my job as your lover.” Lover? Such a dangerous word. “Your pleasure is my only concern. And you know I'll make it really good for you." That he will. “Enjoy this and you’ll get more.”

  "What if I want more now?" I ask daringly.

  "Charlotte," he warns. He pinches my clit between two fingers and I nearly fold in half.

  “You win,” I say when I'm able to talk again.

  "I like it when we see eye to eye.” He preens over his victory.

  As my body relaxes, his probing fingers start to roam my pussy and I’m already pushing against his hand.

  My body lets out a low grunt.

  “That's it," he murmurs. "Now, show m
e how much you appreciate my hand against you."

  Unable to help myself, I start rocking against his finger. It’s slow at first, but in no time, I pick up the pace. I relish the all-consuming sensation, needing the release.

  "Good girl,” he encourages. His lips are a mere inch from my ear.

  "Oh, shit."

  My legs start trembling underneath me. I grip his shoulders to avoid falling to my knees because each time I gyrate my hips and my clit rubs against his finger, I lose a little bit of strength. He robs that from me, but I willingly surrender.

  "Don't worry. I've got you.” His free hand tightens around my waist holding me firmly in place. “Take your pleasure from me. Use me," he orders.

  My dress is bunched up at my waist. My ass is fully exposed. My panties are pushed to the side with my ex’s fingers teasing me mercilessly. I don't have to remind you that Barrett is fully clothed.

  I can just imagine the indecent scene.

  It's only then that I wonder if some of the other guests on his floor can see or hear us. The thought makes me even wetter. My hips rock back and forth, titillated by the fantasy that someone might be watching us.

  “Oh, yes,” I mewl like a needy little cat.

  “Is it good?” he asks.

  I rumble my approval.

  “Tell me, kitten.”

  “It’s mind-blowing.”

  “Mmm,” he hums, still fondling me as he grinds his impossibly hard cock against my hip. Fuck, I've missed his cock. "You're such a dirty slut."

  I moan for him.

  "Who’s dirty slut are you?" he asks in a commanding voice that fans the libertine in me.

  “Yours,” I pant.

  "That’s right. And don't ever forget it."

  "No."

  “Imagine it’s the fat head of my cock teasing you there instead.”

  "Oh, yes," I murmur.

  “We’d both look down as my leaking cock slides up and down your pussy, shamelessly taking advantage of your abundant wetness."

  "Jesus." I lull my head back, closing my eyes as I picture his big, long, thick and meaty cock playing with my throbbing clit and wet pussy.

  "A huge ten-inch veiny—and eager—cock with one purpose—to make you come.”

  “I want that,” I cry out.

  I’m turned on no end.