You're All I Think About_Second Chance Romance

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You're All I Think About_Second Chance Romance Page 31

by Scarlett Avery


  “I love my job, but I also love my life. I will do no such thing. FYI, your man was trained as a lethal weapon. Now that I've found an incredible guy,” Terry says before exchanging goo-goo eyes with Derek. Puh-lease. “I have no intention on dying. I'm way too young. And too fabulous.”

  I roll my eyes. “Thanks for that, Mr. Fabulous. Just tell King Barrett that I'll be too busy to talk to him for the next century. That should do the trick."

  “I've tried something along those lines, and that only fuels him. You should know your man is pigheaded."

  "Stop calling him my man. He's not!" I shout.

  Derek’s eyes widen in surprise. "Maybe I should get back to the hospital," he says, getting off of Terry's desk. "Charlie, always a pleasure," he says before turning his attention to his boyfriend. "I’ll text you later."

  "No, wait,” Terry says.

  "I think you have a few things to sort out with your boss. I'll be in touch."

  With that, the sexy doctor rushes out of my office.

  "What’s gotten into you?" Terry asks.

  "Nothing."

  "Well, nothing just scared off my boyfriend."

  "These are office hours, not social hours. Perhaps you should keep that in mind," I snap. "I'm heading to my office to work, and I expect you to do the same," I say before turning around.

  "Yes, ma'am," Terry throws over my shoulder.

  By the time I reach my office, I'm shaking.

  I'm angry with Barrett and I’m ticked off at myself for taking it out on Terry. With an exasperated sigh, I drop my handbag on the large chair in the corner of my office and walk to my desk. I plop myself on my chair, turn my iMac computer on and open my email account. I give it a valiant effort, but after twenty minutes, I come to the conclusion that I'm just wasting my time.

  “I need to do something that doesn't involve this many brain cells,” I grumble.

  I reach out for my office phone and dial through to Terry.

  “What’s up?” he asks picking-up.

  "I’ll be in the conference room if you need me."

  "Do you have a meeting?" he asks.

  "No. I'm going to drag today's tabloid papers there and flip through each one of them to make sure Jason hasn’t put his foot in his mouth."

  "I've already done that and I didn’t find anything. Had there been any cause for concern, I would've flagged it a long time ago."

  "I’ll take another quick look."

  "You don't trust me?" Terry asks.

  "It’s not that."

  "Then what is it, Charlie? You’re acting really strangely today."

  I allow a few long seconds to trickle by before I speak. "I can't think about him, Terry. It hurts too much. My attempt at work has been an abject failure, so I need to move on to Plan B. I doubt I'll be able to read a word and I'm fairly certain all the photos will be fuzzy, but I need something to distract myself. Answering his voicemail and his phone calls isn't an option," I admit. “A change of scenery might do me good.”

  "I'm so sorry, Charlie. You should’ve said something from the beginning."

  "I'm tired of Barrett consuming every aspect of my life. The less I talk about him, the less importance I give him."

  "Copy that! Would you like me to get you a latte from Kaffeine? That always cheers you up.”

  "That's sweet, Terry. You don't have to," I tell him.

  "What if I was fetching one for myself and I decided to treat my boss?"

  I laugh. "In that case, I graciously accept."

  "I'll be back in fifteen."

  "Okay."

  I hang up with Terry and stand up. I place my iPhone on top of a stack of newspapers sitting on the corner of my desk, scoop up the pile in my arms and head towards the door. I trail down the corridor until I hit the conference room and push the glass door open with my butt. I consider closing the door, but I figure Terry will have his hands full when he gets back. I make my way to the long wooden conference table and drop my reading material on it.

  "All right, let's see how long I can keep this up," I say, taking a seat.

  Even though the papers are peppered with sensationalist news, it still doesn't prevent my mind from wandering. After a few minutes, I realize this isn’t working.

  "I need to pull out the big guns. Music!" I get up and walk to the entertainment unit, slide the door open and turn the theater system on. I walk back to my iPhone, select a playlist on my iTunes account and sit back down. The sounds of a chillout mix fill the conference room. It helps. A little. I even tap my foot to the beat. As I hum along, I resume my mission. My phone chimes and I grab it to check the incoming message. It’s from Terry.

  I think dessert is in order. Sugar chases the blues away. I’ll grab us a few of those giant white chocolate and bitter orange cookies from Chunky Heaven before heading to Kaffeine.

  -----

  You’re the best. I can't wait. See you soon.

  -----

  I drop my phone back on the table and resume flipping the pages.

  When the song changes to Claes Rosen’s Remix of Marvin Gaye’s ‘If This World Were Mine’, I can’t help but sing along.

  “Interesting lyrics.”

  My eyes snap up to the deep voice that just spoke.

  No way.

  “What are you doing here?” I demand.

  Barrett strides inside the conference room uninvited. “If this world were fucking mine, Charlotte, you’d answer your bloody phone and you’d have the courtesy to respond to my text messages. Don’t get me started on your gatekeeper. That’s what I’m doing here.”

  I jump to my feet and round the conference table. “Well, you can go back to where you came from. Luckily, this world isn’t fucking yours,” I toss in his face, impressed at how steady I am on my high heels considering how wobbly my knees feel.

  "We need to talk," he says.

  I take a few long steps until I’m standing right in front of him. I tilt my head back so our eyes meet. His gaze is so intense it’s unsettling. I avert my gaze, only to settle it on his impeccably well-cut navy blue suit. Focus. "For the last two weeks, you didn't deem it important enough for us to communicate other than for a word here and there. All of a sudden you expect me to drop everything to listen to you because you now have the urge to talk? In your dreams, mate. I have bigger fish to fry."

  "Charlotte." His voice carries a warning.

  "Don't Charlotte me. If you’re here to bother me, you can walk out that door right now. That’s all you’re good at anyways.”

  “Bother you? You didn’t seem all that bothered when we were in Athens. Well, I guess, it was more like you were hot and bothered.”

  “Get the fuck out, Barrett!" I point to the door.

  "I'm going nowhere." His stubborn glare is unquestionable. Too bad for him I’m in no mood to play his stupid games.

  "Barrett, if I have to push you out of my office, I will."

  Okay, so I’m no match to his rock hard muscled body, but a girl has to stand her own ground.

  "Now that, I have to see."

  "You mean nothing to me!" I shout. Where the hell did that come from? I didn't expect to blurt that out, but I quickly do damage control. "Get out!” I repeat.

  His trademark smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth. It’s the one that lets you know that no matter what you say or do, he’ll always have the upper hand. I don't care.

  "You think I can’t do it?" I challenge.

  "Of course you can. Go for it." He narrows his gorgeous green eyes at me.

  Rage builds in my belly. "You’re infuriating."

  "And you’re as beautiful as always… especially when you're pissed off at me."

  What?

  I didn't expect him to retaliate with that.

  "Flattery will get you nowhere, mate."

  “Stop fooling yourself, kitten—”

  "My name is Charlotte!"

  "I'm sorry. I forgot you prefer I not call you kitten unless I’m balls deep inside your
warm pussy.”

  He laughs.

  He fucking laughs.

  I lift my hand to slap him. “You ass—”

  “That’s not a good idea," he grunts. My hand never reaches his cheek. He holds my arm hostage and tightens his grip just enough to apply pressure.

  "Let go."

  "In your dreams," he borrows my words. He pulls me forward until my body slams against his. Oh, no. His expensive cologne permeates around me. Bollocks. I block out his seductive musky scent under the layers of alpha deliciousness. My God, I forgot how intoxicating he is. "If I meant nothing to you, you wouldn't be wearing the dress and shoes I bought you in Greece.” I’m so busted. His eyes travel from my heels to my ears. "If memory serves me correctly, I gave you those pear-shaped white and pink diamond earrings for your twenty-second birthday."

  Blimey! He remembers.

  I selected a beautiful feminine sleeveless pink dress and a pair of snakeskin Christian Louboutin high heels I brought back with me from Athens.

  So yes, I'm dressed from head to toe courtesy of Mr. Ascott.

  In my defense, I didn't expect to see him.

  "Should I assume the lingerie you’re wearing under this dress—that suits you perfectly, by the way—is a combo I bought?"

  "It doesn't mean squat," I throw at him.

  If I could spit fire, I would. I hate it when he’s right.

  "I beg to differ."

  "Why don't you leave me alone? Just go back to the pussy you’ve been fucking.”

  "I'm standing in front of her, but something happened since the last time she came her head off over my cock because my butterfly has transformed into a rebellious hellion.”

  “That’s bullshit,” I say, lifting my chin defiantly.

  "Which part?" he challenges.

  "Sod off."

  "Is that your way of telling me that you miss our regular fucks?"

  His words are so laced with impudence I don't know how to respond.

  "No, that's my way of telling you to get out of my life and stay out.”

  "You're such a bad liar."

  "Why don’t you go bother one of your other sluts?"

  A muscle in his jaw flexes as his nostrils flare. “Are you accusing me of something?" I open my mouth to respond, but he doesn't let me. "The only crime I can be accused of is allowing Archer and Cormac to fuck with my head, which caused me not to contact you earlier."

  His confession leaves me jaw-dropped.

  I know I shouldn’t care. I know I shouldn’t ask the question, but that doesn’t stop the words from flying out of my mouth. "You haven’t been distant because of another woman?" The insecurity in my voice makes me cringe.

  "Silly butterfly. Is that what you think?”

  “I—” I was going to say something flippant, but I can’t. I’m too shaken, anticipating his answer. “Well, yes.”

  “It was about dirty family laundry. What’s new?” He smiles as he caresses my cheek with the back of his hand. “You know I’d never do that to you, Charlotte." The words come out so softly. “I know you’re no longer my— ” He pauses and pitches his lips as if frustrated before he speaks again. "This may be casual, but I'm not an asshole."

  A stab of guilt shoots through me and I clear my throat. "Oh."

  “I wasted precious time ruminating over shit instead of reminding you who you belong to. That’s why you haven’t heard from me.”

  “Oh,” I repeat.

  My gaze darts up to his dazzling green eyes as he towers over me. Mirth flashes in them. What now? "Do you know what happens to a bloke who's gone two weeks without and then he finds himself pressed against his hotter-than-hell ex?"

  Unwillingly, I laugh at the reference to Athens.

  I shake my head. "No, I don't."

  “Neither do I. We wrote such a naughty story in Athens, I think we should write an even dirtier one right here in London… if you’re up for it,” he tempts.

  I roll my eyes. “Really?”

  Okay, it’s not a marriage proposal—not that I’m expecting one—but I can deny it as much as I want, I love knowing there’s no one else in his life right now.

  “Absolutely. I even suggest we start immediately. Why waste any time?”

  “Here? In my office!?” I shriek.

  “It wouldn’t be the first time.” He flashes me a complicit grin.

  “No, it wouldn’t.” I smile back.

  “Perhaps you need a little incentive. A reminder.”

  “Do I?”

  His lips curve up into the kind of smile that makes me want to drop to my knees and worship him. “Definitely.”

  Barrett tilts his hips forward and starts grinding his hard cock against my tummy.

  “Christ,” I purr.

  “Fuck, kitten.”

  "I’m back!” Terry shouts from the corridor.

  Shit.

  "Charl—” Terry's eyes bounce from mine to Barrett’s. He does that a few times before dropping his gaze to the tray he’s holding. "Clearly, coffee and cookies can wait."

  “Why don't you take the rest of the afternoon off? Your boss will be tied down for the next couple of hours. Possibly longer.”

  That last sentence sends adrenaline coursing through my veins. Can you believe his gaze never leaves mine as he speaks those words?

  “If it’s okay with Charlie,” Terry says.

  I nod at him and smile. “I think Derek might enjoy the coffee and cookies.”

  “Of course.” Terry seems to be in a daze.

  Barrett narrows his gaze. “Ah, Derek, the new beau.” Terry swallows hard. “You seemed to be plagued with a certain concern earlier. Allow me to enlighten you. King Barrett has missed Miss Wentworth tremendously. He’s here to show her just how much.”

  My eyes widen and when I shift my gaze to Terry he looks terrified.

  “You-you know?” he asks with a shaky voice.

  “Yeah, you blurted it out to Derek earlier before you hung up with me. And to answer your question. No, I don't think you’re my fucking lackey, Mr. Fabulous—”

  "God, you heard that as well?" Terry is suddenly so pale.

  Barrett nods. "It’s as if I was in the room," he grins. "I'm sure I don't have to remind you that I'm a very persistent man." Terry shakes his head vehemently. “That’s why King Barrett kept calling.”

  “I’m so sorry. Please don’t hurt me,” Terry mumbles.

  “I won’t touch a hair on your head, Mr. Fabulous, if you get out now,” Barrett says.

  I bite off a smile.

  "Yes, sir. Absolutely. No problem. Consider it done. I’ll be on my way and I'll even lock the entrance door behind me."

  "Thanks, mate," Barrett says.

  With that, Terry disappears with a swift nod and a stiff smile, clicking the conference room door shut behind him. The sound echoes around me like a shot of adrenaline straight to my clit.

  "How dare you give orders to my employee?"

  "He's a big boy. He knew exactly what was going on the second he stepped into this room." Barrett’s lips twitch into that confident grin.

  "Fuck you." I’m not willing to admit defeat so easily.

  "That dirty mouth of yours, kitten."

  I don't even have time to blink than his lips are crushing mine in a blazing kiss.

  God, I’ve missed his gorgeous mouth so much.

  CHAPTER 42

  Barrett

  After yesterday’s lunch with my best friend at La Trompette, we decided to move the celebrations to a place where we could kick back and relax. That's how we ended up drinking far too many martinis at the Coburg located inside the Connaught hotel. Even though it was supposed to be a relaxed afternoon, Tyler refused to budge. By the end of it, I had to concede that I was allowing my jealousy to color my lenses. I know it's ridiculous, but my resentment of those photos got the better of me. When Charlotte walked out on me six month ago, I expected her to find solace in another man’s bed. After all, I'm the one who drove her away. I just n
ever expected her past to slap me across the face like this.

  Despite the overflow of martinis and contrary to the last two weeks, I woke up this morning in fine form, determined to reach out to the woman I can't seem to be without. When she ignored me during the #NatBar days, I respected that. It was best that I kept my distance. Her safety came first. But today, each time she refused to respond to one of my text messages or voicemails only fueled my determination to hear her voice and see her again. Exasperated by the cat and mouse game, I got behind the wheel of my silver Alfa Romeo 4C Spider convertible and drove here like my ass was on fire. That would also explain why I'm standing here with her in my arms kissing her like my life depended on it.

  “Do you still want me to get the hell out?" I ask pulling myself away from her.

  "Don't you dare go anywhere," she says.

  I chuckle. "Is that your way of saying you missed me?"

  "I don't have to answer that," she quips.

  "I think it’s only fair I return the question."

  "What question?" she asks, confused.

  "Has there been anyone else since you got back to London?"

  "No," she says softly. There's no edge and no defiance to that one word.

  "You were waiting for me?"

  “Bloody arrogant asshole.”

  "Tsk. That mouth… those are bad words, kitten."

  "You asked for it," she volleys.

  "I’d much prefer hearing my name on your lips as you tip over the edge. Do you know how many times I’ve wanked hearing you scream out, ‘Oh, Barrett’? Do you have any idea how hard I came because of those two words?”

  "Oh, God."

  "Have you thought of me when you were pleasuring yourself?" I ask.

  "I've been busy," she says.

  I cock an eyebrow. "Too busy?"

  She offers a one-shoulder shrug.

  "No blokes and no finger action. Any toys?"

  "As I said, I've been busy."

  I can't help it as a huge grin breaks across my face.

  “You were definitely waiting for me." She doesn't respond. She averts her gaze. I won't allow it. I place two fingers under her chin and force her eyes back on me. "Don't be shy in admitting it. You know how well I take care of you, kitten. I’m the only man who knows your body as well as I do. I'm the only one who knows what you want. What you need." I pause. Is that a little presumptuous? Perhaps, but I'm dead certain no one worships her body like I do. "My poor kitten, after two weeks, you must be begging for it. If I was to lift your skirt, what would I find?"

 

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