Accidentally Still Married (The Naked Truth Series Book 2)

Home > Other > Accidentally Still Married (The Naked Truth Series Book 2) > Page 2
Accidentally Still Married (The Naked Truth Series Book 2) Page 2

by Carmen Falcone


  She moved her head to the side and sighed, the relief of straying from his touch wrestling against the longing for it. Which was worse? “It was around the same time Nana was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s and I was overwhelmed. Plus… I didn’t have the heart to tell her I was divorcing so soon.” She had been scared to prove her parents right. They had shoved their flower-power lifestyle down her throat, and never bothered to hear her opinion. Hell, they had been wrong about so much, they couldn’t have been right about her marriage too. There’s no guarantee the marriage will work just because you’re pregnant. That man is just trying to do what society says is the right thing. You don’t even know him. Their plea rang in her ears.

  He shook his head. “Unless you’ve been using a life size mannequin of me, she knows that by now.”

  “I told her we were separating, but with her disease… she has good days and bad days. Most of the time, she doesn’t remember much.” Grace pushed out the words trapped in her throat. “I’m her only grandkid. No one has ever divorced in our family. I didn’t want to add to her stress after being diagnosed.”

  He gave her a once over, and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Interesting.”

  Interesting? Couldn’t he just say sorry for her grandmother? Her heart twisted. “It’s sad really, but what does that have to do with you being here?” she asked, and braced herself for the answer.

  Chapter Two

  Sebastian gripped the stem of the wine glass tighter than was strictly necessary. Hot strands of libido stirred inside of him. They’d been at it ever since he’d seen her photo. Grace King. Now he was taking care of the problem. Privately, like he’d promised his lawyer. Calling his business partner Bianca to arrange the private dinner at her residence had been the easy bit. Turning up and having Grace sit in front of him…that was less easy. “I’m here because I want you to sign the divorce papers. I know your business is going belly up, so I’m willing to give you some money.”

  She snapped her fingers. “Just like that?”

  “I want to be a free man.” Free from her. The pull he felt toward her was like a weighty stone tied to his feet as he drowned. Without that last tie to her, he would be able to reach out and float on the surface. And never, ever sink again.

  How easy it would be to sink though… Her black dress under her apron outlined her figure, still slim by any means, but a bit fuller than he remembered. Her breasts pointed out, high and perky. He shifted in his seat, willing away the sting narrowing his stomach. Her hair, several shades of blond, was all the way up in a bun, and he wondered if it was still long, down her back to her shoulder blades, like it used to be. He’d always enjoyed running his fingers through it to bring her closer. Or pulling it, while he had her in the middle of the bed, on all fours. The image stole the air from his lungs. When he lifted a glass of water to his lips, he found her looking his way. “What will it take for you to sign the papers you so desperately wanted me to sign two years ago?” he said, holding the glass close to his lips.

  She worried her bottom lip. “I-I need your expertise as a financial person.”

  He waved it off. The idea was laughable. He, help Grace? After all she had put him through? “Catering is not my field.”

  “Making money is. And I need to know what I’ve been doing wrong.”

  He bit back a smile. “The opportunity to point out what you’ve done wrong is tempting.”

  She upped an eyebrow. “Business-wise,” she retorted, with a steady voice.

  The glossy despair in her eyes, though, told him a different story. If she’d had a knack for business, she wouldn’t be in the position she was in. And money would be temporary relief, but what about later on? Since when do I care?

  He didn’t. “Of course,” he said. “That said, I live in Los Angeles now. Clearing my schedule to go through all your mistakes would take a few days. I’m ready to give you cash. If you’ll sign the papers, I’ll call my lawyer and speed up the process and we can move on straight away. That’s what I want. I won’t try and be coy.” He lifted a piece of bread to his mouth and chewed on it hard, then swallowed; the rich dough pulling through the suppressed emotions bundled in his throat.

  “You’re the opposite of coy.” She shifted in her seat, crossing and uncrossing her legs.

  He followed the soft bob of her throat, and realized her attention was focused on his lips. Did she remember? How the two of them tangled the sheets, their glistening bodies draped over each other? Light and dark.

  He curled his fingers into a hard fist, fighting the desire to reach out and fondle her. Why was he fighting it? Why couldn’t they, one last time—

  “Unless, of course, you care to make me an offer I can’t refuse.” The words left his mouth before he had enough time to think them through.

  “I doubt you want any of my skills bad enough to change your mind.” She surged to her feet.

  He pushed his chair back and stood up. Erasing the distance between them, he tipped up her chin. The intensity in her baby blues drilled into him, and a powerful libido stirred his groin. His pants tightened, and he ran a finger over her heart-shaped face. “You’d be wrong, Gracelynn. There’s a skill of yours I most definitely want,” he struggled to say, his voice dropping an octave. Shit. If he knew what was better for him, he wouldn’t kiss her. His gaze dropped to her lips, and she licked the corner of her mouth, the tip of her pink tongue slipping out. His heart skipped a beat, and before he could change his mind, he snatched her in his arms and covered her lips with his.

  She moaned, and he grazed his teeth over her upper lip. His entire body throbbed with need. He delved his tongue inside her wet, sweet mouth. His erection grew harder, and he clenched his hands around her waist, pulling her to him. She lifted her palms to his shoulders, and a shiver ran through him. He raised her shapely leg, which she hooked around his hips. That perfect mold slammed open a gate to what could happen. Hell, what was about to happen… There was no way he wouldn’t delve into her again. There was no way he wouldn’t taste her, and have her squirm under his touch. The impulsive resolve set a trail of electric currents shooting up his arm, and short-circuiting his entire system.

  He intensified the kiss, and she responded passionately, stroking her tongue over his. Aroused and careless, he caressed her neck and fondled her delicious breasts. He traced the shape of her breast over her apron, imprinted in his memory just as much as on the flimsy fabric.

  He scooped her off the floor in one fluid move, and besides a gasp of surprise, she went along. Positioning her on the table, he spread her legs apart and caressed the delectable sweep of her thighs. The sound of dishes and glasses falling to the floor didn’t faze him. They turned into white noise compared to the wild, unrestricted drumming of his heart. He’d missed Grace, more than he would ever care to admit. He cupped her sex, already warm and moist even through the fabric.

  More. He wanted more. Maybe swimming again in that well of desire was the only way he’d learn how to protect himself and learn to survive it. Walking away from the chance of making her his one last time… was no longer an option.

  Determined, he outlined the cotton of her underwear, using his index finger to trace along the hem. Hhhmm… She squirmed against him, arching her body toward him.

  All his nerve endings were about to burst. He reached for his belt, knowing if he wasn’t inside her soon enough, he, too, would—

  A harsh thump, and the piercing sound of a bottle slamming against the stone floor echoed in his ears. Her hands froze on him like two pieces of granite. It took him a second longer to inhale and withdraw himself from her. He let his arms fall off her and when he disentangled from her, a cold draft swirled around him.

  Clearing her throat, she got off the table and recomposed, smoothing her hands over her apron and dress.

  Luna, the lady who had opened the door for him, stood a few feet from them, with dark eyes widened and jaw dropped. Red wine splashed on the stone ground. “I’m sorry. I was bringing tha
t wine and you caught me off guard.”

  “I’m sorry, Luna. I’ll explain it later.” Grace twisted her hands together, her voice wavering.

  Luna chuckled. “Oh honey, no explanations needed. I’ll leave you two… alone.”

  A lovely shade of pink spread across Grace’s cheeks. “I’ll clean up everything.”

  “I’ll get my stuff from inside and find my way out.”

  Grace tucked a few strands of loose hair behind her ear. “Thanks, Luna. Talk to you later.”

  “Yes, there will be talking alright.” Luna winked at her, and sauntered into the kitchen again.

  Grace turned to him and rubbed her temples. “Oh my lord.”

  He stepped toward her. “Relax.”

  She took a step back, hands perched at her waist. “Relax? Okay, if you want to be in charge, you got it. You’re right. I need cash if I’m going to stay afloat. Pay my overdue bills and I’ll be happy to sign the papers.”

  Assessing her was a sure way to steal the air from his lungs. With her lips swollen and rosy, her bedroom eyes gleaming, she could have stepped right out of bed. His bed. His fingers tingled with the need to touch her, and he curled them into a ball. They were not done yet. “I will. And you’ve convinced me to help you with your business too.”

  She blinked. “Come again?”

  “I have to be back in L.A. for an important meeting on Monday. I’ll clear out my schedule the next few days, though, and go over your issues and help you. I’ll set you up with a meeting with Ross Stevens, for starters,” he said. Name-dropping wasn’t his thing, but he just knew the marketing guru would tip the scale in his favor.

  Her eyes widened. “The Ross Stevens?”

  He smile inside. Score. “Is there another one?”

  She shuffled her weight from one foot to another. “Wait… why would you do that?”

  Here it goes. “Because during the next few days, my luscious ex-wife to be, you will allow us a proper farewell from the only part that worked in our marriage.” He erased the distance between them, and outlined her jaw. She trembled under his touch, which cemented his resolve. They had parted too soon. Too early for the fire burning high between them to extinguish.

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “You wanna screw me?”

  Non-stop. “I almost did, over the table. That’s obvious, I’d say.”

  She shook her head. “You were blowing off some steam. It wasn’t planned or anything. We can’t, I can’t… ” She covered her mouth. “It’s crazy. Indecent.”

  The light blush claiming her cheeks almost made him kiss her. Again. “No need to react like a Southern belle, Grace. Some people throw parties when they get divorced. I say we should enjoy a very private one, before we part ways,” he said, struggling to finish, “forever.”

  “You aren’t going to help me if I don’t sleep with you?”

  He smiled. “I didn’t exactly say that. Let’s just say I need some… incentive.”

  She chewed on her bottom lip. “That’s not right.”

  What wasn’t right, he thought, had been the way she’d cut through his heart. The way she’d blamed him after her miscarriage, when he hadn’t done anything wrong. How she’d packed up and left as if his feelings didn’t matter. He hadn’t mattered. The words stuck in his throat. “I won’t make you do anything you aren’t comfortable with. I’m just being honest. The way you kissed me… you can honestly say you don’t want to finalize the dissolution of our physical connection before we dissolve our marriage once and for all?”

  “I…” She licked her lips. Her baby blues darkened to an intense cobalt. “Let me think about it.”

  “Call me in the morning.” He reached for his wallet and retrieved a business card. Was it wrong, to ask for sex in demand for professional guidance? No. He had given her everything once… he couldn’t do it again.

  ***

  “Did you call him?” Luna tossed her pink bag on one chair and plopped down on the other one next to it.

  Grace stared at her friend. Sucking in her breath, she glanced at the phone sitting on her desk. “Not yet.” Ever since she had stepped into her home office two hours ago, after tossing and turning all night, she had been playing with the idea. Why? Why would she call him?

  “I can’t just have sex with him after so long. And for the wrong reasons,” Grace thought out loud. She toyed with the heavy glass spoon that lay on the top of some folders.

  Luna’s chuckle cut through the tension. “Seriously? If Chocolate Channing Tatum asked me, I wouldn’t think twice. And judging by the way he was all over you before I walked in on you two last night, you wouldn’t either.”

  “Whatever, Luna. You never date.”

  “I have my reasons.” Luna shrugged. Reasons she never shared with her, but Grace gave her time and hoped one day she would. After all, wasn’t this strange? Luna was gorgeous… smooth olive skin, long wavy hair, awesome body. But, her infectious laugh and sense of humor could really get a guy’s attention. Could. If she let them come near her. “Trust me though, a man that sexy certainly would make me rethink them.”

  “Fine. So he’s hot.” Grace shrugged. “But he’s controlling and I would never want us to think it’s more than sex.”

  “Apparently, neither does he. Otherwise he wouldn’t have created this Mickey Mouse bargain.”

  Grace glanced through her tiny office, her gaze darting from the pale pink walls to the shelves filled with cooking books. A few dusty family pictures and the one award she won for a cooking contest as a teenager packed the tiny area over the small white armoire, piled with bills.

  “I’m scared of… getting attached again. I can’t do that.” I wouldn’t survive. She had mistrusted Aidan, and ended up tied to a radiator, crying, in a dark room. Somehow Sebastian had seemed different, and perhaps he had been. Not for long. Didn’t matter if his tactics were a lot smoother than Aidan’s.

  “Until last night, I had no idea you had been married. Time to spill. Stop dodging the issue like I’m a low-life reporter from a tabloid magazine and not your friend.”

  “We randomly met in a coffee shop. He was working his butt off back then. We had a lot of sex, and decided to get married on a whim. After all was said and done, I realized sex wasn’t enough.” She managed to sound casual. Left out a bit, didn’t you? Pregnancy, miscarriage? Tears prickled the corner of her eyes, but she blinked them back. If she told Luna about her miscarriage, she would have to open a messy can of worms. She’d done therapy for too long. She would never go back there. Ever.

  “So sex alone isn’t going to change your mind and make you want to get back with him?”

  “No. It can’t.”

  “Then just go with it for the next couple days. Take the cash, take the pleasure, move on. It’s not like you’ve been getting any,” Luna chortled.

  “I don’t know if I can separate the attraction from… the other stuff.”

  “If you could, would you?”

  Yes. Warmth filled her cheeks. Wouldn’t it be nice to get him out of her system? To abandon herself in his arms, recklessly, and give in to the suffocating pull? She brought her hands to her neck, and realized her pulse was going bonkers. Not even the distance had dampened the effect he had on her. Not even time.

  What if… She lifted the business card, caressing the thick paper between her fingers. Maybe straightforward sex would help demystify her past. She would move on, knowing for a fact she had risen to the challenge instead of hiding like a coward. Besides, sex hadn’t been enough to hold them together then, why would it be now? “Okay. I’ll make the call.”

  How bad could it be? She wouldn’t get things twisted this time. The man lived in LA., for God’s sake! She grabbed the cordless phone and dialed the number. “Privacy, please.” She winked at Luna, her hand covering the speaker.

  Luna gave her an eye roll and reluctantly left, closing the door behind her.

  Sebastian picked up after the third ring. Luna clenched the phone and
panic poured over her. A cold sweat slicked her forehead. Crap. I totally should have rehearsed this.

  “Hello.” His voice was like melted caramel. Delicious and addictive. Something she could ever have enough of—even if it was bad for her. Which is why you kept away.

  “Sebastian, I’ve been thinking about your… hhhmmm… proposal.”

  She could swear she heard an intake of breath from the other side of the line.

  “Go on,” he said, his voice commanding.

  “I’m in.”

  “Good.” He paused and she heard papers turning. “I’ve secured a meeting with Ross Stevens this afternoon. Four o’ clock.”

  “If I had said no, would you have canceled that meeting?”

  “I’m not that much of a jerk, Grace.” There was a light tone in his voice, which had the opposite effect on her. She shuffled in her chair so much that it swiveled against her consent. Her whole acceptance to having sex with him for a few days was based on the fact that, yes, he was a jerk. A jerk that was great in bed and would ensure she kept her business. The business was the only thing she had left.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Nothing.” She crossed and uncrossed her legs. “I mean…” She cleared her throat. “Listen, Sebastian. I haven’t been with anyone since we separated and last night was spontaneous and all…” What if it was super sterile or awkward? She touched her stomach, afraid she was going to part with her lunch. “I just don’t want it to be weird.”

  His chuckle reverberated through her. “I promise you, it won’t be weird.”

  “Okay,” she said. Although… since when did she believe his promises?

  Chapter Three

  Sebastian arrived at the meeting, walking into conference room at the same trendy hotel he was staying in. The Breitling on his wrist confirmed he was five minutes early. Anxiety roared inside him like the engine of a Lamborghini.

 

‹ Prev