Read Man Seeks Woman 2, Man Seeks Wife Online

Authors: Stephanie Franklin

Tags: #romance, #erotica, #love, #sex, #sexy, #story, #book, #coffee, #bbw, #sensual, #cunnilingus, #evocative, #victoria, #provocative, #seductive, #mouth, #lips, #custard, #sebastian, #food play, #falacio

Man Seeks Woman 2, Man Seeks Wife (9 page)

BOOK: Man Seeks Woman 2, Man Seeks Wife
13.82Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Ralph quickly
pulled the car over, bumping it up onto the curb and flicked the
ignition off before turning in his seat to actually view Sebastian
for the first time in a long time, man to man.

“What?”
Sebastian fidgeted uncomfortably, feeling like a small child having
been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Damn you,
Sebastian.” Ralph shook his head in exasperation. “Why did you not
tell her this? Why did you let her walk out? Why has it taken you
six months, six months of grumbling and moaning and showing off
before you’ve done this?”

Sebastian
shrugged and finished off the last of his drink. He sat the glass
aside in one of the cup holders and licked his lips. “Well, I would
have told her exactly how I felt but the bitch did it to me
again.”

Ralph frowned.
“What do you mean did it to you again?”

He waved a
hand around the confined space. “You know me, Ralph I’m not very
good with words and the only way I know how to express myself is
with what every woman wants and that’s what I’ve got between my
legs. “ he rubbed his suddenly sweaty palms up and down his legs,
feeling the tenseness underneath them. “So we got intimate, we got
hot, we got so fucking hot that I thought I’d blow before I even
got inside her. Then just as we were about to have a serious make
up sex session, she did to me exactly what I effectively done to
her.” he shook his head with disbelief yet felt like Victoria’s
actions were warranted somehow. “She slammed on her brakes, turned
around and walked out the door leaving me standing there with my
trousers around my ankles and a hard on I could have poked
someone’s eye out with.”

Ralph was
quiet for a long time; the only sound in the vicinity of the car
was their breathing. Finally the big man spoke. “You deserved it;
can you really blame her, Sebastian? I’m the one who took her home
that day, remember? And I know that not only did you allow the best
thing that ever happened to you to walk away, you broke her heart
as well.” He sighed and looked Sebastian straight in the eye. “Now
you know what it feels like to be the fucking punch line.”

Sebastian
sucked in a breath and let that final sentence rattle around in his
mind. Ralph was one of the selected few men in his life who could
get away with talking to him like that and telling him the way of
the world without Sebastian taking insult to it. Many others
wouldn’t dare, not if they knew what was good for them...and their
business.

Thoughts,
images, and words zipped through his head, over and over again.
Victoria stained thoughts, images and words.

Realisation
was a bitch.

It slammed
into him so hard, it took his breath away. His eyes closed as his
head dropped back against the headrest, his heart beating heavily
with the realisation that he’d hurt the best thing in his life and
for what?

For absolutely
nothing, not really.

He could blame
Naomi, he could blame Jacob and he could blame anybody he wanted,
really. In reality, at the end of the day when all the dust
settled, there was only one person to blame here and that was
Sebastian.

“So, Ralph.”
Sebastian asked feeling utterly defeated. “What do I do?”

Another pride
nosedive.

“What do you
mean?” Ralph asked, sounding confused.

“How do I show
her that I’m not the man she thinks I am? How do I get her to
believe me without sticking my foot right into the pile of shit
I’ve built?”

Ralph seemed
to think this over, his eyes becoming unfocused for a short time
before focusing back on Sebastian. “Time alone,” He said
eventually, his mouth twisting to the side. “It needs to be just
the two of you without any interference, and no interruptions.
Neither of you need me nor Rosa in the way. Again, I reiterate, it
needs to be you and Victoria. You need to show her that the only
thing that matters in this world is her.”

“What every
woman wants, huh?” Sebastian joked, trying to remove the burning
feeling in the middle of his chest.

“There you go
again with that cocky arrogant attitude. This isn’t a joke and nor
is Victoria. If you carry on like this, then you don’t deserve
anything or her at all.”

Again, Ralph’s
words were like mini tornadoes spinning and creating carnage in his
head. Thoughts and feelings that he would never have associated
with were coming to the surface, showing themselves all because he
was too stupid and too conceited to see the truth.

The truth was
that Victoria was away from him and was aiming to stay like that,
all because of himself, all because of his behaviour. He was
practically his own ticking time bomb and his own worst enemy.

“So what
you’re saying is that I’ve got to forget who Sebastian is in the
sense of the businessman he is and strip down to the real me that
came before all the money, before all the everything and show her
who I really am?”

That sounded a
lot easier than could possibly be.

Ralph shook
his head, his eyes rolling slightly in what was probably annoyance.
“No, you’ve just got to do one single thing.”

Sebastian’s
brows pulled together. He really wasn’t getting this female to male
stuff. “What’s that?”

“Just be
you.”

Chapter
Eight

Where are your
clothes?

I raised the
bottle in my hand and squinted through my glazed eyes at the amount
of drink left. I was sure I was seeing only a quarter in the bottom
of the bottle. Wasn’t there a whole bottle a minute ago?

I shrugged,
slugging more of the vile watermelon flavoured vodka back. It
dribbled from my mouth and dripped off my chin. “What does it
matter anyhow?” I slurred.

“Wait.” I
screeched, taking the bottle from my lips with a slosh. “I didn’t
toast myself.”

Raising the
bottle again, I held it up high as I stood up; wobbling on the
spot, glaring at the bright light fixture above me that was shining
directly into my eyes. Did the thing have to be so bright? “To me,”
I boomed. “The most unluckiest and pathetic person known to man,” I
shouted loud and freaking proud. “I have no money, no job, no man,
no hole filler, no batteries for my vibrator that I know is on its
last legs anyway and now,” I whimpered sadly like a beaten animal
as my chin dropped to my chest. “No home.”

That was
right; I had or was going to have no home. Going by what the letter
said in the big white envelope with the blood red Court stamp on
the front of it, that I was to lose the home that I’d called a shit
hole for as long as I could remember, in twenty eight days.

Yep, twenty
eight days I had before the men in whatever coloured coats were
coming to move me on. To where, I had no fucking clue.

It was
stinking Christmas and God, I hated Christmas with a vengeance
anyway and now, I hated it even more because I was going to be
homeless. Just bloody great!

“Well, things
couldn’t get any worse; let’s just hope they got better.” I
muttered as I bought the vodka back to my lips and sucked another
mouthful down.

I gasped and
wanted to spit the shit out but that would be wasteful and I
certainly wasn’t that and it was vodka at the end of the day, just
a really cheap and nasty type of vodka.

A burp came up
and burned like a bitch because I’d eaten almost a full tub of
toffee fudge ice cream and three bars of fruit and nut and drunk
nearly a litre of that tasteless shit. I rubbed at my chest,
feeling the sickness beginning to take effect. Really this was good
in a way because it meant that I might actually pass out then wake
up to this day being a nightmare.

Somewhere in
my mind though through the fog of shit and haziness, something was
telling me no, this was no nightmare, it was real life.

Real life
sucked.

I slumped back
down onto my threadbare sofa, feeling the springs protesting
underneath my arse and whimpered again, wanting to cry but feeling
no tears coming on. If I cried, maybe I would feel better?

Nah, I never
felt anything but nasty after a good cry.

Maybe I was
deformed or something? I’d read in a magazine somewhere that for a
woman to cry daily or weekly or something or another was good for
the soul and mind. Well, I guess mine was blackened or missing or
whatever because me and crying just didn’t add up well up until
recently due to a certain person.

“Oh hell,” I
muttered as my head dropped back against the thin cushion under my
neck. Just the thought of Sebastian had my womb beginning to heat,
my stomach quivering from remembrance of his touch and my clit
starting to throb in time with my heartbeat that was now, building
up its rhythm.

What if I
touched myself? What if I dug through my remotes and nicked the
double A batteries for my last legs vibrator and had me a good
time?

But then come
to think about it, the only reason why my vibrator that I’d paid an
extortionate amount of money for four months ago was just barely
buzzing and moving was because every time I’d used it, only one man
came to mind and for some fucking reason, I just couldn’t get that
edge that I knew that particular man could get me to, myself.

“Sebastian,
Sebastian, Sebastian.” I whispered in the quietness of my living
room, frightened that saying it out loud would make him appear in
front of me, therefore enabling me to beg him like a wanton to take
his trousers off and unleash that big piece of meat between his
legs and stab me with it until I couldn’t speak, couldn’t walk and
couldn’t think about anything else but blackness.

God, that
sounded so freaking good.

My thoughts
went back to work earlier when we’d had our little thing. The
renewed picture of Sebastian’s cock invaded my mind. The picture I
visualised was it bobbing between his legs, heavy and ready for
me.
I bit my bottom lip as I squirmed on the sofa, my bare
centre rubbing against the insides of my trousers. The seam of my
grey bottoms sliding against my now throbbing clit had my eyes
drifting closed and more images of Sebastian’s hands rubbing up and
down his length, smearing his sap around the head then using it as
lube to grease his stiffness.

Knock,
knock.

It took a
minute to understand what I’d just heard, for the sound to
penetrate my dazed and sex starved brain. Someone was knocking at
my door. Whoever the hell it was could just go and buzz off. I
wanted to be alone in my pity party. Well unless whoever it was had
more drink that tasted better than watermelon, I might think about
letting them in. Oh and a nice big cock that resembled a certain
man’s.

Whoever said
that watermelon belonged with vodka was cuckoo.

Knock,
knock.

The intense
sound came again, interrupting my little arguments I was having
with myself. “For God’s sake,” With a growl, I pushed up from the
sofa and tripped over the end of my piece of shit coffee table and
went flying. Who the hell put that there?

My hands came
out to save me and hit the doorframe. I held on for dear life as I
teetered back and fourth due to the obscene amount of alcohol in my
system. A giggle escaped me as I thrust one leg forward in an
attempt to steady myself and move to the door that whoever was on
the other side of, knocked again.

“Alright,” I
grumbled. “God damn it, hold your freaking horses.” Woman had to
move.

Blinking past
the fogginess in my eyes, I instructed my body to move in the
direction of the door.

Slowly but
surely, I got there...eventually and leaned against the cold wood.
I pressed my hands flat against the painted surface and squinted
one eye closed to see through the peep hole. I blinked when my eyes
refused to focus.

I’m sure I was
seeing a man but I couldn’t be too sure. The darkness surrounding
him wasn’t helping me but then neither was the cheap alcohol
either.

“Who is it?” I
shouted or did I slur?

A muffled
response came as the person knocked on the door again.

I clucked my
tongue and pulled the chain back then unclipped the catch. I was
surprised I could do that so quickly. Smiling to myself, I pulled
the door open and stuck my head around the thickness of the wood
and froze. I don’t even think I blinked.

Hot damn!

“Hello,
Victoria.”

That was
Sebastian? The hotness in front of me was Sebastian?

“Where are
your clothes?” I asked stupidly as my gaze ate him up because he
looked fucking delicious even with my drunk filled eyesight.

Sebastian
chuckled, seemingly nervously and shuffled on the spot. “I’m
wearing them.”

Oh no he
freaking wasn’t.

This was a
different Sebastian. Gone was the pressed to hell shirts and the
expensive suits with Italian leather shoes. No, this male in front
of me wore a black leather jacket that I knew was real even just
looking at it, a v neck black cashmere jumper that moulded to his
chest like a second skin, a pair of dark blue twisted jeans that
made me bite my lip over because they looked fucking delicious as
fuck and a pair of ruffed and ready black boots that seemed to have
seen better days or perhaps they were supposed to look like
that.

“Finished?” he
asked, smirking.

I licked my
suddenly dry lips. “Huh?”

He moved
towards the door, his hand pushing it open as he stepped inside,
stepping inside my space. My eyes closed and may have rolled to the
back of my head when I got a whiff of his aftershave, mixed with
the leather of his jacket. This was different to what he normally
wore. The stuff I associated with Sebastian was woody and fresh;
this smell was irresistible and manly and made me want to jump his
bones right here, right now.

His smell, his
look, his everything right now made the old jogging bottoms I wore
stick to my pussy lips and the insides of my thighs as more
cream—Sebastian induced cream leaked out from within me.

BOOK: Man Seeks Woman 2, Man Seeks Wife
13.82Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Bee Hut by Dorothy Porter
The Lost Child by Ann Troup
The Pearl Necklace by O'Hara, Geraldine
The Soul Mirror by Carol Berg
Triple Exposure by Colleen Thompson
Euphoria Lane by McCright, Tina Swayzee
All Stories Are Love Stories by Elizabeth Percer