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Authors: Jennifer Probst

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BOOK: The Marriage Mistake
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“You don’t get to have a say in my life. No matter how far we go back!” She closed the distance between them. Fisting her hands in his T-shirt, she stood on tiptoes and snarled, “I deserve one night of great sex, Max. Would you deny me that? Would you deny what you give to yourself? I’m not a perfect china doll placed on a shelf to be played with in careful moments. I’m flesh and blood and I want messiness and passion and orgasms.”

Oh, yeah, he got it. His cock throbbed in time to her words. The scent of fresh rain, coconut and female swarmed his senses. Max fought the insanity of the moment but she battered him mercilessly.

“You scared the crap out of him, and he was afraid to touch me.”

“Then I was right. No man is worth your time if he can’t even stand up to someone who blocks what he wants.”

“Don’t you judge him, you arrogant ass. You’re his boss, and you made him believe I was some scared little virgin afraid of a little physical contact.”

She pushed at his chest. Temper wrapped around arousal and egged him on. “Isn’t that what you are? There’s nothing wrong with virginity. Do you want to give it away on the first man who tempts you?”

A low growl escaped her throat. “Yes! I’ve done plenty of things, Maximus Gray, things you wouldn’t believe. And I liked them, and I want more, and if I want to screw every cute man in the whole frikkin company you’re not going to stop me. You don’t have the right.”

The words hung thick and heavy in the air. A challenge. The alpha in him rose to the surface, where civility and politeness faded away. She vibrated with a fiery sexual tension that verged on explosive and damn her to hell and back, he was going to be the man to turn it.

He gave her one last chance as he clung to the edge of the cliff.

“Okay, so you’re a big girl who can make her own decisions. Fine. I’ll stay out of your life even if you are making a big mistake. Go home and grow up.”

He held his breath. Those dark eyes met his and some of his madness must have shown in his face. She eased back a precious inch and studied him.

Then smiled. “Go to hell, Max. I’m done with you.”

Satisfaction roared through him. He dropped from the edge and fell into the pit without a regret.

He grasped her around the waist and lifted her up high against his chest. Three steps and her back slammed against the door. His erection fit between the wet notch of her thighs and emitted a shocked gasp from those plump lips. Her pupils dilated.

“You asked for it, little girl. So you got it.”

He bent his head and took her mouth with his.

In some dim corner of his mind, he always imagined if he ever kissed Carina it would be more of a spiritual experience; an initiation into tenderness and the gentle slide of lip against lip. Instead, the reality ripped through him with a savageness he never believed possible. He was going to hell and it was worth every damn moment.

Her lips fit perfectly to his, supple and soft under the bruising heat of his mouth. He braced himself for a protest, and decided this was all about teaching her a lesson. But she gave a hungry little moan, sunk her fingers into his hair, and opened herself to him.

He surged. The taste of fruity pinot lingered on her tongue along with a honeyed sweetness that was part of her core. Max couldn’t be gentle if he tried. His head spun as he became drunk on her, diving in and out of that silky heat for more. This was no shy, uninitiated virgin he held. She blossomed beneath the hunger and demanded
her own as she clung and opened her mouth wider, her tongue meeting each of his thrusts and challenging him to go deeper. He pressed her hard against the door and she gasped, wrapping her thighs tight around his hips and squeezing. He groaned in agony, desperate for more, and ripped down the spaghetti straps holding her soaked dress up. One breast popped out from the wet fabric, glistening wetly, her nipple stiff and the color of rubies.

His palm cupped the heavy weight and his thumb tweaked the tip.

She exploded.

Her nails dug into his scalp and her teeth bit down on his lower lip. The sheer rawness of her arousal thickened his blood and with a curse, he dipped his head and took her nipple deep into his mouth. He sucked, his tongue swirling and giving pleasure while she emitted tiny mewls, arching up for more. A wild creature burning up in his arms, he held her tight while he licked and teased, until a forceful tug at his head brought him back up.

He studied her face in the light. Swollen lips let out breathy little gasps, her dark eyes filled with a seething passion that reflected his own expression. “More.” Her voice ripped out husky and broken. “I want more.”

The tension had been building between them for days. Max didn’t give a crap about honor or politeness or lessons. He dipped his head and dived again, their tongues battling for dominance. He thrust his erection fully between her
thighs, the thin fabric of their clothes only cranking the fire between them hotter. The other strap came loose and both her breasts were free for his fingers. He rolled her nipples and pinched them lightly. The smell of her musky arousal hit him like a wolf in heat.

One hand left her breast and grabbed the material of her skirt, bunching it up in his hands and hiking it high on her thigh. His fingers touched trembling, damp skin. Slid across a tiny scrap of lacy thong that barely covered her. Hooked under the elastic band. And dove in.

She cried out his name and a rush of liquid met his fingers. Tight and hot, her channel squeezed him and his head burst like fireworks, barely able to hold it together. She was all fire and light; pure passion throbbed from her center and drenched his hand. He swallowed her delicious gasps and knew in that moment he had to have her. Own. Possess. Claim.

For him.

The phone rang.

The insistent beep cut through the murky fog and penetrated his head. He ripped his lips from hers, breathing heavily in the sudden silence. Three rings. Four. Five.

The machine picked up. Michael’s voice boomed over the speakers. “It’s me. Just checking on how the party went—I know it’s late. Let me know how Carina did on her date. I’m sure yours hasn’t ended yet, my friend.
Ciao
.”

The click echoed.

Slowly, Max removed his fingers from underneath her panties. Smoothed down her dress. Without a word, he allowed her body to slide down the door until her bare feet hit the ground. She shivered but instead of taking her in his arms like he craved, he stepped back. Emotion clogged the back of his throat and took away any words of comfort or apology.

Dio,
what had he done?

•   •   •

Carina stared up at the man she’d loved her whole life and tried to fight the deep trembling in her bones. Her wet dress hung heavily on her body and wracked another shiver. Of course, she hadn’t felt cold before. First anger, then the most passionate kiss she’d ever had burned her body alive like a witch on a stake. The room tilted. She forced a deep breath through her nose and out her mouth, desperate to get her act together before him.

From the look of horror on his face, it seemed Maximus Gray had underestimated her. A sliver of satisfaction ran down her spine. He’d felt it, too. Would probably ignore it. But for the rest of her natural life she finally knew the truth.

Kissing Max was better than any fantasy she’d ever spun.

She pressed her fingers to her bruised lips. There was
more passion in that kiss than anything she’d experienced. He could have eaten her alive, and one more second of his fingers curving into her wet heat would’ve elicited an earth-shattering orgasm. If the phone hadn’t rung, she’d probably be convulsing on him right now.

Heat flooded her cheeks but Carina knew this was a turning point. A test. If she freaked out, ran away, there would never be another kiss. Somehow, a door had flung open within their relationship, and he didn’t know how to handle it. No way could he fake that type of attraction. Her gaze slid down to his erection. No way could he hide it, either.

She gambled and threw everything she had on the table. “Wow. Well, I guess that was overdue. At least we got it out of the way.”

His piercing blue eyes glinted with astonishment. He seemed to struggle for words. “What?”

Carina gave a little laugh and ducked her head in mock embarrassment. “Geez, Max, I mean, what did you expect? I was angry, pissed you off, and we’ve always had a connection. It was just natural to test it out once. Now we can move on. Right?”

Her heart beat in grief but her head knew she needed to follow the ruse to the bitter end. If he thought she believed the kiss meant something, he’d be out of her life faster than a magician pulled a rabbit from the hat. She couldn’t risk it. Not now.

Not when she realized she still wanted more.

His gaze shredded through her careful facade but she held firm. “This was my fault. I should have never pushed the issue. I’m sorry. I—I don’t know what happened.”

She waved a hand in the air though his words sliced like razors. “No need to apologize. We both needed to burn off some sexual tension. Let’s just forget it.”

“Is that what you want?” he asked softly.

Her smile glittered with brilliance. “Of course. Just let this be a lesson to stay out of my personal life from now on. No more threats or bullying my dates. Got it?” He flinched, but nodded. “Great, now I better get going.”

“No.” The word stopped her immediately. “I’m not letting you drive in this storm. You’ll stay here tonight.”

“I’ll be fine. The rain slowed and I’ll drive carefully.”

“No.” He repeated the command and shook his head as if throwing off the rest of the fog. “I have a ton of guest bedrooms. I’ll get you clothes. Go sit by the fire and I’ll be right back.”

“But—”

He disappeared down the hall. Carina shuddered and buried her face with her hands. No way could she stay here. All night? She’d break, tiptoe into his room, and seduce him. Especially now that she experienced a taste. His earthy, musky scent, the rough stubble scraping across the tender peak of her breast, the silky thrust of his tongue as he claimed her mouth, the flavorful sting of cognac.

She locked up the memory. She mustn’t make a mistake. Not until she was alone and able to assess the situation. Make a new plan. Right now, she needed him to feel as comfortable and unthreatened as possible.

Carina moved to the living room and sat on the thick cream carpet in front of the fire. Her flesh warmed from the heat of the flames, and she deliberately relaxed her muscles in an effort to slow down her heartbeat. Rocky slunk back into the living room and plopped down beside her. Murmuring soothing words of how beautiful he was, she stroked his damaged ear and sent him to doggy heaven when her fingers found his canine sweet spot.

Carina admitted she was quite jealous.

“Put these on.” Max thrust a large T-shirt, sweat socks, and a flannel robe at her. Rocky kicked out his legs and growled in protest. She laughed, scratched his belly one last time, and went to change.

Her gaze took in the elegant lines of his mansion. Like Michael, he’d earned a fortune building La Dolce Maggie, and his style proved both expensive and tasteful. The rooms screamed single male, from the spartan decor to the fully stocked bar and game room. The televisions were theater sized, and comfortable leather sofas and recliners, complete with beer cup holders, framed the action. One peek in his kitchen showed pristine ceramic tile, cherry cabinets, and sleek stainless steel appliances. Not a dish in the sink. Either he had a cook, a maid, or ate out every night.

She changed quickly and rejoined him in the living room, sitting in her previous spot. The wood crackled and she pulled her feet up, tucked the robe over her knees, and stared into the flames.

His gaze bore into her back but she remained silent, letting him speak first. Rocky padded over and with a doggy yawn, he rested his massive head in her lap.

“You were right.”

His words came out with a grudging respect. She tilted her head in question and faced him. “About what?”

Max sat in the leather chair with a snifter of cognac at his elbow. He studied her face as if probing for an answer. “About Laura. She hated Rocky.”

She hid a satisfied smirk. “Told you.”

“How did you know?”

“Saw her in the parking lot terrified of a stray dog. Her true personality emerged. She’s not used to children or dogs or a mess. She views only the surface so a dog like Rocky would’ve freaked her out.”

He let out a strangled laugh and took a sip of his cognac. “Yeah, you always did have a canny instinct with people. Remember Julietta’s friend in high school? You called her out immediately.”

The memory hit her and she smiled. “I’d forgotten about that. I knew she was only pretending to be Julietta’s friend to get close to Michael.”

“Michael was happy. She was hot.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. You thought any female who walked on two legs was hot. Discretion wasn’t one of your assets.”

“I disagree. Damn, Julietta was pissed off, though. Refused to let Michael date her as just punishment so they both suffered.”

Carina sighed and dropped her chin on her knees. “Julietta wasn’t used to people using her. I became so skilled, I learned how to spot deceit a mile away.”

“Who would want to lie to you?”

“Stupid boys. Every time a boy in school liked me and asked me out, I discovered he only wanted to get to Venezia or Julietta.” She forced a laugh but the memory still stung, to know how she was always ranked third best. To realize her personality was a big bore compared to quirkiness, sexiness, or razor-sharp intelligence. To be reminded time after time she couldn’t trust the simple question of a man asking her out, because she always suspected of being used. But no longer. She’d worked hard to build up her confidence and become the woman she always wanted to be. Carina shrugged it off. “Comes with the territory. Part of having two gorgeous older sisters, I guess.”

“Seems to me you’re a long way from that little girl who didn’t believe in herself.”

His comment startled her. She snuggled deeper into the comfy plaid robe. “I know. That’s why coming to America has been so important. It’s not just about working for La
Dolce Maggie—it’s about having the freedom to find out who I am.” The fire flickered and warmed her as well as the light in Max’s eyes. Like he understood. Like he’d been there. “If I tried to go in a new direction, my family was always there ready to yank me back from disaster. I wasn’t able to make my own mistakes. My dates were scrutinized, my studies were mandatory, and I think I lost my way. This is my opportunity to grow and experience the world on my terms. I wake up in my own apartment with no one to please but myself. I earn my own money, pay my own rent, and don’t apologize or have to make excuses.”

BOOK: The Marriage Mistake
2.26Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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