You're All I Think About_Second Chance Romance

by Scarlett Avery

Yeah, I'm one to talk.

  I have no right to be this smug.

  I may sound holier than thou, but I took care of business. I came my head off thanks to the bidet’s strong water jet shooting up against my needy clit.

  “When it comes to you, Charlotte. Always,” he smiles wide.

  Simmering heat spreads from my face to my core at lightning speed. I'm sure he notices because he treats me to one of his panty-melting smiles—the one he knows full well has an effect on me—and another wave of traitorous desire washes over me. It's almost as if a million little butterflies are swirling in my stomach. God.

  The only thing I can come up with is, “You’re going to make me blush.”

  "We’re well past that,” he quips. So much for playing it cool. “All that to say, the dress looks incredible. I knew it would, but seeing it on you…" He lets his words hang. "I'm honored you decided to wear it."

  "Thank you." I pause for a beat. “I didn’t say it yesterday—I guess I was a little overwhelmed by your gesture—but thank you for all the beautiful clothing and accessories.” And lingerie. “I really like this dress," I say, looking down at it.

  "I really like it on you." He takes several steps forward until he's standing right in front of me. We’re not touching, but we’re really close. "Who am I fooling? I fucking love it on you.” Duly noted. “It’s the same for the bracelet I gave you. It fills me with pride to know you still cherish it."

  I bloody love every piece of jewelry he’s ever given me—and he’s been very generous. Even if we’re no longer together, I can’t bring myself to hide them in a safe. They’re too beautiful and precious for that. Not to mention that other than Barrett I’ve never been with anyone serious enough to object to me wearing another man’s gift. But, he doesn't need to know that.

  I clear my throat. "You've never been one to mince words."

  "As you know, it's a professional hazard, but with you…" He doesn't finish his sentence, instead his eyes travel up and down my body with a faint smile tilting his lips. In that instant it feels like we’ve exchanged an entire conversation.

  “Well, thank you again," I say in the hopes of easing the lustful tension in the room. "Everything is perfect. I feel so spoiled."

  “You know I get a kick out of spoiling you. It's as much for my pleasure as it is for yours," he says.

  For the record, my big girl knickers are now completely drenched.

  Great.

  “Did you have time to unwind?”

  “Barely. I had to swing by Attica. I figured a big department store would carry skincare, make-up and perfume since I was forced to leave without them—”

  Without warning, Barrett leans in and inhales my scent. “You wear Flower Bomb so well,” he interrupts. "It's so you."

  "You remember?"

  "You’d be surprised of the number of things I can never forget about you."

  “Oh.”

  His green eyes darken with something I once would have described as incendiary heat. He watches me almost like he’s carefully searching my soul. As my eyes lock onto his, a shiver of wanton lust pulses through me. Great. That solo sex session on the bidet was an utter waste of my time. The man exudes such overwhelming power and strength… the kind that's nearly impossible for me to remain immune to. And here I am—the take no BS kind of girl—and I’m weak, completely engulfed by his presence.

  "You're hard to forget, Charlotte."

  Ditto. "You have to stop saying things like that."

  He responds with a small smile. "Right," he nods. “Thanks for accepting my invitation.”

  He changes subjects, but that does little to cool down the rising temperature in the room. His voice is as husky as it was when he asked me for dinner as we were both standing outside of Christos’ law firm waiting for our chauffeured cars. And his blazed glee is as unsettling.

  I take a few steps back to distance myself from him. I need the space to think. “We still have soooo much work to do. We need to be at the top of our game for when we speak to Groove Renegade,” I say.

  He raises a surprised eyebrow. “Work?” And just like that he's standing close to me again. Too close this time. "Seriously?" he asks.

  “Relax, Barrett. I’m just joking. I’m not that daft.”

  “So, you’re not mad at me for cutting into Ilis’ plans?”

  “Can I be honest?”

  “Always.”

  The last few tense minutes in that conference room were all-consuming. The possessive fire burning in Barrett’s eyes as Ilis flirted hard was dizzying. It shouldn't matter how Barrett feels when I'm with another man because I left him. I put our relationship behind me. I vowed over and over again that I was done. Unwilling to stick around as he pushed me away. But today, it did matter.

  “I think you were as keen on the idea of me having dinner with Ilis as much as I liked the idea of Dialina walking around her home whipping up a mean moussaka dish with her non-surgically enhanced melons hanging freely under one of her trampy skintight tops.”

  Yeah, I had a lot to get off my chest.

  Barrett’s lips tremble at first, but soon the laughter pours out of him. I mean the man roars uncontrollably. I haven't seen him this lighthearted in forever. He laughs so hard that I join him. After a few hilarious seconds, he finds his composure.

  “My God you’re funny. Your sense of humor is contagious. I can’t tell you how much I miss that." He pauses. "How much I miss you.” Wow.

  Since I’ve clearly injected my veins with some truth serum before coming up here, I say, “I’ve missed you too, Barrett.” A lot.

  And for a brief moment, the most alpha male I know flashes me the most adorable boyish smile.

  And just like that, it’s back to business as usual. The strong alpha is back, "Well, since we’re exchanging deep dark secrets, I'm not going to lie. You're right. I much prefer having you here for dinner than knowing that you’re with that horny dipshit. I mean canny publicist. Pardon that Freudian slip." I laugh out loud. “The thought alone would kill me." Those last few words take me aback.

  Honestly, how do you respond to that?

  "You'd survive," is all I manage.

  “I doubt it." He offers a wry smile.

  CHAPTER 19

  Barrett

  “Why don’t we go inside?” I suggest.

  "Great idea," she smiles wide.

  "After you." I extend my arm, inviting her to go first.

  Charlotte takes a step forward and I follow her closely.

  “Straight down the long corridor and then you can’t miss it,” I throw over her shoulder.

  “Got it!”

  Shamelessly, I watch her ass sway enticingly under her dress and without an ounce of scruples, I allow my mind to wander. Is she wearing the underwear I got her?

  She always looks fucking good, but today she’s gone from hot to five-alarm-fire incendiary hot. Her coiffed blonde hair, her eyes filled with playfulness, and that cock-hardening dress that makes me want to eat her alive—starting between those creamy white thighs and working my way to her sweet little clit. Damn. I knew she’d look stunning, I just wasn't prepared for the final effect. The fact that she’s combined the crimson red silk dress that slightly flares out from the waist down, and that hits her mid-calf along with the nude color strappy sandals I got her, only makes her that much more irresistible.

  Fuck.

  My cock is already hard as steel, and we’ve barely said hello. How the hell am I going to manage to make it throughout dinner when all I want to do is fuck her senseless until she’s screaming out my name?

  "Wow! Your suite is huge," she exclaims when we reach the living room.

  “They only have six suites like these in the hotel and as you can imagine, they’re very coveted. For a reason. This is opulence at its best. That's why I always insist on staying up here when I'm in Athens—a perk of being a Spire Ambassador.”

  “You even have a full bar and a kitchen," she observes, craning her neck to
look past me.

  "There's so much more to see. I'll give you a tour a little later.”

  "That sounds good. Thank you again for the upgrade, Barrett. The spa-like bathroom is an absolute delight," she says.

  "Nonsense, Charlotte. It's my pleasure.”

  We stare at each other for a few seconds, pretending that we’re still oblivious to the all-encompassing lust hanging thick in the room since she walked in here.

  “I'm ready for a drink and I'm sure after our interminable day, you are as well." I break the spell we’re under. I have to, or else we won’t make it to the appetizers before I have her body crushed against one of these walls with my cock buried deep inside her wetness.

  "Absolutely. In fact, I might need two," she laughs.

  "That shouldn't be a problem," I laugh back.

  "Come on. Follow me," I wave. “I know you're a martini girl," I throw over my shoulder. "I made sure the hotel staff stocked up the bar with all the essentials. But to start us off, I ordered a bottle of Récemment Dégorgé Bollinger. I hope that's okay with you?"

  "I can never refuse vintage champagne."

  "Good. Since we haven't seen each other in six months, I thought it was worth celebrating. You know… us reconnecting," I grin.

  "As long as that's all we’re doing," she cautions.

  Of course not. “Exceptional wine, outstanding food and great company. What more can I ask for?" I avoid answering that head on. "I ate alone last night in my suite, but I would’ve much preferred your company," I tell her.

  She doesn't say anything. She doesn't have to. That small smile speaks volumes.

  “Why don’t you go out on the deck? The hotel staff has already set everything up for us. I'll ring the kitchen later when we’re ready to order our dinner.”

  “Brilliant. The meal I had last night was superb.”

  “It should be a repeat tonight," I smile. "Let me grab the champagne and appetizer."

  "Sounds good. I'll be out there enjoying your deck," she says, dropping her designer clutch on the sofa before making her way outside.

  Yeah, I bought her the small YSL bag as well. It matches the sinfully sexy sandals.

  I turn around to head to the kitchen, but her voice stops me in my tracks. "Blimey," I hear her shout behind me. I chuckle and keep walking. "Have you seen this?" she yells louder.

  "The view?"

  "Not just any old view, mate. It's the view to end all views. Good Lord, you can practically reach out and touch the Acropolis from here. It looks amazing illuminated like this at night. Wow.” She’s as excited as a kid. “I got gimped."

  "How so?"

  "I only have a view of the beautiful gardens, but you get this."

  I chuckle. "I know. That's another reason why I stay up here. At the end of a punishing day of mind-numbing meetings, that’s my reward," I shout from the kitchen.

  "And, FYI, this deck is absolutely stunning. Between the jacuzzi, the lounging area outfitted with a humongous flat screen television, and those daybeds, I could live up here," she says. “And now that it isn’t nearly as hot as it was earlier, this place is like a little spot of paradise perched in the sky,” she adds.

  “You're invited up here for as long as we’re in this city."

  "Don't tempt me," she shouts.

  Oh, but I will.

  A few trips later and I have the champagne and the platter of grilled shrimp on the long table. Both are sitting on a bed of ice. I lift my eyes up and I'm stunned by the view—and just so we’re clear, I'm not talking about an ancient building—Charlotte is leaning forward against the railing, soaking in the city at her feet. With her tempting ass pointing straight at me, my cock jerks its approval. I quickly adjust myself before grabbing the bottle by its neck and pouring the effervescent liquid into two flutes and stroll towards her, enjoying every second she's unaware that I'm unabashedly checking her out.

  "Here you go," I say handing her a glass.

  She turns around with a huge smile stretching across her face.

  "Thank you very much," she says.

  I lift my glass and say, "Here's to Jason Belvedere’s cock. May I thank it for bringing us together again," I cheer.

  She explodes in laughter.

  "Oh my God, Barrett. Only you would make such a ridiculous toast.”

  "Come on, Charlotte, work with me here. It's impolite not to clink your glass with mine," I say, despite the fact that she’s still folded in half.

  "You’re absolutely hilarious," she says between fits of laughter.

  "Do you disagree? For the past six months I've been trying to reach you. Each attempt has resulted in utter failure. Do you even know what that does to a bloke's ego?" She arches an immaculately drawn eyebrow in response. "In my book, Jason's cock has accomplished the impossible," I chuckle.

  "I won’t argue. I doubt I’d be standing in the same room as you had it not been for Jason.”

  "Finally, we agree on something!" I pause and lift my glass up, nodding at her to do the same. "Thank you, Jason, for allowing your cock to do all the thinking for you."

  "Cheers," Charlotte clinks her glass against mine.

  We both laugh like silly teenagers.

  Once we find our composure, we take a long sip of our champagne.

  “Wow, this is amazing,” Charlotte says before taking another long sip.

  I watch her slender neck as she leans her head back. The urge to kiss and suck on it is overpowering.

  She senses me observing her.

  “You’re staring,” she blushes.

  Damn right.

  There's an undeniable electrifying energy in the air that’s intoxicating. I haven't felt like this around a woman in a long time. Six months to be precise.

  When we aren’t a couple, we’ve perfected the art of pushing each other's buttons, but magical moments like these are special. Many of the sacrifices I've made are too difficult to brook and make me want to swallow bile.

  I shun the conflicting thoughts bouncing in my head and focus on her.

  “I know I've said it before, but it bears repeating, you look spectacular in that dress." That’s not really what I want to stay, but I choose the safer route.

  “Thank you again,” she says sweetly. "You have a great eye for fashion, Barrett. You always have." She opens her mouth to say something, but reconsiders.

  "What?"

  The cocky glee flashing in her eyes should have been a precursor. "Perhaps fashion is your calling after all," she laughs. “Maybe all this boring law stuff is a distraction. A temporary gig.”

  "Was that a compliment?"

  “Lighten up, Barrett. Do you have to be a hard ass about everything?" She brings her closed fist to her waist. No, she doesn't look impressed.

  “All right, thank you for the compliment," I concede. “You have to remember that I've had many years of practice...” She cocks her head to the side. "…figuring out what you like and what looks amazing on you. Don't forget, you used to be mine and we lived together for a few years."

  "Used to, being the operative words," she says.

  I take a step closer to her. I drop my glass far away from me on the flat top of the railing. I pull hers from her hands and do the same. She doesn’t object.

  "You're right, butterfly," I whisper brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

  She shivers.

  “Don’t call me that.” She protests, but her voice holds no edginess. No anger. No real warning.

  “But you are, and you know it. You keep escaping—”

  "You keep pushing me away."

  "I'm not pushing you away right now."

  "Because you have manners. I’m your guest."

  "Hmph.” I consider her for a beat, gauging how far I can take this. “I'm almost convinced," I finally say.

  She knits her eyebrows together. "What are you talking about?"

  I look down at my watch before locking eyes with her again. “You've already been here for twenty minutes, but we'
re still pretending that this evening doesn't mean much more than two old friends having dinner together. If that was the case, you could've demanded that we dine at the restaurant, but you didn't. Why not?"

  Her answer doesn't come immediately. She has to think about it. "I-I felt that the brouhaha of the restaurant might be a bit much to handle after such a long day."

  She looks away, but I won't allow it. I place my fingers under her chin and force her to keep her eyes on me.

  "That's a commendable effort, but I remain unconvinced." I take another step closer. We’re intimately close now. “What do you really want from this evening?” With my thumb I trace the contour of her plump lips, slightly smearing her fiery red lipstick.

  "Barrett," she whispers, her eyes pleading.

  “You want to know what happens to a man when his fist has been his only companion for the last month and then God makes things happen so that he’s standing mere inches away from his sinfully sexy ex—who’s as single as he is?”

  "What?" she asks, almost in a daze.

  "I don't know yet." I lean forward and whisper near her mouth. "I hope you'll help me write the ending of the story." I pull away from her and wait for her reaction.

  That beautiful mouth breaks into a wide uninhibited smile, but quickly she catches herself.

  "You haven't been with a woman in that long?" she asks with feigned seriousness.

  I shake my head. "I've been juggling too much. And you know how my mind gets when I'm too preoccupied."

  Sometimes it's just too much work to chase after a random pussy. A name and a face I’ll quickly forget after I come. That, and having to deal with my two monkeys. Fuck, I hate those people.

  She doesn't need all the details. That would only kill the mood.

  "Oh."

  “I'm sure things are very different for you. I mean look at you. You’re fucking hot." I almost growl that sentence. "I'm sure you have to turn men down every minute of the day."

  She gives me a one-shoulder shrug.

  What was that?

  "You'd be surprised how unglamorous the life of a publicist is. All work and little time to play," she confesses.

  I frown. "What do you mean?"