The Marriage Mistake mtab-3

by Jennifer Probst

  In a matter of two weeks, she’d upended his life. She was a bit messy with her clutter. She left the cap off the toothpaste, her shoes kicked off by the door, and never seemed to reach the hamper with her dunk shot.

  He discovered she shared his passion for forensic crime dramas and the occasional trashy reality disaster. Sometimes they’d sit together with Rocky beside them, drink wine, and watch television in blissful silence. The four-star meals he loved to experiment with finally had another participant, and he noticed more pleasure in creating dishes for her.

  Of course, he kept waiting for panic to hit with the knowledge that his old life was over and he was tied down to one woman forever. He figured he’d experience feelings of anger, resentment, or pure terror. But since that disastrous honeymoon night when she threw back his words in fury, he’d kept his distance. They reached a tentative truce and treated each other with the utmost politeness and respect. Max told himself he was relieved she wasn’t pushing him into false intimacies. He never expected her to be so resentful of the marriage, either. She didn’t need him anymore in any type of capacity, obvious in her sudden focus on finding out if she wanted to continue working at La Dolce Maggie. She hadn’t mentioned it lately, and since there’d been no major mishaps, maybe Carina decided to stick it out.

  “Carina?”

  She spun around and his heart caught. With her hair loose and messy around her shoulders, a streak of charcoal on her cheek, and her smock splattered with paint, she looked different from her normal work self. Her cutoff shorts exposed a length of tanned leg, and cherry red toenails flashed on her bare feet. She scowled at him. “What?”

  He shifted his feet and suddenly felt like a teenage boy. “What are you working on?”

  “Not sure.” She crinkled her nose in that cute manner he began to spot. “My usual stuff isn’t satisfying. I feel as if I’m reaching for something more, but I’m not sure what it is yet.”

  “You’ll get there.”

  “Eventually.” She paused. “Did you want something?”

  Christ, why did he feel like an idiot? Chasing after his own wife for some type of interaction. Max cleared his throat. “I’m making dinner. Thought you might want to take a break.”

  “Will you save me a plate, please? Can’t stop now.”

  “Sure. Don’t work too hard.”

  “Hmm.”

  Her absent sound and dismissal pissed him off. Why did she get to be cranky about being forced into marriage? He’d sacrificed his life, too. “Are you ready for our opening in two weeks? You’ve done a good job prepping for it. Might have to work late for the next few days.”

  As if realizing she forgot to tell him something unimportant, she cut a hand through the air. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. I’m quitting.”

  He rocked back on his heels. “What?”

  She pushed a hand through her curls and a flash of red paint speared random strands. “Sorry, I meant to tell you earlier. It’s just not working for me any longer. I’ll speak with Michael tomorrow. I’ll stay as long as you need until you get a worthy assistant.”

  Shock held him motionless. When had she decided this? Since they arrived home from Vegas, she’d continued to work at the office, but had cut back her hours. She completed her work to full capacity, but he knew her usual enthusiasm had diminished. His insides lurched at the idea of not seeing her in the office, but combined with a sense of pride. The image of their night together mocked him. Naked and in his arms, she confessed her emotions in a way that made him feel treasured. Now, she made her own decisions without a thought. A deep longing washed through him but he didn’t know what to do about it. “What are you going to do instead?”

  Carina grinned, her eyes lit with excitement. “I’m going to work in Alexa’s store, BookCrazy.”

  “Interesting. I knew Alexa needed help with the second baby coming, but had no clue you’d even been to the bookstore.”

  “I stopped by early in the week to give her some help. Her accountant sucks and really screwed things up. I told her I’d take a look at her financials, but after working a few hours, I realized I love the place.”

  A smile curved his lips at her enthusiasm. She consistently surprised him with her ability to move from controlled executive to an openhearted woman full of life and love. “I’m not surprised. Bookstores are the perfect blend of business and creativity.”

  “Exactly! I’m going to train with her for the next few weeks and give it a trial run.”

  Pride burst through him. “You’ll rock it like you do everything else.”

  “Thank you.”

  They stared at each other. He wanted to close the distance between them—both physically and emotionally. After all, they were married for the long haul. Their connection during sex was earth-shattering. Why should they deny that part of their relationship?

  Sensual awareness zinged to life, and she dragged in a breath. The tension twisted and he grew rock hard and ready to roll. The idea of tumbling her on top of that work desk and sinking into her wet heat made him want to stomp and snort like a stallion. He took a step forward, his eyes darkening with promise.

  She turned her back on him. “Thanks for checking on me. Back to work.”

  Max smothered a curse at her obvious dismissal. How long was this going to last? Would she punish both of them because of a forced marriage? Perhaps he needed to show her what she was missing, how right they were for each other in bed.

  Perhaps, it was time to seduce his wife.

  He waited but she had already moved on and attacked the blankness with a few sharp strokes. He left her in the sunlight, alone, and wondered what he was going to do.

  * * *

  What was she missing?

  Carina peered at the image in front of her. Technically, the shadowing and structure were solid, but the unknown element was missing. The It factor.

  She rotated her neck in tiny circles and glanced around. What time was it? The sun was long gone, and the last time Max checked on her had been around dinnertime. Her watch confirmed she’d been painting for several hours.

  Frustration nibbled on the edge of her nerves. It was hard plunging into the craft after several years of no practice. Her painting had been something she had had no time for once she committed to business school and had hoped a solid career path would still the inner voices that screamed for her to create.

  Nope. The voices were back—big-time. But now her skills were rusty and her usual profiles were flat. The art class she’d finally signed up for helped reconnect with the basics needed to springboard off of. Between her new job at BookCrazy and her art, her life finally seemed to turn in the right direction. About time.

  Except for her marriage mistake.

  The memory of Max in her workroom burned behind her lids. All casual sexiness and steam concentrated full force. She’d barely been able to turn around, but dismissal was crucial. If he believed she was his sweet little pup ready to beg at the first crook of his finger, he’d learn the truth. Chasing him her whole life was exhausting. Time to regain her foundation and decide how she wanted to navigate this relationship—this time on her terms.

  Carina sighed and looked down at herself. Yuck. A complete mess. Rocky lifted his head from his long hours of sleep and yawned. She laughed and dropped to her knees to pet him, scratching his upper belly till she hit the sweet spot and his leg began to thump in doggy ecstasy.

  “I think I’m jealous of my dog.”

  She looked up. Mr. Hotness lounged in the doorway with a jar in his hands. Worn Levi’s rode low on his hips, and a simple white T-shirt stretched across his broad chest. His feet were bare.

  Her body slammed to full alert, ready to play. She gazed at him with suspicion. “Rocky will always be number one. What’s that?”

  A wicked gleam danced in his eyes. Her heart sped up. “You worked through dinner. Thought I’d bring you a treat to raise your blood sugar.”

  “How considerate.”

  “Isn
’t it? Wanna taste?”

  She glared at the jar, then back at him. “What is it?”

  “Chocolate.”

  The word slid from his mouth like hot fudge. Her stomach dipped. He shifted his hips and that hot gaze traveled from her head to the tip of her naked toes. Carina tried to clear her throat, but her saliva had dried up. The man should be illegal. She forced the words out. “Not hungry.”

  “Liar.”

  Her temper flared. “I’m not playing these games with you, Max. Why don’t you trot along and do what you do best? Go save someone who needs it.”

  “Don’t want anyone else.”

  The words seared and burned like flame. She flung her head up and grit her teeth. “Then what do you want?”

  “You. Now. Take off your clothes.”

  Carina froze. “What?” Like a predator, he closed in with a lazy grace and a careful eye. She clenched her fingers into fists and struggled for breath. He stopped in front of her. Pulses of energy shot at her, demanding she listen. Something inside her rose and cried out to obey. Holy crap, why did him ordering her around get her so hot? And why did she want to obey so badly?

  “Let me tell you everything I want, Carina. I’ve been lying in my bed these past weeks with an erection that won’t go away. Thinking of that night, over and over, and wondering how many different ways I can make you come.”

  Heat engulfed her. Her breasts swelled against the constraints of her bra and her nipples tightened to painful points. Holding her completely under his spell, he lowered his head and stopped inches from her lips. His scent swam around her and made her dizzy. He pressed a thumb to her lower lip and dragged it across. “I know you’re pissed. I know I fucked up. But I want you so bad I’m going out of my head. Why not give ourselves this?”

  His words held a deep truth she so desperately wanted to believe. This she could trust. His penis pressed against her thigh, and her body wept for relief. Toe-curling, orgasmic, satisfying sex. No more. No less.

  Just like that night.

  Carina hesitated on the edge of the abyss. Could she play such a dangerous game, knowing she still felt so deeply for him?

  He reached out and grabbed a clean paintbrush from the easel. With slow, deliberate motions, he ran the brush down her cheek. She shivered at the teasing touch, and her nerve endings sizzled like eggs on a hot skillet. “Say yes. Because I want to play.”

  Her knees weakened in true cliché form. She wondered if she’d faint also, or kick up her leg when he finally kissed her. Arousal pounded through her bloodstream and hit her clit until there was no other answer to give.

  “Yes.”

  His fingers moved, unbuttoning the smock and tossing it on the floor. Her shirt came up over her head. He studied her black bra with a bad-boy stare and reached around her. She hissed out a breath as he unsnapped it with one deft motion and the skimpy lace fell to her feet. Big hands cupped her breasts, lifting, stroking, until a moan rose from her throat. Without pause, his fingers slipped down and pulled the snap of her shorts. Slid the zipper down. And tugged them off.

  Trying not to pant, she stood in front of him in a tiny black thong. A hot blush stained her cheeks. He bent his head and kissed her. Deeply and thoroughly, with a lazy sweep of his tongue. The taste of coffee and mint intoxicated her, until she pressed against him and nipped at his mouth in punishment. When he pulled away, a savage glint lit his blue eyes. “You are so fucking beautiful. Let me look at you. All of you.”

  Half drunk from his burning stare, she slipped out of the panties.

  Max gazed at her for a long time, hungrily touching every part of her body bared to him. Knowing he was fully dressed only added to the wetness between her legs and the feeling of being overtaken and commanded. With a satisfied smile, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a long silk scarf.

  Her eyes widened. “Are we doing the Fifty Shades of Grey thing?” she whispered.

  Max laughed. “Dio, I adore you. We can discuss. For tonight, I just want to blindfold you for a taste test. Do you trust me?”

  She hesitated, then reminded herself it was only her body, only sex. “Yes.”

  The fabric was cool as he tied it over her eyes and gently knotted it. Blackness engulfed her. It took a moment for her to gain her bearings. She used her sense of smell and the feel of his body heat to locate his position. Her ears strained as she heard a cap twisted and a soft hiss, then the swish of clothes. His gravelly voice low in her ear.

  “Relax and enjoy. Tell me what you smell.”

  She took a deep breath and the heavenly rich scent made her moan. “Chocolate.”

  “Very good. Now a taste.” He placed a tiny drop on her tongue. The bittersweet flavor exploded in her mouth in a sweet sugar rush.

  “Hmmm.” Her tongue swept out and licked her bottom lip. “Delicious.”

  He sucked in his breath. “My turn.”

  She opened her mouth and waited, but nothing came. Instead, the gentle stroke of a brush against her nipple surprised her. She jerked back in reaction, but he continued the insistent, teasing motions, until her nipple felt covered in chocolate. Carina gasped at the sensation as the buds tightened in anticipation. “Beautiful,” he murmured. His tongue was hot and wet as he licked it off her, until she arched and hung on to his shoulders for balance. Darts of arousal pinged her body, and she grew wet and achy. “You’re right, baby. The chocolate is delicious.”

  “Bastard.”

  His low laugh raked across her nerve endings. “You’ll pay for that.”

  And she did. He painted her other nipple and sucked it into his mouth, swirling his tongue around and around until she begged for mercy. The paintbrush became an instrument of torture and orgasmic ecstasy. He drew a line down the valley of her breasts and dipped into her belly button. Licked it off. Nibbled across her stomach and down her thighs. His breath blew hot across her core, but he firmly ignored her pleas and investigated the sensitive curve of her knee, her calf, and even her ankle.

  Carina dissolved into a mass of writhing sensation. Her mind spun, trapped in darkness and guided to every peak and valley by the sound of his voice, or the touch of his hands. She panted as she closed in on a powerful orgasm, caught on the precipice and awaiting his next demand.

  “Please. I can’t take any more.”

  He shushed her and painted her lips with the chocolate. Then kissed her, deep and hungry, sharing the sweet taste between them. Her lids pricked with frustrated tears. Suddenly, he lifted her in the air and she was carried. The sound of brushes clattering and jars bouncing rose to her ears. He pressed her down on a hard surface, which she quickly calculated as the art table. “We’re almost done. There’s just one place I haven’t tasted yet.”

  “No!”

  “Oh, yes.” He parted her legs and the brush teased the tight bud between her legs. Dipped in her channel. She dug her nails into her palms and fought for sanity.

  Then he put his mouth on her.

  She cried out and came hard, her body wracked in spasm after spasm. Tears pricked her lids as she shattered and he held her down on the table, making her ride out each wave until it was over. Carina heard a rip, and a curse. Then he claimed her.

  The silky thrust of his erection drove her back to the peak, and this time he joined her when she orgasmed the second time. Time stopped. Hours, minutes, seconds ticked by. The blindfold loosened and she blinked.

  His face came into view. Heavy brows. Hard cheekbones. Granite-like jaw and sensual, full lips Michelangelo would’ve wept over. He smiled. “Did you like the chocolate?”

  She sputtered a laugh. “You really are a bastard, aren’t you? Christian Grey has nothing on you.”

  He laughed with her. “My name might be similar, but I’d never say ‘Laters, baby.’ ”

  Her mouth fell open. “You read it!”

  He looked offended. “Saw it on Twitter. Now don’t piss me off or I’ll torture you with Cool Whip.”

  Carina wondered if something wa
s wrong with her. The idea sounded a bit too interesting.

  He helped her off the table and pushed her hair back with a gentle motion. The sudden arrangement she agreed to finally crystallized. No longer at the mercy of her body, Carina wondered if she’d just made an agreement with the Devil. Her nakedness only added to the vulnerability. Did she really think it was possible to separate sex from her feelings for this man? Panic clawed at her gut. “Max, I—”

  “Not tonight, baby.” As if he realized her dilemma, he scooped her up in his arms. “I’m taking you to bed now. I’ll show you some of my other skills learned from reading erotic romance novels.”

  Carina clung to him and decided not to delve any further.

  * * *

  “Are you and Carina having problems?”

  They met in the study. The large windows looked out over the formal gardens and the sound of buzzing bees and streaming water floated through the open screens. Michael handed him a glass of cognac and they settled into the oversized leather chairs. The room gave off an aura of calm and serenity, with ceiling-to-floor bookshelves, red art deco lamps, and the baby grand piano against the far wall. The smell of leather, paper, and orange wood polish filled the air.

  After Carina broke the news to her brother about leaving, he’d asked to see Max privately after work. Max agreed, knowing it was time to clear some things up. Too many lies had been told and he was getting sick of it. “Why do you ask?”

  “She’s the heir to the family business. I didn’t give her a hard time because I figured she needed to get the art thing out of her system. Now she wants to work with Alexa at the bookstore and I’m worried. I intend to pass La Dolce Maggie on to her as my second in command. It is her legacy.”