Accidentally Still Married (The Naked Truth #2) Read Free Page A

“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