Night Shift 2(17)
And that was how he planned to spend his happily ever after.
2
Nights with Him Bonus Epilogue
By Lauren Blakely
A FEW YEARS LATER…
The ornate golden clock neared the appointed hour.
She’d be waiting for him.
He’d left her a letter that morning on her pillow. Clear instructions were given. Down to the critical details. The length of the coat. The color of the lingerie. And the seam up the back of the stockings.
After he purchased a ticket for admission, the museum employee warned that closing time was in in twenty minutes.
“That’s all I need,” he said. He straightened his cuffs, smoothed a hand along his tie and entered the Musee d’Orsay.
As Jack headed down the steps into the main hall, his shoes echoed across the marble. He’d just finished a meeting with a client; his business had continued to grow robustly in France. Indeed, Paris had been very good to Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan.
A small part of him longed to admire the art — Manet’s Olympia and the Toulouse-Lautrecs were favorites, but he’d come back again another night. For now, he narrowed his focus to finding Michelle at a Van Gogh. He turned the corner into the gallery, and stopped in his tracks, his heart pounding as he drank in the delicious sight of her.
She’d done it. She wore a short trench coat, black heels, and stockings with that irresistible seam up the back. Instant arousal. Her hair was swept high on her head and she studied the great painter’s Starry Night. It was truly a gorgeous work of art, the kind that could transport you to another world, another time.
But yet, this woman had that effect on him too. The woman who’d uprooted his life, and given him so much more in return. The greatest love. The deepest passion. The most adoring heart. That was why he loved to do things for her, and sometimes those things included leaving her notes with instructions on where to meet, what to wear, and how they’d play.
Tonight wasn’t an anniversary. It wasn’t a birthday. It wasn’t a special occasion. It was just a random Wednesday, and that’s what made this so goddamn intoxicating. Because they did this as often as they could.
He wandered up to her, stepping close, dipping his head to her neck. “Such a shame about the Van Gogh.”
She leaned into him, her hair tickling his cheek. “Something wrong with the work of art?”
“It’s about to get much less attention.”
“Oh no,” she said, bringing her hand to her heart. “Are you going to distract me from staring at its beauty?”
“Depends. Do you find this distracting?” He ran a hand up the back of her thigh.
She trembled. “Perhaps a little bit.”
He traveled higher, reaching the hem of her jacket. “I’m distracted too. The only thing I can think about is what’s under this coat.”
She inched closer, her back pressing against his chest as his fingertips reached the top of her stocking. So damn close to where he wanted to be, even with all these museum goers surrounding them, admiring the art. He brought his mouth to her neck, brushing his lips against her skin, savoring the small gasp she tried to swallow. “Did you wear this because you knew it would drive me crazy?”
She nodded. “Is it working?”
“I’m staring at you instead of a priceless work of art. I’m surrounded by beauty and all I want to know is if you’re hot and wet between your legs.”
She slinked around, and ran a red fingernail along his tie. “Find out.”
Less than a minute later, he let the door to the stairwell fall shut with a loud thunk. He backed her up to the wall, unbuckled her coat, and learned that she’d done precisely as requested in his letter.
My god, his wife was stunning in a wine-red bra, lace see-through panties, and those black thigh-highs. He had to have her now. Here in the stairwell of this museum. So he did what he told her he’d do in his note. Fucked her like he had the first night they met. Up against the wall, hot, wild, and dirty.
The best part though was when he took her out to dinner that evening at a cafe with a view of river. As he lifted a glass of wine, he asked the question that had been on his mind lately. “What would you think about no longer taking the pill?”
She laughed, and set down her water glass. “Funny thing, Jack. The pill doesn’t always work.”
He nearly spilled his glass. He blinked, processing what she’d just said. “Are you saying…?”
She nodded. “I’m saying I ordered water tonight for a reason.” Then she cupped his cheek, and stroked his jaw with her thumb. She looked the slightest bit nervous. “I just found out this morning. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
He was thinking that life was pretty much perfect. “I’m thinking that I wasn’t sure this night could get any better, but now it has.”
Then he kissed her, something he’d be doing for a long, long time.
About the Author
Since self-publishing her debut romance novel CAUGHT UP IN US three years ago, Lauren Blakely has sold more than 1 million books. She is known for her sexy contemporary romance style that's full of heat, heart and humor. A devout fan of cake and canines, Lauren has plotted entire novels while walking her four-legged friends. She lives in California with her family. With ten New York Times bestsellers, her titles have appeared on the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestseller Lists more than fifty times. Her bestselling series include Sinful Nights, Seductive Nights, No Regrets, Caught Up in Love, and Fighting Fire as well as standalone romantic comedies like BIG ROCK and MISTER O, which were both instant New York Times Bestsellers. In the fall she'll release WELL HUNG, another romantic comedy. To receive an email when Lauren releases a new book, sign up for her newsletter! laurenblakely.com/newsletter
Stay tuned for WELL HUNG! The hot & hilarious standalone rom-com is coming on Sept. 12 - http://laurenblakely.com/wellhung
Connect with Lauren
@LaurenBlakely3
LaurenBlakelyBooks
laurenblakely.com
Chelle Bliss
Enshrine Prequel by Chelle Bliss - When the clock strikes Midnight on New Year’s Eve, two strangers share more than a toast.
Wicked Impulse Excerpt by Chelle Bliss - Bear, the bad boy silver fox, never thought he’d fall in love again. But when Fran DeLuca, a woman who’s known more for her track-suits, transforms into a vixen clad in skin-tight pants and a killer push up bra, he’s tempted to cross a line he swore he never would. There’s only one thing worse than dating his friend’s sister – sleeping with his mother.
Wicked Impulse
SNEAK PEEK
Wicked Impulse, Book 3 in the ALFA PI series, can be read as a standalone or as best enjoyed, after reading Sinful Intent and Unlawful Desire. Wicked Impulse is about Bear, a character first introduced in Throttle Me (Men of Inked series).
Sinful Intent - Book 1
Unlawful Desire - Book 2
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Wicked Impulse - Book 3
or visit chellebliss.com/wickedimpulse
1
Bear
I was fucked up.
It was a fact I could never deny.
My life had been a never-ending string of bad decisions and complications. Molly was just the latest—but not the greatest by any means.
The only thing I did right was marry the love of my life, Jackie. She was the most beautiful thing in the world and sweeter than any honey a bee could make.
When we found out we were going to have our second baby, we were over the moon excited. That was where my fucked-up journey began. Jackie didn’t make it through childbirth; she hemorrhaged, and the doctors couldn’t stop the bleeding.
Losing her altered me forever.
Not only was she taken from me too soon, I had a newborn baby boy to raise along with a one-year-old daughter. I knew a little about kids, having two younger sisters, but I wasn’t ready to do it alone.
Most of their life I was absent, in and out of jail for petty charges—things like stealing cars and being in possession of stolen property. My crimes never hurt anyone except for my kids. They paid the price by not having me around and being left in the hands of my sisters.
It took me years to clean up my act.
Hell, decades, if I was being honest. Eventually, I pulled my head out of my ass and surrounded myself with true friends. City, Tank, and Frisco became my family, pulling me off the path of self-destruction.
If Jackie had made it…everything would’ve been different. We would’ve been a family, I would’ve stayed clean, and I wouldn’t have been here with freakin’ Molly.
I swatted her hand away when she reached for me. “Molly, doll, I appreciate the pussy, but you know this is nothing more than a simple fuck. Yeah?” I was bent over, pulling on my boots. If I put my ass on the bed, she would try to touch me again—and that shit was not happening. “So let’s not make this a habit.”
Pulling the sheet over her tits, she glared at me. “Bear,” she whispered in a gravelly, smoked-too-long tone.
I cut her off, nipping that shit before she started with her bullshit tears to guilt me into giving her my cock once more. “Nope. I never had planned for anything more than what this was—a dirty, sweaty fuckfest.”
“You’re a bigger asshole than I thought, Bear.” She crouched against the headboard with her arms crossed.