The Perfect Mistake (The Connovan Chronicles #2)

by Olivia Hayle

I want my answer to be something else. Something far dirtier than the man I’ve become. The father. The widower. Something that will shock those beautiful eyes into widening. Why don’t you let me show you?

Holding out his large hand, he says, “Dance with me.” And I slide my hand into his.

I’ve always had a thing for men’s hands, and his… tanned and agile, with neatly trimmed nails. They look manly. Capable and strong. A bit weathered. Large.

He doesn’t answer me. He turns his hand over instead, his long fingers wrapping around mine. Electricity shoots through me as we touch, and I can’t look away from our intertwined hands.

“You could have texted me,” I say. “If you were worried.” His eyes narrow, and I know he won’t say it. Won’t admit to it. Maybe texting would have been too much capitulation—to his feelings, to his concern. I can see the war reflected in his eyes.

He slides his hand beneath my jaw, and gently tips my head up. “I care more than I should.”

It’s not my job to guide her as she discovers her own pleasure or help her verbalize her needs, and it’s sure as hell not my right to take my own pleasure. It’s someone else’s. Someone better, and more suited for her. I hate the thought of that bastard, but it’s true.

“I don’t understand you,” I say. “You said you wouldn’t look at it. You were the one who said we couldn’t do this!”

“We shouldn’t,” he says. His face looks strained. “I shouldn’t… but I can’t stop thinking about you. Every minute since we talked, I’ve hated that I put a stop to things. You’re stuck in my head, sweetheart, and I can’t get you out. It’s only gotten worse after being with you the other night. After reading this. Fuck, I’ve been replaying the sounds of you coming, and wanting nothing but to hear them again.”

Rough sex, smooth sex, massage sex. And everywhere, dirty talk-filled the pages, with the heroes declaring how much they needed to fuck. I didn’t know women wanted that, but Isabel has taught me in no uncertain terms that she likes it. Wants it. Wants to be wanted, and Lord knows I do.

I want to ruin her for all future men. I want to be the one she thinks about when she touches herself, while she fucks her boring future husband, and when she tells her girlfriends about the hottest fling of her life.

“I wanted you, too,” she murmurs, leaning her head back against my shoulder. “For months, before this.” I close my eyes against the softly spoken admission. My plan was to ruin her for all future partners, to be the best sex she’s ever had, even if I can’t be the man for her. I never anticipated that she’d ruin me too.

“Be good for me one final time,” he murmurs, “and fall asleep.”

Things don’t have to end up the way you planned for them to be wonderful.

“I was talking about you.” My eyes narrow. “What?” “The good man who’s caring and protective?” She digs her teeth into her lower lip, and there’s a shy glint in her eyes. “I was talking about you. You are that good man.”

He doesn’t want more. Not the more that I want, that I’ve always wanted with him, the pipe dream I nurtured for years. I’ve never even told him that. How my heart would speed up every time he entered a room. How I’d linger around Connie if she mentioned her brother would swing by, just to get five minutes in the same space with him.

“You’re flirting with someone now?” “Well, it’s not like you’re receptive to flirting,” I shoot back. “You made that clear.” He frowns. “That’s not what I said.”

“I’ve only been paying attention to you.” His hands grip the jacket and push it off me, letting it fall to the floor. “Come here.”

“If you’re sleeping with me,” he mutters, his hands sliding down to grip my ass, “you’re not sleeping with anyone else.” “That goes for you, too,” I say. He smells good, like cologne and warm skin. He chuckles against my temple. “I can’t even think about anyone else. There’s only you. There’s only been you for a long time. Even before you became my nanny.”

“Don’t wear another man’s jacket again.” “Then let me wear yours in public,” I whisper back. Alec groans, and his hands tighten around my body. “You know why I can’t do that.” “No,” I say against his lips. “I don’t. If you want me… make me yours.”

“I can’t think when you’re around,” he mutters. He kisses my neck, down to the slim strap of my little red dress. “It’s fucking infuriating.”

“I need you all the time,” he admits. “I hate you a bit for that, sweetheart. For making me need someone again.”

“Don’t flirt with other men,” he admonishes. “Then don’t tell me this is just sex.” His lips brush mine. “It’s not just sex,” he says. “And so help me, I don’t want it to be. I do want to make you mine.”

You feel like a part of me, one I never knew I needed. An infinitely better part, and I can’t lose you. The idea of never hearing you laugh again or seeing you smile or feeling…” I shake my head, trying and failing to clear it. The anger is still palpable. “I can’t handle it.”

I don’t know if I can handle the pain of losing her. But I can’t let her go, either.

Stop performing, and start living.”

I’m done spending years fighting to be the one who’s chosen.

If you’re going to ruin me, then, Isa, I’ll let you. There’s no one else I want to hurt for.”