Page 73 of Captivating Mr. Second Chance

She let out a strangled laugh. “You weigh an awful lot for a twig.”

With his face muffled into her hair, she didn’t catch his words. “What?”

“I said,” he started, leaning up on his elbows and pressing his growing erection against her thigh. “You’re going to give me a complex.”

She snorted. “You’re going to givemea complex.” When a line formed between his eyebrows, she pointedly dropped her gaze down her body. While she was comfortable in how she looked and loved the lush parts of herself, her hips and breasts, she could probably snap him in half. He was basically a stick figure with glasses. “I’m, like, twice the size of you.”

He nodded, humming into a kiss, parting her legs with his knees. He dipped his head to her breast, swirling his tongue around her nipple as he pushed inside her. Turned out she didn’t need much more than some of his sweet talk and kisses to be ready for him. “I love every bit of you.”

He dragged his hand down her side to lift her leg around his waist, breathing out his words against her throat. Words about how gorgeous she was, how good she felt, how soft and sweet she was, how he wanted to stay like this forever. He lifted himself up enough that she could sneak her fingers between them, circling her fingers where they met.

“Get there,” he grunted, staring down at her, unblinking behind his glasses. “Come on, Lane.”

And when she reached her climax, he wasn’t far behind, rolling her to the side to nuzzle against her neck.

“You’re going to make me late to work,” he mumbled, and she flicked at his arm around her waist.

“Iam going to make you late? You’re the one who wouldn’t get off me.”

She felt him grin against her. “Well, that is your fault. You make it difficult to get out of bed.”

Laney was about to answer, but her stomach beat her to the punch, and Ethan flattened his hand against it. “I guess we really have to get up.” He massaged her hip then rolled away from her with a tap to the back of her thigh. “Come on. I’ve got to feed my lady.”

While Laney traipsed across the hall to use the bathroom, she heard Ethan walk to the kitchen. “I’m going to start the coffee,” he told her. “After a shower, I’ll make breakfast, okay?”

She only laughed, pressing her hand to her forehead that he would ask if it was okay. As if she’d ever say no to him wanting to take care of her.

Even though Bobby was a literal world-renowned chef, he almost never made food for Laney. He was always too tired and said the last thing he wanted to do when he came home from work was to cook.

Now Ethan wanted to make her breakfast before he went to work. It was almost impossible to imagine how she had herself convinced that she was happy with Bobby, when what she had with Ethan, what she felt for him, was so much bigger and better than anything else in her life.

And a few minutes later, she was still smiling about it when Ethan strolled into the bathroom, naked and singing “Always Be My Baby.” She laughed as he took her hand, circling her under his arm, even with his toothbrush in her mouth. After he let her go, he looked her up and down, noting that she was back in her bra and underwear.

“You’re dressed.”

“Not really,” she said, finishing up with her teeth to pass him the toothbrush.

He took it and squirted some more toothpaste on it. “I thought you’d shower with me.”

She pointed her thumb over her shoulder to his sage-green shower curtain. “I don’t have any of my stuff.”

He heaved out a petulant sigh. “Fine.” When he hunched over the sink to brush his teeth, Laney stepped back, but he caught her wrist. “Send that picture to me.”

She frowned in thought. “The picture?”

“The one of me eating your boob.”

She rolled her eyes, refusing to laugh. “No.”

“No? Why not?”

“Because.” When he raised his brows, waiting for her to go on, she gestured to his crotch. “Are you going to send me a dick pic?”

“Yeah. If you want. Go get your phone. Take one right now.”

“Oh my god,” she moaned, spinning away from him. He followed her to the bedroom, where she slipped into her clothes from the day before.

“What’s wrong?”

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