Unraveled (Unwrapped and Unraveled 2)

"You don't owe them any explanation, Greta," Mitch said after they'd left. "Nor an apology for the decisions you make."

She stared down at her lap. "They hate me."

He laughed, and she whipped her head up to look at him.

"Honey, there isn't a day goes by that a decision I make doesn't make someone wish for my immediate demise. In business, sometimes you make unpopular decisions."

"But you don't make the kinds of choices that have everyone in your town despise you."

"They'll get over it."

"I doubt it. I probably won't be welcome at the grocery store or local mall anymore."

"I think you're overexaggerating."

"This is a small town, Mitch. Everyone knows everyone else. Word will get out that I single handedly halted major progress."

"One hotel would not be responsible for a growth explosion in Ft. Lincoln Beach. Every retailer in town would have to pony up improvements and expansions to their own facilities."

"They don't see it that way. Steps two and three can't happen without step one, and that's where I squashed the entire thing." Guilt stomped around in her stomach, mashing the delicious lobster she'd had for dinner.

"You have to stop carrying the world on your shoulders. If it's anyone's fault, it's mine."

She frowned. "Yours? Why?"

"I should have been more low key, should have approached you directly. I'd forgotten about small-town gossip."

She waved her hand. "That's not for you to worry about. I can handle it."

"You handle everything by yourself, don't you?"

He'd said it like an accusation, though his voice was soft.

"I have to, Mitch. I'm responsible for my children."

"You're a remarkable woman, Greta. You have more strength than you give yourself credit for. I admire you."

She snorted. "Yeah, I'm just superwoman, aren't I?"

"In many ways, you're one of the strongest women I've ever met."

She didn't know what to say in answer to that, just stared into his cool blue eyes and got lost in the warmth of his smile. She snuggled against him and decided to enjoy the end of the night with Mitch, since the beginning and middle had been utterly forgettable.

It took her awhile to realize Mitch wasn't taking her back to her motel. They were coasting up the highway next to the beach.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"Nowhere." He reached into the bar to pull out a bottle of champagne. He uncorked it and popped it open, then filled two glasses with the bubbling liquid and handed one to her. "I thought we'd take a ride."

She watched the white surf go by as they rode leisurely from town to town and sipped champagne, feeling decadent and so like a fish out of water. Did he have any idea how out of her element this all was? "This is not my lifestyle, Mitch."

He took a long swallow, emptied the glass and set it down, then turned to her. "It could be."

Her smile died as frustration filled her. She thought they'd never have to have this conversation again. "I'm not selling."

He took the glass away from her. "That's not at all what I'm talking about."

She frowned. "I don't understand."

"Don't you?" He swept his knuckles against her cheek, then slid his arm around her waist to draw her closer, bringing his head down to hers. He brushed her lips with a faint kiss, and she tasted tart champagne, smelled his crisp, clean soap, inhaled the fragrance of the man she'd grown all too close to way too fast. In seconds, the disastrous night melted away, replaced instead by a rush of need for this man, this moment.

He could make her forget, but more importantly, she simply loved being held and touched by him. There was only one problem.

"Mitch."

He leaned in, nuzzled her neck, causing pinpricks of delicious sensation to pop out over her skin. "Yeah."

She reached out to grab his shoulders, conscious of the driver up front. "We're not alone."

Without pulling away from her neck, he reached behind her and pressed a button. A black screen coasted slowly upward, cutting them off from the driver. "Now we are. He can't see or hear us, and he's been ordered to drive until I tell him to take us back."

She shuddered when his lips found hers again, leaned back in the roomy seat. Mitch followed, his body covering hers. He lifted his head. "Is this too confining for you?"

She hadn't even thought about it. With Mitch, she never felt restrained--in any way. "No. I need to feel you pressed against me."

He slid one hand underneath to cup her bottom, raising it up, aligning her sex against his cock and making her ache even more. He drove against her, making her feel like a teenager in the throes of first passion.

Maybe she was, because she didn't remember ever being fired up like this, ever becoming so aroused so quickly. He rained kisses over her face, down her neck, sucking gently against her throat until her skin was covered in goose bumps. She reached for his shoulder, but contact with his clothes wasn't what she wanted under her hands. She whimpered in frustration and Mitch lifted, hauling her to a sitting position.

"Ever been naked in a limo, Greta?"

His wicked smile and the devilish twinkle in his eyes emboldened her. She pulled off her shoes and dropped to her knees on the carpeted floor, then spread his legs to climb between them. "I haven't been in a limo before."

He shrugged off his jacket.

"Are you going to get naked in here?" she asked, reaching up to take off his tie and toss it on the long bench to her side, then rested her hands on his thighs.

"Would you like me to?"

"Yes."

He unbuttoned his shirt, then pulled it off. When he started on his pants, she brushed his hands aside. "Let me."

His gaze swept to hers, then he leaned back in the seat and she undid his belt, the button, and went for his zipper. His cock was hard, straining against her fingers as she drew the zipper down. She was conscious of Mitch watching her every move, but she was concentrating on drawing his pants apart, pulling them over his hips and down his legs, baring his body to her view, her touch, her mouth.

She

'd been dreaming about having access to him. He'd done some amazing things to her body. Now it was her turn to explore, though she wondered about doing this now. Maybe it wasn't the right time.

She gazed over her shoulder, but Mitch leaned forward and turned her chin to face him. "We have all the time in the world. It's just you and me."

He resumed his position, leaning back against the buttery soft leather and opening his body to her.

"Take your dress off," he said, the command spoken in a darkly soft voice that thrilled her, so unlike when Cody used to order her around. Probably because she knew she could tell Mitch no and there would be no repercussions. He would never hurt her, never berate her or smack her around just because she had a mind and opinion of her own. And in his command was a request, a need--his need. She lifted the clingy dress over her head and tossed it to the side, leaving her in the plunging satin and lace bra and matching panties.

Mitch's eyes went smoky. "Nice." He palmed his cock and began to stroke it, an act so incredibly erotic all she could do was watch. "Now take off your bra."

He made her want to strip for him, a bold act utterly new to her. She stretched up and reached behind her, making sure to take her time releasing the hooks, then pulling the straps down. She held the cups against her breasts, watching Mitch's jaw clench, the way he gripped his cock at the base of the shaft and held his fingers there as she pulled the bra away from her breasts. Just as he touched himself, she did the same, cupping her breasts, using her thumbs and fingers to swirl over her nipples. Touching herself had never been as exciting as it was this night. She'd never done it in front of a man before, but doing it for Mitch aroused her, because she could see it turned him on.

"I like that."

She smiled, pushed back and sat on the edge of the long bench across from him, spreading her legs slightly apart. With one hand still on her breast, she slid the other hand down the front of her panties. She heard his indrawn breath as she cupped her sex, using her fingers to slide over her clit, surprising even herself with the heat and pleasure that swelled there. Her lips parted and she whimpered a breathy moan.

Mitch resumed stroking his cock while Greta half reclined on her seat, her hand buried in her panties. She slid two fingers inside her pussy, using the heel of her hand to grind against her clit. With every movement she became further entrenched in the fantasy, in her aroused state, her body in tune with what she was doing, her mind awash in the awareness of Mitch's actions.