Skylar & Sebastian Bonus Scene! ♥ Some Sort of Happy by Melanie Harlow

March 10, 2016 Angela Excerpts, Guest Feature

Skylar & Sebastian Bonus Scene! ♥ Some Sort of Happy by Melanie HarlowSome Sort of Happy (Happy Crazy Love #1) by Melanie Harlow
Series: Happy Crazy Love #1
Genres: Contemporary, Romance
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Skylar Nixon is a twenty-seven year old failed actress with no Plan B. After a humiliating stint on a reality TV show crushes what’s left of her childhood dream, she finds herself back in her hometown with no money saved, no college degree, and no confidence she’s anything but a joke—a small town starlet who couldn’t hack it in the big city.

When she runs into former classmate Sebastian Pryce, she can’t believe the hot body and chiseled jaw belong to the shy, troubled loner she knew ten years before. He’s not exactly friendly at first, and she’s heard the rumors about his tragic past, but something in his sad eyes intrigues her. She only wants to get to know him better.

Until the night she wants more—and takes it. (Hard and deep. Twice.)
Are they just two lonely people seeking solace? Or can a disgraced beauty queen and flawed, frustrated man find some sort of happy ever after?

**Some Sort of Happy is a full-length romance novel, complete with HEA.**

If you’ve read the fantastic Happy Crazy Love series by Melanie Harlow, I’m sure you fell in love with Skylar and Sebastian. As a special treat for fans, Melanie has written a special Some Sort of Happy wedding bonus scene! If you haven’t read the series yet, you’re really missing out.

Bonus Scene

SKYLAR & SEBASTIAN BONUS SCENE

SEBASTIAN

I checked my watch again—just after eleven, and only ten minutes since I last looked. Damn. How long did a man have to stay at his own wedding, anyway? But I tried not to frown, since Skylar was having the time of her life, and I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. She was out there on the dance floor with her dad, her eyes bright, her smile dazzling. Standing in the shadows over to one side of the tent (yes, trying to hide), I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Neither could anyone else. All day long, people kept remarking on her exceptional beauty, telling me how lucky I was.

They didn’t know the half of it. They couldn’t.

They’d never understand what it meant that she loved me the way she did. Wholly, passionately, relentlessly. All my darkest places, my unforgivable thoughts, my countless faults. Even when I tried to push her away, out of fear or frustration or anger with myself, she fought back—because she knew how I needed her light. That without her, I’d have drowned in my own doubts and insecurities, and spent a lifetime alone and unhappy. She was everything to me, and I loved her with a ferocity I hadn’t even known was possible and could never fully express.

But I could spend forever trying, and I would.

She caught my eye, and my body reacted almost as if she’d touched me. Something passed between us. My breath caught in my chest, my stomach muscles tightened, my dick stirred in my pants. I ran a hand over my chin—scruff neat and short for the occasion—and touched my lips with my fingertips, hoping she’d understand. I want my mouth on you.

She did. She always did.

The song ended and she hugged her father one more time before walking over to me. “Hi,” she said. Her skin was flushed and glowing, and her eyes held a little concern. “How are you, honey?” She slipped her arms around my waist and tilted her head back to look at me.

I kissed her forehead. “Good.”

“Are you having a good time?”

“The best.”

Grinning, she leaned back even further, setting her hips firmly against mine. “Liar. You’re done, aren’t you?”

“I’m hard is what I am,” I said quietly. “And if you keep pressing against me like that, I’m going to have to throw you over my shoulder and carry you out of here like a caveman.”

She giggled. “I dare you.”

That was all I needed. Bending down, I set my shoulder at her waist, looped my arms around her thighs—no easy task, since her legs were lost in an endless sea of frothy white ruffles—and stood. She squealed and laughed as I turned and carried her away from the tent, across the lawn, and onto the stone path toward the winery.

“Sebastian, are you crazy? Put me down!” She beat her hands against my back as wedding guests hooted and pointed fingers.

Ignoring them, I pushed open the glass door to the tasting room and headed right up the stairs with Skylar still flailing over my shoulder. At the dark second floor landing, I turned right and headed down the hall for the room my brothers and I had waited in before the ceremony. I left the lights off, shut the door, and set her on her feet with her back against it.

“You’re an animal.” But she laughed and ran her hands up my chest. “I love it. I love you.” Twining her arms around my neck, she kissed me, pulling me tightly against her.

I gathered her in as close as I could, opening my mouth over hers, stroking her tongue with mine. But I felt a million miles away from her. These fucking clothes—between my suit and all the layers of her dress, it was like trying to fuck someone zipped into a sleeping bag. I couldn’t feel her skin, and I craved it. All day long we’d been in a crowd, so many eyes on us. I’d stood beside her, held her hand, danced with her, but I’d never been relaxed enough to take it in—the real meaning of today. She was my wife, and I was her husband, and I wanted to drown in that happiness, lose myself inside her.

“Skylar,” I said, my voice cracking. “I need you. Now.”

“I need you too,” she whispered, dropping her hands to my belt. “I can’t wait until we get home.” She slid her hand inside my pants and wrapped her fingers around my erection, which ached and throbbed at her touch.

I braced two hands on the door behind her and groaned softly as she licked and kissed my jaw, my neck, my ear, her hand working up and down my cock.

“I’ve been wanting to touch you like this all day.” Her breath was warm and soft on my skin. “You look so fucking hot in this suit. I kept thinking, I can’t believe I get to be married to him. I can’t believe how lucky I am.”

I laughed, but it turned into another groan when she swirled her fingertips over the tip. “Are you fucking kidding me? I’ve barely been able to keep it in my pants today.” I took her face in my hands. Enough moonlight filtered through the open blinds on the windows for me to make out her perfect, classic features. “You are, without a doubt—and I don’t say that phrase very often—the most beautiful girl I have ever seen in my life. I’ve always thought that, since the first moment I laid eyes on you in the fourth grade. And today? You took everyone’s breath away.”

“I only care about yours.”

“Always mine. Always.” Sealing my lips to hers, I tasted her sweetness—wedding cake and champagne—and breathed in the lingering scent of her perfume, something light and fresh that reminded me of the first day I really kissed her, a warm sunny afternoon we spent lying in the bottom of a rowboat out on the bay. How badly I’d wanted to touch her that day, run my hands all over her pale satin skin, watch her blue eyes flutter closed in pleasure. I’d been too scared that day, but now…

Now she was my wife.

It couldn’t take away my fears completely, but knowing that she loved and trusted me with her heart, her body, her soul, that she wanted to build a life with me, take me inside her every night, take my name—it made me feel stronger than I’d ever imagined.

I knelt down and tried to lift up the bottom of her dress, which was thick and heavy and lined with some sort of netting that I couldn’t even get beneath. And it was heavy. “What the fuck? How did you even walk around in this thing all day?”

She laughed and grabbed me by the tie. “Come here.” Pulling me up, she took me by the shoulders and pushed me backward until the back of my legs hit the couch. “Sit.”

I did as she asked, and she gathered up the bottom of her dress in her arms and lifted it. In the silvery light I saw her bare legs appear and immediately I moved to the edge of the couch and ran my hands up their sides from calf to hip. When I felt the lace of her panties, I pulled them down and she stepped out. Slipping a hand between her thighs, I swept my fingers along her petal-soft skin, sliding one easily inside her. She gasped when I rubbed that spot she liked deep inside, swaying toward me. “Mmm,” she murmured, looking down at me. “I love the way you touch me.”

“Good thing. Because I can’t keep my hands off you.” Leaning forward, I teased her clit with the tip of my tongue. “Or my mouth.”

She moaned softly as I moved my finger and tongue in tandem, slowly but firmly, her pussy growing wetter, her clit getting harder.

“Now,” she panted, “or my legs will give out.”

“Now works for me. Because there’s something else I can’t keep off you.” I sat back. “Come here,” I said gruffly, shoving my pants down toward my knees. She got on my lap, one leg on either side of mine, and I guided her onto my cock, holding my breath as she sank all the way down.

When her perfect ass rested on my thighs, she let go of her dress and wrapped her arms around my neck. I pressed my lips to her collarbone, her throat, the tops of her breasts. I took her head in my hands and slid my fingers into her gossamer hair.

God, she was so beautiful. How was it possible she was mine forever? And she felt so good, every part of her.

“Remember,” she whispered as we started to move. “Remember the first time?”

I groaned, partly because the memory of our first time was so hot, and partly because of the way she felt sliding up and down my dick, hot and wet and tight. “Yes.”

“In the front seat of your truck, and I rode you just like this.” She circled her hips, and I clutched her waist, trying to keep control.

“Fuck yes, I remember. You drove me out of my fucking mind. I remember wanting to go slow, wanting it to be perfect for you, but I don’t think I lasted two minutes.”

“But I came first.” She moved a little faster now, grinding her clit on my pelvic bone, and I shifted lower, trying to give her what she wanted. “I couldn’t help it. You were so fucking gorgeous, and I’d been with you all day, looking at this body, wanting to feel your skin on mine, wanting your cock inside me.” She laughed breathlessly. “Just like today. God, I’ve wanted this all day.”

“You’ve been wanting this cock all day? You want to come all over it, like a good wife should?”

“Yes!” she screamed, her nails digging into the back of my neck. “Christ, is this real? Are we really married?”

“We are. And I’m going to give my wife everything she wants—and then some.” I stabbed up inside her, heat and pressure building in my lower body. “Fuck, I can’t stop. You make me come so hard…”

“Don’t stop!” She bucked wildly above me, driving me mad with her passion, her beauty, her unabashed desire. “I want to feel my husband come inside me. Come with me, Sebastian…right now, right now, right there, fuck yes—”

Both of us cried out repeatedly as we reached the peak together, our bodies pulsing and clinging, our breathing hard and fast, our hands grasping. “Fuck,” I growled when I could speak again, my heart pounding. “I hate these clothes, I want to feel you closer to me.”

She laughed weakly, tipping her forehead to mine. “Soon.” Dropping a kiss on my lips, she sighed contentedly. “Soon, I promise. I want that too.”

“How much longer do we have to stay?” I squeezed my eyes shut. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t ask. I promised myself I wouldn’t.”

“Not long, baby.” She pulled my head to her chest, and ran her fingers through my hair. “Just another few hours.”

I stiffened and she laughed again. “I’m teasing. I’m ready to go, too. You were so sweet to agree to all this for me. I know you didn’t want it.”

That was true. I’d wanted to elope, or maybe just have a small wedding on the beach with only family, but she’d been dreaming of a big wedding her entire life. I hadn’t had the heart to deny her. “No, I didn’t, but seeing you happy today was worth any anxiety it caused.”

“Thank you.” She hugged me tight.

“Plus I have trouble saying no to you. It could be a problem.”

“Not for me.” She giggled. “But I am grateful. You know that, don’t you?”

“I do.” I kissed the tops of her breasts above the neckline of her gown. “Now let’s get out of here so I can ravage my wife in the comfort of our own home.”

She sighed. “God, I love hearing you say that stuff. It makes me so happy.”

Warmth and peace flooded me, and I silently thanked God for it, and for her. There were few moments in my life when I felt this at ease, but Skylar could always make it happen. “I’m happy too, angel. The happiest I’ve ever been.”

“Really?” She pulled back and looked at me, eyes shining.

“Really. Two years ago, I never thought I’d be able to say that. You changed me. You changed everything.”

“But I never wanted you to change, Sebastian.” She stroked the side of my face. “I fell in love with you exactly the way you were—the way you are. I just didn’t want to see you torture yourself anymore.”

“I know.” I took her by the wrist and kissed her palm. “You’re good for me that way. I still might need the occasional reminder, you know.”

“I know. I’ll be here to give it.” She smiled. “You’re stuck with me now, husband. Forever.”

My throat tightened unexpectedly, and I kissed her lips. “Good.”

Other books in the series:

SomeSortofCrazy150SomeSortOfLove150

Author Info

Melanie HarlowAbout the Author

Melanie Harlow likes her martinis dry, her heels high, and her history with the naughty bits left in. When she’s not writing or reading, she gets her kicks from TV series like VEEP, Game of Thrones, House of Cards, and Homeland. She occasionally runs three miles, but only so she can have more gin and steak.

Melanie is the author of the HAPPY CRAZY LOVE series, the FRENCHED series, and the sexy historical SPEAK EASY duet, set in the 1920s. She lifts her glass to romance readers and writers from her home near Detroit, MI, where she lives with her husband, two daughters, and pet rabbit.

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About Melanie Harlow

Melanie Harlow

Melanie Harlow likes her martinis dry, her heels high, and her history with the naughty bits left in. When she’s not writing or reading, she gets her kicks from TV series like VEEP, Game of Thrones, House of Cards, and Homeland. She occasionally runs three miles, but only so she can have more gin and steak.

Melanie is the author of the HAPPY CRAZY LOVE series, the FRENCHED series, and the sexy historical SPEAK EASY duet, set in the 1920s. She lifts her glass to romance readers and writers from her home near Detroit, MI, where she lives with her husband, two daughters, and pet rabbit.



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