That movement was her first sign of weakness, the first tiny crack in her thick armor, and oh, he was noting it.
“I would love to do that, but I don’t want Morris and Martin to have to explain it to their security company. Either way, I’m the only one that should hear your cries of ecstasy,” he whispered, and pulled her earlobe between his teeth. “Gosh, it’s been a long ten years, and I really want to fuck you, but I bet those nitwits have their ears pressed against the connecting door, waiting to hear you scream.”
She sucked in a breath as he took another step towards her; she could feel his hard muscles, and even harder erection pressing into her soft body. He flexed his hips slightly in a brazen motion. Rochelle swallowed shakily, as she felt his member twitch against her derrière.
“Only I can make you scream the way you should, cara, and you know that,” he stated, before running his tongue over the edge of her earlobe.
Get away; get away; get away; get away…! Her conscience screamed, but her body wouldn’t comply. He was her kryptonite, and he knew that fact all too well.
“Carter, I can’t,” she whispered, arching into him a little more. Carter groaned, as her delectable bottom rubbed against his manhood. “I can’t,” she repeated, sucking in a trembling breath when his lips brushed the sensitive spot behind her ear.
“You can’t deny that you want my hard length inside of you as much as I need your warm muscles clenching around me.” He paused to run his teeth lightly over the spot, causing a shiver to run down her spine, the same time he brought his thigh up between her instinctively parted legs. “Nevertheless, you are more stubborn about it than I am, so I’ll give you the opportunity to choose. If you open the door, without question, I will take you, and I will take you hard, Rochelle. However, if you don’t let me in after five minutes, I will leave. You know where to reach me when you change your mind,” he stated, with a ring of finality in his voice, before pulling away, leaving her strangely bereft. By the time she could pull on a fake composure and turn, his hand was wrapped around the connecting door’s knob.
“What time?” She questioned shakily.
“Does that mean that it’s a foregone decision?” He questioned, his sharp eyes running over her face, lowering, until he stopped at her breasts. She knew just what he saw, as a ghost of a smile passed over his lips; shame fluttered briefly through her cells.
Her nipples were as hard as rocks. If the heaviness and aching were anything to go by, then her breasts were bursting out of her bra, thus, showing through the silky material of her dress. She watched the once ghost of a smile turn into a slow, provocative smirk, that spread comfortably across his face. By all means, Carter wasn’t hiding the fact that he liked every second of the rush that the power he was wielding over her gave him; and oh my, did it anger her. It gave credit to her next outburst, however true she thought it could be.
“Not a chance in hell, Carter.”
“So I guess we’ll be seeing each other elsewhere, very soon then, because I’m not planning to take you anywhere near hell.” His eyes darkened. “Unless you want me to,” he stated, licking his lips. She couldn’t help but respond. Well, her body, not her. She would never fall into that trap again, she thought.
Whatever you say, my dear, her inner sex slave murmured; just ensure that I and mine are pleasured a bit later on.
Blinking, Rochelle snapped the line closed to her inner thoughts, and tried to focus on the domineering man before her.
“I suggest that you stay very far from me,” she snapped, her eyes burning into him, willing him to stop looking at the twin pebbles, which caressed the material that stretched loosely, but sexily, across her chest.
“We’ll see about that, Miss Jones; au revoir,” he murmured, and disappeared to the other side of the door before she could respond.
With unsteady breaths, she slowly contained herself, and reached for what she had carried with her, exiting before Carter could change his mind about the cameras, or before she gave into the wild fluttering of her heart and find him.
Because of those few seconds, Rochelle left the building a lot more flustered than she had been when she had entered, and she was sure of the reason.
✽✽✽
Carter ran a hand through his hair as he watched her reverse from her parking spot far too quickly to hide her unease before speeding away. “She hasn’t moved on.” His words broke the silence in the room with a definite statement and not a question. “But something is holding her back,” he finished in a murmur, looking at Morris, who shrugged as if he had not a clue, before looking away. Somehow his best friend found that odd.
Morris knew something, he realized mentally.
“She does have a valid reason for not trusting you; you are still lying to her, Carter,” Morris stated, and pulled out a seat.
“Rochelle had trusted me without knowing who I am before; it’s something else. I can feel it,” he stated flatly, before looking back sixty stories down to where she had just been.
“Might be the said reason that she hasn’t wanted to speak to you for the past ten years,” Martin suggested, walking towards the window where Carter stood, his stance seemingly relaxed to who didn’t know him better. Carter wasn’t known as the Lion King for nothing.
“Ah, that,” he stated, seemingly to himself, as if satisfied with Martin’s answer, while sliding his hands into his pockets to hide his tightening fists. “She hadn’t even known that I had called. I heard the genuine shock in her voice when I mentioned it, and felt the doubt that had rolled through her body. Her father had been hiding something. He had no other reason for wanting us to part,” he muttered.
“Other than wanting back the face of Hummingbird Club?” Martin suggested.
Carter shook his head, before turning fully to Morris as something dawned to him. “Did you find anything out of the ordinary in any of the PI’s reports?” He asked.
“Nothing that you aren’t already aware of, Carter, but maybe you should ask her,” Morris stated, suggestively, in a calm voice, trying not to give away the fact that he was lying to his most trusted friend; hiding the existence of his only child.
Carter held Morris’ blue gaze longer than necessary to gauge his reaction and he didn’t shift it until he got one. The giveaway, a nervous swallow; Morris should have simply known better. “Give, Morris. You shouldn’t even try to hide anything from me when you’re such a horrible liar,” he drawled and raised a brow.
Morris released a pent-up breath and shook his head. “You’re a pretty intimidating man, Carter, but seriously, I try to transfer what’s necessary to you at all cost,” he stated, and looked away, breaking the contact with Carter to pray that the higher powers didn’t strike him down for implying that the man daughter’s existence was not something for him to necessarily know. Morris released a breath of relief when Carter’s cell rang out before he could ask another question that he knew he wouldn’t be able to answer without giving something away.
Chapter Two
I want to, but…
“I have priorities. Maintaining my daughter is my first.”
—Whitney Houston
ROCHELLE REACHED OUT AND turned off the shower by moving her hand over the motion sensor, automatically turning off the soft music that came from the waterproof sound system. Grabbing a towel, she roughly removed some of the water from her skin before wrapping another warm towel around her slender frame, allowing the warm air from her shower to toy with her hair, giving it loose curls. Drawing a breath, she bypassed the mirror, as she headed to the bedroom. Her cotton pajama top and bottom lay invitingly on the king-sized bed; she was in no party mood tonight. She hadn’t been for some years now.
A sigh passed her lips as she looked at them, but didn’t really see them. Going out would serve him right if he came, she thought darkly. She shrugged, doubting that he would. Carter had more important business to deal with than pursuing her. She was old news to him, an old game, which he no longer wanted, as
he matured to better toys.
With a frustrated sound, she looked away from the PJs, blaming her ruffled state on the fact that she was still reeling from seeing him again after ten years.
If only he knew how much her heart still longed to hear him tell her that he loved her; she was a mess!
She closed her eyes with a sigh of regret at the emotion. Her head was no fool to his charms; it damn well knew better. But though she was angry, bitter and hurt, the love that she had for him was way too strong to stop her very weak body from yielding to his. She swallowed uneasily, and shook her head, realizing mentally that she wasn’t even sure that she wanted to stop herself from yielding to him.
You fool, have you forgotten all that he has done? Her stern conscience questioned, pointing a slender finger at her, and looking down her nose over spectacles too big for her face, as any high school principal would.
What about everything else wonderful that he had done before the accident? Leaving me that time, and disappearing for ten years were the only sins he committed, she snapped back mentally.
You, young lady, are courting with some serious trouble, and it will take another big blow for you to realize, reason warned.
With a frown, Rochelle pushed away her conscience, and focused on what she had been planning to do.
She slid her fingers over the iPad, which controlled everything electronic in the house. Her aim was to click the iTunes app after connecting the device to the stereo system of the apartment. With the rooms sensitized to any movement, the system would automatically turn off when she left one room and flow to the other that she’d step into. However, as her finger glided over the glass surface, something else caught her eyes. She paused briefly to drink in the sight of Carter looking every bit of the playboy that he was renowned for, as his picture popped up on the screen. Morris and Martin were at his side, but she had eyes only for him. Oh, how she had once loved this man. She sucked in a breath when the iTunes app opened as she attempted to caress his face, causing the picture to disappear.
She had shared this apartment with Carter briefly ten years ago, but she’d had no idea that he was still using it. He’d always loved the latest technology, and nothing seemed to have changed in that department, she noted, as she took in the sleek device.
Morris had always informed her of the updates made on the apartment, but always declined her offer to foot the bill. He always claimed that it was a gift, because he was using the apartment as his guinea pig for his new technological discoveries; each time she made a deposit for the rent, the money was returned to her account. She frowned and shook her head as a thought crossed her mind. No doubt Carter was still footing the bill. Morris had told her last month that the apartment had been bought under both her and Carter’s names, so rent had not been accepted. She hadn’t even noticed until then that her account hadn’t dwindled in the last ten years. No doubt another of Carter’s schemes, she grumbled mentally.
Rolling her eyes in annoyance, she placed the electronic device on the nearest flat surface, and dropped the towel, just as the doorbell rang. For a second, panic and excitement raced through her veins, until she read the time. Looking up at the glass clock above the door, she smiled. Papa John’s always delivered on time, she thought. Her tummy growled as if it could smell the tasty morsel that was coming its way already.
Grabbing the towel, she headed for the door, creating a sarong as she walked to it, grabbing her purse off the table by the door. Fishing out enough for an overly generous tip, she replaced the purse and swung open the door, a smile readily on her lips.
“Oh thank heavens, I was so hungry.” Her words dried up in her throat, as she looked up Carter’s six-foot-five-inch frame to his laughing eyes. He had planned this perfectly. How could he have known? She wondered.
“You always did love Papa John’s,” he stated calmly, as if it was an everyday thing for him.
Fire flashed through her eyes, and he chuckled softly when she muttered an unladylike word. Rochelle sucked in a breath as his eyes darkened; her blood rushed downwards, and her breath hitched. She shouldn’t have used that swear.
“So true, Rochelle.” He paused dramatically, and toyed with the edge of the pizza box, as if he was touching her most intimate flesh. She wanted to dig up a really good comeback, but neither her tongue nor her lips would comply willingly. “You did promise to let me do that if you opened the door to me.” He smiled knowingly. “I thought you would have at least ignored me, but to my pleasure, it took only one knock.”
Rochelle drew in a breath as fire ran through her veins as she opened her mouth to tell him exactly what was on her mind, only to be stopped by a long, tanned, well-manicured finger. “Don’t be a spoilsport, Rochelle. A bargain is a bargain.”
Without another word, he pushed her suddenly over-sensitized body, into the apartment, before closing the door.
“Carter, we can’t,” she murmured, reluctantly, looking at the top button of his well-arranged shirt. It only made matters worse, because it reminded her of the times that he had rushed home from work to slam her against the nearest surface with his shirt still fully buttoned. She flicked a look up at his face, and froze; she knew that look in his eyes only too well, there was no way out of this.
Placing the pizza box on the table by the door, he watched her through semi-closed lids, as he began removing his cufflinks. He saw the giveaway tremor of her bottom lip, the shallow gasps of breath, and the flush in her cheeks; she was already well and truly hot for him.
“Oh, I can assure you that we can, Rochelle; let me remind you how.”
How did she get there? He pondered, as with two long strides, he covered the distance between them and pulled her against his hard frame.
“I promised to fuck you, Rochelle, and hard. I never fall back on my promises,” he whispered against her ear.
What about never leaving you? Her conscience spat, but all coherent thoughts flew out her head, as he threaded a path to her luscious lips. Cupping her chin, he held her face still.
“You are entitled to ten years worth of fucking, and I’m going to ensure that you enjoy every second of it as will I.”
As the words left his mouth and his lips brushed hers, Carter felt the rush of something so hot throughout his body, that he almost wished that he wasn’t in it. He couldn’t breathe to save his life and he didn’t care. Without hesitation, he deepened the kiss, reconnecting to something so essential that had separated them for ten years. He felt like a starving man before a grand spread.
Sharing a breath, he took her even farther with the slant of his head, knowing her weak spots, and daring to spread them open for his inspection. Rochelle intentionally raised her hands to his chest to stop him, but instead, they ended up threading their way through his hair, leaving ripples of wild, dark curls in their wake. As soon as a sigh passed from her lips to his, he knew that he had her, hook, line, and sinker.
Releasing her chin, he shrugged out of his navy jacket and dragged off his tie; easing back only slightly, to allow them to fall to the ground. A whimper escaped her lips as he crushed her against his frame, releasing a groan as her soft mounds crushed into the wall of his chest. Sexual tension was sparking and bouncing off every surface in the room at such high frequencies, that he wondered how they didn’t explode from what was within them.
“Rochelle,” he murmured, his slightly faded accent thickening. Devouring her lips, he pressed her against the door, sliding an Armani clad leg between her thighs.
His voice held the note of something so filled with emotions, that not even she could dare to interpret its meaning. Instead, she focused on what was happening between them; the essential part of what had created what they had been, uncertain of what she was searching for and if she was searching at all.
Rochelle tugged his shirt from his pants and let out a frustrated breath when it wouldn’t rip.
Damn them for sewing the buttons on so securely, she curse internally.
With trembli
ng hands, she attempted to unbutton his shirt, only to stop at the second button when his lips brushed her neck.
“Fuck, Carter. My goodness!” She gasped, and dug her nails into his biceps as a sharp, liquid fire, ran straight to her groin when his fingers brushed over her nipples through the thin towel. By then, she knew that she was too far gone to stop. “Now, Carter,” she demanded, her nails sinking deeper into his hard, bulging muscles as her knees began trembling, her body begging for release.
Nothing between them had ever been slow or gentle, and she knew that after ten years of suffocated, insatiable hunger, that was not going to change. No doubt blood would be drawn, as it always was; whether by teeth or nails. Reaching down, she tugged at his belt and swore in frustration, when it wouldn’t budge. So, she eased down his zipper, releasing him; not once breaking the connection between their bodies. A smile brushed her lips when he bucked against her as her hand wrapped around his hard, bulging length before her mouth opened wide, struggling for breath, as his teeth grazed her temple. Reaching for her lower globes, he hoisted her against the wall so that she could wrap her legs around his waist.
“I’ll take it slow next time, I promise,” he murmured against her neck, as she positioned him, his hands braced against the wall trembling.
He fisted his hand in her hair as she sunk onto him and tightened her legs around his waist. Struggling for a breath, he paused, savoring the feel of her around him after such a long time.
Ten years, he had waited ten fucking years for this. He groaned when she shifted and pulled him closer, eager to start what he was hoping they could finish together, her breathing harsh.
“Carter, by the heavens, if you don’t move…” Her voice trailed off, and a gasp escaped her lips when he eased back and slammed into her with one smooth thrust.
Rochelle threw her head back and dug her heels into the hard muscles of his buttocks, as she felt her world unraveling with each movement. His lips on her neck, fingers on her nipple, and the new growth of his pelvic hair rubbing on her clit, were her cyanide pills. Her nails dug into the muscles of his back as his tempo increased, and she felt the delicious, sharp sensation, run throughout her body the same time that she felt liquid beneath her fingers. Carter let her name rip from his lips as they both combusted, his legs trembling.
From A Harlot To A Princess Page 2
