“Grab a seat,” she said, then turned back to the counter, where she put on a pair of disposable gloves, and continued buttering candy bar molds. This was something I’d seen her do plenty of times, but the amount of care she put into it always made me smile. I pulled a barstool into the kitchen and sat down, knowing that if I offered to help she would simply wave me away. I watched her pour a pot of molten chocolate into the molds, carefully filling them halfway before painstakingly added a layer of caramel, then covered them with another layer of chocolate, which she smoothed to an even surface before she pushed them aside to cool.
“What are you making?”
Viv flinched, almost as if she’d forgotten I was there, then turned around, smoothing the simple black scarf that was keeping her hair back from her face. “A new recipe that I hope to put in the shop. This batch is for taste testing among my friends.” She pulled off her gloves, tossing them into the trash before she leaned against the counter and faced me. “Dark chocolate, cinnamon, and ancho and chipotle chilies. Oh, and a vanilla chipotle caramel filling.”
“The butter caramel?”
She grinned. “Does any other kind exist?”
“No,” I chuckled. “I guess it doesn’t.”
Inwardly, I smiled about that. How she had taken me from someone who swore he didn’t like sweets to keeping a box of the Guilty Pleasures flavor of the week, I had no idea.
“So… have you programmed the latest, greatest innovation in technology yet?” she asked, walking over to the stove to stir one of the pots.
I shrugged. “Still working on the spam database checker.”
“Mmm… I take it that the email you set up is still being inundated with offers for hot local sex?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Ah,” she said, holding up a finger. “That depends on who is offering. You cannot convince me that “horny soccer mom who wants you now” is not appealing, Carter.”
I laughed, and after a moment passed of trying to maintain her serious expression, Viv did too. And… damn, it felt good to laugh with her like this. And it felt good that she was comfortable enough to joke with me again. And it felt damned good to know that she was listening when I told her about my programming project, and that she actually remembered.
“I want you to taste this,” Viv said, pulling a plastic spoon from the box she kept on her counter for sanitary tasting. She dipped the spoon in the pot that held her caramel, then into the one with the chocolate, holding her hand underneath it to catch any drips as she brought it to me.
“Wait… this isn’t the one with the peppers is it?” I asked, when she pulled the spoon from my mouth. “This tastes like…”
She grinned, then took a fresh spoon from the box and dipped it again. “This same flavor combo of the truffle I made for you, only… not in truffle form.”
“I knew it was familiar. Still tastes good.”
“Does it?” She asked, offering me the spoon again. It took me a second to realize she was standing right between my legs, so close that if I moved any closer, we would be touching. I wanted more than anything to pull her close, but the memory of the look on her face “that” night, like I’d stabbed her right through the heart, made me keep my hands securely tethered to my knees as she slipped the spoon into my mouth.
Then she kissed me.
There was no lead up, no hesitation on her part before her tongue was in my mouth, her arms draped over my shoulders. I didn’t give myself time to second-guess it. I gripped her by the hips and pulled her closer, partaking in the sweet taste of her blended with the rich flavor of the chocolate.
I didn’t want to let her go. We stayed like that, teasing, caressing, savoring each other with kiss after kiss until she finally pulled away, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. I’d pulled that scarf off her head somewhere around the second kiss, and her hair was wild around her face, making her look so sexy with her kiss-swollen lips and creamy caramel thighs on display that I could barely take it.
“Take off your pants.”
I swallowed hard, then ran my tongue over my suddenly dry lips as I processed what she said.
“Carter,” she said, stepping closer again to grab at the buckle on my belt. “Take these off.”
“Why?”
“Because I want you.”
Shit.
How many times had a similar combination of those words been the downfall of a man who was trying not to go there with a woman he really wanted to go there with? But this was Viv. Sweet, gorgeous Viv, who could ask me to do any manner of outlandish shit and I would do it in a heartbeat, especially when she was looking at me like if I didn’t start making moves soon, she was gonna take them off for me.
So I stood up, and with her hovering barely a foot away, I toed off my shoes, and took off the damn pants. She smiled at me then, a sneaky, provocative little grin that made my hands sweat and my heart race. I watched in awe as she stuck her entire hand in the pot of chocolate then walked over to me, completely disinterested in the mess being made on the floor. With her clean hand, she yanked down my boxers, and the next moment she was stroking me, the warm chocolate dripping through her fingers as she went.
Well… damn.
“Does this feel good?” she asked, pushing the words out in a breathy whisper that somehow made me harder than I already was. I wanted to answer, but then she dropped to her knees in front of me, and my throat went dry. She took me in her mouth, and I barely remembered what the fuck talking was, because she was sucking that chocolate off me like her life depended on it.
Fucking beautiful.
That was the thought that played in my head over and over again as I watched her. Yeah, it felt fantastic, but I was watching her, tuned in to her, and every little moan of pleasure she gave made it better. Every time her eyes found mine, gauging my reactions to adjust her actions accordingly made my heart surge. I buried my hand in her hair, gently guiding her back and forth as her tongue swirled around me, and she sucked harder, and she took me deeper until she pushed me over the edge.
When she stood up, wiping the corners of her mouth, I immediately went for the waistband of her shorts, intending to return the favor, but she pushed me away.
“Shower,” she said, pushing her hair back from her face. “So that we can do other things. You have to make sure that all of the chocolate is off.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “Oh… yeah. Okay. Do you wanna come with me?”
“I’m going to clean up a bit in here first. I will be there in a minute.” I hesitated as she turned to get a towel from the sink, but then she looked up again, rolling her eyes in playful exasperation. “Would you go? I swear, I will be there.”
I nodded, and went, even though I still felt a twinge of uncertainty. A few minutes later, I felt the shift in the air as the bathroom door opened, followed by the distinct feeling of her presence. Pulling the shower curtain back, I peeked out, watching Viv as she surveyed herself in the mirror. Her shoulders were slumped, and I noticed for the first time the puffiness under her eyes. She closed them as she inhaled deep, then held that breath, and when she finally exhaled, she opened her eyes, and her gaze locked with mine through the mirror.
For a moment, neither of us moved. I was half in, half out of the hot shower spray, wondering what she was doing. Then she blinked, and when she opened her eyes again, she smiled. She was okay. We were okay.
When she stepped into the shower with me, she didn’t say anything. The tub was small, so we couldn’t help bumping elbows as we washed, then took turns rinsing off. Once we were clean, I backed her against the corner, angling her chin up so I could reach her lips, kissing her there before I ventured lower, to her neck, then her collarbone, then sat down on the built-in shower seat and pulled her in front of me to reach her gorgeous breasts.
Today’s nipple rings were tiny silver angel wings, a gift I’d given her after seeing her looking at them online. “You like them?” she asked, biting her lip as I tra
ced a circle around them with my tongue.
“I do… were those a gift?” I pulled one nipple into my mouth, suckling as I pushed my fingers into the non-shower-related dampness between her thighs. Her knees buckled, but she righted herself quickly, grinding against my hand as she brought her fingers to her other nipple.
“Yeah,” she moaned. “Some guy.”
Viv yelped, then giggled when I reached around her to smack her on the behind. “Just some guy, huh?” The water from the shower spray wasn’t touching either of us, but the steam created by the hot water kept the air at a comfortable temperature. I grinned as I lifted her leg, pulling her closer to drape it over my shoulder. She was trembling already, and when I put my mouth on her she lurched forward, nearly losing her balance on the wet shower floor. I caught her at the thighs, keeping her close as she clutched handfuls of my locs, still pressing herself into my face, unaware that she’d almost fallen. I laughed a little in my head, then kept going, luxuriating in her uniquely her flavor and aroma. I missed this, nearly as much as I missed her, and it didn’t have shit to do with sexual gratification — not mine, at least.
To be very clear, I loved good sex. Who doesn’t? But something about Viv, when she came… goddamn, she was a sight — and sound— to behold. She wasn’t a screamer, not even close. Viv orgasmed with her eyes shut tight, in a symphony of soft, sexy sounds, harmonizing breathy moans and low purrs, whimpering my name while her thighs quaked, and her body trembled. Then she opened her eyes, and she looked so euphoric that I wanted to make it happen again. And again. Just like now.
When she went limp in my arms, I shut off the shower and picked her up. I grabbed one of the oversized bath towels I’d teased her about before on the way out of the bathroom, spreading it across the bed before I laid her down. The city lights shining through the window made her skin glow, and I stood back for a moment, just admiring her, flawless, and sweet, and divinely naked.
“Why are you so perfect?” I asked, positioning myself over her on the bed.
She pressed her lips together, grimacing as she averted her gaze to something over my shoulder. “Don’t do that.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Don’t do what?”
“Say those types of things to me.” She shook her head, then opened and closed her mouth a few times like she was struggling for the right words. Finally, she brought her gaze back to mine. “Don’t tell me things you do not mean.”
Frowning, I pushed aside the damp curls that were sticking to her forehead. “I don’t say things I don’t mean, Viv.”
“Carter,” she pleaded, reaching up to cup my face. “Let’s… just make love to me, okay?”
Something about the way she said that made my chest clench. I looked in her eyes, searching for any clue to how she was feeling. Usually, those big browns of hers were open windows right into her psyche, but tonight they were closed and shuttered, leaving me in the dark.
I opened my mouth to say something, but her finger fell over my lips. With the other hand, she reached between us to grab me, then angled her hips up for me to enter. It took every bit of willpower I had not to immediately explode, enveloped in her snug, dewy warmth. Her fingernails dug into my hips, encouraging me to move, so after a moment, I did. I went slowly at first, watching the litany of emotions that played on her face as her body welcomed me, clutching me tight as I pressed in, grudgingly releasing when I pulled back.
Viv’s eyes were open, but just barely, lips parted, letting out airy little coos of pleasure like each stroke was taking her breath away. I kissed her, and she eagerly responded, giving her lips and tongue generously as she raked her hands over my shoulders, chest, and back. Then came one of my favorite parts of sex with Viv — I remembered telling her once that it felt like unlocking a new level— when she really came alive, enthusiastically rolling her hips to meet me stroke for stroke. It wasn’t until she was fully relaxed, past the initial feeling that she described to me as a pleasurable pain when I first pushed inside that her body really opened up, inviting me deeper.
I was aching to tell her how fucking beautiful she looked, eyes wide open now, panting and gasping as her nails bit into my shoulders. Burrowing in as deeply as I could, I lowered myself so that my chest was flush against hers, burying my face into the crook of her neck. I pulled her skin between my lips, nipping her before I soothed each bite with my tongue. Her sweet body gripped me tight every time, and a few moments later, I felt the trembling of her thighs against my hips, warning me that she was about to reach her peak.
When I looked up, tears were streaming down her face, but her head was thrown back in pleasure. With her arm around my neck, she held me close when she came, pressing her face into my shoulder as her body pulsed around me, pulling me over the edge with her. I shifted positions so I wasn’t crushing her under my weight, then pushed away the hair that had fallen over her face. Again, I looked at her, waiting for her open her eyes and give me that blissful look, like always.
It never came.
Instead, she kept her eyes shut tight as her body shook with quiet sobs. I held her close, not knowing what to do or say, but I realized right then, this wasn’t okay. Viv wasn’t okay. We were definitely, definitely not okay.
— & —
I was stupid for agreeing to this shit.
Dumb as hell.
That, and only that was perfectly clear to me as I propped my elbow on the dinner table at my father’s house, dropping my chin into my hand. Why my mother and stepmother tortured themselves by bothering to be in the same room together, I had no idea. But, Denise — my stepmother — had invited Rod and I to Sunday dinner, and since my mom and wannabe Obama were in town visiting Rod, it only made sense that they were invited as well.
They were arguing, which was nothing new, so I tuned them out, allowing my mind to drift back to a few nights ago, with Viv. She let me hold her until she was done crying, then pretty much immediately shifted back into that fake-happy state that I thought we were past, and sent me home. It wasn’t a pleasant memory, not at all, and I couldn’t get it out of my head.
Four days had passed since then, and the shift was obvious. Now, Viv wasn’t trying anymore. She hadn’t returned any calls, hadn’t responded to a text, and she definitely wasn’t answering when I knocked, so the only thing that made sense from here was to let her have her space. As much as I hated that, hated the thought of just sitting back and watching while she pulled away… what else could I do? I wasn’t about to harass her, and I couldn’t force her to talk to me. Especially not when what she wanted from me was obvious.
“Carter, I asked you a question.”
I scratched my eyebrow, groaning as I looked up at my mother, Angela. Beside her, No-bama (Tim) was shoveling food in his mouth like he’d never eaten before.
“Sorry, Mom. What was the question?”
“I was asking if you’d made any more progress with your programming. Technology is such a hot field right now, I’m sure you could launch your own business and do well. Carter has always been such a smart boy,” she said, smiling proudly as she shifted the direction of her words to Tim.
“Yes, my son has always been brilliant,” Denise chimed in.
Here we fucking go.
“His father and I were so proud when he decided to channel that into keeping the barbershop open. Such a wonderful young man, with a good sense of loyalty, and family, and clean values. We really raised him right.” She gave Angela a nasty little self-satisfied grin as she reached for the plate of biscuits in the middle of the table. “He wouldn’t abandon his father’s dream.”
“Yes, Carter’s father was a good man,” Angela said through clenched teeth, barely holding her composure. “But this is Carter’s life. He’s always loved tinkering with computers, building games from nothing, figuring out—”
Denise snorted as she interrupted. “Oh, I know that. I bought his first computer for him. I’m guessing you know because he told you stories, since you were too busy getting—”<
br />
“Denise!” I said, shaking my head at her.
Her nostrils were flared when she turned to me, eyebrow raised. “Boy, who are you calling by their first name? I’m your mother, I—”
“I’m his mother, excuse you,” Angela snapped. “You can throw your little jabs, but don’t you forget it.”
Denise let out an ugly peal of laughter. “Ha! You’re worried about me forgetting you’re his mother? Did you forget how he ended up here with me and his father in the first place?”
“You old, miserable, bitter—”
“Watch what you say to me in my house, I didn’t have to invite you here with your little boy toy. I only did it for the sake of my son.”
“For his sake? Please! I don’t know why you really invited me, and I damn sure don’t know why I accepted. I’ve been putting up with your bullshit for the last twenty-five years, and I’m sick of—”
I tuned them out. I’d been listening to them go at it for most of my life, none of this was new.
“Rod,” I said, poking him in the side to get his attention as his head swung back and forth between Angela and Denise. “Let’s get out of here man, go shoot some hoops.”
In the backyard, there was a slab of concrete and a basketball hoop my dad had put in the week after I came to live with him permanently. He didn’t seem keen on the fact that I’d choose a pen and notepad or a computer screen and keyboard over a ball of any kind, on any day. He blamed it on my mother, and sent me outside for an hour every day to play on that hoop, and eventually, I got pretty good. Good enough to be on my high school team, which balanced out the stuff that would have gotten me teased and labeled as a nerd.
I grabbed the ball from my old room and led Rod outside, grateful for the hoodie I’d worn to shield against the early winter weather. We played in silence for several long minutes before Roderick caught the ball, tossing it between his hands as he spoke.
“So, about Vivienne… dude, she is bad.”
Didn't Mean To Love You (Serendipitous Love Book 2) Page 12
