by C. M. Albert
She accepted the glass of wine I handed her. She took a small sip and smiled. “Delicious,” she said. “A little sweet, a little dry. Just how I like it.”
I couldn’t help but stare at her mouth as she talked. Her lips fit the rim like a second skin, and I was suddenly envious of the wine for having all the fun in her mouth.
“What?” she asked, oblivious to my reaction to her.
“You’re just—” I didn’t know how to finish. She’d said she wanted to take it slow. Yet here I was, wanting to tear her damn clothes off less than two minutes after she stepped through the door. “You’re complicated. In a good way. Not like what I expected.”
She grinned as she walked toward me. She was close. Too close. I could smell cloves. Something like cinnamon and oranges. The two smells might not have normally gone together in my world. But on Presley, they drove me fucking insane.
“Carter, I feel like some of this is my fault. Can we sit?” she asked, batting those large, green eyes up at me. She had little to no makeup on and, quite frankly, didn’t need a stich. But her eyelids shimmered, and her lashes were long and black. They reminded me of the mossy green ponds on the island.
How could I say no?
We made our way to the living room, and I watched as she soaked up the architecture there, too. “If you love design so much, how come you didn’t go into it?”
“I loved numbers more. What about you? What did Carter end up studying in college?”
“I’m not sure I would have called it studying per se,” I joked. Though, I’d done a lot better than I imagined I would. “I double majored in business and communications and minored in marketing.”
She nodded, running her fingers over the exposed brick wall behind the seating area that faced the large, floor-to-ceiling windows. I suddenly wanted to use the built-in privacy shading so I could pin her up against the wall and grind against her until she moaned into my mouth again.
But Presley was not like the other women who had come in and out of my life. None of whom were serious. All of whom were a bundle of fun and easy to part ways with when the fun times were over.
She curled up on the cream-colored couch and patted for me to join her. I sat down, my arm draping over the back of the sofa as she turned to face me, one leg tucked under the other. I loved how she made herself comfortable here. She was starting to loosen up around me.
“I’m sorry I was so bratty when I was a kid,” she said, her eyes twinkling. She didn’t look sorry at all.
“Oh yeah?” I said, running my fingers over her shoulder. Her body responded with a small shiver and I grinned.
“But you were kind of arrogant. Still are,” she said, raising a brow at me.
“Arrogant in a sexy, I-want-to-rip-his-clothes-off kind of way?” I asked hopefully.
“No, as in—confident. I can see now that it’s more confidence than arrogance, really.”
I didn’t feel so confident when I was around Presley for some reason. In every other aspect of my life? Sure. I’d built my life from the ground up, and I was damn proud of it. Nothing had been handed to me. Not that it was Presley’s fault that her father dumped his mammoth fortune on her. But every part of my success was mine.
“So, you were military?” she asked, nodding to the dog tags that rested on my chest. I’d opted for simple tonight, too. Jeans and a black T-shirt.
“Yeah,” I said quietly. I didn’t really like talking about it. I’d gone into intel, and I’d learned more about the human condition than I ever could’ve imagined. And none of it was the rainbows and butterflies kind of life Presley had lived. We’d stopped terrorist movements and threats to US soil on a daily basis. And they weren’t all from people like the ones who are portrayed in the media. It was hard to know sometimes who was the real threat: outsiders, or the dangerous men living within our own borders.
But it sure as hell wasn’t something I was discussing on night one with Presley. I’d never discussed it with a woman before and wasn’t sure I ever would.
Presley saw that I’d put up some walls, and her eyes softened. She reached out and took my hand, moving closer to me on the couch. “It’s okay, Carter. We don’t have to talk about it.”
I nodded, shoving down the anger, hurt, and betrayal I carried around with me. I didn’t want to talk about it later. I wanted to taste her again.
I needed to taste her.
“Presley, I know you wanted to take things slow, and I completely respect that, but I—”
She didn’t let me finish. She’d inched closer and wrapped her arms around my neck. The soft fabric of her T-shirt brushed my skin, and she was just inches from my lips. I didn’t move. I needed her to take this at her own pace. Otherwise, I’d fuck things up. Because the truth was—I wanted everything she had to give me.
Her mouth brushed mine, her velvety soft tongue sliding over my hungry mouth. She kissed my lips again and again, asking me with her body and her tongue to open the fuck up. I could taste a hint of the cinnamon I’d smelled earlier, and I wanted to swim in it.
I groaned, making Presley giggle.
“Something funny, princess?” I asked, opening my eyes.
She playfully bit my lower lip and climbed in my lap. It wasn’t what I was expecting, but I loved the way her sit bone burned into my thigh. She trailed kisses off my mouth and to my cheek, holding my jaw in her hands as she kissed up my neck and to my ears.
I was about to fucking explode, and all Presley did was giggle again.
I grabbed her hands and pinned them down, her body stilling in my lap. I could hear her quick, shallow breaths close to my ear. “All right. What’s so funny, P?”
“Oh, nothing,” she said casually. “But, for the record, who’s moaning into who’s mouth now?”
I was screwed.
In that moment, I knew I didn’t just have to worry about my heart around this one. If I wasn’t careful, bratty, little Presley Kincaid was going to be the actual death of me.
Death by fragile bomb.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Presley
TO SAY I was disappointed when Carter lifted me off his lap and plopped me solidly onto the couch was an understatement. I was hoping for more of those delicious kisses I’d stolen this time. And, boy, did it feel good to be the one in charge. I think I caught Carter completely off guard because he seemed flustered after that. I’d never had a chance to take my sexual power for a test drive, and I suddenly saw the appeal.
He fed me dinner—takeout from a favorite steakhouse that he had delivered. Between the baked sweet potato drizzled in a honey, cinnamon, and butter sauce; the long, crisp spears of asparagus; and the tender, bacon-wrapped filet with au jus sauce, my taste buds were in overdrive and my tummy was in heaven. We sat and talked some more about life and what we’d both been up to the last ten or so years—minus the military years, of course. Which was okay by me. I suspected the responsibility and aftermath of service could weigh heavy on even the strongest soul. I would let him share more in his own time.
When we were done, I looked at him across the table and smiled. The night had been easier than I expected. I was pleasantly surprised.
“So,” I said, knowing I should probably go before I did something I would regret. And I was one breath away from doing just that.
“So,” he said back, winking at me. “I have something fun planned if you can stay a little longer.”
He got up and took my hand, leading me into a small library off the living room. It, too, had a steel wall separating it from the living space. He pulled me inside and I inhaled, smelling the rich binding of floor-to-ceiling books. My kryptonite.
“Oh, yeah? And what’s that?”
“Tell me you’ll stay,” he said, staring at my mouth, “just for a little longer.”
He hooked his fingers into the belt loops of my jeans and ya
nked my hips closer to his body. I knew I shouldn’t stay a minute longer. I’d already gotten the assignment from Sylvia, and I’d been too chicken to mention it yet.
He reached one of his hands up and cupped the back of my head, forcing me to look up and into his dark brown eyes. They were full of amusement and heat. He slowly backed me up until my shoulders met the steel wall. I was pinned between a solid slab of steel and a solid slab of muscle. He slid his knee between my legs, pressing them open just a bit. My breath caught when both of his hands pressed against the wall on either side of my head, and he grinned, moving even closer to my mouth.
“Well, princess?”
Say no. Say no.
“Yes,” I breathed out, praying he would lower his head and kiss me again.
Instead, he pulled back and took my hands in his. My heart was still rapid-fire beating out of my chest from his closeness and my anticipation when he backed away from me.
I closed my eyes, feeling like a damn fool.
Until he led me over to a card table, where a bottle of tequila and a deck of Uno cards were waiting. Holy shit. I was in trouble.
OF COURSE I killed him at Uno. I was the Queen of Cards! By the time we were done, I had tears of laughter spilling over and a sweet buzz burning through my veins. I’d never spent so much time with Carter, and I was finding the more I did, the more I liked—beyond just the surface.
“Well,” he said, trying to remain composed, “don’t I get to see your victory dance again?”
I lost it, laughing so hard. “Oh, god. No. Please tell me I didn’t do my victory dance?”
“But you did,” he said. He leaned back in his chair, his ankle crossed over his knee. He nodded toward the tabletop. “Up you go.”
“You want me—to get up there? And dance?”
My mouth went dry.
He nodded, his eyes penetrating.
Oh, screw it.
I shucked off my boots and used the chair to climb on top of the solid oak table. I kicked the cards off with my socked feet and started boogying. It was silly at first, like I’d just made a touchdown. But when I met Carter’s eyes, my insides burned with the way he was watching me. I’d never felt sexier in my entire life.
I held his gaze, then slowly started swaying my body. I’d had enough shots to loosen up and lose some of my normal inhibitions. I crossed my arms over my torso and ran them up and down my sides as I moved to the imaginary music in my head. Then I grasped the bottom of my T-shirt and found myself pulling it up over my head before I had time to second guess myself.
Heat pooled in my belly when the look in Carter’s eyes went from heated to primal. I didn’t really have anything to compare it to, but I knew he wanted me. I knew if I gave him the green light, he would devour me. His eyes dragged from my gaze, down my neck, to my collarbone, then trailed to my flimsy lace bra. I was smaller than Lauren and Willa by a landslide. But the way his tongue traced his bottom lip as he watched me made me realize he didn’t care in the least. He was enjoying what he saw.
I turned, shimmying my butt as I glanced over my shoulder at him. Then I slowly unhooked my bra, dropping it to the card table. Carter groaned, but I didn’t look at him. Instead, I closed my eyes and lifted my arms straight in the air. I clasped my hands together, slowly swaying my body side to side as I dropped down into a squat and slowly rose back up again. The tequila was doing wonders for my self-confidence.
“Presley,” he warned, “you’re gonna need to stop.”
I swung my hair off my shoulder as I turned back to look at him again. This time, he was standing. His cock was rock hard in his jeans and he did nothing to hide it.
“Or what?”
He walked forward, sliding his hands up the front of my thighs as he rested his cheek against the back of my legs. “Or I’m going to give you a whole lot more than a kiss on our first date.”
I don’t know where the instinct came from, but I reached up and cupped my breasts as I pressed my backside farther into Carter’s embrace. Before I knew what was happening, he’d spun me around, yanked me off the table, and had me in a fireman’s carry over her shoulder. I couldn’t help myself. I giggled in delight.
He grabbed the bottle of tequila and handed it to me as he marched out of the room.
“Wait—where are we going?”
“We’re moving this party,” he said gruffly, smacking my ass.
“Ouch!” I cried out. But dear god, why did it make my insides ache for more? What was happening to me?
He flopped me down onto his massive, low bed. The room surprised me. It had the modern aesthetic of the rest of his house, but it was darker, moodier. Thick slabs of reclaimed wood lined the wall behind his bed. The headboard itself was low and dark gray. The furniture was sparse, but richly made. Masculine, but understated. Just like Carter.
He yanked me to the edge of the bed and my body shook under his gaze. My breasts were exposed, and I reached up to cover them. He pulled my hands away in one swift movement, pinning them above my head. We breathed deep like this in each other’s space, his lips so close I could swear I felt them brush mine.
“Stay exactly like this,” he said. “Don’t move.”
I wasn’t sure I could if I tried.
Yes, I’d had men see me naked before during clumsy foreplay in college. But I never let it go too far. It was more curiosity and heavy petting than desire or outcome. And the chemistry hadn’t been so . . . intense. All consuming.
This fucking burned me alive from the inside out.
He took my chin in his mouth and sucked, his tongue tasting my skin. My nipples pebbled, and I moaned somewhere deep in my throat. I wanted to close my eyes, but I also wanted to see this demigod as he paid tribute to my body. How could I do this to him? Make him want my body this way when he could have anyone?
His warm mouth trailed down my neck, suckling the soft indentation where it meets my collarbone. He stared down at my breasts, and I had to force myself not to turn my head away under his intense scrutiny.
“Goddamn, you’re beautiful, Presley.”
I closed my eyes then. I couldn’t focus on the words, the heat, the feel of his mouth all at the same time. My skin ached for his touch in ways I didn’t understand.
He cupped my breasts, kneading them with his large, firm hands. His thumb and pointer finger rolled my nipples like an expert, and lightning shot to my core. I knew if I touched myself, I’d be wet.
Something cold hit my nipples, dripping down the side of my body. I opened my eyes to find Carter grinning wickedly before he flicked his tongue over my wet bud.
“What was that?” I gasped.
“Tequila,” he said, drawing my nipple deeper into his mouth and sucking it hard. I ached to bring my hands down so I could run my fingers through his dark, tousled hair. But he took his time, running circles over my nipple with long, wet strokes of his tongue, until I thought I’d lose my mind with need.
“Carter,” I cried, unsure how much more of this I could take. Or when I should put an end to it. If I should put an end to it. I was a grown adult. Maybe it was time to stop hiding behind my virginity.
As he suckled, he massaged my other breast, gently tugging upward on the nipple as he pinched it hard between his fingers. Oooh! There! I wanted to cry out. But I didn’t. I let the heat pool between my legs as I pressed my eyelids closed, my body panting as stars exploded behind my lids.
Oh. My. God.
So that’s what an orgasm from someone else felt like.
His kissing slowed, and he let my nipple pop from his mouth, wet and swollen. I would have love marks on my breasts later—something I’d never had before. The idea thrilled me.
Still, I wasn’t sure if I was doing the right thing, rushing into things with Carter. “Is this really a good idea?” I asked.
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
> His mouth moved lower.
He flicked that warm tongue of his inside my belly button, his hands gripping my hips. Then I watched as he poured a small puddle of tequila onto my stomach. I gasped, trying not to wiggle and have it spill all over the bed. “Your skin tastes fucking delicious, Presley. We’re both adults. Besides, I’m just finishing the ‘loser’s shot’ you told me I needed to take.”
He bent his head, his fingers digging into my flesh as he sucked up the warm, brown liquid. Goose bumps covered my body from head to toe. His tongue didn’t stop after the shot, though. He traced my belly button, kissed my stomach, nibbled on my hips. Then he lowered his head, pressing his forehead just below my belly button and groaning. The pressure of his head there—just above my pubis bone—made me press my hips up off the bed, urgently needing to get closer to Carter. I grabbed his hair in my hands, not sure why or what I was asking for. I just knew that my insides throbbed like never before.
He took my hands from his hair and pinned them to my sides as he stood. “I said to keep your hands where they were. Did you listen?”
I was so shocked I didn’t know how to respond. He’d been serious?
“I—it just felt so good. I needed to touch you.”
I’d never been so forward with a man. But then again, I’d only been with boys, if I was being honest with myself. Not one of those boys knew how to do anything like what Carter was doing to my body. And damn if it didn’t make me want more.
“Do you need a spanking, Presley?”
My eyes grew large and I bit my lower lip, remembering the feel of his hand on my ass earlier. I shook my head slowly, saying no. But my insides screamed, Liar! I gripped the bedspread so I wouldn’t move my hands again, but I wasn’t sure what Carter wanted. What he was going to do next.
He slowly lifted his shirt over his head, and I thought I was going to pass out. His abs, and that damn V, were even more deadly and sinful in person. My pussy was full-on throbbing now, not sure what it needed, but knowing what it liked.
