Lithium Tides: A Lithium Springs Novel

by Carmel Rhodes

  “How else am I supposed to see the screen? And trust me, when I invade your personal space, you’ll know it, and you’ll be screaming louder than that,” he warned, nodding in the direction of the bedroom.

  “You won’t be invading my personal space ever again.”

  “If you say so, now stop stalling.”

  “I am not,” she pouted. Kensie opened the file and pushed the computer between them. CT pulled the laptop onto his lap and began making changes to the layout. “Hey, what are you doing?” she asked, reaching for her computer.

  He swatted her hand away. “I’m just cleaning it up a bit.”

  “So, now you are a professional résumé builder?”

  “No, but having tattoos doesn’t mean I’m an idiot.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” she said, feeling her cheeks heat. “Just curious to know how a drummer learned so much about formatting a résumé?”

  A mischievous grin spread across his face, but his eyes stayed focused on the screen. “Juvie. They made us take a workshop.”

  “Juvie?”

  “A juvenile detention center.”

  “Like jail?” she squealed.

  He nodded. “Technically yes, but less Oz, more Orange is the New Black.”

  Kensie pulled her knees into her chest and watched with fascination as he transformed her boring résumé. “So, you’re a criminal?”

  He chuckled. “No, I was young and mad at the world. I did some stupid shit, but I don’t regret it. It’s how I met Ry. When did you start at CMC?” he asked, still working on the document.

  “July, two years ago…what kind of stupid shit?” She couldn’t help her curiosity. This man was a walking, talking contradiction.

  “Felony vandalism. I trashed some kid’s car the summer before my senior year of high school,” he said nonchalantly.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t even remember. I was a jackass when I was younger.”

  “You’re still a jackass,” she mumbled, picking at her nails.

  “Touché, but now I’m a jackass who knows how to control his temper.”

  “Because of juvie?”

  “No, because of the band. For the first time, I actually have something to lose.”

  “How many instruments do you play?” she asked, changing the subject.

  “Only three: drums, guitar, and piano.”

  “Only three? Slacker.”

  “It’s not that impressive.” He continued typing. “I’ve played the piano for as long as I can remember. My mom insisted we all learn; me, my brother and sister. I started playing the drums when I was thirteen and the guitar just a few years ago. I’m not that great, but Javi and Ry are teaching me. Music is the only thing I’ve ever been any good at.”

  “You’re good at this,” she offered, pointing to the screen. He looked at her, mischief twinkling in his blue eyes. Kensie groaned, realizing her mistake.

  “What else am I good at?” he grinned.

  “I am not going to say it.” She did her best to wipe the smile off her face.

  He was impossible.

  The worst.

  “You know it’s true,” he teased.

  Kensie pressed her lips into a thin line.

  “Say it.”

  She shook her head from side to side, her ponytail slapping her in the face with each rotation of her neck.

  “Say. It,” he gritted, setting the laptop aside. His face was menacing, like a lion ready to pounce. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

  “Nope.” Kensie quirked a brow. She wasn’t budging.

  CT lunged forward so quickly she lost her balance. His hands found her midsection and he began tickling her mercilessly. Pinned between his thighs, she had no choice but to submit to his assault. “Okay… OKAY,” she giggled, trying to wiggle herself free.

  “I didn’t hear you say it.” He lowered his ear to her lips, waiting. His fingers poised to continue their attack.

  “You’re…you’re good at…invading personal space, too,” she panted. She didn’t hate him so much when he was being playful.

  “What was that? I couldn’t hear you,” he teased. CT brought his palms up, resting them on either side of her head. He rocked his groin into hers and his gaze focused in on the lip she didn’t realize she’d been munching on.

  “You heard me,” she breathed, absently running her fingers through his hair.

  His head fell forward and he ran his nose up the length of her cheek, murmuring, “Let me show you how good it can be.”

  “We’re just friends,” Kensie breathed.

  “We both know that isn’t true.”

  Her eyelids fluttered shut, a last-ditch attempt to shake off the intimacy. He’d been inside of her, he’d tasted her, and he’d seen every inch of her body, but she’d never felt as exposed to him as she did in that moment. Her mistake, her one-night stand, was shifting into something more, and she felt powerless to stop it.

  “That’s it. I’m done. I can’t watch another frame.” Kensie yawned, untangling her limbs from CT’s.

  “Just one more,” he pleaded, pulling her legs back across his lap.

  “I’ve created a monster,” she said, surprised the tatted-up drummer was into Jane the Virgin. They’d finished her résumé hours ago, but since Ryder and Jam never reemerged from behind her door, they decided to give Netflix another chance.

  Kensie thought briefly about offering CT a ride back to his place, but she couldn’t bring herself to say the words out loud. She wasn’t ready to say goodbye.

  “So,” CT began, running his hand up her leg, his touch soft, teasing, “if you don’t want to watch TV, what do you want to do?”

  “Let’s just talk,” she suggested. “I’m curious to know more about the juvenile delinquent I let bang me on a folding table in the middle of the yard.”

  His eyes softened at the memory. Kensie could tell he’d thought about that night as often as she had. “I couldn’t wait another minute. I didn’t even use a rubber and I always use condoms, always.”

  Kensie blushed. “Honestly, it didn’t cross my mind either, at least not until you ruined my dress.”

  He pulled her onto his lap so that she was straddling him. His hands moved down her back and onto her butt. She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder, inhaling his scent. The scruff growing over his jaw tickled her forehead as she traced the lines of the tattoo peeking out from under his tank. She’d given up the “just friends” pretense and was coming to terms with what she really was—a cheater.

  Her behavior, she rationalized, was just a last hurrah, a last-ditch attempt to sow her wild oats. She’d made her decision. She was moving in with Trey and she had a sneaking suspicion the ring would follow shortly after her change of address went into effect. She’d take her place among the Seattle social elite as Mrs. Knight. In a few months, she’d have to grow up, but until then, her window would be open, and she’d wait for Peter Pan to take her to Neverland.

  Kensie had only ever been in two serious relationships in her entire life: the ex who ruined her self-esteem with his cheating and lying, and Trey. The hypocrisy was not lost on her. Stephan’s infidelity nearly broke her, yet here she was doing the same thing to the man she claimed to love. The difference—she reasoned—was that she would do everything in her power to ensure that Trey would never find out about her double life.

  “I’m clean, just so you know.”

  She nodded, not wanting to dwell on the fact that they had been so careless. “So, CT? Is that like a nickname?” she asked, following the lines over his shoulder and down his bicep.

  “Yeah. Ry started it and it just kind of stuck. Now, it’s what everyone calls me. Everyone except my mom and sister, they hate it.” He extended his hand to her. “I’m Carter.”

  She straightened her back, taking his offered hand in hers. “Nice to meet you, Carter. I’m Kensington.”

  “Kensington, I like that.”

  “G
ood, because I’m stuck with it.” She smirked. “Also, I’m never calling you CT again.”

  “Just like the rest of the women in my life.” He smiled, returning his hand to her ass.

  There it was again, the love in his eyes as he talked about his family. Part of her was elated to be counted among the women he held so dearly, but a bigger part of her knew that wasn’t enough to change their situation. She knew the truth. She belonged to someone else and she had no intention of giving up her relationship with Trey—a man who respected her triggers, a man her family had welcomed into their lives, and a man whom she’d come to love—for a drummer who would surely break her heart.

  “I already know your birthday. What else should I know about you, Carter?”

  “My favorite color is red, my favorite food is macaroni and cheese, and I’m fluent in French.” His hands traveled up her shirt as he rattled off fact after fact. Kensie didn’t realize he’d unhooked her bra until she felt the tickle of his fingers pulling the straps down her arms and out through the sleeves of her t-shirt. “Tell me about pre-juvie Carter.”

  “He was a total fuck-up.” His voice was barely a whisper. His eyes were glued to her chest as his thumbs brushed against her protruding nipples.

  “How so?” She raked her fingers through his hair to refocus his attention, the simple gesture eliciting a slight moan from his lips.

  He leaned forward kissing each of her nipples before continuing. “I’m the middle child. I was pre-programmed to rebel against everything and everyone. It doesn’t help that my brother is perfect.”

  “Nobody’s perfect.”

  “You’ve never met my brother.” He rolled his eyes, but Kensie could see the love in them, the same as when he spoke of his mother and sister. “He’s good at everything. Every. Fucking. Thing. I spent my entire childhood living in his shadow. I wanted to hate him, but I couldn’t. The bastard is even good at being a big brother. He never made me feel like a fuck-up, even when I got arrested. He was the person who got us our first paying gig.”

  Kensie stifled a yawn.

  “Am I boring you?” he teased, slipping his hands down the back of her shorts and under her panties, resting them on her bare ass. Their presence against her skin sent a chill down her spine and a wave of moisture to her core.

  “No.” She yawned again. It was late, but she was too horny to be sleepy. “Tell me something else,” she pressed.

  “No, that’s enough about me. What about you?”

  “I’m also a card-carrying member of the total fuck-up club.”

  “How so?” he asked, repeating her words from earlier.

  “Besides the fact that I’m a cheater?”

  Carter tilted her chin down with his thumb and planted a soft kiss on her pouty lips. A mischievous smile played at the corners of his mouth. “We’re just friends, remember?” He kissed her again. This time, his kiss was deeper, possessive. He pulled her closer, massaging her tongue with his, completely claiming her. She felt him growing underneath her.

  “Maybe we should move this to my room,” she panted.

  “Nope, PG night, remember?”

  She turned to look at the digital display on the cable box. “It’s two a.m. so technically it’s the next morning.”

  “Semantics.” He smirked. She had a sneaking suspicion that this was payback. He was going to make her beg.

  “I just want you to know that I hate you with every fiber of my being.”

  “You can talk dirty all you want. I’m not going to fuck you…yet.”

  “Yet?”

  “I want to know more about Princess Kensington first.”

  She had to fight the urge to roll her eyes. “My favorite color is purple, I love bacon although I don’t eat it often enough, and I spent a semester in Europe. My Spanish is passable, but my French is atrocious.”

  “Any siblings?”

  “Nope. Lonely only.”

  “Is that why you’re so concerned with disappointing your father?”

  “My dad worked for everything he has. Literally everything. He came from nothing, worked to support himself through school, then worked his way up at his company. He helped turn it into the powerhouse that it is today. And here I am, his only child, complaining about my boss being mean.”

  “Is that why you refused to even try?” Kensie wasn’t sure if they were talking about her professional life or her personal life.

  “I’m just at this point in my life where I feel like I’m on autopilot. I graduated three years ago and I thought I would have it all figured out by now, but I second-guess every fucking decision I make. Taking the path less traveled is scary as fuck. What happens if I fail? I know how it must sound, ‘poor little rich girl,’ but it’s just hard letting go of the image of the person I thought I would be and accepting the person I am.”

  “Who are you?”

  “That’s the problem, I don’t know.”

  “What is this?” he asked, motioning between the two of them.

  She hesitated, knowing that speaking the words aloud would make everything real. There would be no going back. “I have a boyfriend. I don’t plan on that changing.”

  He huffed in aggravation, “And yet you’re here with me, for the second night in three days. How is that even possible? If you were mine—”

  “I’m not though, Carter, I’m his. This is just sex.”

  “Your head is with him. Your heart… I’m not sure, but this,” he grabbed a handful of her ass, “this is mine now, and I won’t share that with anyone, not even him.”

  She nodded, even though it wasn’t really a question. There was no point in arguing with him, he was right. For some inexplicable reason, her body craved him. She wasn’t sure how long she would realistically be able to keep Trey at arm’s length, but she’d cross that bridge when she came to it.

  “I’ll play second fiddle to the cornball for as long as you want. You can pretend to be in love with him, parade him around in front of your friends and family, but I know the truth and I’ve got time. I don’t mind waiting for you to figure it out.” He didn’t bother to wait for a response.

  Kensie fell back against the dresser, gripping the edge for support. Her knees wobbled as Carter yanked down her shorts, pulling her panties along with them. He forced her hands above her head as he tugged off her shirt. Her breasts sprang free and his rough hands were on her instantly. “Is this what you want, Kensington?” he growled in her ear.

  “Yes,” she moaned, writhing at his touch.

  His hands moved from her boobs to her throat and his lips crashed into hers. He was rough, his tongue darting in and out of her mouth, his hands applied a slight pressure around her neck. It wasn’t enough to restrict her breathing, but it was enough to make her quiver with anticipation. He wasn’t going to show her any mercy.

  “I’m going to ruin you for him,” he gritted against her mouth. “He’ll never compare. You won’t even want him to touch you when it’s all said and done.” He was back on her before she could respond, before she could process the words. He bit her bottom lip, hard. His fingers flexed around her neck once more before traveling down her body. His mouth followed closely behind, his tongue, warm and wet on her neck, kissing and sucking and biting. She squirmed, attempting to break the contact.

  “Don’t,” she pleaded. He was trying to mark her, trying to claim her.

  “Your body is mine, Kensington.”

  “You have it, Carter. I’m here with you. I haven’t been with him since you.” It was what he needed to hear. It’s what he wanted to ask her, but his pride wouldn’t allow it.

  It worked. He stilled, releasing a breath against her collarbone. He bit her once more before bending down, hooking his arms around her knees, and throwing her over his shoulder. He carried her the few feet to her bed and dropped her on her back. She tried scooting into a seated position, but he was on her before she could move, pulling her legs down, dragging her to the end of the mattress.

  Carter
dropped to his knees, bringing her legs up to rest on his shoulders. He hummed against her inner thigh, peppering the inside of her legs with kisses, deliberately avoiding her center.

  Kensie bucked her hips, desperate to have his mouth on her.

  “Please, Carter.”

  “Please what, Kensington?” he asked, inhaling her sweet scent.

  “Kiss me.” He brushed his mouth up her inner thigh once more; while the scruff on his face pricked at her sensitive skin. “Not there, jackass.” Her hips buckled again, but this time, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pinning her to the bed.

  “You’re going to have to be more specific. Tell me what you want.” He kissed the opposite thigh. “Tell me how you want it.”

  “You’re really going to make me beg?” Carter’s only response was a chuckle that reverberated through her body, nearly sending her into convulsions. “GOD. I HATE YOU!” she screamed.

  “Wrong answer.” He licked her thigh, biting and sucking over and over and over again.

  “Carter,” she panted, “don’t.”

  “No.” His voice left no room for further discussion. “He shouldn’t be down here anyway,” he commanded, before continuing his assault.

  Biting.

  Sucking.

  Licking.

  Kensie was on edge. She writhed underneath him, submitting to his punishment. He needed this. He needed to mark her. He needed to prove some part of her belonged to him, so she let him.

  “God, I need to come. I need to feel your mouth on me, licking me, tasting me, please.”

  “Much better.”

  Finally, his mouth was on her, worshiping her center the same way he had her thighs. He licked and sucked her clit with such ferocity she felt her body tense. She was close, so close. She felt his fingers, his mouth, his tongue, the smattering of hair on his face, all of it was too much. “YES!” she yelled, fisting the sheets.