But with that realization came the fear.
His father always wanted to be with his wives too. He truly thought he loved them. He fell for them hook, line and sinker and he got them married, bound to him, as quickly as possible. And he made it hell on them to leave.
They all did, eventually. But it was a battle. Matt Shaw used everything he had to keep them with him—begging, pleading, threatening, lying, cutting off their money, tangling them up in legal messes, even stooping to ridiculousness like hiding their car keys, or hiding their car. He went to such lengths that it was humiliating for all of them. Carter less so, now that he was out on his own and away from the crazy, but Matt was still his father and everyone in town knew all about the drama. Every fucking time.
Why these women kept signing up for Matt’s particular brand of hell, Carter didn’t know. Apparently Matt was as passionate and over the top when falling in love as he was in trying to keep his marriages together when they fell apart. He swept them off their feet. And married them as fast as he could. The only thing he didn’t do, obviously, was give them a real reason to stay.
Carter felt a similar type of desperation when he thought about Lacey.
The idea of being able to have her, all to himself, forever, made him feel a little crazy for sure. And the idea of having her and then losing her…yep, that could absolutely send him over the edge.
Fuck.
He made himself say, “I want you to be happy, Lacey. I do. I just don’t know—”
She put a finger over his lips. “Just let me stay. For a while. Let’s see how it goes. I took a leave of absence from work. I didn’t take much time off after the funeral—I needed to drown myself in work then—so they were happy to give me time off now. Let me just stay and be with you. We can…take it a little at a time.”
And with those big brown eyes on his, her body smelling like his soap, wrapped only in his sheet, in his bed, Carter said the only thing possible. “Okay. Stay.”
They slept after that.
Lacey was amazed when she awoke nearly nine hours later. She hadn’t slept that well, or that long, since before the night Garrett had been shot. She’d been honest when she’d said that she’d had trouble falling asleep that night.
She rolled to her back and stretched.
She was a little sore and that made her smile. She hadn’t had a reason to be that kind of sore in a long time either.
Without looking, she knew that Carter wasn’t in bed with her.
This was the second time she’d gone to sleep with him and awakened without him, and she didn’t like it. But in all fairness, she’d shown up out of the blue last night. It was possible he had plans. This was his house, his town, his life. She was interrupting.
But she didn’t think he minded.
There had been a lot of emotions swirling last night. That was part of the reason they’d fallen asleep rather than getting even sorer.
But they’d fallen asleep together. Wrapped around one another. All night.
That was the stuff she needed, what she’d hoped for in coming here.
Lacey stretched, unable to stop smiling.
Carter was still processing it all, and considering she’d been thinking about this trip for almost two weeks before making it while he’d only known how she felt and what she wanted for a few hours, she knew she had to give him time.
He thought they were going to make this trip about Garrett and healing and dealing.
That was fine. Smart. Probably something they needed.
But she was here for Carter. She maybe hadn’t dealt with everything about losing Garrett, but she was done being sad and moving through her life numb and only half there. She wanted her life back. She wanted love and laughter and passion and friendship and there was only one man left on the planet who could give her those things.
And she was waking up in his bed.
That was a very good start.
Lacey got up, grinning at the torn pair of hot-pink panties on Carter’s floor. That was a perfect place to leave them too, she figured. She had a suitcase in the car, but since all she’d worn inside was the lingerie and trench coat and heels, she padded to his closet. She could have rifled through his drawers for a t-shirt but there had been something about that dress shirt he’d worn last night that made her heart thump. He’d been dressed the same way the first time she’d met him. He’d been in dark-gray dress pants and white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. If he’d worn a tie to the wedding, he’d already shed it by the time he and Garrett approached her at the reception.
Last night he’d looked the same. Black pants, dark-blue dress shirt, sleeves rolled up, no tie. Of course, last night he’d also worn something even sexier—an in-charge but calm attitude when he’d come into his neighbor’s house, supposedly to deal with a burglar, or a mistress, or whatever they’d all thought she was.
She’d been embarrassed about the whole thing—getting the wrong house, almost being arrested—but she’d been hot for the commanding cop who’d come through the door, that was for sure.
In the past, Carter had come to San Antonio to hang out. He wore jeans, T-shirts and ball caps. He’d dress up a little with a knit shirt and nicer jeans if they went out, but he didn’t give a lot of time or energy to his appearance. He kept his hair short and a seemingly perpetual scruff on his face.
He was hot, sexy, gorgeous. But it all seemed second nature. He worked out because he liked it and needed it for his job. His sexiness came, not from his hair or clothes, but from the way he moved and the confidence and intensity that was just a part of him.
Lacey pulled a white shirt from a hanger and slipped into it. She loved the smell of it around her and how it seemed to engulf her body—like Carter did.
In the bathroom, she washed her face and ran Carter’s comb through her hair, then headed downstairs.
If he wasn’t here, she certainly hoped he’d left the coffee pot on. She knew he drank it, by the gallons. Of course, he drank it straight-up black so she also hoped he had cream or at least milk. She couldn’t take how he and Garrett did coffee. It wasn’t supposed to eat a hole in your gut.
The kitchen was empty but there was a note on the counter.
Even before she read it, she was warmed by it.
Out for a run. Be back soon. Make yourself at home.
Oh, she intended to, she thought, smiling.
In fact…
Twenty minutes later, when Carter came in through the back door, Lacey had just added the final pancakes to the stack on the plate and had reached into the cupboard above for the syrup. It had taken a little bit to find all of the ingredients, but he’d had everything she needed.
She turned to greet him but her words dried up on her lips.
Carter was looking at her as if she’d just punched him in the gut. He was also shirtless, sweaty, breathing hard. “Jesus,” he muttered, his gaze sweeping over her.
Everything in her clenched tight and hard with just that look.
“What?” she managed to ask.
“Do you realize when you reach up like that, your sweet ass is on display?” he asked roughly.
She hadn’t really thought about it actually. But now she was very aware of her ass—and lots of other things.
She cleared her throat. “I made breakfast.”
“A hot girl I want more than anything, dressed in my shirt, clearly naked underneath and smelling like pancakes,” Carter said, moving around the corner of the island. “I don’t need any breakfast.”
Her gaze traveled down his neck to his chest, over his pecs and down his abs. Her tongue tingled. “You shouldn’t run around town looking like that,” she told him. “It’s not fair to the other men. Or the women trying to get anything done.”
The corner of his mouth curled slightly. “I like knowing I can get you all hot and bothered as easy as you do it to me.”
He stopped right in front of her.
“You can. You do,” she said, her
voice husky.
“Take the shirt off.”
She had not expected things to go down like this. She’d honestly made him breakfast thinking they would talk and have coffee and find their way back to the fun, easygoing friendship they’d had before.
She’d always been attracted to him, had fantasized about sex with him, felt the heat between them. But she valued the friendship too.
Of course, they’d never been alone together. Last night, when they’d come through his front door, had been the first time they’d truly been alone. There had been times when it had been just the two of them for a few minutes, but Garrett had always been there, or in just the next room. In fact, as she thought about it, there had been a few times that Garrett had been running late getting out of work and making it to dinner on time but she and Carter had been left waiting in a restaurant or, if at home, with a group of friends. Never really alone.
She frowned as that realization caught up to her.
“Did Garrett keep us from being alone or was that you?” she asked.
It was clear that her question seemed out of the blue to Carter. He stopped with his hand partway to her hair and frowned. “What?”
“You and I have never been alone until last night. Even if Garrett wasn’t there, we were in public or with other people. Did he do that or did you?”
Carter’s hand dropped back to his side. “Maybe it was just a coincidence.”
She didn’t buy it. “Or maybe one of you worked it out that way.”
Carter looked into her eyes. “Why do you think we would do that?”
“Because all three of us knew that there was something between you and me from the very beginning. Maybe one of you was afraid of what would happen if we were alone for even a few minutes.”
He moved in closer, his eyes darkening. “And what would have happened?”
“We would have kissed. Probably more.”
“In just a few minutes?”
She shrugged. “Yes.”
“Really.” But he wasn’t asking. He knew the answer.
“So who kept us apart?”
He didn’t even blink. “We both did.”
She wasn’t surprised, she realized. “You talked about it.”
“That I wanted you from the minute I saw you? Yes. Though we didn’t really need to talk about it. He knew me well enough to know.”
“Might have had something to do with you saying ‘damn, I’d like to put her up against the nearest wall’ to him when you both noticed me.”
One eyebrow arched. “He told you that?”
“He did.”
“Do you know that he told me about the two of you in the bedroom?” Carter asked.
Lacey had to admit she was surprised at that. “What about us?”
“That you like it from behind. That you’re a dirty talker. That you’re the best blow job he’s ever had. That country music makes you horny—especially Eric Church and Kip Moore. That—”
“Okay.” She wasn’t sure if she should laugh or shake her head or shove him back or pull him closer. “And you clearly never told him to stop.”
“I should have,” he said. “But I liked hearing it. It made my fantasies even better. When I was jerking off and thinking of you, I could imagine your mouth around my cock and you saying beautiful, filthy things and then begging me to take you from behind.”
He’d continued moving closer as he spoke and Lacey felt her whole body flush.
He was so… God.
“With my mouth around your cock it would have been hard to say filthy things.”
He gave her a lethal half grin. “Somehow it all worked in my mind.”
“He told us those things to make us think of each other exactly that way,” she said, understanding dawning. “He wanted us to be attracted and to think about each other sexually.”
Carter braced his hands on the counter on either side of her hips. “Yep. He admitted it after our night together. But I suspected it before that.”
Her breath hitched with him this close, half naked, big and hot and nearly on top of her.
“So why never let us be alone?”
“That was me.”
“But he knew that it was you avoiding it?”
“Yes.”
“Because you told him you couldn’t be alone with me?”
“Yes.”
“What did you say?” She bit her bottom lip. She shouldn’t ask that, shouldn’t even wonder. But God she did.
“I said that if I had you alone for five minutes, I’d be buried balls deep.”
She felt her nipples pull tight and everything deep pulse. “I thought he wanted—”
“He wanted the three of us, Lace. Not just you and me.”
“But he didn’t tell you that until after…” She trailed off. He knew what she was talking about anyway.
“He didn’t tell me he wanted me, and he didn’t tell me that he wanted a long-term threesome, but he’d told me he would share you.”
Her body grew even hotter and she was afraid her knees would melt and she’d crumple to a pile on the floor.
“And you didn’t want to?”
He took a second to respond. When he did, she saw the pure honesty in his eyes.
“No, I didn’t want to share you. I wanted you all to myself.”
She sucked in a breath. That was…
“Bullshit,” she said. “You let Garrett give me his number, not yours. The very first night. You said last night that you thought he was better for me.”
“He was. That didn’t mean I didn’t want you.”
“You also said that you were coming around last night. That you were considering the threesome.”
“I was getting damned sick of going without you. I figured if I had to share you, at least I would have part of you.”
She blew out a breath. “I don’t know what to say.” She was overwhelmed. Carter hadn’t wanted to share her but he’d still encouraged her and Garrett to be together because Garrett was better for her.
That had to mean he felt more for her than lust. And now he could have her, not share, be everything. This could work.
This had to work.
“So Garrett knew you wanted me and that you didn’t want to share and that if we’d ever been alone together something would have happened, and he still let the threesome happen for my birthday.”
“He was so fucking turned on by that,” Carter said. “I should have known then it was more than one hot night to him. But I’d told myself it was because you asked for it and it was your birthday. Those were perfect excuses. But he really wanted it to blow my mind and make me want more too.”
She reached out and ran a hand up his chest to his shoulder. “It didn’t work though.”
He stepped in so they were belly to belly. “It did work. I thought I knew want before that night but it was nothing compared to afterward.”
She swallowed hard. Every time she was about to say something about now, about it being forever, about them being together, she hesitated. As if if she moved too fast or said the wrong thing he’d run and she’d lose him.
It was because of the morning after their night together, she knew. He was gone by the time she’d awakened. And she hadn’t seen him again until Garrett’s funeral.
He’d missed her, had been thinking about her and even considering changing his whole life and agreeing to living in a ménage forever. But it had taken him a long damned time.
She couldn’t do that again.
Especially because, whether he felt romantic or sexual love for Garrett or not, Carter thought Garrett was an important part of the whole thing.
She had to show him that wasn’t true.
“We’ve been in here, alone, for more than five minutes,” she said. “And you’re not balls deep.”
She’d expected him to hesitate or to be surprised for three seconds.
He wasn’t.
“Turn around,” he growled.
“I want t
o see you.”
“I’m all sweaty, and not in the nice, sexy way,” he said. “Turn around.”
She shivered and did as he asked.
He ran a hand up the back of her thigh to her bare ass and stroked over her cheek before pushing the shirt to her lower back.
She pressed into his hand. “I don’t mind sweaty.”
“But you love it from behind. Deep and hard. Or so I’ve heard.”
She moaned. She did. So, so much. And it didn’t seem to bother Carter that what he knew about her had come from his best friend who had been sleeping with her. For some reason, that was kind of hot too. Confusing. But hot.
“Brace yourself, honey.”
Chapter Six
Lacey grabbed the edge of the counter and widened her stance. She heard the swish of his running shorts and then felt his hot, hard cock against her butt.
“You are a fucking dream come true,” he murmured, running his hand around her stomach and then down.
She whimpered as he circled her clit before sliding lower.
“So wet,” he praised. “So needy.”
“God, Carter.” Her head dropped forward as he thrust a finger deep, stroking three times before adding a second.
“What do you need, Lace?”
“You.”
“Tell me. I want to hear specifics.”
“Your cock, hard and deep.” She gasped as he stroked a fingertip over her G-spot.
He grabbed her leg and lifted her thigh, opening her. “Bend over.”
She leaned into the counter and immediately felt the head of his cock at her entrance. He thrust, sinking into her in one stroke.
She heard him draw a ragged breath. “Balls deep,” he said gruffly.
She smiled and wiggled against him. “About time.”
Illegal Motion: Boys of Fall Page 8
