Country Love (A Billionaire BWWM Romance)

by Mia Caldwell

  "Good enough for me," he smiles, diving under the sheets again.

  "Carter!" I squeal. "You're going to kill me!"

  "This is going to kill me," he corrects me, cupping the bulge in his boxers. "Waking up and seeing you all sleepy and floppy like this? God damn, Sanniyah.”

  I smile. I've smiled more in the last twelve four hours than I have in weeks. "I can't have a murder on my conscience," I tell him as I move his hand and yank his boxers down. He grunts as I take him into my mouth, but he doesn't let me get more than a few licks in before he is pushing me backwards onto the bed. The crinkle of the foil wrapper has me salivating like one of Pavlov's dogs, wet and ready so he slides in there as smoothly as silk. He shudders as he enters me, and I know he is as close as I am.

  "Dear god," he rasps, his breath raking across my ear. He rolls his hips, careful to touch every one of my sensitive places. "I'm going to need you to come, and quickly. Can you do that for me, Sanniyah?

  "I can do that. Unh," I moan, pressing myself into him. He is moving so slowly I know he is right at the edge. He is so impossibly hard inside of me, and the exquisite roll of his hips has me writhing and arching.

  "Here," he says, biting my lip as he moves his fingers down. When his thumb finds my bud, he begins to rub in time with his achingly slow thrusts. I squeeze my eyes shut, and nod, letting him take control, giving him the complete possession of my body that he needs and I crave.

  Within seconds I am shuddering again, a wrenching orgasm tearing through my body like wildfire. The minute he feels me clamp down on him, he groans and lets out a long, shivering moan that is about the sexiest noise I have ever heard in my life. I hold him tightly; kissing everywhere I can get my lips until he comes at last to a halt with a sigh. "Damn," he says.

  "Was that a happy damn, or a sad damn?" I tease him. His eyes are so damn blue they are unreal.

  "Both," he sighs. When he catches my quizzical look, he laughs and brushes it away with a quick kiss. "I just wanted to fuck you a bit longer than that, Sanniyah. Like forever longer."

  "My clients will understand," I nod, pulling myself free. "Your sister will be fine."

  "Please don't mention my little sister while I'm still semi-stiff and you're all gloriously naked?" he pleads. He looks down at his cock. "Oh god, he's all confused. I think you broke him."

  I press a kiss to the smooth head. "Feel better, big guy. I'm not done with you yet."

  "I'm healed!" Carter announces, so quickly that I'm laughing again.

  He has me laughing the rest of the day; in the shower as we jockey for position under the showerhead, in the kitchen as he makes me eggs again for breakfast and then once more for lunch, in the living room as he keeps interrupting my phone calls by making funny faces to distract me. Having him here is going to kill any productivity I could hope for and I'm strangely okay with that.

  When he stretches out beside me that night, I lie awake in wonder at how seamlessly he has fit into my life. Two days ago I could not have imagined that I would ever be able to make things work with Carter Easton. Now, suddenly, I'm wondering how I ever did without him.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Sanniyah

  I hover in the doorway. "You sure you're okay here?"

  Carter stretches out on the couch with my laptop. "I can get everything I need to do done online." He smiles up at me, a little tightly. "I did that on purpose."

  I waver for a moment. "Well, you know where everything is."

  "Come back soon," he smiles, craning his head up to me. I kiss him one last time, then step out of the apartment for the first time in three days.

  Leaving him feels like leaving a dream and stepping out into the harsh light of reality. Today's wedding is a small affair, one I could have done in my sleep back before Carter. But the knowledge that he's waiting for me to come him makes me sloppy and rushed.

  Especially when he calls.

  "What are you wearing?"

  I snort in the vestibule. "You saw me, dumbass."

  "Tell me again."

  I look up. This is a church I've used before and I know there is a private baptistery off the main part of the church. I glance at my clock. The ceremony will be going for another forty-five minutes at least. Very Catholic brides are my favorite in terms of downtime.

  I duck quickly into the corner, light streaming through the stained glass windows covered in reproachful looking cherubs, and I feel deliciously guilty as I whisper. "The black dress."

  "The one with the red belt?"

  "Yes."

  "Mmm, I like that one. How about underneath it?"

  My whole body flushes with a deep, overwhelming heat. I shift in the pew and lean forward, whispering the words. "The black lace bra from our first night together and a thong." I hear a scraping sound and dart a look around. An old relative of the bride is making his way slowly to the restroom, but judging by the size of his hearing aid, he's not going to hear me whispering into my phone. I hope.

  "That's not painting me a vivid enough picture. I need details, Sanniyah. Tell me about this thong."

  Without meaning to, I feel my hand brush up along my hip. "A tiny thing," I tell him, my voice lowering seductively. "It's black...lacy. My favorite pair, actually."

  "Take them off."

  "Carter!" Desire makes it come out more like a moan.

  "I'm serious. Take them off."

  "What am I going to do, carry panties around a wedding?

  "No." Carter's voice has taken on that low, bossy tone he uses in the bedroom, and I am reacting to it just the same as if I were underneath him. I am rocking back and forth, grinding myself into the hard chair as I listen to him tell me exactly what to do. "You're going to stand up, right now, while I'm on the phone with you, and you're going to take them off. Put them in your purse and go bare for the rest of the day."

  "Why?"

  "Because I'm telling you to."

  I moan in spite of myself. He's right. I'm already standing up, just because I can't resist it. I slide my hand up my skirt. "Okay," I breathe.

  "Let me listen. I want to hear."

  I slide the phone down to my hip and look over my shoulder. I am alone, only the reproachful cherubs can see me, but my heart is still ready to pump right out of my chest. Quickly, I yank them down and turn to stuff them into my purse.

  "Okay," I breathe again. My thighs tighten as I feel my nakedness.

  "Good," Carter's tone is still commanding and I lean forward, bracing myself for what he's going to ask next. The restroom door bangs open, making me jump, and the old relative begins his slow shuffle back to the ceremony. It is such a close call that I am wet with relief. I hear Carter lick his lips into the phone. "Now, Sanniyah, tell me something.."

  "Yes?"

  "How wet are they?"

  I clench my thighs harder. "Very."

  "Are they wet enough, do you think?"

  "I think so, yes."

  "But you're wetter now that you're not wearing them, aren't you?"

  The rush that accompanies his words has me moaning again. "Yes," I pant.

  "When you come home, I'm going to meet you at the door. You're going to give me your panties, right then, and then I'm going to check you. I want you wet and ready for me. Do you understand?"

  "I do," I groan. I am panting audibly into the phone.

  "Sanniyah?"

  "Yes?"

  "Come home."

  I dart a look at my clock. A half an hour until the ceremony is over. It's a risk.

  "Okay."

  He meets me at the door, just like he said he would, his hand out. Blushing, I hand him my panties, which he clenches in one fist, while darting the other hand under my skirt. "Very good," he breathes, as he slips a finger inside of me.

  I make it back to the ceremony just as they are ready to throw the rice. I smile like the professional I am, and no seems to notice that my hair is mussed and I am still not wearing any panties.

  Chapter Thirty-Six
/>   Carter

  Let the world outside be damned, I've found paradise. It's a sixth floor apartment in an okay part of town and it's inhabited by an actual angel.

  In between fucking her and cooking for her, I'm happy enough just to hang around watching her. She spends most of the morning on the phone, doing all of the bootstrap work I remember from when I started my own company all those years ago. The promotions, the press releases, the greasing of suppliers palms, and the never-ending search for clients.

  She's good at it. Better than I was, I see that right away. Where I am more of a big-picture, idea person, Sanniyah is gifted at breaking things down into steps. Her vision boards and timelines are like a foreign language to me; both impressive and utterly incomprehensible.

  I feel bad eavesdropping, but she's given no indication that she is looking for these calls to be private. So I sit back on her bed and watch her chew the end of her pen, her face screwed up in this cute little frown as she places her call.

  "Yes, thank you, I can hold." She taps the pen nervously. This call seems a little different than all the others. Her calm, collected demeanor is fraying a bit at the edges. She catches sight of me looking at her and smiles, then holds up crossed fingers. I nod and cross my fingers too, and the look of gratitude she gives me makes my heart hurt.

  Then her attention snaps back to the call. "Felicia! Yes, hi, Sanniyah Jones, Rita Torres gave me your number?" Her smile falters a bit, but she plows on. "I do realize you're busy, but I was hoping you had a chance to look over the press release I had sent you. As Rita may have mentioned...uh huh...no definitely, my inbox is out of hand as well." She gives a brittle laugh. "I believe I sent it, let me see, about four days ago? That would be...yes, the twenty-first." Her shoulders are slumping lower and lower and I want to reach through the phone and throttle the person she's talking to. "Well of course, I would be happy to call back, is there a particular time of day you'd prefer? No, I get that, believe me. I'll be in touch very soon. Thank you so much, Felicia. Will you please tell Rita I say hello? Wonderful."

  The frozen smile melts off of her face the minute she hangs up. She stares at her phone, slumped over, her face a mixture of disappointment and confusion. She looks deflated.

  "Anything I can do?" I ask. I can't see her like this.

  She startles like she had forgotten I was there. "Um, no, not really." She turns to her computer and begins scrolling through the massive quantity of emails that I can tell from here are all organized and filed. "There it is," she mutters. "It has a fucking read receipt, you bitch. I know you opened it."

  She slams her laptop lid closed and hops to her feet. "I need to take a walk, you want to take a walk with me?"

  I feel her words more than I hear him and they are a punch directly to my gut. My throat goes dry and I feel the icy trickle of cold sweat slithering down my next. Gripping the sheets in my shaking hands, I try to stall, hoping she can't hear the panic in my voice. "Where do you want to go?"

  She is already putting on her sneakers like this is nothing to her. "I don't know, I just need to move, stop staring at a computer screen for a bit. The park's only three blocks from here, we could grab a bite at the gyro truck."

  "You tired of my eggs?" I stall.

  She laughs and stands back up, shaking out her hands and jumping up and down. "I'm just...all pissed off and antsy. I need to burn a few calories."

  "I can think of a calorie burning activity we can do right here," I urge, patting the bed beside me.

  She rolls her eyes. "Carter, we've barely left this apartment in three days. It's nice and all, but I think I'm getting a Vitamin D deficiency. Can't we just go for a quick walk?"

  She doesn't know what it costs me to rise from the bed. I feel like I am moving through ice water, slowly freezing to death while she watches me with nothing more than impatience. "Sure," I tell her, my tongue too thick in my mouth. "Just a quick walk."

  This is what normal couples do, I tell myself as I walk to her elevator like I am preparing to meet my doom. They go out, they walk, they experience things together. You said you were ready.

  I am not ready!

  "Ow, Carter!"

  I am gripping her arm too tightly. "Sorry." She doesn't know that if I let go of her I might drown.

  The first step out onto the sidewalk is like stepping off the edge of an abyss. I squeeze my eyes shut, feeling exposed, a prey animal waiting to be picked off by unseen predators. Sanniyah is already moving, her hand in mine the only tether that is keeping me from running full tilt back to her apartment, back to my helicopter, back to my island, my sanctuary, my safety....

  "Fuck," I hiss audibly, and open my eyes. If I can just keep them fixed on Sanniyah.

  She is about a pace ahead of me, the crowds parting in front of her. She leads me and I know she thinks it's just because I don't know the way to McMahon Park. I do, of course. I grew up five blocks north of there. Summer camp was that the civic center on the north end. My dad would drop us off on the hot summer mornings, the pavement already starting to bake even at the early hour. And my mother would pick us up at the end of the day. My mother...

  "Carter, watch out!" Sanniyah yanks me back on to the sidewalk just as the wash of air from the passing bus hits me full in the face.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Sanniyah

  "Holy shit, are you okay?"

  He just...stepped out in front of a bus. That was disturbing enough. But what is more disturbing is the dead look in his eyes when I yank him back on to the sidewalk.

  It's like he's just...not there. At all. The sparkle in his blue eyes is gone and the color has somehow faded until they are as dull and flat as a doll's. He's pale, paler than I thought a white person could get, even under his tan I can see the sickly, almost deathly pallor. And the hand I am clutching to my chest is clammy and limp as a dead fish. Without meaning to, I fling it away in horror.

  "Carter, what the hell is going on?" I can feel the tears. He looks terrifying right now.

  "I can't do it." He doesn't say this to me, but I hear it all the same.

  "Do what?"

  He blinks, and for a minute his eyes are right again. Then they dart around behind me, taking in the passing pedestrians, the honking cars, the tall buildings. And then it begins to dawn on me. "Your agoraphobia...," I realize.

  "No!" he says sharply.

  "It's okay, shit, I shouldn't have done this, I should have known better, but I thought you were okay since you came to me, Carter, I'm sorry I pushed you..."

  I reach out to hug him to me, but he steps back, his arms tightly at his sides. "No! Please. Sanniyah. Don't touch me right now, okay?"

  "What do you need?" I ask, feeling frantic. "We can go back, right now, okay?"

  "No." He is still standing there, eyes darting, chest heaving.

  My mind races. He's not hearing me. His fists are clenched at his sides, knuckles white. "Carter? I'm going to call someone, right now, okay?" Frantically, I scroll through my phone for the number.

  The ten minutes that roll by are the longest I've ever spent in my life. Carter is frozen in front of me, his face a mask of anger and shame. No matter how much I tell him that it's okay, that I am sorry, he only says 'no,' over and over again until the black car rolls up and Camilla jumps out.

  "Carter, here. Come right here." I feel my heart sink to see how he lets her lead him into the safety of the black Towne car. The instant he is behind the tinted glass, he relaxes.

  "Thank you for calling, Sanniyah." Camilla sounds concerned, distracted, and a bit put out. "He shouldn't have pushed himself, it can undo all the good he's done up to this point."

  "I'm sorry," I say dumbly.

  "It's okay," she answers tightly.

  But I know it isn't when she gets back into the car and shakes some pills into her hand. Carter shoots me one last anguished glance, then pops them into his mouth, dry. Then the door closes and he is gone.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

 
Sanniyah

  Already my apartment feels too empty with him gone. I wander around, picking things up and putting them down, until, with nothing left to distract me, I fall into bed, wrapping myself in the sheets that still smell like him and cursing myself for being my bull-headed self. Anger courses through me in waves, each wave followed by another of heartbreak and sadness that startles me each time I feel it.