by Jessa James
“I'm not dressed for dinner.” I pointed at his suit.
Without another word, he tugged at the knot on his tie, loosened it and slipped it from his head, undid the top button of his shirt. Shrugged off his jacket and slug it, along with the tie, over his arm.
“There. And you look… perfect, by the way.” His eyes heated, but also held something else I didn't recognize. “We'll go to the diner. Just say yes.”
I wanted to, so, so badly. But with Carter came baggage, tons of it. A one night stand was one thing, but even though I wanted more with him, I knew him. I knew his lifestyle. His women. I wanted him so badly it hurt to breathe, but I also knew the facts. Carter would break me into a million little pieces if I let him. Last night convinced me of that. If I let him touch me again, I was doomed. I was too weak to be with him and not fall in love with him. Hell, it was too late for me already. I knew it. But that didn’t mean I was a masochist either. I knew how this would end and I couldn't compromise where my heart was concerned.
“Dinner. Come on.” His smile came out then. The big guns. “You have to eat.”
I rolled my eyes. That fucking smile. It so wasn’t fair. “Fine.”
I agreed, but only so I could tell him I couldn’t see him again. That was not a conversation I wanted to have in the privacy of my home with a big, soft bed so temptingly nearby.
He waited as I slipped on some shoes and grabbed my purse, locked up, then helped me into the car. I was cocooned in the supple interior with the distinct scent of leather and, of course, Carter.
He slid into the driver's seat and put the car in gear, wrapped his hands around the steering wheel.
I knew what those fingers could do, how dexterous they were. I shifted in the seat and could not stop glancing at him from the corner of my eye. God, he was sex on a stick. In just his dress shirt, the linen molded perfectly to his broad shoulders, thick biceps. I’d been discreetly studying his rock hard body every day for the last ten months, but never without a suit jacket. The company gym was on the second floor, and I often had to track him down there. Gym shorts and a tight, sweat-soaked t-shirt were a good look on him, and more than once I’d had to turn away as I spoke to him, afraid the urge to lick him up and down would show on my face.
But now I knew what he looked like naked, what he felt like.
He drove for a few minutes in silence. I had no idea what to say. I looked like a slob and felt so far out of his league. I didn’t even know why I was here, in his stupid car. Dinner. God, this… delusion was just stupid. It wasn’t like this was going to go anywhere and dinner was just going to make it even harder to walk away. The longer I thought about it, the more I realized this was a big mistake. Huge. Nothing good could come from letting my desire, my stupid hope, linger.
I shifted in my seat, annoyed now with the wetness I could still feel coating my inner thighs, the ache in my pussy that was from more than just his cock the night before. I was wet and ready for him. Again. Damn it. Why did it have to be Carter? Why couldn’t I have the hots for Dave in accounting? He was single, not bad looking, and only a year older than me. That would make more sense. But this? This was just crazy.
I sighed and shifted my legs, trying to ignore the scent of Carter’s cologne. But it seemed to infiltrate my body like an aphrodisiac, making me think about touching Carter, kissing Carter, opening my legs and watching Carter use his mouth on me until I begged him to fuck me. Again. In my own mind, I was the star of some freaking erotic romance novel and Carter was the bad-boy hero who knew how to work my body until I was so wrung out I couldn’t remember my own name. And I knew he could work me over and make me forget. In his bed, I'd forgotten all about reality for a little while as he filled me, tasted me, held me down and pressed me into his bed...
A soft moan escaped and I cut it off, wrapping my arms around my waist. I turned to stare out the window and saw that we were pulling into a twenty-four hour diner, just as he'd said. God, this was emotional suicide. “I think you should just take me home, Carter.”
Carter turned off the car and faced me.
“Why? I love the pie they serve here. Don't you like pie?”
I had to smile. “Yes, I like pie.”
“Then what's the problem?”
“I just don't understand.” I tugged at the hem of my t-shirt, pulling it lower over my abdomen, needing another layer of protection between him and my overeager pussy. God, I was pathetic.
He frowned, his forearm resting on the steering wheel. “Neither do I, it seems. Explain, sweetheart.”
I waved my hand between us. “That. The sweetheart bit. Why do keep calling me that? It was a one-night-stand, so why dinner?”
“I never said it was a one-night-stand,” he countered.
“Carter, we made out in a bar bathroom.” I felt my cheeks heat and I had to look away.
“That wasn't making out, that was foreplay.”
Oh god. I needed new panties. My hands twisted in my lap as he continued.
“Foreplay for what we did in my bed, foreplay for what we'll do later tonight. Tomorrow. Forever.”
My eyebrows went up. “Forever? But you're a—”
I bit my lip and he frowned. “Finish that sentence.”
I hadn't even said it and I felt like I'd insulted him. But I saw the women, the photos. I knew the truth.
I looked down at my lap. “You're a man whore, Carter. Everyone knows it. I won’t be able to live with myself if I’m just another notch on your belt. That’s not the kind of girl I am.”
A car horn blared from the street, but otherwise there was silence. God, he was going to start the car and take me home. Maybe even undo the locks and push me out onto the pavement.
“So, you think I'm a man whore,” he said finally.
I was thrilled the interior was dark, otherwise he'd see my cheeks heat. He must have recognized that I had no intention of responding, so he continued, completely at ease.
“I haven't been with a woman since I met you.”
I whipped my head around to look at him. The long strands of his dark hair were less groomed than at work and I ached to run my fingers through them. His jaw was darkened by the start of beard.
“I don't believe you,” I replied, leaning against the door to get as far from him as possible.
“Don't believe the rumors.”
“I don't listen to office gossip.” There was enough of it to go around and I knew better than to find truth in any of it. My source was much more reliable. Hell, she set up Carter’s dates for him. Tori. My friend Tori was Carter’s personal admin assistant. That bitch knew everything—and she told me.
He flicked a glance at me, then at a couple that got into the car next to ours. “All right, who have I been with then?” he asked. “You're friends with Tori and she knows more about my day than I do.”
Exactly! “The blond at the Harris ball,” I said.
He thought for a moment about the event back in January.
“My sister.”
His—
“The company Fourth of July party.” There was no way he had two gorgeous sisters, one blond the other a red head.
“Evelyn Patterson.”
I rolled my eyes. At least he wasn't denying there had been a woman with him.
“My best friend's wife,” he added. “You've met Colin Patterson before. Tall guy, we played golf together… with Ford, as part of that charity event back in August. As for the picnic, Colin was on call for the holiday and was pulled in for an emergency C-section. He's an OB. He felt bad that Evelyn would be alone so she came with me.”
Oh.
“When else, Emma?” I saw the cocky smile I knew all too well quirk the corner of his mouth. He didn't look the least bit like a man caught with his pants down, more than once. He looked too confident, as if he really was telling the truth.
“Last week, the Milkin merger reception.”
“My next door neighbor,” he replied immediately. After the car next
to ours left, it was quiet again. The car was like a cocoon, quiet and close. His clean scent was stronger now and with him looking at me directly, his eyes seemed almost black. “And before you say I fucked her, I didn't. She's a lesbian and doesn't find my equipment all that exciting.”
I couldn't help it, my mouth fell open.
“Then why?” I asked, before I thought better of it.
“Why do I find escorts who are already claimed or completely disinterested in me? Because the woman I wanted to ask was sitting outside my brother’s office. I had to take a date, as you're well aware, so I found women to accompany me, but that's all.”
“Then you really didn't—”
I couldn't finish my sentences around him.
“I didn't fuck them. I haven't fucked anyone. Hell, I haven't touched anyone since I saw you. I’ve just been waiting, Emma, waiting for you to finish school. Being a fucking gentleman.” His hand gripped the steering wheel so tightly I feared it would break. “Until you forced my hand.”
Oh. Holy shit. The whole V-card thing.
He turned to look at me and I melted into the seat, my whole body on fire for him. “Your body is mine, Emma. I don’t share.”
Normally, the whole caveman vibe would turn me off. But coming from Carter, it had the opposite effect. I felt wanted, desired. The idea that I had been the reason for his sexual dry spell was overwhelming. Me! I wasn't anything special, not in comparison to those gorgeous women who'd escorted him to the events, especially now in my yoga pants when I was nowhere near a gym. But he hadn't touched those women. Certainly not his sister, definitely not the wife of a friend. He might be the hottest guy I'd ever seen, but he didn't have a chance with a lesbian.
“Why me?” I asked, when he turned off the car.
“You’re smart, beautiful, and classy. Your curves go on for miles and every time I look at you, all I can think about is bending you over my desk and filling you with my cock. That virginity you wanted to throw away, that was mine.”
“That's awfully possessive of you,” I countered.
He stared at me, his eyes dark and intent. There I saw so much, everything he'd never shown me before. It was the most heated, most carnal gaze I'd ever seen. “I want you, Emma. And not as a one-night-stand.”
I couldn’t breathe, hope like a butterfly floating in my chest. “Then what do you want?”
“Forever.”
My heart beat too fast. Forget butterflies. A herd of buffalo was running through my stomach and I felt like I was going to faint.
Carter looked at me for a moment, then reached over to touch my forehead, as if I were a sick child with a fever. “Emma? Are you all right?”
“No.” No. I wasn’t all right. I’d somehow stepped into an alternate reality where I got to fuck Carter Buchanan. Where the sexy as sin billionaire started talking about forever with the innocent and inexperienced secretary. This had to be a dream. Or a joke. Maybe a bet? Had he made one of those stupid bets about who gets the virgin, like I’d seen in the movies? Just how stupid was I being here?
Truly. What were the odds that Carter Buchanan, sexy, smart billionaire really, truly wanted middle-class nobody, a secretary who’d never even been with a man before?
He should be out with a supermodel or an actress. Or a freaking doctor or something. I was fooling myself. Looking away from his concerned expression, I said, “Take me home, please.”
“Talk to me.”
“Take me home.”
I saw a muscle in his jaw tick, but he started the car and drove me back to my place. The short ride was in complete silence and it was excruciating. I thought he’d drop me off and go, thanks to the cold shoulder I was giving him. Instead, he parked and hurried to my side of the car to help me out. It turned out to be a good thing, because my knees were shaky as hell, just like my emotions.
Emma
Carter wrapped his arm around my waist and led me back to my door. When I fumbled with the keys, he took them from me and unlocked the deadbolt. After escorting me inside, he closed the door behind us, flipped on a light and walked me to the couch. I sat down with a heavy sigh.
Maybe I did need food. Or a reality check. Everything felt like it was spinning out of control.
A few days ago, I’d been confident and ready to move on with my life, ready to leave my obsession with Carter behind.
Now, he was on his knees on my living room floor. On his knees! His hands rested on my thighs, as if he owned them, their heat burning away the fog in my brain and turning it into something else.
“Carter,” I whispered.
Tempted beyond all reason, I opened my legs slightly, eager to feel him between them even as I hated myself for being weak.
No. I didn’t need food. I needed Carter to touch me, make me feel alive and real and loved. Not this scared, shell-shocked version of myself too afraid to believe a word coming out of his mouth.
I was in love with Carter. Had been for months. And hearing him talk about forever so casually, when I knew he couldn’t possibly be sincere…well…it broke me a little. Broke my heart.
“You should go.” I loved him, but I wasn’t an idiot. I knew the score when he slept with me the night before. I'd been a virgin and he wanted to be the one to pop my cherry. Fine. I got it. For some weird reason, men liked to be first. Whatever. A random guy from the bar would have been long gone by now. But Carter, he didn’t have to mess with my head like this.
“No. I’m not going anywhere until you listen to me.” His words were just as insistent as his hands on my thighs.
I shook my head and pulled myself together. Closing my legs, I lifted my head and stared right at him. I let him see just how much he was hurting me with his games. “Just… just go, Carter. This isn’t funny anymore.”
“I’m not joking.” Carter reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled out a small, black velvet ring box. “Marry me, Emma. I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you for months. You’re the only woman for me. I want you. I want you to be the mother of my children. I want to be yours. Not just for one night, Emma. Forever.”
I stared, stunned, until he opened the ring box and turned it to me. Inside was the most beautiful diamond solitaire I’d ever seen.
Blinking slowly, I looked from the ring to his face, saw the sincerity, the need, the love. I felt the first tear burn its way down my right cheek and I dashed it away with shaking fingers, hoping he wouldn’t notice.
“Say, yes.”
“You want me?” I squeaked. “But I'm so much younger. I'm completely inexperienced and you're… you're—”
“Old?” he asked.
I shook my head. Yes, he was older than me, by a decade. I knew his birthday as readily as I knew my own. It didn't matter to me.
“You're so worldly and experienced, not just in sex, but in life.” I lifted my hand and waved it in front of me as I spoke. “I'm just starting out. Why would you want someone like me?”
I couldn’t stop my gaze from roaming his face, his chiseled chin and strong jaw, the heat in his eyes.
“I wanted you before I knew you were a virgin. When I found out you were innocent, untouched…” He shuddered, his gaze never leaving mine. “Knowing I'll be the only one to claim you, the only man to ever be in that sweet pussy of yours, makes me so fucking hard. I want every gasp of pleasure you ever make, every scream, all the wetness between your legs to belong to me.”
I felt hot all over. My nipples tightened and my panties were ruined. For nearly a year I’d never seen this side of Carter. He’d been all business, cold and professional. The heat he poured on now was melting all of my circuits. Controlled, calculating Carter was sexy as hell. But caveman Carter was damn near impossible to resist. The way he looked at me made my body ache, desperate for his cock. Desperate for him.
“I can see it in your eyes, sweetheart. You want me, too.”
I did. Oh, God. I did.
I couldn't deny it any longer. He'd come to the bar for
me and given me the most amazing sex of my life. I'd been the one to walk away, to leave him alone in his king sized bed. He hadn't loved 'em and left 'em. I had. I'd used him while he'd wanted more. Yet here he was. He’d come to my house, brought me flowers at work, asked me out to dinner like a gentleman and then told me he wanted to fuck my brains out, the words like pouring gasoline on a raging fire. And the ring. Hell, yes, I wanted him. Forever?
Absolutely. “I love you, Carter.”
He groaned at the three simple words and rose to take my chin in his hand. “About damn time I hear you say it.” He placed a slow, soft kiss on my lips and I melted. “I love you, Emma. Marry me.”
I still couldn't believe it. His actions backed his words, but still… “You love me?”
“I’ve been trying to tell you, but you’re damn stubborn.”
I laughed as he took my left hand and slid the ring onto my ring finger. It fit perfectly.
When it was in place, Carter didn’t let go of my hand, and he didn’t get up off his knees. He stared at me and I couldn't look away.
“Emma? Will you marry me?”
“Yes.”
Of course.
I threw myself in his arms. He caught me and I crushed my lips to his, eager to feel him hard and hot and real. God, this was real! He was mine.
We didn’t make it off the rug. I wanted to feel him, kiss him, fuck him, but my bed was too far away. I tugged at his shirt until I got him bare chested, pulling his undershirt off over his head. I threw it and reached for the hem of my own shirt, pulling it off.
Carter laughed at my eagerness, so different than the night before, but he didn't stop me. In fact, he helped. He had my bra unsnapped in seconds and I threw it behind me as his mouth dropped to first one nipple then the other, teasing me.
I gripped his hair and cried out at the hot pull.
I frowned when he stopped, a dark, needy bitch rising up from deep within. She’d been hibernating for a long, long time. Years. But Carter’s touch woke her up, and now she was greedy. She wanted more, more kisses, more touching, more Carter, naked and bossy and pumping into her with that wild look on his face.
