Wanted By You

by Steph Nuss

  She laughed. "Oh, God, that was funny. I'll never forget that day. You fell back and hit your head and spilled cereal everywhere. You had cereal in your hair and milk all over your clothes. It was adorable."

  "Adorable?"

  "Yeah," she said, running her hands up my chest. "You were this hot, god-like creature who screamed perfection one minute and then the next you were falling over and making a mess like the rest of us commoners." She winked at me and ran her fingers along my stubble. "I fell for you a little more that day, even though I didn't literally fall, like you did."

  "Very funny," I said, shaking my head at her as she laughed more. Her warm, fluttery laugh and the way her eyes sparkled and smiled along with her lips sent a rush of sensations through me. I picked her up and set her on top of the island, pulling her legs around my waist. I cradled her face in my hands and kissed her, and she pulled me deeper into her, where our tongues teased and played in the sweet taste of her wine. One of my hands skimmed down her throat and fingered the plunging neckline of her top, skating over the small swell of her breasts.

  She pulled back and raised a single brow at me. "Don't get any ideas, Mickey. My dad will be here any minute, and we are not having a quickie before then. We can have all the dessert we want after he leaves."

  "Mhmm," I hummed, sucking the tender flesh of her neck. Her head tilted to the side, giving me better access, and she moaned softly as my mouth travelled down to her breasts, my tongue mapping her soft, smooth curves. I imagined slipping her top off and sucking her breasts until she was dazed and confused and squirming underneath my touch. She leaned back again and lifted my head up.

  "Carter," she giggled, her voice soft but with an edge to it, "I mean it."

  Her brown eyes were heated with the same passion as mine, but I sighed and took a step back from her, hands raised. "I'll be good."

  She jumped off the counter and kissed me, and then whispered in a sexy voice, "I promise to make dessert worth the wait."

  "I know you will," I said, just as a knock sounded at the door.

  "And there's my dad," she said, slipping her hand into mine. She led me over to the door, smiling. It made me happy that she wasn't nervous about introducing us. After our fight last weekend, I wasn't exactly sure how she'd feel about tonight, even though she claimed she was ready. She opened the door and greeted her dad with a hug.

  "Dad, this is Carter Jennings," she said, smiling at me. "Carter, this is my dad, Keith Evans."

  He extended his hand and I reciprocated his firm handshake. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Evans."

  He nodded. "It's nice to meet you, too, but please, don't call me Mr. Evans. Mr. Evans was my dad, and he was a mean old bastard. Call me Keith."

  I nodded and closed the door behind him.

  "Okay, so we've got salad, baked potatoes, and pork chops," Elly said, filling her dad's wine glass. "Are you guys ready to eat or do we wanna sit around have some drinks first?"

  "I could eat," her dad said, looking around the kitchen.

  "Me too," I said, nodding.

  The three of us filled our plates with food and settled around the table. I pulled Elly's chair out for her and she sat down across from her dad, with me next to her. We loaded our baked potatoes with toppings, dressed our salads, and then dug in.

  "This is really good, Ell," her dad said, cutting off a piece of his pork chop.

  "Thanks. Mrs. J. gave me the recipe for the slow-cooker," she said, eyeing Stag. The large black lab was lying on the hardwood floor, slowly creeping closer and closer to the dining table. "Stag, get on your bed. You're not getting any people food."

  "Do you ever spoil that poor dog?" her dad teased, cutting off a piece of his pork. He tossed the piece of meat over to Stag, who caught it in his mouth—something I did on a regular basis.

  "Oh, yeah, like he's famished," she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "But yes, I spoil him. I give him doggie treats all the time, and just the other day I bought him a new chew toy." She waved her fork between her dad and me and raised her brows. "You guys are the ones who spoil him with people food."

  Her dad shook his head and smiled at me. "So, Carter, Elly tells me you're a professor. What made you want to teach?"

  I shrugged and picked up my wine. "I tutored in high school and college and realized it was something I was good at, so I decided to make a career out of it."

  Elly took a drink of her wine and smiled at me. "Back in college he didn't even have to go to class and he still aced all his courses."

  "What? Classes weren't as easy for you, dear?" her dad joked.

  "Hey, I still graduated summa cum laude. I just had to study and go to class all the time," she said, smiling.

  We laughed and talked more about my job and Elly's clinic while we finished up dinner. Her dad never talked about his basketball career or his job at ESPN, just chatted with us about our lives. He was the exact opposite of my dad. He was laid-back and didn't care about money or status. It was a nice change. Stephen Jennings never shut up about the success of the business, even though Jennings Oil Operations was handed to him on a multi-million dollar platter. His success was inherited. Elly's dad's success was actually earned, and that made me respect him even more.

  After dinner, when we headed into the living room, I noticed Elly's wine was almost empty, so I grabbed another bottle from the fridge. I sat down next to her on the loveseat and kissed her temple. "More wine?"

  "Please," she smiled, offering me her glass.

  I filled her glass and then offered the bottle to her dad. "Keith, more wine?"

  "I'm good," he said, petting Stag, who was sprawled on the leather cushions with his head resting on Keith's leg.

  We continued talking, and the more we talked, the more I liked him. We talked about the hobbies we enjoyed and which sport teams we favored. We talked about the World Series and how the college football season was going so far. When we ran out of sports-related things to talk about, Elly stood up and excused herself.

  "I'll be right back. I gotta use the restroom," she said.

  He watched her turn into the hallway and that's when he asked me a more serious question.

  "So, what do you want for your future, Carter?" he asked, not in a stern, what-are-your-intentions-toward-my-daughter way, but just out of polite curiosity. He didn't seem like he had a stern bone in his six-foot-five frame. He refilled his wine and relaxed back into the couch, giving me his full attention.

  "Elly's my future," I said, resting my ankle on top of my knee. "I want to spend the rest of my life making her happy, arguing with her, making babies, growing old together." I told her dad everything I wanted with her. Happiness. The good times and the bad. Crying babies. Aging bodies. "That's what I want for my future—or, our future."

  "Do you plan on staying in New York?" he asked bluntly. "Elly told me you're originally from Dallas. I just wonder if you ever see yourself wanting to move back."

  "No," I said, shaking my head. "My life is here now. I can get a job wherever, but Elly's clinic is here. All of our friends are here. You're here. I have a sister who lives here and another one who's planning to move up here, so I have family here, too. And I actually prefer New York to Texas."

  "I'm glad to hear that," he said with a smile. I couldn't miss the relief that flashed across his face when I said no to moving. He stared into his wine glass with a nostalgic look, sloshing around the maroon liquid. "You and Elly use the same pet names her mom and I used: Mickey and Sylvia." I wasn't even aware we used them tonight, but we must have, since he noticed it. He smiled at me and continued. "Karen loved that damn Dirty Dancing movie. It used to drive me crazy every time she wanted to watch it. I think she had it memorized almost word for word."

  I laughed and thought back to the times Elly and I had watched it together. We probably knew all the lines by now, too. "Yeah, I remember the first time I watched it with Elly. It was right at the beginning of our second semester, freshmen year, and we were in her dorm room
. She started crying in the middle of it and didn't tell me why until after the movie was over. She grabbed a piece of cake out of her mini fridge and two forks and told me it was her mom's birthday."

  "Karen would've liked you," he said confidently.

  "I'd like to know more about her."

  "Oh, you already know her," he said, taking a drink of his wine. "Elly's so much like her mom. It's almost scary sometimes. She sounds just like her, looks like her, and her mannerisms are similar to her mom's. It's just—"

  We heard Elly's heels clacking against the wood floor and turned to see her walking back toward us. She curled up next to me and smiled at both of us. "What are you guys talking about?"

  "Nothing," we replied in unison.

  "Great," she said, looking back and forth between the two of us. "So, you were talking about me."

  We smiled and shook our heads, and I kissed her temple. "It was nothing bad."

  "I'm sure it wasn't," she said, eyeing her dad. "Which embarrassing story from my youth did you tell?"

  "How could I choose one embarrassing story from your youth? There are so many," he teased.

  "Oh, whatever." She laughed, shaking her head. She looked back at me innocently. "There really aren't that many."

  "I'm sure there aren't," I said, smiling back at her. She relaxed back into my side and when her dad excused himself I brought my lips to her ear and whispered, "I have enough stories from college, anyway. Like that one time you got high and danced on the table at that frat party."

  "You told him that!?"

  "No, I'm not an idiot," I said, rubbing my hand up and down her thigh. "I want dessert later."

  Her dad came back from the bathroom and we talked for another hour or so, and after we finished off a third bottle of wine he was ready to call it a night.

  "It was nice getting to know you, Carter," he said, shaking my hand again. "Maverick told you about poker night this Friday, right?"

  "Yeah, I'll be there."

  "Good," he said, patting me on the shoulder. He leaned down and hugged Elly. "Thanks for dinner, sweetie."

  "Thanks for coming over," she said as she let him go.

  He waved back at us as he closed the door behind him, and Elly flipped the locks. She turned around and I saw a sexy gleam dancing in her eyes. That look alone made all the blood in my body rush straight to my dick. She started removing her clothes, piece by piece, and pushed me back into the kitchen. I leaned against the counter and my eyes ran down the length of her as she revealed her black bra and matching thong. The black lace against her fair skin looked sexy as hell, calling to mind a million fantasies of us having sex in her kitchen.

  She pressed against me and kissed me hard while she quickly undid my jeans. A naughty smile played at her lips, and she slid my jeans and boxers down to my ankles and dropped to her knees.

  "Looks like someone's up for some dessert," she purred, placing a kiss on my inner thigh.

  "When am I not?"

  God, I want that beautiful mouth of hers.

  She never broke eye contact as she kissed one thigh and then the other, pressing kisses to my flesh. My breathing grew heavier as she placed light, warm kisses along my groin, alternately sucking, licking, and kissing.

  White-knuckled, I held onto the kitchen counter for support. I felt like a stick of dynamite ready to explode into a million pieces from the anticipation she was building up inside of me. I wanted her warm, silky mouth on me more than I wanted my next breath.

  When she gripped me and started moving her hands up and down, tunnel vision set in, and all I saw was her taking me in, her tongue swirling around like she really was feasting on dessert.

  "Oh, God." The way she looked, watching me watch her pleasure both of us, was damn near indescribable. I knew she loved watching me come undone just as much as I loved undoing her. She was like an evil angel torturing me with pleasure. Her eyes never left mine as she continued twirling her tongue around in tandem with her hands, as if she was taking every inch of me inside of her.

  Tension shot down my spine when she took me in deeper, and I tried my best to hold back. My breathing grew more labored as her skilled mouth pushed me closer and closer to the edge, and when she started massaging the sweet spot on the underside of my dick, I knew was done for. I couldn't hold back any longer.

  "Babe," I shuddered, warning her of my closeness. But before I could lift her up, she grew more enthusiastic. My eyes rolled back in my head and her suction softened as I finally let go.

  "Have I told you how much I love you?" I asked, lifting her onto the kitchen island.

  "Ah! Cold countertop!" she shrieked when her ass cheeks hit the black granite. "But I love hearing how much you love me."

  "I love you," I said, smiling back at her deviously, removing her bra. "Now, lean back and put your arms over your head and hold onto the edge of the counter." She complied, arching her naked chest up at me as I removed her thong and worked on discarding the rest of my clothes.

  "How was the dessert?" she asked playfully.

  "You're about to find out."

  She looked absolutely perfect all sprawled out, her long, lean legs locked around me and her perky little nipples already hard. I slid my elbows onto the counter next to her naked chest and placed a hard kiss against her mouth. Hovering over her, I blew warm air down the middle of her body, from the hollow of her throat all the way to her aching center, making her legs quiver and raising goose bumps along her skin.

  I kissed down the inside of her thighs and then ran my nose through her, smelling the sweet, musky scent of her before I tasted her.

  "Ohmigawd," she whimpered, arching her back more, tightening her legs around my shoulders. Her arms started shaking from her tight grip and, desperate for release, she tossed her head back, panting for air. Gripping her hips tight, I pulled her in farther, sucking until orgasm shook through every nerve in her body; then I jumped up on the countertop and climbed on top of her.

  "How was the dessert?" I said, my lips brushing hers.

  She lowered her arms and held onto my waist. "So good," she said in between labored breaths. Her feet ran up the backs of my legs and I placed light kisses all over her chest and neck.

  "I heard what you said," she breathed, running her fingers through my hair.

  "Oh, yeah?" I asked, not sure what she was referring to. I looked down at her, and she tilted her head to the side and laced our fingers together.

  "Yeah, I heard what you wanted for your future."

  "You've always been my future," I said, kissing her soft, swollen lips.

  "Whether it was nine seconds from the moment I saw you or nine years from then."

  "You're my future, too," she said.

  "Good," I said, finally pushing into her, "Because there's a lot more dessert in our future."

  Chapter Twenty

  Ellyson

  It was Saturday evening and I'd just finished blow-drying my hair when I joined Carter on the couch. He was watching college football, flipping back and forth between games. I cuddled up next to him and ran a hand up the back of his neck and through his soft, brown hair. He showered every day at my place, but I still couldn't figure out how his hair ended up so soft. I used conditioner and my hair wasn't that soft. Probably just those amazing Jennings genes … which reminded me of his sister and our dinner plans with her tonight.

  "What does your sister do for a living?" I asked curiously. "I don’t think you've ever told me where either of your sisters work."

  "Bayler's a baker at a cake shop in Dallas," he said, sliding his arm over the back of the couch. "And Harper designs clothes."

  "Wow, really?" I asked, completely shocked. I didn't know that much about fashion, but Paige did. I figured she would've told me if she knew Carter's sister was a designer. Everything Paige owned was designer.

  "Yep."

  "I guess I've never heard of her before," I said.

  "She doesn't use her real name," he said, switching the channels
. "She designs under Jen Harper."

  What. Did. He. Just. Say!?

  "Wh-what did you just say?" I asked, glaring over at him.

  "I know. It's just her first and last name switched around and then shortened."

  "Carter!" I squealed, jumping up from the couch. I ran my hands through my hair and started pacing behind the couch.

  "What's wrong?"

  "What's wrong?!" I shrieked, scowling back at him. "What's wrong is that you waited until an hour before dinner to tell me that your sister is some world-renowned fashion designer! Like, celebrities wear her clothes on red carpets, Carter! What the hell am I supposed to wear to dinner with her?!"

  "To be fair, you never asked me what she did until just now, so …"

  "Ohmigawd!" I snapped, shaking my head at him. I wanted to throw up and strangle him all at the same time. My breathing became erratic as I paced, mentally shuffling through my closet. What could I wear? What could I wear? Most of the nice clothes I had in my closet were Jen Harper clothes! Would she judge me if I wore something of hers, thinking I was just trying to impress her; or would she judge me for not wearing her stuff? Maybe if I wore something of hers from a few years ago she wouldn't notice. Of course, she'll notice. If Paige would notice, the actual designer would fucking notice.

  I snatched my phone off the coffee table and started tapping out a message to Paige.

  "What are you doing?" Carter asked with a sigh.

  "Texting Paige so she can help me figure out what to wear."

  Me: Carter just told me his sister, Harper Jennings, is in fact *the* Jen Harper. We're having dinner with her in an hour. What the hell am I supposed to wear to have dinner with a fashion designer/boyfriend's older sister!?

  Paige: OMG! I'll be right over…to kill him!

  Me: He may already be dead before you get here. You're welcome to come to dinner in his place if that's the case.

  Paige: Lol, cute.

  "Why are you making such a big deal out of this?" he asked, shaking his head. "Your dad's more famous than my sister is."