by Cassie Cross
“Where’s the-”
“Food?” he asked, grinning. “Warming in the oven. I thought we could talk a little first, get to know each other. I’m sure there are some things you want to ask me, and there are definitely some things I want to ask you. We can eat later, unless you’re hungry now?”
I shook my head. “I can wait to eat, but I don’t have any questions,” I said before I could fully think about the words that were coming out of my mouth.
Carter laughed as he pressed the mouth of the bottle to a glass and poured. “You don’t?”
Might as well be honest, I figured. “I Googled you.”
“You did?” He handed me a glass, then poured one for himself. “Isn’t that considered internet stalking?” he teased.
“Or it’s a smart move for a girl like me, who gets invited to a stranger’s house for dinner.”
“You came, so you couldn’t have found anything too incriminating.”
“Not really,” I replied.
“So tell me, Chloe. What do you know about me?” His eyes sparkled under the warm glow of the kitchen lights.
I took a sip of wine, enjoying the flavor on my tongue. “You’re twenty seven, the middle son to Claire and Michael Armstrong, both heirs to shipping fortunes. You graduated from Penn after a brief, ill-fated stint at Yale. You have two brothers and one sister.”
Carter looked at me, his piercing eyes making it difficult for me to turn away. “Those are a lot of facts, but not the important things. Besides, you’re at an advantage; I’m easy to look up. It’s much harder to find dirt on you.”
I laughed, gently swirling the wine in my glass. “You could always hire someone to dig up my past. I’m sure you have the resources.”
He nodded and smiled. “I do, but I’d rather you tell me.”
“There’s not much to tell.”
“Let me be the judge of that.”
I shrugged, looking down at the red in my glass. “I’m twenty three, the youngest of two kids. I was raised by a single mother, and worked my way through college so I could have a better life.”
Carter took a deep breath, setting his wine down on the counter and moving closer to me, his tall frame overshadowing me. He reached up, slid the back of his index finger down the slope of my jaw, and there went those damned goosebumps again.
“Chloe,” he said, all soft and amused, like it was his favorite word. “Tell me something about you that I can’t find on your Facebook profile.”
I sighed and closed my eyes. “I’m scared of sharks and bees. I love the way letters look when they’re printed on paper, love the smell of the leather binding of my favorite book.”
“Is that what led you to get a job at a publishing house?” he asked.
I looked up at him, eyes wide. I hadn’t told him that. He must’ve recognized the vague beginnings of panic in my eyes, because he was quick to explain.
“I asked Paige about you,” he said, smiling. “It was all above the board, promise.”
I laughed, kind of nervous. “I like reading, that’s what led me to get a job at a publishing house. I read through manuscripts, plucking the gems from the scrap pile.”
“Do you write?”
“No,” I replied, shaking my head. “I lack the discipline, and the talent. I’m just a reader, I love books.”
“Discipline is overrated,” he said, reaching out and taking my hand. “Come, I have something I’d like to show you.”
He led me out of the kitchen and down a long, narrow hallway, to a large wooden door on the right. When he opened the door, city light was flooding through the windows that stretched two stories high, casting a romantic glow across the immaculate wooden floors.
The room was full of floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, each one lined with carefully placed books. There was a glass case to the right, which I guessed probably held first editions. First editions. I was in awe.
Carter didn’t turn on the lights, but the moonlight was enough to see by.
“May I?” I asked, nodding toward one of the shelves.
“Absolutely.”
I walked over to the shelf closest to me, and ran my fingers along the spines. These were American classics, alphabetized by author. A few shelves down, English literature. All leather-bound, well-loved.
When I turned, Carter was a few paces behind me, closer than I expected, but somehow still too far away. I had expected a garage full of expensive, flashy cars or state-of-the-art technology, and maybe he had those things somewhere. But he chose to show me this, this room that made me want to close my eyes, breathe deep, and get lost in someone else’s world.
Maybe, just maybe, there was more to him than I’d thought.
“Have you read all these?” I asked.
“Not yet,” he replied, stepping closer. “But I will.”
He surprised me, again. I knew he was intelligent, but I had this idea of him out partying and doing billionaire things, not inside this library, reading more books than I could ever imagine owning.
“What?” he asked.
I shrugged. “I’m just surprised by you.”
“Why?” He reached out, placed his hand right next to mine on the shelf.
“I thought you’d have cars, yachts. Expensive toys, not a roomful of books. Not that you can’t have all of those things, but I just didn’t think you’d show me something like this to try to impress me.”
He let out a short laugh, a sad kind of smile on his lips. “I’m not trying to impress you, Chloe. This? It’s me. Cars are useless to me here in the city, and what would I do with a yacht? I like the smell of paper and glue, and old books and history. I like to think about the stories of the people who have read and loved these books,” he said, closing the gap between us. He rested his hand on mine, slowly twisting our fingers together, and my breath just caught right in my throat. “Do you know how many people fell asleep turning these pages? How many hands held these covers after a hard day’s work? The book contains a story, but the book is a story, too. I like stories. I want to read as many of them as I can.”
The look in his eyes was too intense, too full of meaning for someone I’d just met, so I turned, trying to get some distance between us. But Carter followed me, catching my waist with his arm, pulling me against his body so that my back melded against his chest. And god help me, it felt right.
I slid my hand across his strong forearm and the fingertips of his other hand ghosted along the straps of my dress as he leaned in, the stubble on his chin tickling my shoulder.
“Tell me, Chloe,” he whispered, his hands drifting down my ribs, along the curve of my hips. “If I opened you up, what kinds of stories would I find?”
I turned in his arms, fisted his shirt between my fingers, and pulled his lips to mine.
CHAPTER FIVE
It was a frantic kiss, the kind that made my toes curl, made me wrap my arms around this man to cling to him, to get as close to him as I possibly could. I just wanted him, wanted his five o’clock shadow scratching against my skin, wanted his fingers twisting in my hair, wanted his tongue brushing against mine. And it was so easy to get lost in him, to lose myself in the feeling of his calloused hands sliding across my thighs, the feel of his muscled chest against mine.
Before I knew it, Carter pressed me up against a pillar, using it for leverage to lift me up, his mouth everywhere. I wrapped my legs around his waist, feeling his erection against my thigh, and I ground against him, drawing the most amazing sound from his throat: half sigh, half moan. I fumbled with the buttons on the collar of his shirt, desperate to put my mouth on him, wanting to start with the warm column of his neck.
“Fuck,” he said as I licked and nipped at his skin there, laving my tongue across his Adam’s apple. “I’ve been imagining this ever since you walked into my office.”
There was something about that sentence that made the hormone-induced fog in my brain clear long enough for me to see clearly to the other side of tonight. Not that I wanted
a relationship with Carter, at least, I wasn’t completely sure that I did. But this wasn’t me. It wasn’t me.
The Chloe Moore that I’d spent twenty three years on this earth being didn’t go over to a billionaire’s house and have sex with him against a pillar in his own personal library. The Chloe Moore I knew liked sweet kisses and first dates, high thread count sheets and foreplay.
“Wait,” I said, pressing on his chest. “Stop.”
He did, immediately. “What’s wrong?” he asked, cupping my cheek.
I sighed and dropped my head, because it was too difficult to look into those half-lidded, lust-filled eyes.
“Nothing,” I said, sliding my legs down until my feet were on the floor. I was anything but steady though, my knees all wobbly from being kissed by the most gorgeous man I’d ever had my hands (and lips) on. I had him, here, right within my grasp; wanting, kissing, touching, tasting. And I was going to walk away. “I have to go.”
I walked as quickly as I could, making my way to the elevator, frantically pressing the button. It wasn’t unlike the rush I was in last night in the lobby of his building, except for this time, instead of wanting desperately to get to him, I was desperate to get away. I couldn’t think when I was around that man, couldn’t trust myself at all.
I could hear him running after me, calling my name. Just then the doors opened and I stepped inside, sliding my fingers along the curve of my neck, still feeling the delicious sting from his stubble.
“Wait!” he yelled reaching his arm out, and then he was standing in the elevator in front of me, the doors sliding closed behind him. I hadn’t pushed a button, so we just stood there, looking at each other. Unmoving. Too close in this small space.
And when I looked into his bright, beautiful eyes, I couldn’t remember all the reasons why I thought this was a bad idea. What was wrong with wanting him? What was wrong with reaching out and taking what he was giving, when he was so ready and willing to give it? What was wrong with feeling, when that feeling was so, so good?
Carter reached up, tracing the edge of my bottom lip with the pad of his thumb, watching me intently. I could barely breathe for wanting, could barely think because he was standing so close. Then his hand slipped behind my neck, his fingers threaded through my hair, and he tilted my head back, putting my neck on offer for his kisses.
He pressed his needy lips to my skin, and this time I let him. I let him.
“You make my heart feel like it’s beating out of my chest,” I told him as he laved his tongue across my collarbone, slipping the strap of my dress off of my shoulder. “And I don’t usually do this…” I gasped as he pulled the bodice of my dress down, taking one side of my bra with it. He cupped my breast, then gently bit at the top, calming the sting with his tongue. “Ah, I mean…one-night stands.”
“Mmm-hmm,” he hummed as his lips brushed across my nipple, then his tongue flicked out, teasing it into a stiff peak. “Who says this is one night?”
“Oh my god,” I breathed. “I…I like cuddling and foreplay.”
“Who doesn’t?” His hand traveled down my side, tickling the skin on the outside of my thigh. Then he lifted my leg, hooking my heel on the railing to his right. I leaned back on the rail behind me, gripping it with both of my hands. If I didn’t hold onto something, I was sure I would float away.
Carter licked and sucked at my breast, making my head loll back as I slowly, steadily lost control. “I like breakfast in bed. Belgian waffles with strawberry compote and a pile of whipped cream as big as my head, oh…okay? Ah!”
Carter looked up, a goofy, endearing smile on his lips. “That’s oddly specific,” he said, laughing. The warm puffs of breath against my heated skin made me shiver, and I wished I could just…shut up.
As if Carter could read my mind, knew I was nervously babbling away to distract myself from the fact that he was kissing and touching me, he brought his mouth to mine, our lips moving together as he licked into my mouth, his tongue sliding against mine as he brushed his palm across my ankle, up my calf, and along the inside of my thigh. He ran his hand along the edge of my panties, pulling the fabric aside so he could slide his fingers along my slit.
I sucked in a sharp breath through my teeth, which made Carter let out a low, rumbling laugh. He had me and he knew it.
“Where do you want my mouth?” he asked, reaching up and plucking my nipple between his fingers, giving it a firm pull that made me gasp. “Here?” he said, kissing along the swell of my breast.
“Yes,” I breathed.
While his mouth was busy, he teased me with his hands, pressing his fingers against my heated flesh, right where I was wet and ready for him. I bucked my hips against his palm, desperate for more friction, more pressure, more anything, but all that did was make him pull back. He was such a bastard the way he made me want more.
“Here?” he said, sliding his stubbly chin down the valley between my breasts, then taking the lace cup of the other side of my bra between his teeth and pulling it down before taking my nipple into his mouth.
I nodded and sighed. I think I might’ve said yes with actual words, but that part’s not so clear.
And then he sunk down to his knees and ran his hand down my leg that was propped up against the elevator railing. He kissed his way from my ankle to the inside of my thigh, stubble rubbing against my sensitive skin, his lips leaving goosebumps in their wake.
“Here?” he asked, pressing a kiss to the inside of my knee.
“Mmm…higher.”
Carter laughed. “Patience.”
Then he slid his hands up my other leg, smooth caresses that both relaxed and aroused me. How did he manage to have such an effect by just rubbing circles on my skin? My leg started shaking, my nerves and excitement just too much to hold me up, and I leaned back against the wall.
“I’m gonna fall,” I said, kind of breathy. I felt like I should’ve been embarrassed, that a man I’d known for such a short time had such a hold on me, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. He was making me feel too good for me to care.
“I’ve got you.” Carter took the leg that was barely managing to hold me upright and slung it over his broad, muscled shoulder as he gripped my skirt and pulled it taut to the side, giving him full access and me an unimpeded view of what he was doing to me.
He disposed of my panties with a firm tug, and I didn’t even care, just swiveled my hips to get closer to his mouth, waiting for him to tease me, but it never happened. He placed gentle, sweet kisses to the crux of my thighs, then licked my slit, laving his tongue against my clit, driving me higher and higher with gentle licks and sucks and kisses. When I thought I couldn’t take anymore, he slid two fingers inside of me, crooking them in time with his licks, leaving me breathless. I gripped the back of Carter’s head as my own head lolled back against the wall and I closed my eyes and just let myself feel. I brought my hand down to grip at his fist, the fabric of my dress bunched between his fingers. I leveraged my weight against his shoulders, moving in time with his mouth. The pleasure built up like the tide inside of me, small waves getting bigger and bigger, lapping against my skin.
“Ah,” I cried, “I’m gonna…I’m…”
I couldn’t get the words out, but he understood, altering his rhythm, licking slow circles around my clit, twisting and pumping his fingers in time with my heavy breaths until I tensed around him, moaning as I came, all the blood in my body rushing to where his mouth met my skin.
Carter kept rubbing my thighs and I caressed the back of his head as I came down, breathing heavily. Then he stood, gently placing my feet back on the ground and pulling me in for a kiss. His tongue met mine and I could taste myself on him.
“That was…” Nice, I wanted to say. Perfect, amazing. But those words wouldn’t even begin to cover what it was that I just felt.
“That was just the beginning,” he said with fire in his eyes.
CHAPTER SIX
In the still quietness of the elevator, all I could hea
r was the quick huff of our exhales as our breathing returned to normal and the soft, wet sounds of Carter’s mouth against mine. He trailed kisses from my lips to my cheek, down my neck to my collarbone, and even though I was still coming down from an orgasm, I was ready for another one. Ready for him.
“Shouldn’t we go inside?” I said breathlessly as I looked at the elevator doors. An alarm hadn’t gone off despite the fact that we’d been in here for a while, so I figured we were good, but I still thought I’d ask. I wasn’t sure my legs would hold me anyway.
Carter pushed a tendril of hair behind my ear as he kissed his way up my throat. “Soon,” he murmured. “Can’t…wait.”
I reached down, running my palm along Carter’s erection, which was straining against his pants. He groaned, trusting up against my hand as he caught my earlobe between his teeth. Still perched on the railing and trusting Carter not to let me slip, I reach down and fumbled with his buckle. As I tried to work off his belt, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, sliding a condom out from one of the slots. For one brief, shining moment, the lust-filled haze in my brain cleared, and I wondered if he put it in there specifically for tonight. I wanted him to, I hoped he had.
“Let me,” I said against his lips as we kissed. When we parted, I ripped the condom wrapper open with my teeth, while Carter pushed his pants down. He hissed when I touched him, taking my time as I rolled on the condom, letting him lick his way down my neck.
His hand slid up into my hair and he cradled my head as his lips found mine again, and we were just sort of there in the moment for a bit; me stroking him, and him getting a little weak in the knees as he learned every inch of my skin he could reach.
The touching and kissing was nice, it was perfect. But I wanted, no…needed more.
“I want you,” he breathed against my mouth. “I just…”
“I know,” I replied, skimming the tips of my nails along his scalp, loving the soft moan he let out at the contact.
