by Pamela Ann
Well, hell, if he wanted to chill with others, he could go right ahead. He didn’t have to pretend to be a social host if he didn’t want to be. It was just me after all.
“Something wrong?” I pressed, hoping he’d shed some light on his one hundred and eighty degree attitude shift.
He paused, really looking at me this time. “Should something be wrong?”
Right, why was he acting so standoffish? It was throwing me for a loop. “No, of course not… it’s just that…” I trailed off while I saw him raise his brow. “You’re acting weird. That’s all.”
His dark eyes became intense. Moving his face a tad closer to me, he asked, “Weird?” His brows furrowed. “Weird, how?”
You’re usually all over me, I wanted to say, but held off. The words were on the tip of my tongue, yet I was too embarrassed to say them. “Never mind.” Chicken…
“If you say so.” He shrugged, not caring. “Gotta go say hi to some friends. See you later, Ems.” He nodded his chin at me and then had the audacity to tap my shoulder as he walked away, heading straight back to the woman he had been talking with when we came in.
WTF was up with him? Why, after all these months, did he choose tonight to be a dickwad again?
I wasn’t going to lie, Carter pretending that I was of no importance bothered me more than I would like to admit, but I wasn’t going to make that known.
We were, after all, free agents. Ex’s was all we were, nothing more. Besides, wasn’t I mending a battered and shattered heart? So why, oh why, did it tick me off watching him talk and laugh with Cami? Yep, it was getting more confusing by the second. But, I wasn’t going to let it get to me. You see, I had a companion tonight, Mister Jack Daniels. He too was just as hot, just as bold and just as full-bodied as my exes.
Carter was messing with my head. As for Bass… Well, he could go fuck himself, too. Men were pointless.
Look at me. I was already contemplating dropping out of my classes—yet again—for the second time because my brain was just so unfocused. Lindsey tried to convince me to do online classes like she was doing this semester, but honestly, I felt completely lost. So lost that I was even considering dropping out of the movie that was set to go into production soon.
I was becoming unstable. Unreliable. Worthless. All because of all this bullshit around me. Had I told them to just shove it in their behinds, I wouldn’t be so messed up at the moment.
Okay, so I was feeling unloved, unwanted and even though I was wearing something cute and sexy, the fact that Carter didn’t even bat an eyelash at my costume, made me feel really fugly. Yeah, fucking ugly.
So to hell with all these bullshitters. Tonight, I was going to own it like a rockstar. The rest of the world could just back the fuck off.
After slamming my drink down in one gulp, all I needed to do was find my target. He needed to be a good-looking, sexy distraction.
Was I losing my mind? Probably, but you know what? I was going to let go and just live tonight. Damn straight, I had to start living, I thought as I made my way towards the dance floor. After all the pain and rejection—not to mention the endless supply of tears—I think I needed a night of fun. Heck, months of fun, if need be. Seriously.
“Dance with me.” I pulled at the closest looking athlete I could find. It didn’t even bother me that he was talking to another woman because, tonight, I didn’t give a rat’s ass about anyone. Tonight was about me.
The muscular man tensed, about to be pissed with me. “You can’t just yank me… and—” The jock scanned me up and down before grinning wickedly. “Damn girl, you’re really hot.”
Fuck.
Yes.
I so was.
I grinned back, touching the V of his shirt with my fingertips. “Feel like combining our hotness and see how we sizzle together?” I gave him a come-hither smile. Okay, my lines needed work, but fuck it. I’d been out of the game for so long, it was understandable that I was quite rusty with these situations. Yet my trick worked because the guy was now pulling me against his body, hands plastered all over me.
This was me facing my fears my own way.
As we danced, the nameless man’s hands roamed. I mean, seriously roamed big time around my body. Spinning around, I raised my arm and was about to dip it low when a sudden force yanked me away from the man’s body. The immediate withdrawal and the turn of events after made my alcohol-induced body boggled. I was about to tug away from the intruder, but when I looked up, I found dark eyes burning holes through me, promising Hell was about to come raining down on me if I didn’t get a grip of myself.
“Emma!” Carter hissed, pulling me away before dragging me across the room.
With my four-inch heels on, I was having a hard time keeping up with him without faltering. “Hey. Stop.” I said, hoping to slow down before I tripped twice in these suckers that were pinching my feet, however his grip got tighter around my wrist. “Stop!” I screeched. “Carter!”
He brought us down towards his wine cellar/game room. He dragged me across the room, spun a red-leathered chair around and dumped me in it, nose flaring, before he stomped across the bar, got a tray laden with shot glasses on them before pouring Belvedere in all of them and marched back towards me.
Sliding the tray towards me against the wooden table, he pierced me with hard eyes. “Drink.”
He wasn’t the boss of me. Certainly not tonight, not fucking ever. “Fuck. You,” I spat at him, matching his gaze.
“If you want to be a dirty, drunken little slut, well, here’s your chance.” He nodded towards the tray of shots. Those dark eyes were giving me serious hate before he placed both of his hands on the table, leveling his eyes at me. “Get drunk. Dance. Heck, take your clothes off if it makes you feel better. You can do whatever you want, but you can only do it here where no one can see you, take a picture of you and blast it all over the internet. No man would dare touch you, especially not in my fucking house. Not here, Emma. Not under my fucking roof, and most especially, not where I can easily see what the fuck you’re up to. You don’t disrespect me like that.” His jaw was locked, his teeth grinding down together.
Pressing my lips together, I snatched a glass and raised it at him. “Here’s to you and your slutty dick. Five vaginas a la carte. For breaking my heart. For fucking with my mind so that I had to keep shit from my then boyfriend to keep you a secret because, fuck, I thought that I might still have feelings for you. But you know what? You can keep your cheating, deceitful, orgy-obsessed dick all to yourself. Cheers to that!” I took the shot, downing the entire contents like a pro. Carter was going to hear it from me. With all my hate between him and Bass, I could rant all night long.
On to the next shot. I raised it again, my voice packed with rage. “Here’s to men who can’t keep their dicks inside their pants, and for love gone to waste because I chose you and Bass, and both of you trampled my trust. For fucking with my head so much, thank you for showing me that love is pure and utter bullshit.” His eyes sparked fire before I downed my second shot.
Yep, I could do this all night long. Hopefully by then, each shot would be like drinking water. I’m sure I could get used to this.
“Keep going. Let it all out. I want to hear how you really feel about my slutty dick,” he urged on, angry.
Ha! He wasn’t happy about that reference to his dick. Ha. Funny. Ha.
Raging on, I took hold of my third shot while my eyes spat fire at him. “I hate your cheating dick! If you had kept it to yourself—” I started getting even more furious by the second as I recalled that boathouse scene I had witnessed. “Maybe we’d still be together and I wouldn’t have been with Bass and experienced the most excruciating pain known to mankind.” Placing the shot glass back on the stained wooden table, I twirled it around, spilling some alcohol on the side. “Had you not cheated on me, I’d still be with you…” I choked up, remembering the feeling of neglect and the profound pain it had brought me. “You broke me then, Carter,” I whispered,
feeling empty within. “But now Bass—” I murmured, having a hard time describing what I was going through at the moment; the betrayal, most of all. “Bass stole something from me… and I’m afraid that I might never get it back.” He so did. Now look at me, a dwindling shell of an old Emma while the bastard probably is busy playing precious family with that Russian tart, I thought acidly as I took the vodka shot, burning my throat. I didn’t even blink from the acrid pain.
I was never going to be the same. I knew that, but accepting it was the hardest part. Baby steps, one day I’d get there.
Carter moved behind me before wrapping his arms around my neck and whispering into my ear, “Do you feel better now?”
Okay, I wasn’t going to lie; his technique worked a bit. “A little.”
“Good, at least I helped somehow.”
His breath tickled me, making me squirm and gasp at the same time. I was completely turned on. Given the amount of alcohol that was in my system, I could do whatever I wanted tonight and I wouldn’t remember it the next morning. “Carter, you’re turning me on. Stop…” Yeah, I didn’t sound convincing at all.
He groaned, grabbing hold of the back of my chair and twisting it around, facing him. “Emma… come with me upstairs.” His thumb lingered on the lining of my skirt, caressing my heated skin while his eyes devoured me, not masking what his intent was for the rest of the evening. “We can party in my room all night long if you like. We’ll do whatever you want. Whatever pleases you, but spend the night with me. You won’t remember him by tomorrow, trust me.”
Cocky much? “Trying to fuck me still, huh?” I wanted to sound irritated, but it somehow ended up like I was breathless for him, for his touch and the very feel of him. It bothered me… a lot.
Carter didn’t even respond. His eyes did the talking. And boy, what those dark eyes could do to a woman. It was petrifying to be the intimate object they were scrutinizing. I felt hot. Stifled. Anxious. Bothered; there goes that word again. It just wouldn’t leave me for some reason.
Dark. Hungry. Eyes. Fucked me on the spot.
“I’m going home,” I announced before turning around and almost running out the door. For some odd reason, I couldn’t take the heat—what those looks entailed—I just fucking couldn’t. Carter and Bass had both thrown my heart in the gutter. Why should I give Carter a boost in his confidence by letting him know that, yes, he was still affecting me, greatly.
Walking along the side pavement, I felt his presence behind me. Though he was stealthy, his scent gave him away. Carter’s scent was one of a kind, just like Bass’s. Put me in a dark room full of sweaty men and I could still tell which was which.
The walk from his house to ours only was only five minutes, but it seemed that time dragged on. It probably was because I was wearing extreme high heels.
Sighing, I started feeling bad about how the night had turned out. “Why are you doing this? Cami might start looking for you soon,” I addressed him, still walking ahead.
“I need to know you’re safe. I wouldn’t forgive myself if something happened to you.”
That was nice of him, really. I mean, after all the shit I said earlier, I wouldn’t even want to face me at the moment. The appropriate thing to do was thank him, however I couldn’t even muster that. My emotions were all over the place. Top that with the fact that I was a drunken biatch, and I had a lot of word vomit still waiting to happen.
Silently we walked. Therefore, I was left with my own thoughts spinning around in my head. When we reached my house, I turned around and faced him. He had his hands in his pockets, eyeing me with intensity.
“Goodnight,” I murmured, unsure if I should say something or dash inside the house and wave him goodbye.
“Goodnight.” Carter moved closer and bent down to kiss me. He kissed the spot that was only a tad close to my lips. Had his bottom lip moved a centimeter, he would be touching my own. When his tongue snuck out to taste the spot where he kissed me, I shivered in terror, disgust and thrilling anticipation. “Can I kiss you goodnight for old time’s sake?”
A kiss. What’s the harm in a kiss?
Nada…
Closing my eyes, I gave a breathless nod before I heard his sharp breath as he softly pressed those hungry lips of his against my own quivering ones.
Damn. Carter was having me for a late night snack and, man, was he ever hungry. The words ran about in my mind as he growled hungrily, pushing me against the door.
Without the use of words, Carter didn’t give me the time to think—to pause a moment to gather my bearings—he simply took over. Suavely, he took the key from my hands and inserted it in the keyhole, kissing me the whole time. It was slick, but heck, this was Carter after all.
Picking me up, he opened the door, never parting with my lips. With my arms encircled around his neck, I felt him climb up the stairs as we made out before finally coming right outside my bedroom door. Then, he carried me all the way through to my bed.
Chapter 22
Carter
This was it, this was it, I thought with excitement and new purpose. Emma might be sad about Bass now, but I could step into his shoes, make her forget him. I had done it before, I could do it again. She’d eventually forget him.
Just like what she said earlier, had it not been for my cheating, we’d still be together now. And fuck, I wanted that chance so bad. Right now, my woman was kissing me back, no holds barred. Tonight was mine. Tonight, I was going to seal this; our future, together. I knew it might not be the best of times, knowing that she was still in love with Bass, but fuck, when a big opportunity comes your way, you fucking grab hold of it and seize it. This was mine.
I had come a long way from the tortured guy to a man who knew how to love. Shit after shit punched me down, but I was going to risk getting hurt again because I couldn’t live without this woman, my Emma.
I tried to flirt; fuck, I’d tried to see if I could do the whole nine yards and finally take another woman that wasn’t Emma in bed, but when it had been time to pull the trigger with Cami, I couldn’t fucking do it. I even tried it with Ashley with the same result. As hot as the women were, Emma’s face wouldn’t leave my mind. It was her who I wanted to be with, and I was going to follow my heart, even if it led me to more heartache.
Even if my brain was telling me that this was not the way to go, my heart was taking the wheel, ready to take what Emma had for me. What I did was messed up and now I believed we were paying a high price for that mistake. Had it not been for me, we wouldn’t have separated, nor would I have had to witness another man sweeping in and taking my baby away.
I was the first. Her man. Her first, deep, crucial love. I knew, deep down, there were feelings left for me. Although, at the moment, she might be too consumed with her pain, she probably didn’t know what to do anymore. Enough of that, I was going to take charge and heal us together.
“Baby,” I groaned, running my hands down her thighs before cupping her nice, supple ass that drove men crazy. Slowly lowering her down on the bed, I was taken aback when Emma immediately started pulling my clothes off.
“Let me feel your body, Carter,” she moaned, running her hands over my chest, over my nipple, making me hiss and groan at the same time that my cock hardened at the thought of sliding inside of her. It had been so long, so fucking long. I didn’t even care to think or count how long it had been for me. I had vowed that the woman I would be with next was Emma, and the knowledge that I was only a breath away from seizing her body once more, made me shiver in anticipation.
Emma ripped her top off, paralyzing me for a second while my eyes devoured her perfect tits that I’d missed so much.
“Kiss me,” she begged, pulling me closer to her. “Make me forget about him. Make me yours, Carter.”
As I said before, a man just had to seize an opportunity when it opened up and seduced you. It was fucked up, but hell, I think we both needed this.
We deserved this night together.
Finally, afte
r months of sleepless nights, Emma was back in my arms.
Hopefully, this time it was going to be forever.
Chapter 23
Bass
Taylor: Okay, the key is underneath the rug. Whatever happens, walk the fuck away before someone gets hurt. Best of luck, man.
When Taylor mentioned that he’d stayed overnight in Trista’s place in SB after a Halloween party at Carter’s house, I asked him if Emma was home safe. When he said “yeah” in a strained voice, I knew something wasn’t right. I wasn’t sure why, but for some reason, I had the inkling to ask. I had my suspicions what it was already, yet still, I pressed on to ask. So when he said that Trista went inside Emma’s room to borrow some styling products and found Carter Mason beside her, I didn’t even have the heart to ask further.
Of course my brain did all the talking for me, which was a torture that never stopped. Imagination was a good thing, although not when paired with paranoia and fear. Combine them all and you got one messed up man, which was how I was right now.
My simple inquiry led me to know that Carter was in fact with Emma. From then on, nothing was made sense. I drove from LA to SB without a thing in mind other than Emma and how she had just nailed my coffin shut. If… if she really did it, I wasn’t sure how I was going to handle it. I knew one thing, I doubted I’d ever recover.
Parking right outside her house, I killed the engine and left the key dangling as I took deep breaths and leaned against the cool leather seat to help soothe my throbbing head. I had flown in last night, thinking that Emma might have had a change of heart after her trip in Europe; it appears she did have one, but it wasn’t towards me. It had been for Carter.
This tiresome battle between us was taxing me fully, and I supposed, he had been right all along; he was the one for her. Because no matter what happened, he never once gave her up, nor did she fully let go of him.
