“Is this the pop psychology again?”
“I don’t know, is it making sense?”
“A little.”
“Then I guess I’ve won the argument!” She stormed up the porch steps and slammed the door behind her. If he thought he could walk back into her life after all these years and push her around, he had another think coming. She kicked off her boots, dropping them in the corner of mud room along with her hat and jacket.
Ty watched her from the kitchen doorway, while she filled the tea kettle and dropped it to the stove with a thud. “So you’re just going to be mad at me the rest of the night?”
“I was thinking about it.”
He groaned and rested his head against the door frame. “Okay, so just so I have things straight, you’re mad at me for trying to protect you. Is that where you’re coming from, or am I totally misreading you?”
She pulled a mug from the shelf and slammed the cabinet door shut. Was what he said right? Was she really faulting him for his concern? There was a fine line between being assertive and irrational, and she hated to think she’d crossed it. “Okay fine, I don’t mean to be mad at you, but I’m just trying to make a point.”
“Which is?”
“I acknowledge that I have a few issues in my past that might give a person a certain impression of me. I suppose given your colorful history, you can appreciate what I am talking about.”
“Dually noted.”
“So perhaps I have something to prove. Maybe to others, but mostly myself, and if you truly wanted to...” She quoted with her fingers. “Protect me, then I suggest you give me the benefit of the doubt when I tell you that I can handle this situation.”
She expected an adamant rebuttal. In the past he would have, but it occurred to her that he probably didn’t know what to say. This was the first time she’d ever challenged him. She had asserted herself, and it felt pretty good.
“So, you think you want to come back outside and help me fix the car?”
“No, I was thinking you could stay inside and help me make some tea.”
“Deal.” He looked at her and chuckled. “So I guess Lexie and Jax reunite after all. Sounds good to me.”
“Me too.”
His slipped his hands around her waist and pulled her into his arms. She snuggled in close, resting her head on his heart. “Okay, baby,” he whispered. “This is just like how it all began. You and me against the world. We get through this, we get through it together. You understand?”
She understood she had a lot to lose, but right now she felt so empowered, it didn’t seem important. Heat radiated from him in a slow burn, and her fingers fisted around his sweatshirt in response. He smelled like spice and night and cold. A strange, but enticing combination that tied her stomach in knots.
“We should go to bed, darlin.”
Carrie felt her face flush. “You think so, huh?”
“No, I mean to sleep. I didn’t mean it that way.”
“Well why not? I’m not tired. In fact, I’m wide awake.” She traced her finger down his collar. “How about you, are you tired?”
“I could go all night.” His voice had lowered to a grainy whisper, and a breath hitched in her throat. It amazed her how this man still affected her. Just a word spoke volumes, and a touch a grand gesture. An intimate shorthand all their own, that transcended anything overtly sexual.
Her gaze followed her hands as they slid up his chest. He felt solid and strong, and real. She lifted her head, and his eyes locked on her. Blue beams of intensity that drove straight through her. She wanted him. Badly. Even as her brain screamed they shouldn’t, her body hummed in disagreement. He licked his lips, when his gaze fell to her mouth, his eyelids lowered to a close. She rose to her tiptoes and lifted her chin, silently urging his mouth to hers.
His kisses were as delicious as she remembered. Deep and soft, gentle and sweet. When she offered her tongue he accepted, tasting her, teasing her, softly nipping at her lips the way she liked it. Kissing Ty was something she could do for hours. She had even been lucky enough to be paid to do it. But here tonight, it was nowhere near enough.
“We should stop.” Ty breathed, his lips still grazing hers. “Really.”
“No.” She gulped. “Upstairs. Let’s go upstairs.”
Even his world class acting skills couldn’t hide the shock on his face. Scooping her in his arms, he scaled the stairs in record time. When he turned the corner to her bedroom, she stopped him, prying her mouth from his. “The guest bed is bigger.” she said.
“Yours is warmer.”
“I bet with extra body heat, yours would be just fine.”
He raised a brow. “You’re kind of bossy tonight, aren’t you?”
His hot breath swirled around her like a spell. She felt strong and sensual and so incredibly aroused. This is what she wanted. And she could tell by the way Ty looked at her, he wanted it too. “You were always good at taking direction,” she teased, splaying her finger over his swollen lips. “Take me to your bed.”
His grip tightened around her, as he dragged her lips to his. His kisses were deeper, hungrier, and so incredibly clear with intention. He wanted her as badly as she wanted him, and she was up to the task of pleasing him.
Air rushed around her, when he released her onto the bed. Her cheeks burned from the friction of his beard, and strands of her hair stuck to her moistened lips. Silently, she invited him to remove her clothes, and his hands moved over her with remarkable dexterity. Buttons released, claps unfastened, and suddenly she was completely exposed.
It felt oddly empowering to know he watched her. Studied her. She arched her back, lifted her breasts in a tease, and she giggled when he growled in response. Stepping forward, he brought his hand to her leg, then dragged it down the swell of her calf. “You certainly got the Devil in you tonight don’t ya, darlin?”
“Not yet,” she said in the sexiest voice she knew how, pretending the line wasn’t cheesy in the least. The trash-talking temptress was pure Lexie Love, and not something that came to her naturally. Ty obviously remembered, given the smirk he attempted to hide. She rolled on to her side, propping her chin in her palm. “Do I amuse you, Hollister?”
“Among other things.” His voice ripe with sex. “How about you put your money where that dirty little mouth of yours is?”
Ty pulled off his sweatshirt and jeans and chucked them into the darkness behind him. He stood over her a moment in all his naked glory, the light from the hall hitting him like a spotlight. His muscle-bound body looked like cut rock, and his eyes and mussed hair made him seem dangerous. She gulped hard. This was exactly why he was the Sexiest Man Alive.
His chest heaved with jagged breaths as his gaze raked hungrily over her. In that instant their eyes locked, her insides churned. She was ready for him. Now. And even if this was the stupidest decision she ever made for the rest of her life, she simply didn’t care.
“Carrie-”
“Don’t talk anymore,” she whispered. “Don’t say anything.”
She reached for his hand and brought him to her. He was warm and hard and so incredibly masculine. She molded against him like a perfect part of a whole, his large angular body encased her tiny soft one.
She exhaled slowly, as his hands traveled over her. Down her arm, over the rise of her backside, along the length of her thigh. He was gentle as always, slow and deliberate, relaxing and arousing all at once.
“You have the softest skin, Carrie Ann. It’s like milk.”
She giggled. “Like milk? Now that’s a line if I ever heard one.”
“I’m serious. Pale and pure.” She felt his fingers behind her knees, then up inside her thighs. “Everything about you is perfect.”
Her heartbeat echoed in her ears, as he dragged his finger along her breast. His hardness pressed against her belly, and she instinctively pressed back. She marveled at his self control. Judging by the headlines and TV news, it was something he’d lately lacked. She wondered if i
t was reserved just for her.
“Ty?”
“Hmm?”
“I’m glad you’re here.”
His lips hovered over hers, widening into a smile. The creases in his cheeks deepened, and his eyes gleamed in the dim light. “Me too, although, I don’t know how wise it is to reopen old wounds. But I suppose if they didn’t heal right the first time around…” He kissed her softly and brushed the hair from her eyes.
There was a resignation in his voice that moved her, like he admitted something in a moment of vulnerability. Instinct made her touch his face, weave her fingers through his hair. Longing made her bring her mouth to his.
“Wait a minute.” He pulled up slightly, to look at her. “Tell me you’re sure you want this. I mean, I don’t want you to give yourself to me because you think I expect it, because I don’t. Not from a woman like you.”
“A woman like me? Is that a compliment or an insult?”
“I want you to trust me, Carrie.”
She slid her hand down his cheek, then over the ripple of his solid chest. She felt his heartbeat inside him, drumming against her palm. “Tyler, you know I don’t give myself easily, and I’m not here for any other reason except that I want to be.”
“I just want you to be sure about it.”
She stared at him, before reaching across to the bedside table. Pulling open the drawer, she produced a condom and placed it on the pillow beside them. “I’m sure.”
She lay down on his chest, her cheek replacing where her hand had been. When his arms enclosed around her, it seemed like déjà-vu, his musky scent, the same contour of his body, the same needful quiver her body made when against him. Time stopped and the darkness dulled. Each breath, each heartbeat in time with his.
“Relax,” he whispered, nudging her body off his, his eyes raking her nakedness. “It’s me. Just me.”
He dragged her up to his mouth, taking her with a kiss. Long and lingering, his tongue probed and teased. In a bold move that surprised her, she trailed her pointer finger down his stomach, until she reached the tuft of coarse hair near his groin. When he sucked in his breath, she smiled with pride. He wasn’t the only one with the carnal memory.
“You’re a tease,” he said through clenched teeth.
“You want me to apologize?”
“Hell no, I want you to keep going.”
His arousal heightened hers. With the eager clumsiness of amateur hands, or at least ones out of practice, she teased the thick hard shaft that pressed against her. She gripped it, stroked it, then found the swollen tip. Soft and moist under her caress.
“Like this?”
He groaned then settled beside her. His skin slick with heat, and she bet it tasted as good as it felt. With devious intentions, she brought her mouth to his chest, and slid her tongue to the sensitive spot just above his belly button. When she heard his sudden gasp for breath, and his cock twitched in her hand, she knew she hit the bull’s eye she aimed for.
“You like playing dirty, don’t you?” he hissed.
“Oh, I’m sorry I thought that’s what you wanted.”
“I do. I just hope you can handle the payback.”
Easing on top of her, he nipped at her ear then traced the curve of her throat with his tongue. Heat simmered inside her, bubbling white hot under her skin. He went lower, slower, until his mouth found her nipple.
In the past, she was convinced he had to have the most perfect mouth in the world. His smile, his kiss, and the things he did to her body made her weak. He lapped at her in hungry strokes, taunting with little nips of his teeth. She panted now, her limbs limp and numb. His breath floated over the curve of her belly, then lower to the inside of her thigh.
“Ty,” she breathed, consumed by the incredible sensation. He stroked her hip in response, slowing his advancing pace.
“Take it easy. We’ve got all night. We’ll take it nice and slow. And if you want me to stop-”
“Don’t stop. Please.”
She could have been embarrassed by the admission. That he was the only man that had ever touched her, seen her, been inside her. For a moment she felt inadequate, afraid to disappoint. Tears welled in her eyes, and her throat narrowed. “Kiss me, please,” she pleaded. “Just kiss me.”
He did as she asked, slow but intense. She could tell he wanted her, needed her, and was happy to cater to any need. This time when his fingers wandered, she trusted the feeling. They parted her, searched her with gentle purpose, and when they found her, she surrendered. Her inhibitions slipped away, as his finger eased into her weeping center.
She lifted her body to him. Pressing, grinding, bringing her core closer to his touch. With slow rhythm, he pulled in then slid out, one finger then two. She closed her eyes, concentrating on the sensation, knowing and liking that he watched her.
“My God, Carrie Ann.” His sandy, soft hair tickled her chin, and his breath snaked over her cleavage. When he took a nipple in his mouth, she slid her hands around his head. She moaned and writhed, eager to rid her body of this strange purgatory between pleasure and pain. The edge of control. “Tyler, please,” she pleaded.
Her eyes sealed shut, when he settled on top of her, his arms braced around her head. He brought his lips to her ear, and took her right hand in his left. “I’m all yours, Carrie.” He breathed, wrapping her fingers around his cock. “I’m all yours.”
She was reminded of how big he was, but her desire chased away the fear. Her eager fingers placed his soft tip at her threshold, and slowly he eased himself inside her.
He groaned as he impaled her, at first in steps of progression. She felt her insides stretch to accommodate him, like her body had a memory all its own. When he was fully sheathed, he started a slow rhythm, his muscles straining with each movement.
Her body met his in a perfect syncopation, her inhibitions fell away like clutter in her mind. Suddenly, she was keenly focused. Each touch, motion, kiss brought her higher and higher to a vortex where she teetered, hanging. He sped up at her urging. Her hands gripped the flesh of his back. She heard herself whimper, beg, plead for what she wasn’t sure. But she was reeling, lost, her body no longer her own.
“That’s it, let it come, baby.”
She couldn’t stop it if she tried. Her orgasm came the same time his did, with a force that knocked the breath from her. All at once she drifted, spiraling and floating on a blissful cloud. He moaned her name, pushing himself into her deepest recesses. It went on and on, until neither could move. Breathless and spent, their bodies still connected, as he lay on top of her.
“Are you okay?”
She sighed when he kissed her neck “Yeah, I’m fine.”
He slid out from the sheets, and got rid of the condom, before climbing back in, and snuggling against her. “Can I ask you a question, Carrie Ann?”
“Sure.”
“You ever think about trying again?”
The question blindsided her, but in a weird way it seemed obligatory. She propped her head in her hand and gazed down at him. “You mean ‘us’ or having a baby.”
“Either one. There isn’t a right answer. I just want to know.”
“Have you?”
He brushed a hair from her face. “I asked you first. But I have to tell you, say ‘no’ and break my heart.”
She lay back down on the pillow, and stared at the shadows the moon cast across the ceiling. Thinking of Ty was something she trained herself not to do. Like breaking a bad habit. She supposed the clinical word would be denial. She had always wanted Ty. Even when every shred of logic told her she shouldn’t. “Ty, do you remember when we found out I was pregnant?”
He looked at her, as if suddenly engaged. She saw his throat tighten, he swallowed. “Yeah,” he croaked. “We were filming a scene in that rollercoaster episode we did. The one where the carnival guy was a mass murderer.”
“And I had that scene where I was stuck on that Ferris wheel, and you had to come save me. I was so nauseous, and I coul
dn’t understand why. And then I thought back to that night in your trailer when we weren’t so careful.”
Ty chuckled. “I remember.”
“I snuck off the set and got a pregnancy test at the store, but I already knew.”
“God, I remember how beautiful you looked when you told me. Downstairs in the kitchen after work. It took you three tries to get it out. Then I made love to you the rest of the night.”
Her face burned at the memory. How he took her slow and easy, spooning her, kissing the back of her neck, and whispering sexy things in her ear. When her orgasm came it went on forever, stealing her breath and stunning her body. They slept in front of the fire that night, wrapped in a wool blanket and each other’s arms. They both showed up late for work the next day. Earl wouldn’t talk to them for a week.
He pulled her into his chest, weaving his hands in her hair. She hated how right his arms felt around her. Even when it had been scripted, his touch stirred her in ways no man had ever come close to. “I really wanted that baby, Tyler.”
“I know. Me too.”
She had never been a believer in true psychology, and she still wasn’t, clinically speaking. What she truly believed healed her was simply talking. Communication. Ty was always the open person. Receptive. The man beside her was the Ty she knew. In repose, unguarded. This was the man she had fallen in love with.
And it was happening all over again.
Chapter Nine
Ty slept less than two hours, but it was the best sleep he’d had in five years. Dreamless and deep, and so rejuvenating that he actually twitched with unspent energy.
He had a good idea how he’d like to burn some off.
Carrie’s head rested in the crux of his arm, with the morning sun warming her pale cheek. God damn, did that feel right. To wake up with a woman and actually feel like he belonged there. If he could do this every day for the rest of his life, he’d die a happy man. But if the truth ever came out...
He couldn’t imagine Layla knowing what really happened. Even Lizzie and Russ were in the dark. Deacon Langley had covered his bases, Ty was stupid enough to let him, and if Carrie ever found out he’d lose her for good. Of course, that’s exactly what he deserved. He was greedy, weak, and totally drunk on his desire. If he were a decent man, he’d level with her, and he definitely wouldn’t have taken her to bed.
Undercover Heat Page 11
