Clickbait

by Lisa Suzanne

  For one, I still don’t know what happened with his ex, but he dropped enough hints to tell me there were some serious commitment issues in that relationship.

  For another, he’s not very honest about his background. I suppose that’s a forgivable offense considering he’s from one of the wealthiest families in America, but keeping parts of himself hidden sends up red flags for me.

  And finally, I don’t want to be with someone as hot as him. I can’t even imagine how awful it must be to fight off the women vying for his attention.

  Okay, that last argument is poorly constructed, but I’m trying to justify my actions in my own head, so I’m going with it.

  “You-oo like him.” Emme’s singsong snaps me out of my thoughts.

  I shake my head. “He’s hot, but I don’t know if we really have much in common.”

  “Because you don’t know anything about him?”

  I nod. “But we’re going out again tonight, so maybe I’ll crack the mystery…or maybe I just don’t care.”

  “You care.”

  I stab a few pieces of lettuce with my fork, but I’m really just playing with my food. I don’t answer her.

  “You care way more than you’re willing to admit.”

  “Shut up,” I mutter petulantly.

  “Court, it’s okay to like him. It’s okay to have feelings for him.”

  I finally glance up at her, and she’s looking at me with these wide, concerned eyes. “I know it is.”

  “Then why are you fighting against it so hard?”

  “I’m not. I just don’t want to get into something serious right now. I’m still a little hurt by what Liam did, and I’m just being cautious.”

  The concern in her eyes morphs to sympathy. “Of course you are, and I don’t blame you, but from what Axel tells me, Carter’s a really good guy.”

  “I’m pretty sure his ex would say differently.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “We didn’t get into specifics, but it seems like he didn’t want to commit.”

  “So? Didn’t you just say you don’t want anything serious anyway?”

  I sigh. There’s no fighting with Emme. She’s always right—at least in her estimation.

  “What about you? What’s going on with you and Axel?”

  It’s her turn to uncomfortably play with her salad. She dodges my question. “We’re not talking about me.”

  I giggle. “Well, we’re not talking about me, either.”

  We finish our salads and talk about the upcoming Thirty Under Thirty event where we’re both being honored. It’s a safer subject than relationships, anyway.

  * * *

  I settle on a navy Vera Wang floral print dress for my second date with Carter. I’m nervous; I haven’t heard from him all day, which shouldn’t feel weird, but it does.

  It’s my stupid comment in this morning’s blog post. I told him to kiss me tonight, and it was definitely too forward of me to do so. I know he read it. I told him last night I was going to write about our date, and he told me he couldn’t wait until it hit his inbox. Plus, based on our short history together, I’m well aware that he reads my blog.

  I felt like what I said deserved some comment in advance of our date. I half expected him to post a comment on the article itself, but he didn’t. So here I sit, waiting and wondering.

  He’s picking me up. He has a date planned for us. I have no idea what it is or what to expect. He’s not even from here, so the fact that he’s planning this strikes me as a little odd, but I’m just along for the ride. From the beginning, the whole idea here was to see what sort of fodder dating him might give me for my blog, and so far it’s given me plenty.

  My bell rings at six-thirty. It’s an odd and early time to start our date, but he picked it. I open it, expecting to find Carter there, but it’s not him.

  It’s some older guy dressed in a suit. I peek behind him and see a huge black SUV parked at the curb.

  “Mr. King sent me to pick you up, ma’am.”

  I sort of want to roll my eyes. It’s a little arrogant of him to flash his money by sending a ride for me, but I have to admit I’m curious to see where this chauffer is taking me. I’m also a little leery to get into a car with someone I don’t know just because he says Carter sent him.

  My phone dings with a text.

  CK: Just get in the car. I’m waiting at your destination.

  His mind-reading text makes me laugh. I nod at my chauffer before locking my front door and walking to the waiting car.

  Twenty minutes later, we pull into the Kona Kai Marina on Shelter Island. The driver walks me toward the water, down a ramp, and across a dock. We stop in front of a boat, and there stands Carter. He’s leaning up against the railing next to a boat called the MaryAnn.

  He looks so damn sexy standing there with his white pants, navy shirt, and sunglasses. He looks like someone ripped his picture from a magazine ad selling boats. Part of me wants to take a photo to stick with my blog post in the morning (and/or use for spank bank material later), but I know that wouldn’t be appropriate.

  Or would it?

  I pull my phone out and snap his picture before I can stop myself.

  He chuckles and turns to the guy who drove me, taking off his sunglasses and setting them on the railing. “Thank you, Martin.”

  Martin the driver nods and disappears.

  Carter and I face off for a few beats. He’s a damn animal ready to pounce. I take a step back from the intensity of it all, and he matches that step as he moves toward me. Then he closes the gap between us. He reaches out toward me and his long fingers curl around my neck. He pulls me to him, his eyes hot on mine. Then his mouth moves toward mine, and before I know it, those velvety soft lips collide with my own.

  His other hand comes around my waist, and my body melts into his as he really starts to kiss me. My arms automatically go around him. One of my hands dives into his hair, and he moans. His thick, dark hair feels softer and silkier between my fingers than I imagined it would.

  Not that I imagined it. I definitely did not think about kissing him all fucking day.

  This isn’t some tender display of lip on lip.

  His mouth opens and his tongue darts out to dance with mine. His kiss is hot and naughty and wicked with a promise for more as his hard body thrusts toward me.

  He stops the kiss abruptly when he places his hands on my shoulders and gently pushes me away.

  “Jesus,” I mutter.

  A glance at him tells me he’s as affected as I am. He brought me to my knees. He made me want him in ways I haven’t had a chance to dream of just yet.

  I shake my head to clear it.

  This isn’t about developing feelings for him. This is strictly about what he can do for me, and I have to keep reminding myself of that fact.

  If I have to kiss him a little along the way, so be it. I’ll consider it a bonus of the job.

  He chuckles and then grabs his sunglasses, perching them back on his nose. “Welcome to the MaryAnn,” he says, holding his arms out to indicate the boat.

  “The MaryAnn?”

  “It’s my mom’s middle name. My dad bought her this boat years ago but they hardly ever come out here anymore.”

  Carter hops onto the boat and then holds his hand out to me.

  I grab it, and he helps me up. The rocking of the waves immediately upsets my already nervous stomach. “I’m not sure when a good time to tell you this is, but I get seasick pretty easily.”

  He laughs. “Good thing I came prepared, then.” He disappears into the cabin then reemerges with a bottle of Dramamine and a cup of water. He holds out two pills.

  “Thanks,” I say, taking one and swallowing it back without the water. I slip the other one into the pocket of my dress just in case I need it later.

  Have I mentioned that pockets are everything in a dress?

  “Wow,” he says, impressed. “No gag reflex?”

  I shrug and smirk.

 
“Well that’ll come in handy later.”

  He earns himself a glare with that comment.

  “One step at a time, King.”

  “I like when you call me that. It makes me feel all dominant and shit.”

  I giggle, and he motions for me to follow him. He leads me to the front of the boat where there’s a panel with a bunch of buttons and a steering wheel. He takes a seat in front of it and motions for me to sit in the seat beside him.

  I’m a boat moron. I realize I live near the water, but since I get seasick, I’ve never taken the time to learn much about boats. While my family lives comfortably, we never had the kind of money that would allow us to buy a boat just for the hell of it.

  He presses some buttons on the panel and the boat quietly purrs to life. I get used to the light rumble almost immediately, but it does nothing for the bit of queasiness I feel before the pill works its magic.

  He steers us out of the marina and onto the open water. My anxiety over getting seasick slowly subsides as I watch Carter out of the corner of my eye. As long as I focus on something other than the water, I’ll be okay.

  He’s deep in concentration, his eyes fixed ahead out over the gentle waves. He watches everything in front of us, his eyes roving the area to ensure our safety. His teeth bite the corner of his bottom lip, one of those subconscious habits, and I can’t help but think that I want to be the subject of his focus.

  Am I really jealous of the water he’s surveying so carefully?

  I think back to our kiss, and a shudder races through me.

  No.

  This is wrong.

  I’m not starting to feel something for him—nothing aside from complete and utter annoyance.

  This is nothing more than a business transaction.

  I tear my eyes away from him and look at the water, but that actually does nothing good for my seasickness.

  I feel the familiar uncomfortable strains of sickness in my stomach first. I feel it rising up into my throat, and I have the sudden urge to vomit. My throat feels tight as it constricts, and my mouth starts to water.

  I close my eyes so I’m not looking out at the waves bouncing us around. I drag in a deep, calming breath through my nose, and I swallow down the horrid feeling at the back of my throat.

  I’m not sure if it’s the rocking of the boat or that weird shudder I just had over Carter’s kiss that’s making me feel this way, but the calming breaths are helping.

  I slip that second pill out of my pocket and take it without opening my eyes. Just knowing I have two nausea pills floating through my system helps me feel about a million times better. I draw in one last breath, and then I open my eyes.

  Carter’s eyes are on me. That same concentration he had as he gazed out over the water is now directed at me, and the intensity of it makes my heart thud in my chest.

  “You okay?” he asks.

  I nod. “Just got thrown off for a second. I’m okay now.”

  “You sure?” He looks genuinely concerned about me, and I hate that it makes my heart flip flop as butterflies take flight in my stomach.

  It’s definitely not the water making me feel this way.

  This is only my second date with Carter, and it’s not even supposed to be a real date. This is just my own little science experiment to find out what he can do for me.

  That may be my plan, but you know what? I always sucked at science, and I’m starting to develop something more than annoyance for this guy.

  CHAPTER 10

  “To seeing where this goes,” Carter says, and I touch my glass of cabernet sauvignon to his.

  I smile across the little table at him, and he smiles back just as a breeze floats by, sending a tiny shiver down my body. “The boat?” I ask before taking a sip.

  He smirks at me after he swallows his sip. “Yeah. I parked it in the middle of the water thinking it might be fun to see where we float to.”

  “Probably just back to shore,” I say. “Although I guess if we float west long enough, we could end up in Japan. I hope you packed a shit ton of Dramamine.”

  “Japan?”

  “If you look on a map, it’s basically straight west of us.”

  “Someone knows her geography.”

  “Well I do have a college degree, you know. I have some knowledge of the world around us.”

  “That remains to be seen. Have you ever been to Japan?”

  I shake my head. “It’s a bucket list destination, along with Tahiti, Australia, Egypt, and Canada.”

  “Canada?” He chuckles.

  “Yeah. I’ve never been there. I’ve always had this little dream of just taking a month and traveling. Driving up the coast through California, Oregon, and Washington and ending up in Vancouver. Snaking my way back through Montana and Idaho. Maybe stopping in Vegas on the way home.”

  “By yourself?”

  I lift one shoulder. “With whoever wants to come with me. It would have to be somebody I really like, though, because I get really sick of people pretty quickly, and a month in the car drifting aimlessly through the western United States and Canada would mean very close quarters. Plus that person would have to be able to take a month to go with me. I mean, I can pretty easily work from anywhere, but not everyone can.”

  He stares at me thoughtfully for a minute and then shakes his head slightly before looking away from me and out over the water. “Go to Canada in the winter. The snow is beautiful.”

  I wrinkle my nose. “Snow?”

  “You know, the cold, white, fluffy stuff? Makes good balls and men?”

  “I like balls and men, but I’ll take them without the cold. I am a California native, you know.”

  He nods knowingly. “Weak. Grow a thicker skin and enjoy it.”

  “Are you a New York native?”

  He nods. “I’ve been based out of New York my whole life, but I’ve done a lot of traveling.”

  “Why?”

  “My dad’s work.”

  “What does he do?”

  “He runs a company. Have you been to Europe? I noticed it’s not on your bucket list.”

  I nod, not shocked that he changed the subject back to me.

  “Where’ve you been over there?” he asks as he swirls the wine in his glass around.

  “Spain, France, Greece, and England.”

  “You missed Italy.”

  “I don’t like pizza.”

  “I have two responses to that. First, Italy is so much more than pizza. It’s one of my favorite places in the world. Second, and maybe more importantly, I don’t trust anyone who doesn’t like pizza.”

  I giggle.

  “I’ll get you to like pizza,” he says with a gleam in his eye.

  It’s not so much the gleam that sends more butterflies soaring through me, but rather the promise of more time with Carter King.

  That thought both terrifies and thrills me.

  “So if you don’t like pizza, what do you like?”

  “Burritos,” I answer without hesitation.

  He laughs. “Burritos?”

  I nod.

  “What kind?”

  “Any kind, really. Breakfast burritos are my favorite. Bacon, egg, potato, cheese. I don’t indulge too often, but if you ever need to find a way into my good graces, bring me a breakfast burrito.”

  I look over at him. He’s looking out over the water, and I can’t help but study how attractive he actually is. I’ll never understand how this man is single and chasing after me.

  “It’s time,” he says abruptly. He stands, sets down his wineglass, and holds his hand out to me. I glance at his outstretched palm. His hands are nice—good, strong hands with long, solid fingers. A flash of what those fingers could do to me, what they’d feel like inside me, floats through my mind.

  I tear my eyes from his hand and force those thoughts away.

  “Time for what?” I ask, taking his hand. He helps me up.

  “You’ll see.” He leads me to the side of the boat facing west
and motions for me to grab hold of the railing in front of me. Then he snakes his arm around my shoulder, and his arm around me feels surprisingly warm and comfortable. “This is the starboard side of the boat. It’s what you call the right side in boating jargon, and it’s the best place to view the sunset.”

  I look down at the water in front of us as it slaps against the boat. Watching the water gives me the slightest touch of vertigo as a bit of queasiness creeps into my belly. I lean into him subconsciously, and his arm tightens around me.

  “You okay?” he asks softly.

  I turn away from the water. As my eyes focus on Carter’s dark and concerned ones gazing down at me, a different feeling floats through me. The queasiness leaves. The vertigo is gone.

  Now it’s that weightless feeling, the feeling when you’re on a swing and your stomach drops as you reach the highest point.

  A thrill races through my abdomen, replacing that weightless feeling with nervous sexual tension.

  “Yeah,” I whisper. “I’m okay.”

  Our lips are inches away from each other, and our eyes stare hotly into each other’s. He moves in closer, closes his eyes, and touches his lips softly to mine. The wine and the sunset and the boat all come together in the perfect combination for the most romantic kiss of my life.

  It’s not heated and intense like the one when I first saw him standing on the dock. This one is sweet and gentle. It’s dreamy and tender, and still, it lights a fire in me somewhere deep inside, in a place I didn’t know was dark.

  He breaks away from me, leaving me feeling physically cold in his absence, but inside I’m still warm from his kiss.

  He backs up a few steps, pulling me with him, and we sit on a bench I hadn’t noticed before. His arm is still around me, and I rest my head on his shoulder. It’s some automatic move I don’t even realize I’ve done until I notice that I’m watching the sunset at an angle.

  The sky has a few clouds, and clouds always make sunsets more interesting. As the bright orange ball slips into the water, I take in the grandeur of the sky. It’s still blue, but the clouds have a fiery orange glow by the water. They fade to a bright pink and then a softer pink the farther away from the water I look.