by Lucy Score
“Please, Carter.” Summer didn’t know what she was begging for, she only knew need.
She heard his zipper and knew that soon she would be claimed. His hands left her, and she gasped. “Hang on, baby.” She heard the rip of foil and his soft sigh as his hand slicked on the condom. Thank God he thought to bring one.
He didn’t make her wait. Carter guided his shaft between her legs, parting her soft folds with his broad crown. She flexed her hips back against him and his hand returned to grip the back of her neck.
With aching precision he slowly entered her. Finally full, she sobbed.
“Hush, baby.” His hand stroked her back and hip as he built a slow, gentle rhythm.
This. This. This was what she wanted, what she craved. With Carter inside her, stretching her until she was full, she was alive, and nothing else mattered.
Possessed.
She heard him groan, felt him pull back. “You’re going to make me come too soon.” He pulled out of her, his cock dangling against the back of her thighs. He pulled her underwear back into place.
“Please tell me you’re not stopping,” she whimpered.
“Turn around, baby.”
Her shaking arms pushed off the table, and she turned in his arms on wobbly legs.
Lifting her up, he placed her on the edge of the table. “I want you to come with me,” he said, his gray gaze drilling into her. He slid two fingers into her wet center. “Can you do that for me, baby?”
Summer nodded and opened her legs wider.
“Good girl. Now hang on to me, because this is going to be fast and hard.” Carter pushed her thighs apart and yanked the thin scrap of her underwear to the side. He gripped his cock and stroked it once, twice, before guiding it to her core. His hands slid under her ass and lifted her as he speared into her. Summer instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist and gripped his shoulders.
His eyes didn’t leave hers as he slammed into her again and again. Her eyes were half closed, but still their gazes held.
“I need to taste you.” He ground out the words over clenched teeth. Carter lowered his mouth to her breast and with long, deep pulls drew her over the edge.
“Carter!” she gasped out his name as she felt herself tighten around him. It blazed through her like electricity.
He grunted against her breast, and she felt him jerk inside her, again and again. They clung together as their world fell apart.
Their tryst in the kitchen took just enough of the edge off that they decided to order a very late dinner back at Summer’s apartment.
“I can’t believe you just ordered Chinese at midnight,” Carter said peeling off her shoes. “Everything but the bars back home close by nine.”
“Perks of city life, my country mouse,” Summer said, leaning back against the pillows of the couch. His big hands enveloped her foot and absentmindedly began to rub.
Summer purred. “This makes me think of the back rub you gave me my second day on the farm.”
Carter looked pained. “That was torture for me.”
“For you? I was the one with spasms!”
He switched feet and started rubbing the neglected one.
“I was straddling you on a bed, touching you in an intimate place trying not to grind my hard cock into you while you moaned in a pillow. Fucking torture.”
She threw her head back and laughed. “I’m glad I wasn’t the only one suffering from trying to behave.”
“You’re starting to make me think you like torturing me.”
“I like knowing that you want me.”
The look he gave her, molten steel, had her stomach trembling.
“I’m so happy you’re here,” Summer sighed, running her finger tips across his chest and down his stomach, tracing lines and following curves.
Carter grabbed her wandering hand and pulled it to his lips. “I’m glad I’m here, too. I like seeing how you live here.”
“It’s no Blue Moon.”
He laughed and nipped at her finger. “No, but you certainly have some characters here, too.”
“They all seemed to be appropriately taken with you,” Summer said, snuggling closer. “I think there will be some very eager readers when your article comes out.
“They only like me for my pretty face.”
He wasn’t far off, Summer thought. But the outside was what mattered in this industry, and being blessed the way Carter had been in that department only meant that his value sky-rocketed.
“Your friend Nikolai seems moderately human,” he said.
“Yeah. He’s a good guy. A womanizer, but a good guy.”
“Did you ever…” Carter let the question hang in the air.
“Niko? No! Never,” she laughed. “That’s why we’re friends. I’m the longest relationship with a woman he’s ever had besides his mother.”
His hands stilled on her feet. “Can I ask you something without you getting upset?”
“Maybe?”
“Why do you do this kind of work?”
“What do you mean?” Summer asked, resting her head on the back of the couch.
“You’re smart, you’re talented. But you’re real. You don’t fit here with the rest of them. They’re all about advertisers and power plays and kiss-kiss, hate-hate, and here you are seeing people and stories. And what’s more is I think you know you don’t fit. I don’t get it.”
He got her. Carter saw her for the person she believed herself to be. There was no underestimating here. No thinly veiled disappointment. She wanted to hug him until he couldn’t breathe, wanted to twirl around her living room with the thrill. How could someone she had just met know her better than everyone else in her life?
Summer bit her lip. “Can I tell you a secret that I’ve never told anyone?”
“Of course. Is it that you’re really into dudes with beards?”
“That, and it’s all part of the plan. I’m going to make senior editor and work there for two more years—three tops—learning everything I can, saving everything I can, and building my contacts. Then I’m going to start my own digital magazine.”
“You sneaky, little—” Carter tickled her feet. “So you’re not into any of this at all?”
“Well, I do love beautiful shoes and clothes. But do I care what anorexic, chain-smoking model is dating what heroin addict musician? Am I disappointed that I’ll never have to drop everything that I’m doing to rewrite a blurb on our ‘editor’s favorite cover-ups’ when an advertiser comes on board? Hell. No.”
“Tell me about this magazine.” Carter stroked her arm in lazy circles. “What’s the angle?”
“Real life. Not four-thousand dollar must-have jackets for fall or sex tips from a former porn star—” She pinched him when he pretended to perk up. “It’s going to be about real women living real lives and having real adventures. What do they care about, what do they do, how do they fuel their bodies, what and who do they love? We need role models showing us how to live, not supermodels.”
Carter traced her nose with his finger. “You are going to disrupt the magazine industry.”
“I intend to.”
It felt so good to tell someone. Even better to tell Carter.
23
Summer was jolted awake by Carter’s body going rigid next to hers. His breathing was coming in short, sharp gasps that punctuated the night’s silence.
“Carter! Wake up.” On her knees, she shook him.
When his eyes opened, she could tell he still wasn’t with her.
“Wake up,” she begged, blinking back tears. “You’re safe. You’re with me.”
She saw it then. The recognition. The shame that flickered across his face. It hurt her to see his pain.
Carter sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He brought his head to his hands.
Summer wrapped her arms around him from behind, resting her cheek on his back. She could hear how his heart thundered in his chest. “Tell me.”
He nodded.
/>
Lights seemed too bright. So she lit candles and poured him a glass of water.
He paced. Naked. His mind still on the dream world he had just left.
Summer waited quietly. She sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed wearing Carter’s discarded undershirt.
“It was another night and another mission,” he said. His voice a rasp like there was too much pressure in his throat. “My team was a small tactical unit. Our job was to conduct raids on specific targets. There were some weeks during deployment that we were rolling outside the wire every night.”
He prowled the room like a jungle cat in captivity.
“Mission after mission. We were good. We were tight. There were close calls. A lot of them. But we had ops down to a science. One night we were given orders to take a target in a small compound outside of Kunduz. He was in hiding with a small security team, and we were to extract them.”
Carter paused, hands on hips. Staring as if looking back through time.
“It all went like clockwork. We breeched both buildings at the same time. He was in mine, and I was going to find him. We cleared the front room. There was no furniture, just trash everywhere. He was squatting in this place.
“The back room was locked. Just a flimsy hollow door. We were in in seconds. Me and Ramirez. And there they were. Two of them both holding pistols. We had him. We had them. But there was crying. I looked down.” Carter looked down at Summer’s bed.
“She was seven. Curled up, crying. Dirt on her face. Bare feet. Terror. The terror in those huge brown eyes. I tell Ramirez to grab her, and then—” his voice broke.
Summer tightened her hold on the pillow to keep herself from going to him.
“The target shot her. Right between the eyes.” His finger grazed the skin at the top of his nose. “Started screaming that he would rather have her dead than with American pigs.”
“I shot him six times before I fell. His buddy got me twice before Ramirez took him down.”
Summer clasped her hands over the sob that tried to claw its way free.
“I laid there on the dirt floor, staring into her dead eyes and watching our blood pool together.”
She went to him now. Offered him the only comfort she could. Summer wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his back.
He forged on. “When I came home, I was a mess. I couldn’t sleep because of the nightmares. I felt like I was never going to drag myself out of the abyss. The hate that I felt for that man scared me. I ended his life. I ended the hate that spewed out of him like a river. Sometimes the only thing that made me feel better was walking through those six bullets over and over again.” He let out a shaky sigh, and Summer placed her lips on his back, tasting her own tears.
“And then I realized that me hating him was no different than him hating me. Fighting hate with hate gets you nowhere. That man was taught to hate his entire life. But me? I had a choice.”
“You chose a better way,” she whispered against his hot skin.
“I chose a better way,” he repeated. “And things got better.”
“But you still have the dreams,” she said.
“Balance and control became very important to me. So sometimes, when I feel my control slip a little or when I get to feeling an intense high or low, the dreams come back. It’s a weakness that I’m working on. I’m a work in progress.”
She pressed her forehead into his back. “Carter, it’s not a weakness. You’re healing. There’s a difference.”
He was calmer now. His heart beat slower, but she still felt the tension in his muscles. Remnants of the dream, shards of a memory so sharp it still bled.
And she knew it as the truth before she said it.
“I love you, Carter.”
She heard it. The intake of breath. And then he was pulling her around into his arms.
“I know it’s too early. I know we just decided to see where this will go. We’re supposed to wait months and really get to know each other before we say something crazy like this. But I love you, Carter Pierce. I love who you are and how you got to be you. Every story, every secret, everything I learn about you makes me love you more. And more weeks or months aren’t going to change that.”
He cupped her face in his hands.
Tears blurred her eyes until she couldn’t see him through them. “You trusting me with this—” she clutched at her heart, at the ache in her chest. She started again. “You are the best person I know, and I love you.”
Carter gently wiped her tears.
“Summer.”
Her name on his lips carried so much emotion, so much weight, she had to lean into him. She saw the scars on his chest and torso and gently laid her lips on them. Once, twice. And then she pressed them to his heart.
“What took you so long?”
“What?” She leaned back and looked up.
“I’ve been waiting for you to catch up.” Carter brushed his knuckles against her cheek. “I love you, Summer. I’ve loved you almost as long as I’ve known you. I loved you even before you let me put my hands on you.”
“You love me?”
“Baby. How could I not? You’re the one I’ve been waiting for.” He wrapped his arms around her, snuggling her head against his chest.
They rocked, side to side, in the candlelight, and Summer listened to the strong, slow beat of a heart that loved her.
Saturday morning Summer yawned mightily and snuggled deeper into her pillow.
“Oh, no you don’t.” The bed sank as Carter sat on the edge. “Open your eyes.”
“Mm,” Summer muttered in the very comfortable pillow.
Carter slapped her on the butt, and she rolled over lazily. “Why are you torturing me awake at…” she squinted at the bedside clock. “Why didn’t you wake me sooner?”
It was after eight. She needed to take her pills.
“Here.” Carter took her hand and dumped three capsules and a tablet into it.
She stared down at them, panic rising in her chest.
He handed her a glass of water.
She kept her gaze down as she washed down the pills.
“You slept through the alert on your phone, so I followed the instructions on it. You’re very thorough.”
Summer was still silent. He couldn’t know. Not after last night. He said he loved her. She wanted to hang onto that as long as possible. Maybe it was selfish of her, but if love turned into obligation and worry, it would ruin what they found together.
She needed just a few more weeks.
“Hey.” Carter put his hand over the fist she had balled in the comforter. “You can tell me when you’re ready, okay?”
Summer let out the breath she had been holding. She risked a look at his face.
Those serious gray eyes studied her. Hair tousled from sleep. He wore his Pierce Acres t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts. The body of a warrior and the face of an angel. And he was hers. She could tell him, and he would do what he thought was the right thing. He would stick. But she wanted more. Didn’t she deserve more than a sense of obligation? Didn’t he deserve more than an iffy future?
“Can I buy you breakfast?” she asked.
It was closer to brunch by the time Summer finished getting ready. Sex hair was much harder to tame than regular bed head. And walking out the door in the city was a different story than in Blue Moon. She could probably walk into Overly Caffeinated or OJ’s in pajama pants, and no one would blink.
But go out in last season’s “it” shirt here, and she’d be labeled immediately.
Over the commotion in her head, Summer had managed to pull herself and an outfit together and made herself Manhattan-brunch presentable.
Carter was sprawled on the couch in gray shorts and a tight black polo.
“Have you starved to death, yet?” Summer asked.
“I ate one of your throw pillows to take the edge off.” Carter sat up. “Come here.” He patted the cushion next to him, but when she got there he pulled h
er into his lap.
“Are you going to let things get weird because of last night?” he asked, resting his chin on her head.
Summer relaxed in his arms.
“There is no weirdness because of last night,” she promised.
“So you aren’t going to think of me as some sad, victimized head case?”
Summer wriggled in his lap to look him in the eye. “Carter Pierce!” Her laugh was genuine. “There is nothing about you that says victim or head case.”
“Are you regretting what you told me last night?” he asked.
“Hmm, I can’t quite remember what I told you.” She tapped a finger to her chin. “Maybe you can refresh my memory?”
Carter flipped her over his knee, and Summer shrieked. Two well-placed smacks were enough to jog her memory.
“Okay! Okay! I remember!” she giggled.
Carter righted her. “I’m waiting.”
She took his face in her hands. “I love you, Carter.”
His grin was slow and sweet. “Let’s go get something to eat so we can come back and I can spank you some more.”
24
She took him to a pocket-sized place that served up a nice vegetarian brunch. They ate inside to avoid the late June sizzle and swelter. Afterward, they braved the heat for the hand-in-hand walk back to Summer’s apartment.
“What would you like to do today?” she asked him.
His wolfish look told her exactly what he wanted to do.
“I mean in the city. Wearing clothes.”
“What do you like to do on your days off?”
Summer laughed. “My days off?” She didn’t have days off. If she wasn’t in the office, she was working from home. If she wasn’t working on magazine projects or attending events, she was blogging.
And if she wasn’t doing any of that, she was doing laundry.
All things she should be doing today. Instead, she was strolling down the sidewalk holding hands with the man she loved.
And not feeling the least bit guilty about it.
