Eighteen
The sound of the champagne cork popping makes me jump. Every part of my body feels expectant, excited about being with Carter, although his comments about my ass have put me on edge. I trust and force my hands to relax in the bonds even though my instinct is to pull and twist out of them.
He pours a glass and brings it over to me. His hair is a little out of place thanks to the breeze, but to me, he looks breathtakingly handsome. Especially knowing what he’s been doing with me.
“Open up." He lifts the glass to my lips and tilts it. The ice-cold champagne chills my mouth and sends bubbles trickling down my throat. He pulls the glass back and takes a big gulp for himself before he sits back on the bench seat. “I like the look of you tied up, Fia. At my mercy. At my command.”
The deep tone of his voice covers my skin in goose bumps, and I take a breath.
“More.” He stands and tilts the rest of the glass of champagne down my throat. “Now step.” He pulls the shorts that are now around my ankles free before his fingers set to untie my bikini.”
“Naked?” I ask, as a sliver of vulnerability cuts through my buoyancy. Suddenly, I’m grateful for the hit of Dutch courage he’s plied me with.
“Just the way I like you.”
His eyes sweep over my skin and turn my nerves to heavy desire.
He steps back and pours more liquid into his glass. Again, he brings it to my lips and lets me drink. This time, he’s eager, and the alcohol runs over the edge of the glass and cascades down my chin and drips onto my chest.
“Such a shame to waste that,” he growls before running his tongue over the trail, lapping up the drink. The heady mix of warm and cold, together with his actions set my body on fire. My mind is torn between how my body feels, all the amazing sensations of desire and lust, want and need, versus what my head is telling me—to be careful, that I’m vulnerable, what will he do next?
He rises up, and his tongue traces my lips, teasing me with forbidden promises. I open my mouth, and he takes advantage, licking and consuming me with an intoxicating hunger. My arms pull, desperate to hold him closer to me, to stop him from ever escaping, but the rope bites into my skin.
He pulls away, but his green eyes speak of mischief and sin—things I’m fast growing to love about him.
“More champagne for you, I think,” he rumbles, repeating his actions and pouring directly into my mouth. His free hand wraps around my hair, tilting my head back and making it easier for him. I swallow eagerly, but also let the liquid run down my body, now knowing the game he’s playing. Sure enough, he traces every drop with his tongue, dancing over my throat and down to my breasts.
With each mouthful, I grow more confident, and more turned on. His desire for me feeds my own, and I slip into a place where nothing else exists apart from us.
I greedily drink what I’m given, happy to let it spill over my body, needing him to touch me, to provide some relief to the build-up of longing in the pit of my stomach. My legs grow restless, and my feet inch apart.
“Do you want me to lick that sweet pussy of yours, Fia?”
“Yes,” I moan, as my head drops back on my shoulders.
“You want me to lap up the champagne that you’ve spilt on purpose and tongue you? Taste how wet you are?”
His words drive me crazy and wild.
Carter grabs the bottle of champagne and begins to pour it into my mouth. “Tell me when,” he says with a smirk. I swallow, but the liquid runs freely down my body, covering my chest and stomach, and running to the apex of my thighs. Still, I don’t tell him to stop. I keep my head back and drink as much as I can.
“Greedy girl.”
The bottle empties, and he throws it to the side with a heavy thud before falling to his knees and placing his lips on my thighs. Torturously slowly, he licks my skin, barely brushing my sex with his tongue.
“Fuck it. Grab the bar above your head.” His command is urgent, and I do exactly as he says as he pulls my leg and lifts it over his shoulder. His mouth kisses my sex, sucking at the alcohol before his tongue spears me.
“Ohhh, God, yes!” The pleasure erupts from the pit of my stomach, sending a wave of sensation through my limbs.
He doesn’t stop and his mouth never loses contact with my most sensitive flesh. His tongue laps and curls and flicks until I’m dizzy and on the brink of crashing through my next climax. It’s delicious and painful all at once. The connection and intensity push me closer to the pinnacle until I’m grinding down on his face, desperate to come.
It takes me back to the parking lot and the first time I’d ever experienced being overtaken by sheer desire. The first time I experienced him in such a carnal way.
“You taste so fucking good. I’m never going to get enough of you.”
“Don’t… stop… so… close…” My hips take over, thrusting back and forth, ready to make my world fly apart.
The explosion at my core ripples over my body, making me shudder in satisfaction. My limbs are sapped of every ounce of energy, and I collapse against my bonds, slipping my grip of the bar, but he catches me, holding my pliant body to him.
Soft, butterfly kisses tickle my stomach and breasts, my throat and my ear.
“You are spectacular when you come,” he whispers, bringing a sleepy smile to my lips. My eyes remain shut; I’m too tired to open them. I try to lift my head, but it feels ten times too heavy to lift, and it starts to spin with the exertion.
“You make me feel… God, I don’t know how to describe it. You make me fly. Does that sound weird?” I giggle the last part, realising it sounds pretty silly.
He smiles softly, eyes looking into mine. "Let’s get you untied. Much as I enjoy it, your wrists are going to mark.”
I let him untie me before I wrap my arms around him, desperate to hold him to me. I fill my lungs with the scent of him and hold my breath. “Mmmm,” I purr.
My head lolls to the side as he carries me over to the seats, part of me remembering I’m still naked, the other part not caring at all. I’m too comfortable wrapped in his arms to worry about a thing anymore.
“I think you might need a shower, Fia.”
“Nooo. I’m fine right here.” I try to snuggle further into Carter’s chest to prove my point.
“As much as I like you squirming over my dick, I’d rather you be more conscious than you are. Come on," he says, shifting me. "No more drink for you. We need to get cleaned up. Then food.”
“Food sounds good,” I murmur, feeling sleepy
“You can swim, right?”
“Of course. Why would you… Carter!”
I freefall from the side of the boat and plunge into the cold water. I’m submerged and flap around until I break the surface. “Carter!” I splutter, disorientated, coughing up the sea that I swallowed. A loud splash next to me showers me in more cold water and I squeeze my eyes shut.
“Hey!” Carter’s deep voice arrives next to me, full of humour, and I open my eyes to see him next to me with a quizzical smile. I grin back at him before I jump towards him through the water and try to dunk him under the waves. He easily twists from my reach.
“Bet you’ve never been skinny dipping before.”
“Can’t say I have. You’ve given me a lot of firsts, Carter.” I swim the few feet between us and wrap my arms around his neck this time, suddenly not needing to exact my revenge. Our skin slips and slides together in the wet, and I suddenly forget about the cold. I snake my legs around his naked hips, feeling the soaked denim of his jeans beneath them, wanting to be as close to him as possible.
“You know, the intention wasn’t to have sex again, Fia.”
“No, you intended to give me a heart attack by throwing me overboard?”
“Not a heart attack. Just wake you up.” His smile is sexy as sin and he effortlessly treads water with me still clinging to him. “And if you’re not careful, we’re going to change that plan. Come on. We both need a shower now.”
He splashes
me with water, and I immediately let go. “Race you to the ladder,” he calls before splashing me again.
Carter tears through the water towards the end of the boat, and I kick my legs to chase after him, knowing full well I’ll never beat him. My reward? The sight of his honed body emerging from the water and climbing up onto the deck. Wet jeans, no top, and his hands brushing water from his hair so it slithers down his bronzed skin. The smile that vision creates has me floating on my back in the water, looking up at him without a care in the world.
“Swim’s over, Fia. Come on," he says, crooking a finger at me. "Shower time, then we both need food.”
* * *
The place we walk into isn’t anything like I had expected. It’s more of a beach shack than a formal restaurant, but the aromas of garlic, wine and fish set my stomach rumbling. Carter has my hand firmly in his as we walk through the small eatery to a porch with a dozen tables overlooking the beach.
“Wow, the view is amazing.”
“That it is. And the food is great.”
We take a seat at a little wooden table down by the beach, a roughened, striped canopy over the top of us, and my eyes travel out to sea. We’re in our own private time here, perfectly safe where no one can touch us. But that time has a limit. The stray thought is unwelcome here tonight, and I force it from my mind.
“I would have thought you’d choose somewhere a little fancier.” I take the menu and scan down the handful of options, feeling very out of place.
“No. I know that’s what you’re accustomed to, but that’s not me. Thought we might try keeping up the firsts for you.”
I smile, amused at the idea, but it makes me think of how little I have tried in my life. “I haven’t been allowed to find out what I would choose for myself. This is nice, though. When we go out as a family, Dad usually decides where with Mom’s input. Where should he be seen, somewhere new and upmarket. Expensive, not that it matters to him. It’s all a show, and one I’ve played a role in without even realising. I guess that's how your friend knew me earlier.” I look out at the view, watching the burnt orange hues melt together with the blues of the sea.
“Karl knows about everyone. And everything. Ignore him. I do most of the time. He’s pretty trustworthy," he says, reaching for my chin to bring me back to look at him. "And you shouldn’t feel bad about the privilege you grew up with. Not everyone has that advantage. It could have been a lot worse." I suppose he's right, but he hasn't lived it like I have. Hasn't felt the pressure associated with it. "What would you like? I’ll go order at the bar.”
“Oh, right. Um, you choose. And I’ll have a bottle of sparkling water.” I close the menu and sit back. My stomach’s swarming with butterflies. Being on a date is harder than I thought it would be.
“We’ll save the alcohol for another day.” Carter winks back at me, and I feel a blush rising over my cheeks. Half a bottle of champagne is a lot for someone who’s barely had more than a few sips of the stuff before. "You look good in blue, by the way," he calls back. I do?
I glance at my blue strapless top, a smile on my face as he disappears inside, but my gaze quickly goes back to following him through the windows of the porch. And then my mind runs over his words as I wonder if the Cane lifestyle isn’t all he’s known. It's not like he hasn't had the same privileges as me while he's been with Uncle Quinn, but I guess he wasn't always there. Actually, I don't know anything about where he came from. It gets me thinking about the first time we met in Uncle Quinn’s office, the thoughts I had back then.
I continue to watch him as he leans on the bar, casually taking his time and talking to the guy serving him. He’s not in the custom suit I’ve always seen him in before. Or at least he’s lost some of it, leaving him in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to show his impressive forearms, and jeans again rather than suit pants.
It would be easy to be distracted by him all day.
Before I’m done ogling him, he’s on his way back. He catches me watching and a huge smile breaks over his face. It’s stunning. Most of the time I’ve been with him, he’s been stoic and serious. Smiling like that, he’s beautiful.
“Thanks.” He passes me a bottle of sparkling water. “So, when did you start working for Uncle Quinn?” I go for what I imagine to be date talk.
“Young. Younger than Logan. It’s a long story.”
“We have time. Besides, I think you know me well enough to offer some further insight into Carter Wade.”
“Maybe. I ordered us a sharing platter. Hunks of fresh bread. Plenty of fish. Mussels in wine and garlic.”
His change of subject isn’t subtle, but I refuse to push him on the topic if he doesn't want to go there.
"Okay. How about that scar then?"
"What?" he says, smiling.
"Your scar. Why do you have it?"
"Jesus, you wanna know my star sign, too?"
"Yes. I'm a Libra. Scar?"
He busts out laughing, and for the first time since we've met, I get the feeling I’ve got closer to Carter than anyone has before. Seeing him laugh is beautiful. It’s rich and full bodied, with a grin that could melt the panties off any woman, me included. He looks younger as well, less serious, and the ice-cold demeanour he presented when we first met is nowhere in sight.
"Fuck me. Can't remember a time a woman's made me laugh like that," he chuckles, picking up his drink. "Jesus. I don't even know what my star sign is. Or care."
"Scar then?"
"Alright. For fuck’s sake. Tenacious much?"
Yes, I am.
He takes a sip again, quieting his laughter after a while. "It was nothing. I was young, dumb. Thought I could take on a pack of assholes with my blade. Teach them a lesson about me. Didn't work." My mind tries to imagine a young Carter wielding a blade. "The big one took it off me. Showed me what a blade could do in the right hand." He touches his neck, tracking over the top of it as if reminiscing. "Safe to say I learnt how to properly use one after that. It's been useful over time."
"Wow. Not nice." And now I've got the answer, I'm lost as to how to move the conversation away from things I didn't really want to know about, even if I’ve seen him in action.
I look at him as he shrugs the comment off, like it's just part of his life, nothing to be concerned about. It is, though. It's so many things to be concerned about. We’re at opposite ends of the spectrum, opposites who attract, like magnets, but…
He suddenly pulls out a slim blue box from his pocket and places it on the table in front of me, his hand waving at it. “Open it.”
“What is it?”
“That is what keeps me alive.”
“Pardon me?” My heart jumps to my throat, wondering what it could be. He chuckles mirthlessly, and nods at it again.
“Open it, Fia. You want to know something about me—here it is.” Shakily, my hand flips the lid, and I stare at the syringe on display.
“Diabetic. Insulin shots,” he says.
He takes out a pen-like device for me and fiddles with things on it, then makes a point of pulling the bottom of his shirt up so I can see as he plunges it into his skin. Five seconds, his thumb putting pressure on the end of it, and then he’s putting the pen back in the box.
“Is that it?”
“Yeah. It’s not a problem. I eat, look after myself and take my injections regularly.” He offers a small smile. “I’ve lived with it my whole life. Not many other people know. You wanted information, and now you’ve got some.”
“But I’ve not seen you take any shots since we’ve been together.”
“We’ve not been together every second of the day. Trust me, I know how to look after myself.”
I let his words sink in and it’s true. Carter has been in total control of everything since I met him. Even when things got out of hand, he knew what to do. Knew how to look after himself and me. I smile a little and watch as he puts the box back in his pocket, unsure what him giving me that small piece of him means. Something, I gues
s. Something more than me just being another one of his conquests.
“So, you like seafood?” I blurt out because I don't know what else to say.
“I like everything about the sea," he replies, looking out at it longingly. "It's calm out there. Wish I had more time for it really."
“I guess your lifestyle doesn't afford you that.”
“What lifestyle is that?” He steeples his fingers and leans on the table, waiting for me to go on.
“Well, your job isn’t conventional, Carter. At least what I’ve seen of it isn’t. In fact, there are parts I don’t even want to think about, certainly not now you've told me about that scar. You say you’re not as bad as my father, but Cane is still involved in drugs.”
"When did I say I wasn't as bad as your father?" His brow lifts, challenging me. I frown, trying to remember if he has or not. Maybe I was just hoping or… He waves the question off, a small smile playing around his lips. “It’s a small part that’s getting smaller all the time, Fia. Nate’s been working a long time to ensure Cane is solid and legitimate. Most of the time, everything I do is above board. Business meetings, business transactions. Ensuring everything is in order. You’ve just seen the worst side as well.” He leans back, looking me over. “No one makes decent money these days without having a small part of their business being underhanded. It’s part of the territory.”
I don’t want to argue about the ins and outs, so I leave it for now. “Do you enjoy it?”
“Strange choice of words. Not everyone gets to do something they enjoy. You’ll understand when you’re out in the real world.”
“Real world? You think education and research aren’t real?” I can’t help feeling defensive over what I’ve spent my life doing, and plan to do in the future. “It’s businesses like my father’s and my uncle’s that have caused the problem in society that I want to work to fix.”
Forbidden Eyes: A Cane Novel 4 Page 20
