24. The Unicorn Horn #2
Yes, I nodded, only a physical response.
I was literally sitting on his hard cock, offering myself to him, and he was trying to politely tell me what he always had.
That this was never going to happen. I tried not to let the sting of rejection wash over me, but it did anyway.
“Yeah, you should put some clothes on.” I nodded emphatically, heart still racing a mile a minute.
“Good thinking.” I stared down at his body, realizing he really was like one of those ancient sculptures of a Roman warrior, and I couldn’t help wondering if he fucked like o?—
“You mind, uh, dismounting?” Carter was physically trembling, a pained look on his face.
Oh God, why was I still on top of him? “Of course.” I breathed, my gaze snapping back up to his, and the look in his eyes made my heart pound even faster.
The room was a little topsy-turvy as I slid one leg over the throbbing stallion and rolled onto the bed in a breathless heap.
Carter quickly pulled on some thin gray sweatpants, as if that was going to help the situation at all. Even drunk as a skunk, I could see everything outlined, clear as day. And dear God, there was a lot to outline. Last time I’d seen it, it hadn’t been inflated.
Carter sat at the edge of the bed, keeping a little distance between us, and we both stared at that damn dildo in the sheets and then back at each other. I was sure my cheeks were as red as they’d ever been.
Carter’s smirk quickly disappeared as his eyes dragged over me with a look I couldn’t decipher. “Can we talk about what the hell you’re wearing?” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Please tell me you didn’t go out like that.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I frowned, lying back on the bed .
His jaw flexed. “That’s barely a scrap of fabric. I’d hardly even call that a dress.”
“What would you call it, then?” I raised a brow and tried to ignore the pounding in my clit. I’d deal with that traitorous bitch later. As soon as I got my toy back, I’d schedule her in for a ruthless beating.
“Fair enough.” He said roughly, “And these?” He reached out, making my breath catch, but he only tapped my sparkly cat ears. I’d forgotten I was even wearing them.
“Just something I picked up along the way.” I said, eyes glued to his chest again. Those abs , you could probably climax just rocking over those abs, there were that many grooves.
He sat there for a long moment, broad chest rising and falling rapidly before he asked, “Who did you go out with, anyway? Are the girls home too?”
“Nobody.”
“Seriously, who?” His tone was protective, and my vagina clamped around nothing. Sheesh, I was struggling out here.
“No, I literally went out alone.” I shrugged, cataloging this moment away to use for later. Did that make me a bad person?
“You went out by yourself, looking like that?”
“Mhmm?”
“Christ, Sara.” Carter muttered with a shake of his head. “It’s a wonder you even made it here in one piece. You’re plastered, you know that, right?” He turned serious. “You didn’t drive, did you?”
Rude. I would never drive drunk, and he knew that. “Of course not. I had a creepy Uber driver take me home.” I snapped, realizing my last jello shot was coming back for me with a vengeance.
Carter’s warm brown eyes darkened to something lethal and sharp. “What?”
“Yeah, he was asking me all these questions. Do I have a boyfriend? Was this my house? Was I alone tonight?” I waved my arm around and quickly regretted it as a wave of nausea hit me hard.
“He might even still be down there, because I couldn’t get the door code to work at first, and he just sat there and watched me.
” I pressed my hand against my lips. I knew I should have skipped that last jello shot. Maybe the last three.
Don’t puke, don’t puke, don’t puke.
Carters stood up abruptly, jostling the bed.
Oh God.
DO NOT PUKE IN HIS BED, SARAFINA.
“Don’t move, I’ll be right back.” Carter stormed down the hall, the vein in his neck ready to pop.
I watched the gilded ceiling move in waves, wondering if I was going to pass out, as hours worth of drinking suddenly caught up with me all at once.
A few minutes later, Carter came back into the room, startling my eyes open. “Fucker was skulking around down there, looking into the windows.” Carter fumed, shutting the door firmly.
“What did you do?” I asked halfheartedly. Carter was here, and I was safe now, so who the fuck cared what happened to the string bean with a mustache.
“I sent him packing.” Carter paced the room, a strand of his hair falling over his face as he shook his head.
When he finally stopped, he put his hands on his hips and just stared at me for a long minute, and the intense weight of his gaze was almost too much to bear.
“I’ll contact the company and deal with it tomorrow.
” He finally sighed, expression softening, as he raked a hand through his hair, pushing it back.
“What do you mean?” I asked, closing my eyes to slow the spin of the room. No, that was worse, definitely worse. That made it feel like I was careening down the Alice in Wonderland hole, towards hell itself. I opened my eyes again and tried to focus on Carter’s face instead. Such a nice face.
“It means I’m going to take care of it.” He said matter-of-factly.
His utterly pissed off, protective streak was kind of cute. I wondered if I’d ever seen him this upset, and damn if that didn’t stir something in me. I squeezed my thighs together, wishing I could do something, anything, just to ease the throbbing between them. The ache was painful at this point.
Carter’s gaze drifted down as if he could read my mind, as if he could tell I was slick as a horny little otter. Smooth too, I’d waxed.
“Do you have any clothes here?” He asked rather sharply.
I nodded to his dresser, covering my mouth as I burped quietly and prayed nothing else came up.
Carter chuckled, shaking his head. “Of course you unpacked.” He opened the drawers one by one until he found the drawer I’d stashed all my stuff in. He dug around, jaw flexing for a moment before he silently continued looking. “How many days have you been here?” He asked quietly.
I sighed, twirling a strand of hair around my finger, relieved that the drunken feeling had finally peaked. The room was still spinning, but at least it didn’t seem to be getting any worse now. “I don’t know, maybe three.”
“Sara.” Carter looked over his shoulder.
“I don’t need a lecture, okay.” I snapped. “Nobody will just let me be sad. It’s exhausting.”
He shot me a long look, brows crunched with concern, and then went back to digging through my clothes. “I don’t see any pajamas in here?”
“That’s because I didn’t bring any.” I closed my eyes and admitted shyly. He wasn’t supposed to be home! I was obviously going to change the sheets when I left.
Carter’s gaze snapped up to mine, sharp and assessing. “ Fuck, Sara. ” He muttered. “Here, you can wear something of mine.”
He opened a different drawer, grabbed a few things and approached the bed. “Come here, drunkie.” He crooked his finger with an amused smile.
I sleepily crawled over to him on all fours, and he swallowed hard, taking a nearly imperceptible step back. Or maybe I imagined it. The room was still moving in waves.
“Here.” He handed me the clothes and stared at me for a beat before finally turning around.
I struggled to peel off my wet dress, grunting as the clingy fabric rolled, catching around my shoulders.
“Sara, please.” His tone was sharp.
“Huh?” I mumbled from inside my wet dress prison, my arms stuck above my head.
“Stop making those noises.” He begged. “You’re killing me.”
“I’m not making noises .” I gritted, finally wrenching the dress free and flinging it across the room. It landed on the floor with a wet plop.
I pulled on his old football t-shirt and the blue striped boxers he’d set out for me. It was kind of crazy, actually. I’d imagined wearing his number more than once in high school, and here I was about to sleep in it. Hehe!
When I was done changing, I couldn’t help but stare at his back. He was fidgeting, and every smooth line of muscle was rippling with his impatience. There were several scars I’d never noticed before, and I felt compelled to run my fingers over their raised edges, but I didn’t.
“Done.” I sighed, climbing into the silken sheets.
He turned, gripping the back of his neck as his eyes darted around. “Do you need anything else before I head downstairs?”
“Are you getting a snack?” I perked up, actually feeling hungry for once.
“I was going to sleep on the couch.” His lips quirked. “Are you hungry? I can get you something.”
“Why wouldn’t you sleep here?” I frowned, patting the bed next to me. “This is your bed, after all.”
“Sar,” His lips parted and then he didn’t say anything for a good minute as he dragged a hand over his face. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“What about the other bedrooms?” I asked, not wanting him to be downstairs while I was upstairs. I’d honestly been a little spooked in this enormous mansion all by myself the last few days.
“They’re not made up.” He said so quietly his breath was just a push of air.
I hated that he’d always had the power between the two of us. It sucked. “Carter?”
His eyes were soft, nervous almost. “Yeah?”
“Don’t leave.” I asked, giving him my very best sad eyes. His jaw flexed as he looked towards the door and then back at me, his chest rising and falling rapidly for a long while. “Please.”
“Okay.” He finally conceded with a nod. “I’ll stay.” Slowly, carefully , he slid into the sheets next to me, and turned off the lamp. He left ample space between our bodies, threading his hands behind his head while he stared at the ceiling, wide awake.
I smiled to myself and stared at him in the darkness until I couldn’t keep my eyes open. Such a nice profile, perfect for drawing—sharp jaw, strong nose, full lips, long lashes. Why did guys always have such long, beautiful lashes? What a waste.
I was almost asleep when Carter let out a heavy sigh. “Tomorrow we are going to have a serious conversation about the fact that you went out alone and got drunk.” He paused in frustration. “Not to mention literally nobody knew you were home.” His voice caught. “Sara, if something had happened.”
I inched a little closer to the heat radiating from his side of the bed. “Carter?”
He answered softly, turning onto his side to face me. “Yeah?”
“I’m really glad you’re home.” I tentatively reached a hand out, resting it on his chest. I was surprised to feel his heart racing under my palm.
“I missed you so much.” Oopsie, my filter had clearly been dissolved via alcohol into a net with gaping holes.
What was I even saying? Inside thoughts.
Had to keep the inside thoughts inside my head.
He placed his hand on top of mine with an involuntary shiver. “Geez, you’re freezing, Sar, your skin feels like ice. ”
I breathed a laugh. “I’m always cold.” I couldn’t remember the last time I’d actually felt warm.
He sighed and threaded an arm around my waist. “Come here.” I yelped as he easily hauled me across the bed.
“Hi.” I giggled, tucking my hands under my chin while I buried my face into the solid warmth of him.
“Hi.” He breathed, and I was enveloped by the scent of the minty soap, still clinging to his skin. He pulled the covers up over us and rubbed my back, trying to warm me up.
“Carter?”
He chuckled. “Yeah?”
“Why are you still wearing my hair tie?” He tensed, and then it suddenly dawned on me that maybe it wasn’t mine at all.
“Your hair tie?” He started slowly. Shit. It was someone else’s. Carter drew a long breath before speaking. “Do you want it back?” Back. Relief flooded me. Carter moved to slip the hair tie off. “It’s probably all stretched out now.”
“You keep it.” I smiled. “You’ve been wearing it for almost a year.”
He blew out a small breath in response. “Yeah, a year.”
“Mmm.” I hummed, feeling sleep quickly closing in as his fingers trailed over my back, tracing a mystery pattern over and over again. I shivered, not sure if it tickled, soothed, or aroused, but I didn’t care. He was touching me, and it felt incredible.
Actually, I didn’t know if anything had ever felt so good as being pressed against him, as being wrapped in his arms. He felt… like home. Like the thing I’d so desperately been trying to find all these months. Like I was finally safe again and finally had somewhere to land.
As I drifted in and out, there was another question I’d been mulling over that I couldn’t quite make sense of since the last time I’d seen him. I searched my drunk and tired mind trying to find it. He’d mentioned it back at Thanksgiving.
I sleepily relished the soothing rise and fall of his chest against my body as the question finally came to me. “So tell me about this yellow Gatorade thing.” I sleepily demanded, while his body heat seeped into my very bones, staving off the cold I’d been enduring this whole year.
He was quiet, and I wondered if he was asleep already, but then I realized he was still tracing. “You really want to know?”
“Mhmm.” I hummed, barely a grunt.
“You falling asleep on me?” He asked, a smile clearly evident in his voice.
“Mmm.” I was drifting in and out and having a hard time telling what was real and what was dream now. This was probably just a really good dream. That was okay. It was better than having another nightmare.
“Let’s save that story for another night.” He pulled me a little tighter, and I let him.
“Carter?” I tilted my head up, my nose scraping against the underside of his stubbled chin.
He shivered, but his chest shook with laughter. “Yes, Sarafina?”
“Thank you for not leaving.” Definitely a dream.
He stilled and then whispered back, “I’ll never leave you.” And then his nose dropped down to graze against mine.
“This is so much better than a phone call.” I mumbled.
“Yeah. It definitely is.”