30. An Angel with Wicked Intentions
An Angel with Wicked Intentions
CARTER
One minute earlier…
Sara loomed in front of me breathless, her dare hanging in the air like a crime waiting to be committed. I wanted to kiss her so fucking bad, but I knew there was no going back, no undoing it once it was done.
This was a big night for her, a weird fucking day for me. Maybe we were caught up in a moment, maybe this would pass.
God, she looked so beautiful right now, her wide brown eyes gazing up at me through those dark lashes. You’d almost think she was innocent until you saw the rest of her—the God-damned red dress she was wearing.
Fingers trembling with restraint, I closed my eyes and willed myself to keep my hands where they were, despite every silken curve resting under my fingertips, just begging to be touched, explored, tasted .
This was madness.
I should stop before I ruined everything, before someone got hurt. Probably me. She was my best friend. I needed her. Couldn’t afford to lose her.
Her voice was heartbreakingly soft as she uttered that one little word, “Please. ”
And I was the weakest man alive as I let that one-syllable word break my resolve. “Fuck it.” I rasped, reckless and greedy—dying to finally taste my little strawberry temptation.
Sara was utterly pliant as I took her face in both hands, as I tilted her lips up to mine, and the sound she made was nearly enough to undo me right then and there.
Suddenly, it didn’t matter that this was a terrible idea. I didn’t care anymore. Now, here, this—there was nothing but the smell of her, the feel of her, the sound of her.
“Carter.” She whimpered, clutching my shirt as my lips brushed against hers gently, the first stroke of contact enough to make us both combust.
God, the sound of my name in her mouth.
I wanted everything.
I traced her lips with mine, relishing in the soft feel of her skin, wondering if I was dreaming. My zipper was painfully tight as I scented the trace of strawberry and buttercream lingering on her supple mouth.
More, I needed more.
I slotted my mouth against hers, tongue sweeping across that delicious lower lip as I tasted her for the first time.
Fuck if I could remember my own name, but I didn’t have to as she uttered it again.
I swallowed her whimpers down my throat while she slid her arms around my neck and I pulled her even closer, desperate for so much more.
I kissed her slowly at first, discovering the feel of her lips on mine, of her body pressed against every inch of me. Her needy little sounds, desperate and wanting, as I discovered how perfectly she fit against me. Just like I knew she would.
She tasted better than I could have imagined. She was all sweetness, ice cream yes, but her very essence, the smell of her, it was almost too much.
Sara’s tongue met mine as I swept it into her mouth, and every little sound she made, the feel of her perfect tits pressed against my chest as she pulled me closer, was all too much, and simultaneously not enough.
I could feel myself becoming ravenous for her, and I didn’t want to go too far, too fast. Didn’t want to be another guy who took more than she was ready to give.
It took everything in me to break the kiss, but I did, and I was already aching for more as I gazed down at her, breathless and a little undone. Perfect.
Sara broke into a shy smile and giggled nervously, but she didn’t look away. Instead, she gripped me by the lapels and inched up on tiptoe. “Why’d you stop?” She rasped, giving me a look through her lashes that made me want to throw her over my shoulder like an uncivilized brute.
I was so fucked.
A lopsided grin spread over my own face as I gazed into my best friend’s eyes and knew nothing would ever be the same again. “Oh, you want more?” I practically purred, letting her pull me back down to her mouth. “Aren’t you a greedy little thing.”
“So what if I am?” She laughed breathily, and I couldn’t help myself as I went back for seconds.
The next slow-burning kiss was like water running over river rocks. Smooth and fluid, and quickly turning more rapid.
Sara’s fingers threaded through my hair, tugging, as her supple body writhed against my own, and I groaned at the contact, at the incinerating need for her.
I slid my hand up her neck and tilted her face, angling her the way I wanted, relishing that she let me. Her back arched as I pulled her closer, deepening the kiss, being careful to keep her arms around my neck and away from the heavy weight at my back.
Our kissing quickly turned more frantic, more desperate, as we pulled at each other, panting, and tasting, and claiming. The comfort of our friendship a seamless bridge into this new territory.
My hands wandered over one silken curve after another, stopping just below the tempting swell of her breasts, where my fingers rose and fell on her ribs with her every rapid breath.
Under the cover of darkness, I knew I could easily push the plunging panel of her dress to the side.
Release one of those pert nipples I’d been struggling not to look at all night.
Instead, I pulled myself back again, breathless and instantly desperate for another taste.
“So, was the strawberry better?” She whispered between panting breaths. “Since you went back for seconds?”
I rested my forehead against hers. “Careful, pretty girl, or that arrogance might get you into trouble.” I hummed, brazenly letting my thumb dust over the bottom curve of her breast.
Her eyes fluttered as she arched into my hand. “Trouble is my middle name, didn’t you know?” I chuckled roughly and did it again, loving how she pretended to be unaffected by it.
But in that moment of pure ecstasy, in that moment of her surrendering to me, softening for me—something more sinister crept in.
Fear.
I pulled her against my chest, hiding my face in her hair as the panic began to sink in.
All night, that voice had been banging around in my head.
It was relentless.
Chanting at me like some primal, barbaric brute.
My eyes shuttered as I replayed the sound of those explosions in the gallery.
The sickening panic I’d felt for that split second.
I’d tried to brush it off, tried to convince myself I was just being jumpy.
Yet, after this morning and the threats those men had made, threats against Sara that absolutely terrified me—I’d nearly reached for the gun that had been a solid weight at my back all night.
Those men, whatever it was they wanted from me, were willing to do whatever it took to get it. Including hurting the ones I loved.
Suddenly, I wanted to puke.
Sara rested her chin on my chest and gazed up at me with a soft smile I struggled to return. She looked so vulnerable, so innocent, her eyes finally bright and alive again.
In that moment, I realized what everyone else seemed to know already. Realized the truth of that chanting voice I’d tried so diligently to silence.
Sara’s body seemed to know the truth of it too as she swayed in my arms, completely trusting, depending on me to take care of her, to keep her safe.
So I let that single word in. Let that war drum beat inside me.
Let it fill me, primal and protective, lusting and wanting.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
Sara was mine, and maybe she always had been.
I surrendered to the realization that no matter how steep the cost, I would do whatever it took to keep her safe and out of harm’s way.
The guilt that washed over me was near unbearable as I scanned the waterfront, scanned the shadows all around us, looking for anything out of the ordinary.
Water lapped softly against the pier, and the stars twinkled softly in the sky, as if nothing was amiss.
All the while my skin prickled because I could feel it— we were being watched.
When I pulled into the garage and turned the off the car, there were a million and one things I wanted to say, but Sara beat me to it as she cleared her throat, “If you want to pretend like it never happened I completely understand. I got caught up in the moment, and I’m sorry if I?—”
“No,” I rasped, seeing the doubt in her eyes as she tried to undo our entire night.
She continued on nervously. “It’s really okay. We can just go back—” she yelped as I hauled her over the console, into my lap before she could finish whatever ridiculous thing she was about to decide. Before I lost her again .
“I don’t want to pretend,” I started and simultaneously heard a soft rip as she settled into my lap. Her dress. I quickly shifted her and made it even worse. “Shit, I’m sorry.”
Sara’s lips crashed against mine, silencing my apology. “Don’t be.” She briefly pulled back and reached down. “I don’t mind if you rip my clothes off.” She breathlessly admitted as I suddenly began to recline.
So fucked.
Sara gave me a devious look as the soft whir of my seat going back filled the air. I would have laughed, would have teased her, but there was nothing humorous about her sitting in my lap looking like that.
Nothing at all.
I swallowed hard as Aphrodite herself slid down, heavy lidded on top of me, and I gripped her thighs as she straddled me, settling in on either side of my waist. “You’re perfect, you know that?” I rasped.
“Carter,” Sara demanded achingly. “Kiss me.”
So I did. I kissed her until she was writhing and swollen lipped, until the car was fogging up, and I was basically dry fucking her over her dress—the damp heat between her legs a tempting invitation as she rode my tented zipper, leaving me wanting so much more.
However, I was not about to fuck my best friend in the car, like a horny teenager. Though it took all my strength once again, I finally broke the kiss, because Sara was not just a quickie car fuck, and definitely not for our first time.
First time. What was I even saying?
We were already so far past a line we should have never crossed.
“We stay in here any longer and we’re going to get ourselves in trouble.” I panted.
“I don’t mind.”