30. An Angel with Wicked Intentions #2
It was a strain to keep my hands still, to keep them from roaming, exploring, ripping more fabric. “I don’t want any of our firsts to be impulsive, or quick, or in the car.”
“What would be so bad about that?” She batted her lashes.
“My sweet, sweet girl.” I breathed. “You are an irresistible temptress hiding behind innocent wide eyes, you know that?”
“Took you long enough to figure it out.” She said with a breathy laugh.
“Just the same.” I swallowed hard as she loomed over me, tempting as fuck. “I can hardly move in here, and while having you on top of me is the stuff of wet dreams, this just won’t do, not with what I have in mind.” I gripped her hips, wondering if I’d gone too far.
“Then take me upstairs.” Sara said through her lashes, and my cock jumped. How could I say no?
Sara screamed with delight as I hauled her over my shoulder and did just that.
When I opened the garage door and closed it behind us, we were all shrieking laughter, but the house was quiet, and Sara’s laughter suddenly turned quiet and breathy.
As she swayed over my shoulder with each step towards my bedroom, I could tell she was incredibly nervous, and, fuck if I wasn’t a little nervous, too.
It took the entire walk down the hall for me to get my head on straight. I was going to kiss her goodnight and then go sleep downstairs.
I was going to fucking behave.
I was an idiot for implying otherwise.
As I approached my bedroom, I set her down against the wall in the hallway and caged her in. Only the faint outline of her lips parting was visible in the dim light.
I leaned in as her eyes fluttered shut, knowing I’d never get enough of this, of her . Should have never started because I didn’t know if I could stop now.
“Carter,” Sara moaned breathily as I kissed a path down her jaw to her neck, finding the hollow beneath her ear, and then traveling back up to her perfect lips. She was like putty in my hands, open, inviting me in for more.
A goodnight kiss, I reminded myself, pulling back to give her a chaste kiss on the forehead before I pushed off the wall, creating much needed space between us.
“Thank you for dinner.” She whispered.
“Let’s do it again sometime.” I teased, leaning on the wall across from her, practically sitting on my hands as I nodded towards the bedroom—time to bid my girl goodnight.
She looked at me for a long moment and swallowed hard before she headed into my bedroom, the soft lamplight illuminating her divine silhouette.
I stayed in the hallway and tried to steady my breath as I gazed at her walking away from me. I wanted her so fucking bad. I had for a long while now.
Having tasted her, kissed her, felt her writhing against me making all those fucking little sounds, it was difficult not to imagine what she’d look like, riding my hand desperately.
Taste like. Head thrown back and squirming on my tongue.
Feel like. Taking my cock underneath me.
She was intoxicating, and she was everything to me.
Which was why I should just go downstairs before I could change my mind.
But I didn’t. Whatever was going to happen or not happen, she’d be the one to decide. I’d let her set the pace. I’d walked away once before and regretted it ever since. I wouldn’t do it again.
I blew out a steady breath, trying to ignore the fact that I was nearly dizzy as all the blood in my body rushed in one direction.
She was watching me with a sleepy expression, only, that’s when I noticed she was trembling. Was she afraid? Or was it something else entirely? I didn’t know what exactly was running through that pretty little head of hers as she fidgeted in front of my bed.
So I stayed in the hallway, unsure if I should come in. I didn’t want to push her too far, too fast, and most of all—I needed to know that I wasn’t going to lose my best friend. I couldn’t afford it. I needed her. So fucking badly, and she had no idea.
I knew she’d had bad experiences with other guys. I didn’t know the specifics, but I knew enough to be worried. She’d been with people who’d taken when she didn’t want to give.
I knew Isaac from the gallery was one of them. He’d crossed some line with her, and it was completely evident by the way Sara had shrunk into herself the moment she’d heard his voice. The thought made my blood boil.
There was a reason she’d never been in a long-term relationship all these years, a pattern that seemed to be repeating itself in her love life.
That night of the charity auction flashed through my mind, and I still didn’t know what exactly had happened in that car before Taggart had dumped her on the side of the road, covered in blood.
She’d never confided the details of that night, even amongst all the secrets we’d shared over the last few months, but I did know one thing.
In one way or another, he’d hurt her too, and after the way she’d responded at Thanksgiving, I didn’t dare ask her about it again.
I knew she’d come to me when she was ready, but right now, I had no fucking idea what she was thinking.
One minute she was mounting me with enough boldness that you’d think it was something she’d done a thousand times, and the next, she was visibly trembling as if she were trapped—I wondered if I was to blame for making her feel that way.
She had so much confidence one minute, and the next, it was like she’d forgotten all about it.
Forgotten the strength, of who she was. That was what healing looked like, I supposed, but still, part of me was terrified that I was about to walk over a landmine that Sara didn’t even remember she’d buried.
I wanted to help her move forward, hopefully with me. I just didn’t know how to do it without getting us both blown up. It was a terrifying prospect to consider.
Not to mention, Liam would lose his shit if he knew his little sister was standing here, like a merciless seductress in front of my bed—he was probably in his own bed, just across the street at this very moment, and he had the door code.
In fact, if he saw me pull into the garage, he could come over at anytime.
“Are you coming in?” Sara asked nervously, her eyes lusty and skittish all at once.
I’d worry about Liam later. “Do you want me to?” I cautiously asked, wondering if I should just turn around and go downstairs.
“Maybe I dare you to,” Sara breathed, licking her lips.
Fuck me. This woman.
My eyes darted between hers as I processed that she did want me to come in, and everything shifted.
Fuck yeah. Internal fist pump.
“You dare me to, huh?” Something about the inviting way she retreated begged me to advance, and like a hypnotized man, I did .
“Mhmm.” She backed up a step, reeling me in with every one of hers.
I could practically see her pulse fluttering wildly in her neck, nipples peaked, hard against her gown, practically begging to be touched.
I gripped the top of the doorframe, staying at the threshold, not coming an inch closer until I got this wild feeling inside me contained. “Are we playing truth or dare now, pretty girl?”
“Yes, and Carter,” she batted her lashes. “I dare you to come in here.” In a flirtatious invitation to play, she pointed to the floor in front of her several times.
I realized my beautiful angel had intentions wicked as sin.
And who was I to deny her?