15. Sloan
Chapter fifteen
Sloan
A sliver of sunlight slips through the curtains, pulling me from the deepest sleep I’ve had in ages.
I snuggle into the broad chest next to me, sliding my hand over firm stomach muscles as I wrap my arm around the man I’m quickly developing feelings for. I don’t even remember the last time I woke up next to a man, and his warmth is comforting.
Though rested, my body is deliciously sore, yet also primed. It’s as if the best sex I’ve ever experienced conditioned me to want more, instead of satisfying me like it should have. Not that I’m dissatisfied, I’m just… ravenous.
That shouldn’t be possible. Carter and I indulged in each other well into the night, so there’s no reason for me to be craving him again right now. But I am. I try to shove that thought from my mind and just enjoy the sensation of being near him, cradled in his arms. It works, until he starts tracing his fingers over my back.
“Cold?” he asks when I shiver.
“No.” I snuggle closer.
“Aroused?” I hear the smirk in his voice even though I can’t see it.
“Maybe. ”
“Good.” He rolls toward me so we’re facing each other, trapping his perfect, firm cock between us, and nibbles at my neck. “I like waking up next to you.”
“I like it too.” My voice sounds especially breathless as I rock my hips into the rigid length that satisfies me again and again. That’s the spot. He cocks an eyebrow at me, and I thrust forward again.
“We should make a habit of it,” he whispers.
“Waking up next to each other or morning sex?” I thread my fingers through his hair as he kisses over my collar bone and nibbles at the spot where it meets my neck.
“Both.”
His kisses drift lower, down my chest, to my hip bones. I shimmy away just before he reaches my dick. “I should shower before you do that.” My chest heaves as I try to get my breathing under control.
“Why?” he grumbles before kissing my thigh.
“Because I’m pretty sure I didn’t dream about the dual hand jobs in the middle of the night, and we never cleaned up.” I twist again to avoid his mouth and prop myself on my elbows to see his face.
Carter sits on his knees and pins me with a firm look. Between that and his engorged cock jutting straight up, I feel rather than see my shaft twitch in anticipation.
“I don’t want to eat cock that takes like soap, I want it to taste like sex. Besides, I’m the one that made you dirty, so I’ll be the one to lick you clean.” He clamps his large hands on my thighs and spreads me wide, leaning down to run his tongue along my length. “Fuck that tastes good. You and me together.” He gives me another lick, humming his satisfaction.
That’s so filthy. Why does it turn me on? After our first encounter, which was a little rushed thanks to our mutual lust, I’ve learned that Carter is not quiet during sex, and it seems to take things to another level. A deliciously dirty one.
My head suddenly feels too heavy to hold up, but I want to watch Carter devour me. I want more of the filthy words that my body reacts to. “What does it taste like?”
“You want a taste?” He lifts his head with a look that’s both wicked and intrigued.
I nod.
He kneels between my legs and rubs the head of his dick along mine, mixing our precum together. Then he crawls up my body and offers me his cock.
I lick my lips—smiling when a pained moan drifts from his throat—then lap the head tentatively, letting the flavor hit my tongue. I immediately recognize his somewhat woodsy taste, though there’s also a hint of a lighter, salty musk that must be mine. Opening wider, I wrap my lips around the head, sucking gently in an effort to capture more of his unique flavor.
He inches forward, then retreats just as slowly.
Again.
And again.
Carter rocks his hips back and forth, feeding me only as much as I can handle before pulling back. I can tell the effort to go slow is straining him by the way he balls his fists at his side, but he keeps his pace measured.
“Good, or you want more?”
“More?” My dazed brain doesn’t follow.
He pulls away and nestles between my legs, rubbing our crowns together before kneeling over my chest and crawling over me to offer another taste.
I open my mouth eagerly, earning another strained groan .
My arousal makes him slippery, and he pumps in and out of my mouth with ease. Though I do my best to suck off every last drop, I barely register the taste of us together. Instead, I’m focused on the way his stomach ripples as he thrusts, the way his eyelids flutter as he works my mouth.
“It’s too good. I need to fuck you now,” he rasps as he slides out of my mouth and covers my body with his.
I’m still slick and stretched from the night’s activities, but Carter adds more lube before lining up to my entrance.
His slow, steady invasion has my breath involuntarily stopping, not so much from discomfort as from fear that even breathing will distract me from the awareness of him entering me, and I don’t want to miss a thing. We’ve only done this a few times, but I can’t imagine the sensation of Carter filling me, of lighting me up inch by decadent inch, will ever get old. I could come from that alone.
Bracing himself on his forearms Carter sets a steady rhythm, faster than when he was teasing me with my taste, but slow enough to savor every thrust, every brush of his tip against my core.
He’s so deep, my release starts building almost as soon as he enters me, but he doesn’t let me have it. He switches to sharp, shallow thrusts, giving me a preview of the pleasure to come while still withholding it, so I raise my hips to urge him back.
“Patience,” he growls in my ear. “I want you coming with me, but I don’t want to finish yet.”
That nearly does me in, though not because even the half thrusts feel good. The idea that he wants us to finish together, which somehow makes sex seem even more intimate, touches me on a different level. An emotional one.
There’s been no discussion about what we are or where this is going, nothing beyond the fact that we’re willing to trust each other not to let our personal interactions interfere with our careers. That alone speaks to the fact that this isn’t just sex, and while it never was for me, it’s not until this instant that I allow myself to think maybe it will be okay to really let myself fall for this man.
As if he can read my mind, Carter seals our lips together, kissing me without abandon as he gives in to his body’s desire. Within seconds, I’m on the verge of exploding, and he withdraws completely, his thick cock bobbing heavily as he kneels above me. I love that sight.
“I’m feeling pretty good about being able to rile you up so fast, only I don’t want you there yet.” He grins down at me.
“You look like you’re about there.”
He gives his dick a long, slow stroke. It makes my own throb with need.
“I am,” he smiles slyly. “But it’ll be so much better if we don’t race to the finish.” He lines up and presses inside me, little by little. My breath gets caught in my chest. “If I got to have my fill of you every day I’d take you fast, slow, hard, soft, and everything in between. Since I don’t know when I’ll get you again, I’m taking my time.”
Once again, his words have me ready to combust. So, I press my lips to his, hoping to distract myself from the pleasure building between my legs.
Carter stills as we kiss, which leaves me hovering on the edge. Yet somehow, I’m also content, the sensation of being joined without moving, sending me back to that place where I think my feelings can, and will, move past respect and affection.
As his tongue meets mine and we breathe each other’s air, I let myself drift to a place where this could be my life. It has as much appeal as the career I’ve dreamed of. Maybe more.
“Fuck, Sloan. You feel so good around me,” Carter groans as he starts to move again, unable to hold back.
He drives into me full and hard, letting his body’s desire dictate his movement. Rolling his hips with each thrust, he’s able to peg my prostate and rub his abs over my dick, stimulating every pleasure center on my body with that simple motion. My tiny gasps turn into moans, then screams as we fight to get closer, to reach the precipice together.
“Come with me. Come now,” he pants as he thrusts, pushing us both over the edge.
My cock erupts, shuddering between us as my ass clenches around his cock. Despite the intensity of my own tremors, I feel his dick pulsing inside me, the spasms rendering us both immobile. Lungs straining for air, I’m helpless to do anything but cling to him as we ride out the ecstasy coursing through our joined bodies. Minutes later, or maybe it’s just seconds, Carter’s lips find mine in a slow, sweet kiss.
“Not a bad way to start the day. Definitely need to make a habit of this,” he says.
“Morning sex?”
“Mind-blowing orgasms.” He kisses along my jawline to my ear.
“I admit the idea has appeal.” I stroke the back of his neck as he nuzzles me. “But I’m on my feet every day, and I need my legs to work.”
“It’s Sunday, who cares if your legs work. We should spend the whole day in bed.”
“Sundays are busy at the restaurant. My shift starts at ten.” I exhale heavily, regretting that I can’t spend the day right here in Carter’s arms.
“And after?” He brushes a strand of hair off my forehead.
“I work a double. I’ll probably go home and crash.” I muster a weak smile.
“Any way to talk you into crashing here? ”
“Maybe next weekend?” I bite my lip as I go over my schedule in my mind. It’s not the answer either of us want, but it’s the one that will keep our secret.
“I guess that’ll have to do.” He gives me a tender kiss and slides out. “You can have that shower now. When you’re done, I’ll have breakfast ready.”
“You aren’t showering with me?”
“If I do, you won’t make it to work by ten. Besides, I don’t want you working all day on an empty stomach.”
Carter shrugs on a shirt and a pair of track pants, which look just as good on him as his suits. With a sexy little wink, he heads off to the kitchen, leaving me to wonder if his desire for more mornings like this means his mind is wandering into relationship territory, too.
***
A flannel-clad Lennon slides into the booth across from me as I’m rolling silverware, a knowing smirk on his face. “Big step, inviting your loverboy to hang with the rest of the group. How did they take it?”
The fork in my hand clatters when it hits the table. I ignore it and reach for another as if I never dropped it to begin with. “In what way does inviting someone to a bike race make him my loverboy? And who even uses that term?”
“It makes him your lover because you’re turning pink, and I say it because that’s what he is. Unless he’s your boyfriend and you’re not telling me.” I feel his skeptical eyes on me as he sips black coffee from his mug .
“I’m pink because it’s hot in here. And he’s not my boyfriend.” I leave out the part where that’s only true because we haven’t had the conversation and start on another set of silverware.
“If he’s not your loverboy and not your boyfriend why’d you invite him to the race?”
I say a little thank you that Blake gave me the perfect excuse. “I had to fill a costume so Ally wouldn’t freak out, Carter needed to start interacting with people in town, so it was a win, win.”
“How do you know he needed to meet people in town?”
“He mentioned it during a massage one time.” I stack my finished silverware rolls in a plastic tub and stretch my fingers, hoping to loosen them up after that repetitive task.
“Before or after he got a boner?”
I feel my jaw working but no words come out. Damn I wish I’d never confirmed that was Carter.
“Ready to admit defeat yet?” Lennon’s eyes dance with a mischievous flare.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I repeat robotically.
“Loverboy then. Cool.”
“Shh,” I hiss. “That’s my boss you’re talking about.”
“Who you’re sleeping with, apparently.”
I swing my head around to make sure no one else is in hearing distance. “We’d prefer not to broadcast that.”
“We?” Lennon arches a brow.
“Yes, we . It’s obviously not an ideal situation so we’re keeping it between us.”
“It’s not ideal for you . For him it’s inconsequential.” He shakes his head like he’s daring me to object.
“We talked about it and agreed that whatever happens between us will have no impact on our work. Besides, weren’t you the one who said a guy doesn’t look at a man the way he looks at me unless he wants him?” I cross my arms in front of my chest, so I don’t flail them around and draw attention to us.
“I did say that, but that wasn’t an endorsement, just an observation. Look,” he sighs, “there’s obviously some serious chemistry between you, and all kidding aside you seem like you might like him, so I’m happy for you. I just want you to be careful. Sleeping with the boss is dangerous, no matter how much you want to believe it isn’t.”
“Even when it isn’t just sex?” I hold my breath.
“Is it more than that?” he asks after a prolonged pause.
“Yes.” I let my arms fall to my lap. “I don’t know what yet, but yes. Neither of us would go down this path otherwise.”
“If that’s true, why keep things a secret?” Lennon doesn’t take his watchful eyes off me even as he sips his coffee.
“Because I don’t want to give anyone the impression I’m sleeping my way to the job I want.”
“The secrecy is your idea?” Lennon’s mouth drops open.
“It’s mutual, but I’m more sensitive to how it looks than he is, especially since Finn works for him too. I guess in a way that makes it my idea.”
Lennon offers me a weak smile. “I know you’ve only been here a year, but that’s long enough for most people to realize you wouldn’t use sex to get a job.”
“Maybe not, but that doesn’t mean people won’t talk.”
“You picked the wrong town if you’re worried about that,” he chuckles without any humor. “Seriously though, anytime someone says, ‘Oh wow, Sloan and Carter ,’ it will quickly be followed by, ‘ What a cute couple .”’
“I think it’s more likely people will say, ‘ Is he out of his mind?’ Especially my sister and her husband.”
“Maybe that would change if you can get Carter to share his plans for the resort with the rest of us.” Lennon’s tone suggests he’s trying to be supportive, though there’s more than a little truth behind his statement. Everyone is wondering what the plans are since the resort is so critical to the town.
I could tell him that Carter and Finn have talked, but that would only open a door that I’m not in any position to walk him through. Not when the things I know were said to me in confidence. “I’m sure when he’s got something to share, he will,” I say, diplomatically.
He holds my gaze for a minute, almost like there’s something else he wants to say. Instead, he offers another weak smile. “Your secret is safe with me until you’re ready to share it.”
“Thank you,” I sigh just as Beck bounds over to the table with a couple of iced teas.
“Carter, huh?” He bumps my hip as he slides into the booth next to me, eyes sparkling as he reaches past me for the sugar.
“Nothing to see here,” Lennon says wryly. “I’ve already given him the third degree.”
“Oh.” His face falls. “I was wondering if he was Mr. Tent Pole.”
Lennon chokes on his coffee. “Please don’t say that in front of me. I don’t want to know who you’re fantasizing about.”
“Who said anything about fantasizing? The man’s hot but he’s too old for me. I’m speculating on Sloan’s behalf.”
I shake my head, carefully avoiding Lennon’s eyes. “I just found a Spiderman substitute for Blake. Besides, he’s technically my boss.”
“Pity.” Beck shrugs. “I bet that guy can pitch one hell of a tent.” Fortunately, he’s too busy adding sugar to his tea to notice the look Lennon and I exchange.