Chapter 26
CARLIE
Who knew standing naked in front of this one man would have me nervous? I don’t get nervous with men.
It’s never been serious enough to bother.
Until now.
Now, the way Lawson makes me feel is unsettling, like something wild and free with a life of its own. My body trembles as I stand, chest heaving. The wisps of air gracing my lungs despite their desperate rise and fall sears.
I’m out of control. I have no say in the way my body responds to his.
I love it. I hate it.
I need him. Every inch of me burns, the only way to douse it being his touch. I’m not sure when this happened, but somehow, he snuck past the wall I so meticulously built to keep people out.
Possibly, it had something to do with the shape of his big heart.
“You tell me to stop, and we will.” His knuckles graze my jaw, his blue eyes searching mine. “But hell, Princess.” His voice is pure gravel.
I don’t want him to stop, even if he—we—could.
I close the distance between us and slide my fingers over his jawline and into his hair as I breathe, “No stopping. No second-guessing. No holding back.”
“Don’t need to tell a man twice,” he growls.
He fucking growls at me.
Rough hands grip my ass, and I’m back up on his hips a second later. Hungry open-mouthed kisses travel up my neck, and I roll my head back as my eyes flutter shut with the ecstasy.
Oh god.
He doesn’t move toward my bed but the en suite, and I drop my gaze back to him. “Where are we going?”
“After an entire day traveling, shower first.”
I huff a laugh. “’Course.”
I mean, I showered. But he’s still in his day clothes. The thrill of getting to strip Lawson drives me wild. I tug at the hem of his polo impatiently.
He chuckles as we step into the bathroom, and he sets me down on the vanity.
Not where I want to be.
He takes a step back and flips the water on in the shower. I slide off the marble surface and close in on him as he turns back. When I tug on his shirt this time, he raises his arms, and I toss it up and off before letting it fall to the tiles.
Urgh, he’s fucking perfect. Toned, just as I remember. All angled muscles and a light dusting of chest hair. The five-o’clock shadow on his jawline adds to the heat radiating from his darkened eyes.
The resort seems like ages ago, or maybe it’s the immense change in how I feel about this man making me feel like the journey was long.
I let my fingers wander over the planes of his chest, up and over his shoulders and down his arms, hesitating as my fingers reach his.
Lacing them through mine, he closes in on me, pushing my back to the glass door of the shower.
“Fuck me, seeing you this way is even better than that sassy little mouth of yours.”
His mouth devours mine. I open, desperate, wanting him everywhere.
Wanting him, period.
I send my fingers down his hard stomach, hunting for the fly on those Levi’s. Too impatient to wait for him to break from the kiss, I flick it open, shoving his jeans and boxers past his hips. Without losing contact, his tongue swirling against mine, he kicks the jeans to the side.
Heat and wetness flood my center as he grinds his hard length into my apex. I send my hands through his hair, tugging on it to coax him away from my mouth.
Blue eyes the darkened shade of a deep ocean undertow burn into mine.
“Shower, remember . . .” I choke out.
He nods, pressing his forehead against mine as he briefly cups my face. “Shower.”
It’s when he steps back, taking my hand, that I see the full, raw, bare man in front of me. And holy fucking hell.
If I wasn’t on fire before, I am now.
Strong, muscular legs, a flat, hard six pack supporting his toned chest, bulging biceps, and ropey forearms.
God, I’m drooling, I just know it.
Fuck.
Perfection has nothing on Lawson Rawlins.
“You’re staring, Princess.” He tugs my hand, and we’re in the shower a heartbeat later.
Instead of washing the long day of travel away, he pulls me into the water stream, hand sliding into my hair as he tugs my head back, closing his mouth over mine.
Water rains down over his back and shoulders as he protects me from the hot spray.
Steam curls around the small en suite space, obscuring the visibility. Clouding my head as it goes. Or maybe that’s the man gripping me tight, eating me the fuck alive.
I—
I need . . .
I can’t breathe.
Fingers curling into his shoulders, I whimper. He breaks away, his gaze studying my face. “Tell me.”
Tell you I want to ride your perfect face?
My hands tremble.
Tell you I want to be impaled by the only man to turn my hardened shell into a brittle, useless facade . . .
I try to haul in a useful parcel of air and fail.
Tell you—
“Stop. We’re not overthinking this, alright?” His hands grip my face, tilting my gaze up to his.
“I feel like I’m unraveling,” I whisper, the last syllable breaking.
He tilts his head, his jaw feathering. “With me, you’re supposed to.”
His words are earnest, the tone so raw and low, my face crumples. He folds me into his arms, and I sink my face into his neck.
God, this must be what safe feels like.
His hand tangles in my hair as he holds tight. Just holds me.
My unwavering disbelief in love starts to crack. Like the first sign of an earthquake through a cement wall, the crack races up the wall and the broken chip pops from the very top.
I’m done for.
Thoroughly screwed if this goes south.
Lawson releases me, his thumb brushing over my cheek. “I want to see your face fall apart, but not like this. There’re better ways to crack this beautiful mouth open.”
He dips his head to my neck, suckling, and my breath hitches. He plants hot kisses over my shoulders before his lips close over my hardened nipple. Automatically, my hands slide into his hair, wandering around like they fucking live there. Puttering lazily, as if this moment could last forever.
His lips release my sensitive nipple with a pop.
“Fuck, how long I’ve wanted to do that, Princess.”
“Stop talking about it and do it.”
His hand slaps my ass. “Bossy little thing, aren’t you.”
“Only when it’s something I really want.”
I’m manhandled against the tiled wall as he sinks to his knees.
“Laws—”
“Not yet, you don’t get to say my name yet.”
“What?” I breathe.
He looks up, hair wet, on his knees, water droplets littering his skin, and smiles. “Give me a minute or two.”
His large hands spread my thighs like he’s going to . . .
“Shit, you don’t have to.”
He glances up with a raised eyebrow. “This, you’re worried about? Trust me, baby, if I don’t get my mouth on this gorgeous pussy I’m going to fucking implode.”
He ducks his head, widening my legs before his finger traces over my entrance.
“Can’t have tha—”
One hot, languid sweep of his tongue through my center and I’m buckling against the wall. “Fu—Oh, god.”
My hands slap to the tile by my sides. I try desperately to hold myself up as he licks and suckles my clit. Heat pools rapidly in my core.
He bites down, and I jerk against the wall. “The hell?”
A brief grin plays over his lips before he suckles away the sting, and I melt against the tile. “A—again, please. Lawson.”
“You like that, baby?”
I nod, the desperate movement harried.
“We can do better.”
He dives back in, flicking my sensitive nub with his tongue. Two fingers push into my aching center, and I whimper, eyes shuttering closed as my head lolls to the side.
An orgasm builds, weaving its delicious heat through my core, starting to radiate.
The sting registers as he bites down again. This time, he pumps his fingers slowly as he suckles away the discomfort.
And I explode around him.
One hand grips down on my hip, holding my pussy to his face, and I rock through the blissful waves.
Lawson coaxes every incredible wave higher, pumping his fingers, sucking down hard, not letting the contact break.
My mouth agape, I can’t take my eyes off him as he wrings out the last waves tumbling through my center.
Going limp against the tile, I try to find words to say who knows what. What do you say to the man whose face gave you the orgasm of your life?
Pretty sure those words don’t exist . . .
The buzz starts to melt into my bones as my breath returns to normal, and all I want is to see the way he breaks under the same scrutiny.
“Up.” I tug on his hair, sliding a hand over his jaw as he stands. “Wall.”
He shakes his head. “Shower first, Princess. Then I’m all yours.”
“Fine. But just so you’re aware . . . this goes both ways.”
“It always has, Carlie.”
We’re not just talking about the pleasure we can give each other, I don’t think.
Needing a moment to process that one line, I kiss his cheek and push through the shower door to grab my towel. I dry off and find him a towel before padding to the bed. Checking my phone for any messages or missed calls from Mills—there are zero—I lie on the bed, wrapped in my towel.
The ceiling stares down at me as I scan its pale surface, hunting for the meaning in the last few weeks. How everything I believe is currently being challenged by the very naked, very gorgeous man in my shower.
The water shuts off, and I breathe in a lungful. My body still buzzes with his touch. With the thought of touching him. Seeing his handsome damn face wrecked. I sit up as he pads toward the bed, a towel wrapped around his hips.
He runs a hand through his damp hair, biceps flexing, eyes pinning me to the bed where I sit. But when he closes the distance, I do something I swore I would never.
I drop from the edge of the bed to my knees.
I look up.
I’m on my knees. For a man.
The part that pulls relentlessly at my heartstrings is why I want to do this. I’m desperate to make him feel good. To make him fall apart for me.
Determined, I slide a finger behind the towel and lift my gaze to his.
“On your knees for me, Princess?”
“Don’t let it go to your head, Cowboy.”
He smiles, a crooked stunning thing kicking up on one side of his face.
“Open your mouth, baby.”
I tug the towel down, and it crumples onto the floor.
“Yes sir.”