32. Chapter 32
Chapter 32
“ I swear I’m almost ready!”
I’m not sure Carter believes me as he leans against the bathroom doorway with his arms crossed, watching me brush my hair frantically as I try to put socks on.
“You’re going to hurt yourself,” he says, voice dripping with humor.
“I don’t want to be late.” I have the nasty habit of getting lost in my tasks and forgetting to get ready until the last minute, which means the eggplant lasagna I decided to make from scratch at 5:00 p.m. left me in a rush to get dressed and tame my hair.
“I think your friends will understand if you get there five minutes late instead of coming on time but concussed.”
I give him the stink eye as I grab my toothbrush and brush my teeth. Maybe I’m also jittery because I’m excited for tonight. Since Lexie and Finn aren’t going on their honeymoon in Italy for a few months, they invited Aaron, Wren, Carter, and me for a game night to celebrate once more. I was afraid to ask Carter at first since this seemed like the last thing on earth he’d want to attend, but he surprised me by saying yes. Maybe he did because it was so obvious I was desperate for him to accept the invitation, but I’m happy all the same.
Carter doesn’t move from his spot in the doorway, looking hot as sin in his usual dark jeans and short-sleeved T-shirt showing off all those beautiful tattoos. Now that I’ve gotten to see them from up close, I’m even more awestruck. He explained each of their meanings to me one evening over dinner, from references to movies that shaped him—the pickaxe was a callback to Shawshank Redemption—to doodles he’d seen the tattoo artist make and liked. Ropes and vine are intertwined between the pieces, making them all appear to be part of one big masterpiece. I try to look away from him, but I can’t find the strength to do so, and the smirk he gives me tells me he knows it too well.
I finally get myself to turn back toward the sink to spit, and I jump when I realize the toothbrush I’m holding is blue, not purple.
“Oh my God,” I say, dropping it to the counter like it’s a ticking bomb.
“What? What’s wrong?” Carter says, now by my side.
“I used your toothbrush by accident. I’m so sorry.”
I lean down to grab a new one from the cupboard while Carter rinses the old one, but when I straighten up, I find him with the blue toothbrush in his mouth.
“What are you doing?” I gasp, going to grab it from him.
He moves away, then spits his toothpaste in the sink before he says, “Honey, I think we’ve done way worse than share a toothbrush already. ”
Heat immediately rushes to my face, recalling the way he woke me up this morning with his head between my thighs before he had to leave for work. We still haven’t had much time together, only stealing moments here and there, getting each other off in quick exchanges before one of us has to leave, but it’s only made me want him more. I want time with him when I’m not in a rush, when I can explore him at leisure and discover all the ways to make him tick. I want a real repeat of the wedding night.
The look he gives me then, as if he, too, is remembering this morning, the way I tugged at his hair as I came with his name on my tongue, makes me want to say fuck it and make this moment now.
But we don’t have time.
I pull my hair back into a ponytail and decide this will have to do. “All right, let’s go.” I pass Carter as I make my way out toward the foyer, and when I get a whiff of the cologne he’s spritzed over his clothes, I use the self-control of a saint and don’t stop to kiss him.
He doesn’t grant me the same courtesy, though.
With a hand on my waist, he stops me in my tracks and tugs me to his chest before bringing his lips to my ears, sending tingles all throughout my body. “Maybe I don’t mind being a little late.”
Damn you, Finn, and your stupid game night.
I twist in Carter’s arms so I can face him, and just as I’ve pressed the softest kiss to his lips, I pull back and whisper, “Tough luck.”
The stunned look on his face is worth all the money in the world .
I walk out of his embrace, tugging at his hand. “Come on, Romeo. Monopoly awaits.”
“You’re a fucking cheater!”
Aaron cackles in Finn’s face as he waits for his payment with an extended hand.
“You’re literally too much,” Lexie chastises her new husband, even though she also seems to be finding it funny. She wouldn’t be alone. I’ve been wiping tears under my eyes ever since the game got spicy and everyone started being sneaky and making low-blows to others, especially Aaron, who loves to rile Finn up.
“I swear to God, this game is rigged,” my baby of a best friend says as he counts his fake dollar bills to make his loser’s payment.
“Who would’ve expected Monopoly to be so violent,” Wren says, making Lexie snicker.
“I would’ve,” she answers. “Those two are uncontrollable.”
“Your turn, new guy,” Finn says, handing Carter the dice, which he juggles before throwing them. Then he advances the required number of squares, which leads him to have to draw a card. He picks one up, then reads it in his head before a slow grin travels to his lips.
“What?” I ask.
It’s not at me he looks when he answers, but at Finn as he finally reads aloud, “Have the player of your choice pay five thousand dollars in taxes. ”
“No fucking way,” Finn says, and we all burst out laughing.
“Pay up, Finnigan,” Lexie coos, her nose tickling his neck.
“You’re the worst. All of you.” He throws Carter a sizzling stare. “You’ll pay for this.”
Aaron’s laughter is boisterous as he begins tormenting Finn, the way I’ve seen them do ever since we met.
“Gotta stop goading him,” Wren tells Aaron, her feet snuggled in his lap on the couch as she sips on a glass of red wine. “They’ll never want to do game nights with us again.”
“Oh, I’m down to do this anytime.” Lexie pokes her grumbling partner in the stomach. “Seeing him this fired up makes my day,” she teases.
“You’re a pain in my ass, Crabby,” he tells her.
“Look who’s talking.”
He grins and kisses her.
“Get yourself a room,” Aaron shouts.
“Oh, shut up,” Wren tells him, chuckling, while Finn gives him the finger, never breaking away from the kiss with his wife.
I steal a piece of the yaniqueques Aaron brought over, smiling as I eat and look around at all those people I love so, so much. And when my eyes land on Carter, my smile finds a way to grow even bigger. That man, who I used to beg for even a hint of emotion, is now chuckling softly as he counts the money Finn gave him, all the while Finn starts bickering with him and Aaron again. That smile I’d started to believe would only ever make an appearance when we’re the two of us alone makes me so happy I could cry. He feels comfortable here, for some reason. Maybe this is another place, or another set of people, with whom he could let his guard down.
I shift over the pillow I dropped on the floor and sat on so I can put a hand on Carter’s thigh and squeeze it. I don’t know how much PDA he’ll be okay with since we ourselves don’t know what we are exactly, but as soon as I touch him, he clutches my hand and lifts it with his to rest on top of the coffee table as if we’ve done this a thousand times before. I notice everyone’s eyes darting toward our hands, but no one says a word, and the rest of the night goes like this, with Carter and me moving closer and closer until I’m almost in his lap. And as we finish the game of Monopoly—Aaron winning and Finn almost crying about it—and we move on to another game, then another, everyone eating and laughing, I realize Carter and I are acting like an actual married couple. With his arm around my waist, my long-time friends teasing him, the two of us exchanging knowing glances when Aaron says something about the city of Montreal or when Lexie mentions how strong alcohols aren’t for her, it doesn’t feel fake. Not one bit.
I now watch him moving his character on the LIFE board, and when he crosses the married line and throws me a private wink, I want it. I want it so freaking bad. This life, this marriage. I want us to keep coming here for game nights, not as friends or living partners but as an us. I want him to always look at me when he hears something funny and wants to share it with me. I want to be the person he teases when we play just like Lexie did with Finn. I want it all .
Those tingles I feel every time we touch, every time I even think of him, aren’t just lust.
I’m pretty sure they’re from being hopelessly in love with him.
We leave their place way past midnight, my cheeks hurting from smiling so much. Carter and I walk the few streets toward where we parked earlier, his arm around my shoulders, warming me. When we reach the car, he opens the door for me, and as soon as he sits in the driver’s seat and closes his door, I can’t hold back any longer. I take his jaw between my hands and kiss him.
I know with my realization from earlier, I should probably keep my distance and protect my heart, but I think it’s too late for that.
“What was that for?” Carter asks when I pull back.
“I’m happy.” Simple as that.
The five o’clock shadow on his cheeks tickles my fingers as his eyes alternate between mine. And then his lips are on mine again, hungrier this time.
His hands come to my hips as we deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding into my mouth and earning a moan out of me as he lifts me from my seat and drops me so I’m straddling him. The steering wheel jabs me in the back, but I could not care less as Carter’s mouth travels down my neck, to my collarbone, and then to the top of my breasts, where he presses wet kisses before dragging my face back to his .
He tastes like cola and like the chocolate we shared earlier, each stroke of his tongue more delicious than the last. I feel dizzy, an ache building between my thighs, and when I shift forward, Carter is hard and ready in his jeans under me.
I can’t get enough of him. The tight grip he has on my hair, like he’s afraid I’ll get away, the sounds he lets out when I lick a path from those annoyingly attractive neck tendons to his earlobe, the way his hips grind in rhythm with mine to create the perfect friction where I want him.
Still, it’s not enough.
“I want you,” I whisper against his lips, both our rapid breaths filling the silence of the car.
“Now?” he asks, not like a complaint but like he wants to make sure we’re both on the same wavelength.
“Yes.” I unbutton his jeans, then drag his zip down. “Now.”
The next moments are a blur of limbs as we pull Carter’s pants low enough to release his cock, firm and glistening with lust, and then to lift my skirt up to my waist.
The street we’re parked on is in a secluded part of town, and not a soul seems to be out at this hour. I don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to anyway. This need is too intense, too profound for me to think about possible consequences.
Carter tugs my panties to the side, not even taking the time to pull them off, then slides one finger up my wet slit, hissing. “Fucking hell. You’re killing me, Fireball.”
I gasp at the contact, then squeeze his shoulders tighter as he inserts his finger inside me, his slowness pure torture. I pick up the pace myself, riding his finger, head thrown back when he adds another.
“Greedy little thing,” he whispers before pulling down my top with his free hand, then takes a nipple in his mouth.
“Carter,” I moan, moving even faster. “I want more.”
“More?” He brings his thumb to my clit and starts to circle.
“Shit,” I mutter, then reach between us to grip him. “I need you.”
“Good, ’cause I need you too.” He pulls his fingers out, and I only have a second to mourn the loss before his tip is at my entrance, sliding in an inch. We both gasp, our faces aligned, mouths parted against the other’s, his upper lip leaned against my bottom one.
“Take what you need, honey,” he says, and our eyes remain locked as I sink down, taking him to the hilt.
His groan fills the car, but I don’t give either of us any time to adjust, already moving against him. This is nothing like our last time, exploratory and slow. This is taking for the sake of taking, connecting because there’s no other option, because I need him and he needs me and nothing else will tame this hunger.
The way he looks at me as I ride him, with his eyes glinting and his lips parted, makes me feel like a goddess, like this is just as good to him as it is to me. It gives me confidence I never knew I needed, enough that I fully take control, finding a pace that makes tension rise in my belly.
My nails dig in his upper back as he hits a spot that makes me gasp, again and again .
“That’s it. You take me so good.”
His praises only make me coil tighter, and when he brings a finger to my clit and resumes his circles, I know I won’t last long. It’s as if he knows what I need before even I do. As if he’s letting me be in control, but he’ll still make sure to bring me right where I need to be.
“I can’t get enough of you,” he says on an exhale, gazing at where his finger is wreaking havoc on my body. I move faster against him, that tension building even more. “You’ve got me wrapped around your pretty little finger.” Then he takes my mouth in a breath-stealing kiss, and an orgasm stronger than I’ve ever experienced shatters me, wave after wave of pleasure cresting over me. I part long enough to call his name, then kiss him once more, feeling halfway out of my body as I continue spasming around him.
“Come inside of me,” I beg, and a second later, his thrusts quicken until his warmth fills me, grunts escaping his throat as he holds me even closer than before.
We remain this way for a long time, and even though I know we should move away and drive home, I stay right where I am. He doesn’t push me off either, instead running a hand through my hair with his nose against my cheek, his breaths a lullaby as our heartbeats slow.
This was more than sex. It felt like making love.
And while I know I’m down bad, there’s a chance he’s not that far behind me.