Chapter 20
Amelie
I can tell I’m fumbling my way through this, unsure and not quite doing it right, but Carter is so kind. He holds my hair back in a messy ponytail with one hand and guides me with the other along with his gentle words of direction.
“Yes, beautiful. Just like that.”
“Slow down a little bit.”
“Holy fuck, yes, that spot…right fucking there.”
It’s empowering. It makes me feel like I can rule the world from a position of submission, and I finally have a sliver of understanding of the concept of servitude in sexual relationships. It isn’t degradation (unless you’re into that) or humiliation (I don’t kink shame), at least not for me, for us, in this moment. It’s about giving pleasure in a selfless way.
Carter tugs on my hair, gently pulling my mouth from him, and I look up at him curiously. “What is it?”
“Your mouth is…holy shit, your mouth is phenomenal, but I really don’t want to come down your throat the first time you give me a blow job.”
“Oh. Well, yeah, that’s probably a little much for round one, huh?” I giggle and stand up, wrapping my arms around his waist. He bends for a kiss, and I open for him. His kisses are magical and drugging, and they make me feel like I’m floating.
“Can we shower for real before we go back into the bedroom? I feel like I’d be a little less self-conscious if I knew everything was squeaky clean, if you know what I mean.”
He smiles down at me and chuckles. “I completely understand. Here. Let me.”
Tilting my head back, he rotates it side to side and back and forth until all of my hair is wet enough to shampoo. He spears his fingers through my hair, and the tingles that skate down my spine are enough to make me weak in the knees. His touch is firm and insistent, and he scrubs my scalp in the best possible way.
“Were you a cosmetologist in another life?” I mumble.
He chuckles quietly. “No. I just really like taking care of people.”
“You’re doing a fantastic job, let me just tell you.” My smile is probably very crooked and silly, but he makes me feel so loose. It’s wonderful. I can’t remember the last time I felt so relaxed.
He rinses my hair, but I draw the line at him washing the rest of me. I shoo him to the end of the shower as I take care of the more in-depth parts of showering, and when I finish, I slip out.
“I’ll be the one in your bed, wearing nothing,” I say with a wink.
“I’ll be quick.”
As I walk to his bed and drop the towel on the floor, I marvel at the way I flirt with a man I barely know. I know how to flirt, I know what flirting looks and sounds like, but I’ve never been all that interested in participating in the activity before.
You’re certainly interested now, huh?
I pull the covers back on the bed we rumpled a short while before and slide between the cool sheets. God, there’s nothing like cold sheets in the summertime.
Silence echoes through the room as the shower stops running and I have mere seconds to prepare myself for Carter to come back into the room. I feel like a sixties housewife as I primp and preen and straighten my wet hair as best I can.
Carter doesn’t waste time or energy with a towel around his waist. Hell, he looks like he barely used one, walking towards the bed with beads of water running down his body.
Good God, this man is gorgeous.
The heritage we share — me only on my mom’s side, and his very likely from both — has been very kind to him, lending its typical bronze skin and jet-black hair, and my mind goes all the way back to my middle school years when my babysitter watched old episodes of Saved by the Bell, and I drooled over Mario Lopez.
Carter has a swagger, but there’s very little arrogance. That’s a big part of what’s kept pulling me in all night long. I love confidence, but most men who try to pull it off go too far in the cocky direction. The man in front of me knows exactly who he is and what he’s working with, and he knows I like it.
Surprisingly enough, I’m perfectly fine with that.