Chapter 26 Donovan
Alone at last. I had to go pretty heavy on the hints to get my friends to leave, and now here we are, just me and her in the living room. Carrie is leaning against the back of the couch, and I’m tempted to try the ironing board move on her again.
“So, word has it there’s a surprise in my room,” I start. Subtle, man.
“Yeah, that was a lie—there is no gift. I just said that so the others would think I’m a nice person.”
“You’re not fooling anyone, you know.”
“Really?” She pulls a sad face. “All that hard work, for nothing. I thought I made a good impression on your sister, though.”
“Well, other than the part where you blackmailed her, I’d say she loves you. It’s a Wolinski thing.”
“I saw you guys talking. How’d it go?”
I shrug. “Pretty well, I think. We still have a lot to talk through, but it’s a good start—that’s all I wanted.”
“I’m happy for you.”
“I know I still need to prove myself, but there’s light at the end of the tunnel now.”
She smiles. “All that’s left to do is get yourself a girlfriend.”
“Easier said than done.”
All you have to do is say the word.
I jerk my head toward the hallway. “Coming?”
“Where?” she asks, cocking an eyebrow.
“To give me the gift you’ve got stashed away in your bag.”
“You went through my stuff?”
I shoot her an affronted look. “It kinda spilled out when I dumped it on my desk. Which reminds me—why do you have, like, fifteen pens in one tiny bag?”
“They make the best self-defense kit. If you aim right, you can do some serious damage with those suckers.”
“This I need to see.” I smile.
I hold out a hand and she slips her fingers between mine as I lead her into the bedroom.
We both know the gift is just a lame pretext to get her in my room, but it’s ramping up the energy nicely.
There’s this tension between us that’s been there all night—I’ve been maxing it out, and she’s been responding, despite herself.
I shut the door behind us and watch as she crosses the room. I like having her here—especially when my mind drifts to what’s about to happen next. I’ve played this scene in my head a hundred times, and the idea alone is almost as good as pinning her against a wall. Almost.
“What the hell?”
She lingers over the gift my buddies gave me, scooping up one of my bras and letting it dangle from a finger.
“Courtesy of the Campus Drivers.”
“Why did they…” She shakes her head. “You know what? I don’t want to know. Good choice on the color, though. I’m guessing it suits you.”
“You think? Want me to try it on for you?”
“I’m good, thanks. You can do that once I’ve left—send me a selfie, like last time.”
“Your order is my command.”
She laughs, draping the lingerie over my chair, and starts rooting in her bag.
“My turn.” She pulls out the slender square box I spotted earlier. “Looks like you’re getting spoiled this birthday.”
“Now I’m curious.”
I peel off the tape and rip the paper away, my heart falling as I slide off the lid.
“A bow tie?”
“Yup.”
Okay… Plot twist…
“Do you like it?”
Luckily, I’m an expert at putting on a brave face.
“I love it! I’ve always dreamed of having one of these to… Well, you know—to wear.” I beam at her. “I’ve been secretly wanting one for years. How’d you guess?”
I yank on the elastic and slip it over my head, feeling it snap against my neck, tugging it into place and smiling back at Carrie. She’s happy with her gift, I can tell. I glance over her shoulder and catch sight of myself in the mirror. I look like a dumbass, and she’s loving every second.
“Fits you like a glove! You know, ever since we met, I’ve been thinking something was missing—now I know.”
“I’m obsessed with it. This is definitely going to get heads turning.”
“Definitely.” She nods. “You look like a total heartthrob.”
I strike a pose. “You like?”
She shakes her head. “The truth is, you look damn good in a tie—but this thing makes you look like a clown, which is exactly what I was going for.”
I stare at her, mouth opened. The girl’s pure evil.
“Your gift sucks.” I shake my head. “I want another one.”
“Sorry, that’s all I’ve got.”
“I’m sure you can think of something.”
She taps a finger on her chin absentmindedly.
“Something that involves stripping, maybe?” I try.
I know she wants me, too—I felt it every time our eyes met, every time I touched her—but I’m waiting for her answer before making a move. I don’t even know how I’m holding myself back while she’s standing there next to my bed, in that dress, with that mouth.
“I’m tempted,” she starts, “but I don’t think I can bring myself to sleep with a guy in a bow tie.”
“I wasn’t thinking of sex, you pervert!” I roll my eyes at her. “I want your bra. I’m starting quite the collection over here.”
What I want is to go straight to her, kiss her hard, and throw her back onto the bed. But this game between us—she’s enjoying it as much as I am. I know she is.
“Oh, I get it now. Sorry…”
“You look disappointed. I didn’t mean to embarrass you—”
“You didn’t! It’s just awkward because I’m not actually wearing one.”
I swallow the wrong way. I was hoping to tease her—but she just knocked me out with that one.
I step forward, slipping off my bow tie.
“Problem solved, then,” I whisper, letting every trace of playfulness fall from my face. “Now you have no excuse to hold out on my real gift.”
Say yes.
“Why don’t you come get it?”
A predatory smile curls on my lips, answering hers. Our eyes lock, the air between us thickening with so much desire I almost stumble circling around her.
Every inch of me is aching for her as I step behind her.
I brush kisses down the length of her neck, behind her ear, on her collarbone, slowly sliding out the hair tie holding her bun.
She shakes her curls loose, and I know I’m done for.
That fucking hair. Inch by inch, I slide her dress up over her hips.
I’m legit trembling from the tension. Her breath is coming hard as she leans back and into me, pressing her body into mine, following each of my movements.
I’ve waited so long for this moment I can barely control my hands as I roll her tights down to her ankles. Her fucking legs knock the breath out of me.
I fall to my knees beneath her, my gaze fixed on the perfect curve of her ass. She moans when I palm it with both hands, kneading gently, and I press soft kisses to the two infuriating little dimples gracing her lower back. I can barely see straight.
“Carrie.”
She murmurs in response.
“I can’t believe you wore such a hot dress with these,” I say.
She throws her head back, the ends of her hair grazing my face.
“I chose my best granny panties in honor of your birthday.”
She’s messing with me, but her voice is husky and thin. I grab the fabric in both hands and make to tear them in two. No luck. I try again.
“How the hell do the guys in the books rip these things off?” I growl.
“I guess they’re just really strong.”
“So, not only are they ugly—they’re indestructible, too.”
“You trash-talk my panties one more time, and I’m leaving.”
“No you won’t.”
I inch her underwear down and get to my feet, my chest pressed into her back, my hands feeling their way down her curves.
She’s always kept her clothes on before, and I’m too scared to undress her now and ruin this moment.
Instead, I sweep her hair to one side and run my tongue down her neck, clasping her hips.
She shivers in my hands when I move down to her lower belly, my fingers reaching for where I know she wants me to touch her most. I missed this.
I want the heat of her mouth on mine, but I force myself to take it slow—kissing my way along her jaw, up her cheek and temple, matching the slow, lazy drag of my fingers between her legs. I missed her.
She bucks against my hand and I lean deeper into her, keeping the pressure of her ass on my cock, gently dragging my fingers between her slick, feeling her hot and soaking against my hand.
And when she moans into the empty room, I plunge my fingers inside her.
She immediately clenches around me, and I almost fall to my knees again.
I’m so gone it’s not even funny.
“Still thinking of leaving?” I murmur.
“You always have to come out on top, don’t you?”
“I definitely want to be on top of you, yeah.”
She spins around to face me. “What if I want to be?”
She yanks at my belt and drops my pants to my ankles. She pushes me back so hard I fall onto the bed.
Hands on her hips, brow raised, she tries to look in control. It would work—if her cheeks weren’t scarlet and her pupils weren’t blown with heat.
“If you weren’t so hot, I’d be terrified.”
Her gaze trails down to my hard-on. Up again. She’s staring me straight in the eye.
The atmosphere between us is so charged right now, but I force myself to wait it out—I want to see her give in. I need it. Come on, Carrie. I can’t take this anymore.
She inches up her dress, flashing her fucking thighs as she walks to me, and my breath catches in my throat when she straddles me without hesitation. The only thing separating us are my straining boxers. I want them and that damn dress gone so I can feel her completely, touch all of her.
Settling deeper into my lap, I can feel how wet and warm she is.
She gathers up her hair. An invitation. Fuck.
My fingers work her zipper, easing it down the length of her spine the way I’ve been picturing all afternoon.
I stare at her half-parted lips, desperate to taste them, tracing my fingers along her hips, grazing the top of her ass.
She wasn’t lying—she isn’t wearing a bra. If she moves her arms now, the dress will fall down, and there would finally be nothing between us. I want her to strip for me.
What she does next is just as good, though. She tilts her head to the side and releases her mane, grabbing my shoulders with both hands and grinding into me. I feel myself harden against her. She rests her chin on my collarbone and carries on writhing against my dick, and I bite back a growl.