Chapter 34
Thirty-Four
Carter
“I have a secret to tell you, Fight Club,” she whispers against my lips.
“Oh yeah? What’s that, baby?”
“Remember last season when you put on that little show for me? It was the first time you told me you were playing the game for me.”
“Mmm-hmm.” I nod.
“The next day, I fantasized about you coming into my office and fucking me right here on this desk.” She nips my bottom lip.
My dick stiffens, and I swallow hard as my eyes cut to her walnut desk.
It’s topped with glass and completely cleaned off, except for a few office supplies and her laptop resting on the other side, and I can’t think of anything better than driving her out of her damn mind on that desk.
I want to give her something to think about every time she walks into this office.
I turn around and close the door, locking it.
“Is that so?” I ask, turning back to her. “I knew you wanted me.”
“I did. I fought like hell to stay away from you. The way you were rotating your hips had me salivating.”
She trails her fingers along my abs and up my chest, causing them to flex under her touch. My lips skim her neck, and I speak low into her ear. “In this fantasy, what would I do?”
“You would come into my office and undress me slowly.”
“Like this?” I ask, slowly lifting her top and peeling it off her.
“Mm-hmm . . .” she moans, nodding her head as I kiss her shoulder. “Yes. Like that.”
“And like this?” I reach behind her and slowly unzip her skirt, letting it fall to the floor.
“Yeah,” she breathes.
I lean back and admire her standing in the thinnest lingerie. “Damn, Kitten. These fucking tits; I could play with them all day,” I say, pulling down her bra and rolling her nipples between my thumb and forefinger.
One hand slides around her back, and with the snap of my fingers, I unhook her bra, letting the thin lace fall to the floor. “Oops. How’d that happen?”
“Wardrobe malfunction, of course,” she says in a husky voice.
“Of course,” I chuckle as I rip the sides of her panties, letting them fall to the ground too.
Standing in just her heels, she looks down at the ripped lace lying on the floor, then steps over them, pouting. “Damn. Another wardrobe malfunction. I really loved those.”
My dick strains uncomfortably against my jeans as my eyes peruse her naked body. I’m a very fucking lucky man. She’s everything.
“Those heels stay on . . .Then what did I do?”
“You laid me on my desk. I was so wet for you.”
I back her up to her desk, then lift her, setting her down on top of the glass. My mouth crashes down on hers, our tongues tangling together. Sliding my hand up to her throat, I break the kiss and gently guide her down until her back rests against the desk. “Are you wet for me, kitten?”
“So wet, Carter. Play with me.”
Those words coming out of her mouth is a beautiful sound.
Fuck.
“I’m about to put your fantasy to shame.”
I spread her wide open and drop to my knees, flattening my tongue against her clit to taste her.
So. Damn. Good. I can’t get enough. I’m fucking addicted to the way she tastes, the sounds coming out of her, the way her body convulses every time I hit a certain spot.
I use my tongue to write my name all over her clit, then I flick, lick, suck, and tease her little bud until she’s writhing, and her pussy is begging for a release.
She bucks into me. “Fuck . . . Carter . . . Oh my god!”
I slide two fingers inside her, massaging her g-spot, and her back comes up off the desk.
“Yes . . . Fuck . . . I’m . . .” Before she can finish her sentence, she screams out as she comes. I lap up every last fucking drop.
Standing, I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.
My eyes catch on the landline phone sitting on the corner of her desk, and a grin tugs at my mouth.
I lean over her body, stretching out my arm.
Lifting the receiver, I cross one of her wrists over the other, then wind the phone cord around them.
There’s a bowl of binding clips next to her phone, so I reach over and slip two out.
Her body is gorgeous, and her tits are .
. . God . . . they’re so fucking perfect; more than a handful with rose colored nipples, hard and pebbled, just begging to be sucked on.
I lean down and take a nipple into my mouth, and swirl my tongue, then I give the peak a light tug with my teeth before moving to the other one.
“Ahh,” she cries out as I clamp the binding clips down onto each of her nipples.
“Damn, look at you. You’re a fucking goddess.”
Grabbing her hips, I pull her body down to the very edge of the desk, then hook my hand under her right leg, lifting it high, my palm sliding along the curve of her calf.
I press my lips to her ankle, trailing slow kisses up the length of her leg until I can drape it over my shoulder.
Those damn heels have me in a choke hold.
Hastily, I undo my jeans and pull myself out, then I drag the head of my cock along her slit, teasing her already sensitive clit with my barbel. I let her feel what she does to me before thrusting into her.
“Fuck!” she gasps, her head tipped back and her eyes squeezed closed.
“Ah,” I sigh, reveling in how fucking good she feels, then I piston my hips, thrusting into her over and over, setting a brutal rhythm, the sound of skin on skin echoing off her office walls. My fingers find one of the clips, and I give it a sharp tug that rips another moan from her.
“Carter, I’m gonna cum.”
“No, you’re not.” I pull out, quickly flipping her over.
Her tits press against the desk, her arms straight out in front of her.
She looks over her shoulder as I grab her hips and pull her closer until her feet touch the floor.
The phone crashes to the ground and I growl in her ear, “You don’t come until I say you can. ”
I grip her hips and slam back into her from behind, her ass bouncing with every thrust. My hand comes down, right over my name, the crack of the slap echoes out around us.
“One day, Kitten . . .” I run my hand down her spine. “I’m going to fuck this ass.”
“Can’t . . . wait,” she pants.
Fucking hell.
I reach around her, sliding my fingers down to her clit. Circling. Pressing. Relentlessly teasing. Every muscle in my body coils tight.
“Come for me, baby.”
A few more thrusts, and her pussy clamps down on my cock.
I see fucking stars.
“River.” Her name spills from my lips as white spots dance behind my eyelids, and I spill inside her.
We stand there, chests heaving, trying to catch our breaths.
“You always fuck me so good, but these damn makeshift nipple clamps hurt.”
Prying one eye open, I spot her removing them, tossing them at the bowl like they’ve personally offended her. I let out a chuckle and slap her on the ass. “Okay. No more binding clips.”
“Eh. They were fun.” She removes the phone cord from around her wrist, looks down at her desk, and groans. “I have to clean this mess up.”
“Go to the ladies’ room and clean yourself up,” I say, zipping up my pants. “I’ll take care of this.”
Her ass sways as she walks over to pick up her clothes, and I can’t help but keep my eyes locked on her as she bends over. She peers over her shoulder, giving me a look like she could go for round two, and I swear to fuck, if she doesn’t put on some clothes, we’re never getting out of here.
Pulling up the eBook I downloaded on my phone, I head toward the bathroom to run a bath for River.
I swipe through the pages on the screen, knowing damn well I saw in one of the early chapters that the water temperature of a bath should be under one hundred degrees.
Ah, there it is ninety-eight degrees. I toss my phone on the counter, then open the medicine cabinet to grab the thermometer.
“What are you doing?”
“Jesus!” I jump, startled, juggling the thermometer between both hands. Ha. Caught it. “Don’t you know not to sneak up on people, woman? I’m running us a bath. Just needed to grab this to make sure the temperature isn’t too hot.”
I hold up the thermometer in my hand. “You can’t have devil baths anymore.”
“Devil baths?”
“Yeah.” I say, looking over my shoulder. “You know when you have the water temperature set to hell? The book says you can’t have hot baths and showers,” I say pointing to my phone.
She walks over to the sink and picks up my phone then begins to swipe through it. “Awe. Look at you . . . Daddy.”
My heart picks up speed, and I turn around. I love the way that sounded. It hasn’t quite hit me yet that I’m a dad. She swipes her finger over the screen while I continue running water over the thermometer.
River sets down my phone and begins to strip.
I peer back over my shoulder, and fuck, I could look at her all day.
I’m excited to see the changes in her body.
Something about the thought of watching her belly grow with my babies makes my heart feel so full.
Babies. That’s another thing that hasn’t quite hit me yet.
She pouts, jutting out her bottom lip. “Wait. No bubbles?”
“Nope. Sorry,” I say, forcing my attention from her back to the water. “You shouldn’t have anything with a lot of perfumes either.”
She groans. “Please don’t be the micromanaging daddy who won’t even let me have one freaking cup of coffee.”
“Now that you can have. I do want to live to see another day, and you without your coffee . . . whew.”
Reaching out, she pinches my side.
“Ow!”
Taking her soft hand in mine, I help her climb into the tub, then turn off the water. I walk over to the door, slide the lighting control down to dim the bathroom lights, then strip out of my clothes and slip in behind her.
She leans her back against my chest, and her fingers tangle with mine. The water begins to cool as the time passes. I can tell something is weighing on her mind. It’s in the way that she hasn’t relaxed at all and the lack of conversation. As she lays against me, her fingers dance over my skin.
“Can I be honest with you about something?” she asks, finally breaking the silence.
Burying my nose in her hair, I inhale her floral scent that always makes me feel like I’m home as I tell her, “I always want you to be honest with me.”
She turns around—the water sloshing around us—and straddles me, wrapping her arms around my neck and laying her head on my shoulder. My fingertips trail down her arm.
“I think . . . I think I’ve been suppressing my fear.
” Running my other hand through her soft hair, I lay my head against hers and listen as she continues.
“I was so tired of the flashbacks, and the nightmares, and checking over my shoulder all the time. And after Jaxon came into our home, I think my brain checked out. I wasn’t thinking clearly. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah.” I nod, her hair tickling my cheek. “It makes perfect sense.”
“And now I’m scared out of my mind, but it’s not that I’m scared for myself as much as . . . well, we have babies to think about. I’m scared for them.”
River’s mental health is important to me.
There’s rational fear and irrational fear.
And after her admission, relief settles over me.
It’s not that I ever wanted her to be scared.
I don’t want that at all. What I want is for her to find balance.
This gives me hope that she’s found that, but she also needs to know that I will do whatever needs to be done to protect her.
Tilting up her chin, I hold her gaze. “I promise that I’ll never allow anything to happen to any of you.”
“You can’t possibly make a promise like that.”
“I can make that promise. While we’re on the topic, I noticed you haven’t been to see your therapist. What’s going on with that?”
“I didn’t feel the need to,” she says, shrugging and fiddling with her fingers. “Why should I when I have you?”
“Because when it comes to you, I can’t be objective. I’m too close to the situation. I think she can help you through whatever this is you’re feeling. Also, I’m not qualified to offer you the help you might need.”
She scoffs and leans back to look at me. “You’ve helped me more than she has.”
I look her in the eyes, and damn it’s going to kill me to ask her this, and it might piss her off, but I have to do it. I’m not throwing this in her face; I just need her to realize that she’s not at a place where leaving therapy is a good idea.
“Who are you, River?”
She looks off to the side, rolling her lips together. Pressing my thumb and forefinger to her chin, I guide her head back so she can look me in the eyes, then I ask her again. “Who are you, baby? Tell me.”
It takes her a few seconds before she shakes her head and admits, “I—I don’t know.”
Every time she says those words, it rips me apart.
The damage that man has done to her is incomprehensible.
There will always be deep scars carried in her heart.
“If you don’t like your therapist, we can find a new one, but with everything that’s going on, I don’t think leaving therapy is the right option. ”
She lays her head back on my shoulder, and I wrap my arms around her. “I want to be normal again,” she whispers so low that I almost don’t catch it.
I kiss her temple. “You are normal. Sometimes we just need a little help, and that’s okay. Will you tell me something that I don’t know about you?”
“I used to write songs. Your turn,” she says, leaning back.
Our eyes lock, and I move an errant hair stuck to her forehead. “I can secretly sing. I only sing off key in front of people.”
“Really?”
“No.” I laugh, shaking my head. “I really can’t sing for shit.”
Her laughter dances on the walls around us.
I sigh. “Hockey isn’t my passion. Don’t get me wrong; I love the game, but it’s not my passion.”
That’s something I’ve never admitted to anyone, not even to myself. But now that it’s out there . . . I know I won’t think about much of anything else until I decide what it means for me. For us. For our future.