Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Liz hadn’t felt this combination of nervous excitement since she’d nearly gotten caught sneaking in well past curfew after prom their senior year. She kept darting glances down the stairs as she slowly ascended them beside Carson.
“You’re making me nervous.”
Another glance over her shoulder. “Shhh. Can’t you go any faster?”
“Desperate to get me in bed, huh?” Carson paused and shot her a smug grin.
“What? No.” Shit. That was entirely too loud. And a lie. “Okay, maybe. But I’m more worried about running into Clem.”
“Because you’re embarrassed by me?”
“No. Because I don’t need her telling me ‘I told you so.’” She nudged him to start moving again. “And maybe I’m embarrassed by you a little, but only when you hum like a dying cow.”
“I’ll show you a dying cow.”
“Please don’t.”
At the top of the steps, she waited for him to regain his footing. “That looked painful.”
“That was actually a lot better. Took me twice as long right after it happened.”
Liz winced. “Yikes.”
“Yeah. Note to self—groin strains are not nearly as sexy as one might think.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
Liz wasn’t sure where her sudden burst of confidence had come from.
First at Etta May’s, where she’d practically mauled him to death, and then in the car outside, where she’d invited herself in.
The only thing she could figure was that lust finally short-circuited her brain to the point that she had no control over her body or her mouth, and she acted on sheer impulse.
A gamble, for sure, but one that seemed to be paying off.
“This is me,” he said, stopping in front of the Sunshine Suite. He unlocked the door and crutched inside. “Last chance to get out while you still can.”
Liz paused outside the doorway. Quickly weighed her options—turn tail and run back to safety, or step forward and take a chance.
She stepped forward.
Into Carson. Lightly ran her fingers over his chest, then stood on her tiptoes and placed a gentle kiss to one side of his mouth. Then the other. Then his neck.
She heard a thump as Carson let his crutches fall and felt him shift his weight onto her. “Is this okay?” he asked.
“More than okay,” she breathed. The feel of his arms around her made her feel safe. Small. Like she wanted to nestle in them forever.
The possessiveness of his mouth on hers made her want to submit. Made her want to spend a lifetime exploring. Tasting. Teasing.
And his hands. Running through her hair. Sending shivers of excitement in their wake. Making her want them in other places. Places that were covered by entirely too many layers of clothes.
“On the bed,” she managed to say between lip-locks.
“Bossy,” he murmured, lightly nipping her lip.
“I’ll show you bossy,” she said, nipping him in return. She closed and locked the door, then turned back to him. “Strip.”
“Okay.” Carson raised an eyebrow. “But I’m going to need some help.”
“Happy to help.” Liz shucked her coat while he shucked his, swatting his hands away when he started to unbutton his shirt. “Please, allow me.”
“I was talking about my pants,” Carson said.
“Yeah, well, beggars can’t be choosers.” She guided them to his bed and eased him down onto it. “Lay down.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He winced as he worked to get his leg up, relaxing a bit when Liz took some of its weight, lifting it the rest of the way onto the bed. “Thanks.”
“Are you good?” Liz asked after he scooched further back.
“I’ll be better without all the clothes between us, but yeah.”
That made two of them.
Taking care not to knee him in his injured thigh again, Liz straddled his waist. Felt nervous excitement bubble up as hunger flashed in his eyes.
Got another excited shiver when he placed his hands on her legs.
Momentarily lost track of her attempt at seduction when his hands wandered up and made contact with her stomach.
Good. So good. Especially when his fingers curled over her waistband and worked their way lower. Stroking. Teasing.
His chuckle brought her back to the present moment. Dammit. How was he able to make her brain cells evaporate like that with only a touch?
Why did they still have so many clothes between them?
“Stop it.”
“Stop what?” His hands stilled as his expression turned serious.
“Distracting me.”
“Oh.” Amusement softened his features again. “And here I thought you could multi-task.”
Gah. This man. So annoyingly charming.
Determination renewed, Liz set her sights on her goal—a naked Carson.
She took great pleasure in the way his eyes darkened when she ran her hands underneath his shirt. Let her fingers dance along his ribs. She tried to keep on task when she felt his fingers doing the same to her.
But God, did he make things difficult. She wanted nothing more than to relax into his feather-light touches. To let them wander. See where they went. Curl up and allow herself to become a passenger in wherever the journey led.
It wasn’t until he was tugging her shirt over her head that she realized how much of a failure she really was.
The grin on his face said he knew exactly what he was doing. “I’m in the lead, FYI.”
Crap. How the hell had that happened?
She knew how it had happened. He was a sneaky cheater, that was how.
“Alright, that’s it,” she growled.
“Did you just growl?”
Had she? Maybe. All she knew was that she had a job to do, and dammit, she was going to get it done.
Leaning forward, she worked her way down his shirt, teasing the area around each button as she unbuttoned. She couldn’t help it. Some part of her knew she was losing, but her fingers had other ideas.
Apparently, so did his. Strong fingers stroked her back, while soft kisses peppered her front. Along her neck. Between her breasts. Grazed along the tops.
If she wasn’t careful, he’d pop her bra off, and she’d be down two-to-one.
With doubled-down determination, she stripped him of his shirt and turned immediately to his pants. Desperate fingers unbuttoned his jeans.
“Careful,” Carson breathed. “Don’t need any more injuries down there.”
Right. As much as she wanted to beat him at his own game, she also wanted to finish it. Not send him to the hospital.
They worked together to get him out of his pants, and Liz sucked in a breath when she got a good view of his leg. Not only because of the sight of Carson in boxer briefs. Yellow-green colored the visible portion of his upper thigh with purplish blue edging below it.
Carson followed her gaze. “Believe it or not, this is better, too.”
God. No wonder he was taking it slow. Probably hurt like hell.
She carefully extracted herself, biting back a grin when he scowled. “Get back here.”
“Hold your horses.” She kept her eyes locked on his while she oh so slowly shimmied out of her jeans. Felt the heat on her cheeks as his eyes raked her from top to bottom. Felt the fluttering in her stomach and the knock of her heart against her ribs. Felt the desire building in the air.
“Where’s Bea’s cream?” she finally asked.
“Over there.” Carson pointed at the table on the other side of the bed.
Retrieving the jar, Liz kneeled beside him.
“You can come closer, you know.”
“Not until I’m done here.” Not only did this give her a better angle for her task, but it gave her a better chance of completing it. “Now, lay back and relax.”
Hands crossed behind him, Carson laid back on the pillow.
God, he looked good. Definitely better than she remembered.
Not just because he’d filled out. The handful of salt and pepper at his temples spoke to maturity.
Wisdom. The faint creases that lingered between his eyebrows spoke to determination.
And the slight laugh lines at the angles of his mouth hinted at his lighter side.
The side of him she’d missed most of all.
A side she suspected he’d been missing as well.
Brushing aside the potentially heavy thought, Liz focused back on the task at hand. Gently pulled up the leg of his boxer briefs to allow her full access to his bruise. Dipped into the Bruise Balm and gently applied the white, lavender-scented cream to the lowest portion.
Carson let out the softest of groans.
Her fingers stilled. “Is that okay?”
“Yeah. That was a good groan, in case you couldn’t tell.”
“Okay. Good to know.” Liz resumed her action, letting her fingers trace the edges of the bruise. Then worked her way up. She felt Carson tense when she hit mid-thigh. “Is it worse here?”
“No.”
She shook her head. “You know you’re not convincing.” Not if the terseness of his answer or the quiver in his leg and abs were anything to go by.
“Believe me,” Carson said, locking his eyes with hers. “The leg is definitely not the issue here.”
Liz’s eyes flicked to where Carson’s issue was becoming apparent. “It doesn’t hurt, does it?” Liz licked her lips. Hoped he said no. Wondered what she’d do if he said yes.
“There? No.” He looked horrified at the thought. “Only when I move my leg.” He winced as he shifted to the side.
“Well, then, I guess we have our answer.”
“I didn’t know there was a question.”
Liz leaned forward and placed a hand on his chest, gently pushing him back down. “There isn’t. Because all you have to do is relax. I’ll take care of the rest.”
She’d never looked forward to taking charge of something so much in her life.