Chapter 23 #5
"Alex has had a long day," Carrie replied smoothly, sliding out of the booth and pulling me with her.
I stumbled, my legs feeling like they were made of fucking overcooked noodles.
She caught me by the waist, her grip firm and steadying.
"And I have a busy morning ahead of me. It was a pleasure meeting you both. "
I was standing there, fucking dazed, the world feeling like it was tilted ten degrees to the left.
"Bye, Mia," I mumbled, leaning in for a clumsy hug. I could smell the wine on her and the lingering scent of Carrie’s whiskey on myself. "Night, Adrian."
"See ya, Lex! Good to meet you, Caroline!" Adrian called out, raising his pint.
Carrie didn't wait for a second round of goodbyes.
She kept her hand firmly on the small of my back, steering me through the crowd toward the exit.
I was barely conscious of my own feet moving.
The transition from the intense, private heat of the booth to the cold, damp air of the street was jarring. My legs were fucking freezing.
The car was already there, the driver holding the door open.
I needed to make a mental note of asking her about this random fucking driver.
Carrie practically poured me into the back seat before sliding in beside me.
As the door shut, cutting off the thudding music of Carlos, the silence was deafening.
I leaned my head back against the leather, my eyes closed, my heart still trying to find a normal rhythm.
"You did very well, Alex," Carrie murmured, her voice returning to that dark, intimate purr. “Such a good girl."
She leaned over me, clicking my seatbelt into place because I’d clearly lost all fucking motor function.
The mix of alcohol, the orgasm, and the adrenaline had made me useless, and I happily let her take over.
She pulled me into her side, wrapping an arm protectively around me as the driver pulled away.
She pressed a soft kiss into my hair. "Are you okay, darling?”
I forced myself to turn to her, my hand finding her cheek. I pulled her down for a kiss, something deep and lingering. I’d wanted to do this for the last hour. When we pulled back, I nestled into her side, my head tucked into the crook of her neck.
I pressed a soft kiss to her skin and whispered, “I'm okay."
The silence of the car was a physical weight, pressing in on us and amplifying the steady, rhythmic hum of the engine.
After the chaotic noise of Carlos, the quiet felt almost sacred.
We stayed locked together, my body moulded against hers as the city lights flickered past the tinted windows like a dream I wasn’t quite ready to wake up from.
I could still feel the ghost of her touch, the lingering heat between my legs, and the way my heart was struggling to settle back into its proper rhythm.
My mind was a tangled mess of "before" and "after.
" I tried to process what had just happened—the sheer audacity of it, the risk, the way she had dismantled me in a room full of people—but my brain felt sluggish, heavy with the aftershocks of the night.
But beneath the confusion, there was one thing that felt startlingly clear.
I felt safe.
It was a terrifying realisation. I’d spent my whole life keeping people at arm’s length, priding myself on being the one who never gets attached, never lets anyone in deep enough to see the cracks.
And yet, here I was, tucked into the side of a woman who was essentially a professional predator, feeling more secure than I ever had in my own bedroom.
I shifted slightly, my cheek pressing against the cool silk of her dress, and I realised with a jolt of pure, unadulterated fear that I would let her do anything.
If she told me to stay, I’d stay. If she told me to move, I’d move.
It wasn't just about the sex or the thrill; it was the fact that I trusted her to catch me. I’d never surrendered like this. I’d never wanted to be seen like this.
Carrie seemed to sense the shift in my energy. She didn't pull away; instead, her grip on me tightened just a fraction, her hand rubbing slow, soothing circles into my arm. It was a silent acknowledgment of the vulnerability I was radiating.
"You're very quiet, Alex," she murmured, her voice a low vibration against my temple.
"Just thinking," I whispered, my hand curling into the fabric of her dress.
"And what does that dangerous mind of yours have to say for itself?"
I looked up at her, catching the way the passing streetlights caught the sharp angle of her jaw and the dark, intelligent depths of her eyes. "That I've never felt like this before. And it’s fucking terrifying."
Carrie didn't offer a platitude. She didn't tell me not to be scared. Instead, she leaned down and pressed a firm, lingering kiss to my forehead—a gesture so tender it made my throat ache.
"I know, darling," she said softly. "But you're with me now. And I don't intend on letting you go anywhere."
As the car turned onto the familiar, leafy streets leading toward her home, I closed my eyes and let the last of my defences crumble.
I didn't know where this was going, and for the first time in my life, I didn't care.
As long as she was the one holding the map, I was willing to go wherever she led me.