Текст книги "Blind Date "
Автор книги: Emma Hart
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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 10 страниц)
My skin burns wherever he touches me. It’s like every fingerprint he leaves behind is a flaming ring of fire that brands me. His mouth is the same. The teasing trail of kisses he peppers down my stomach as he leans back onto his knees has me writhing beneath him.
As his hands travel down, his fingers loop in the sides of my underwear and slide them down my legs. I bend my knees, and his grasp from panties to thighs is immediate. He wraps his arms around my thighs, holding my legs wide open, and yanks me down the bed.
His mouth is on me before I’ve had a chance to gasp, and holy fuck, yes, his mouth is on me.
His wicked tongue works my clit. Flicking and circling and rubbing with each kiss he covers my pussy with. I can’t stand the assault he’s unleashing on me, and I go from my hands in my hair, to grasping sheets, to winding my fingers in his hair. The only sound in the room is of my heavy breathing, interspersed with my helpless moans.
It feels so good.
He lets me go as abruptly as he took hold of me and stands. I run my fingers through my hair, my chest heaving. I manage to look down in time to see him stepping out of his pants and boxers and leaning over. The sound of a drawer opening and closing breaks through my breaths, and Carter leans over me, a shiny foil packet in his hand.
His eyes are bright, but there’s a darkness hinting in their depths. It intrigues me and excites me at the same time, especially when he rips the condom packet open with his teeth. His gaze never falters as he spits the corner of the packet out to the side and pulls out the rubber inside. He stands, and I bite down on the inside of my cheek as he takes his long, hard cock and rolls the condom over it.
There is something stupidly sexy about watching a man touch himself, even if he’s just putting on protection.
In fact. That is the fucking sexy part.
He scoops one arm behind my knee as he falls back down, bending my leg right up. My thigh is as flat against my stomach as it can go, and he lifts my butt, leaning over me until his cock brushes my wet pussy. “Believe me now?” he rasps into my ear. He slides his hand into my hair and cups the back of my head. “Did I lick your pussy enthusiastically enough for you, baby?”
I nod and push my hips down as far onto his cock as I can. His low, devilish chuckle makes me tremble even harder.
I know it’s coming, but I still cry out anyway.
My pussy aches as it stretches to accommodate his large cock, and I grasp desperately at his back and shoulders as he waits it out. “God,” I whisper.
“Not my name but I’ll take it,” he laughs quietly, tightening his grasp on my leg. “Fuck, Bee.” He eases out of me and back in again. “I fucking love your pussy.”
Fuck yeah, I like her right now, too.
He pulls my face up and kisses me and picks up the pace of his thrusts. Heat swamps me as the teasing of his tongue and the deep strokes of his cock inside me combine together in a deadly hit that feels like it should be some kind of a dream.
Each kiss gets harder.
Each moan louder.
Each thrust deeper.
I’m spiraling out of control as we move together. I don’t even know if I am moving. I think it’s all him. I think it’s just Carter, pounding into me, tilting my hips up and down and sideways and arching my back and nipping my lower lip and chuckling into my ear. I think he’s doing everything, but that’s because all I know is him.
All I can see, smell, taste, feel, hear… It’s him. Just him.
He releases me, pulling out of me, and flips me onto my front with no effort at all. I reach around the back of my neck and sweep my hair to one side so I can look at him.
With a wickedly sexy grin on his face, he pushes me onto my knees, then slaps one hand across my ass. I flinch as the sweet sting travels across my skin and prop myself onto my elbows.
He wastes no time spreading my ass cheeks and pushing his cock back into my pussy. He’s deeper here, and I bury my face in the covers as my body convulses with pleasure. I feel him, rather than see him, as he leans fully forward. His hot breath skitters across my ear as he says, “Do I want you enough now, Bee?”
I nod. Yes. I feel it. I believe it.
Now I want all of it.
I clench my pussy around him. He hisses out a long breath and straightens again. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He slaps my ass right before he slams into me and a breathy moan falls from my lips.
Those are the last words he says as he focuses on drawing every last bit of pleasure from me.
And draw it he does.
My orgasm barrels into me, an impossibly strong force, and I surrender to it.
I barely register Carter’s as my own consumes me. He buries himself inside me, his words and groans nothing but murmurs to me as my blood thunders through my ears.
We roll to the side, and I push my hair from my face to breathe clearly. He settles his arm over my waist as he catches his breath, then props himself up on his elbow. “You didn’t have another appointment this afternoon, did you?” he asks me, amused.
“Nope… But I am supposed to be at the restaurant again,” I respond, smiling back at him.
“I’m pretty sure your client won’t mind.” He cups my chin and kisses me softly. “Wait here.” He pulls out of me and removes the condom, then disappears into the bathroom to the side of the room.
A chill skates across my skin now he isn’t here, and my stomach ties itself into a knot.
Wait here? Like this? Naked on his bed like he’s going to draw me like a fucking French girl? Uh, no. That’s not how this works.
Hell, nothing is working like any of it is supposed to at this point.
I sit up and grab the covers, pulling them back and over me. It chases away the slight coldness and makes me feel a bit more… appropriate, let’s say.
Sure, Bee. You just came all over your client’s cock, in his bed, but let’s think about appropriateness now.
Shit.
Carter comes out of the bathroom and throws me a towel. He’s walking around with absolutely nothing on, his cock still semi-hard, but that doesn’t seem to faze him as he pulls open a drawer to his dresser and removes some underwear.
I clean up awkwardly as he puts his boxers on, then I reach forward and grab my panties. My unwearable panties.
He turns and his eyes drop to the underwear I’m holding. “Ah.”
“There’s, uh… A spare pair in my purse.”
His eyes snap up to mine, dancing with laughter. “There is, is there?”
I lift a shoulder. “You told me to bring spare panties. What can I say? Sometimes I do as I’m told.” Especially when there’s a chance it could benefit me.
He winks and heads out of the room. I watch, unashamedly, as he walks away. I mean, come on. I pretty much just screamed whatever shame I had left right on out of my body.
And talking of shame…
The real shame should be that I haven’t done what I was supposed to do when I came here. Shit. Fuck. I just let him seduce me and get under my skin even more than he already is. Now I’m afraid he’s kind of stuck there.
He is, isn’t he?
Oh, God. Of all the people to get stuck under my skin, it had to be him.
Talking of him… He comes back into his room, holding my purse. I crack a smile at seeing this handsome, six-foot something, ripped as hell man wearing black and white boxer briefs, carrying a bright red Michael Kors purse.
“My color?” he questions, swinging it over his shoulder and pouting.
A laugh bursts out of me.
This cannot be real.
“You didn’t have to bring the whole thing,” I tell him, taking it and setting it on my lap. I locate my panties fairly quickly.
“You never go in a ladies’ purse,” Carter laughs quietly. “I told you—I was raised a gentleman. And that includes the spanking.”
I want to roll my eyes, but what I actually do is run my tongue over my teeth. I grab my bra and get dressed, locating my blouse on the floor at the end of the bed. I slip my arms in and my fingers are poised to do up the first button when Carter approaches me.
He crooks two fingers beneath my chin and gently tilts my head up. His eyes are like an amazing emerald beacon, and my gaze is drawn to them instantly. “No snarky comeback? No smart-mouthed dig?”
I open my mouth to respond, but settle for shaking my head.
“What’s wrong?”
My teeth graze over my bottom lip. “You told my mom about us.”
He stills. “Was that the reason for this urgent meeting?”
“Yes. I’m… well, I was mad at you. I think you successfully fucked that right out of me.” I step away from him and do up two of my buttons before turning back to him and resting my hands on my hips. “Why would you do that?” He holds his hands up, but before he can say a word, I carry on. “Do you have any idea how fucking embarrassed I was when she told me? I’ve barely spoken to her for three days, Carter! Fucking hell—I may be a grown woman and able to make my own choices and mistakes, but I never once felt the need to bring what happened between us two weeks ago into your business decision!”
“Mistake?” he growls. He stalks toward me and grasps my chin, his eyes blazing down at me. “First things first. Did that feel like a fucking mistake to you, Bee? ‘Cause it sure as hell didn’t to me.”
I lick my lips in lieu of an answer.
First time was a mistake. The second? Totally deliberate.
“And second, I didn’t tell your mom a damn thing. I told her we knew each other through a mutual friend, and that was the mistake. She assumed—correctly—that we had a closer relationship than I was letting on, because why else would I tell her?”
“That is an excellent question,” I grind out, knocking his arm back.
“For you,” he says, taking the hand that just hit him. “Because even that night, I knew you were a feisty little thing. I wanted your mom to know that the only reason I hired you is because I couldn’t not, because you’re that goddamn fucking good at your job that there was never another option for a designer. I didn’t want her to find out somehow, someday, that you and I had been together and think that was the reason I hired you. I didn’t want anyone to find out and think of that, because you’re too damn good to be looked at as a pity case, Bee Donnelly.”
I take a deep breath in at those words. My throat is dry, and I lick my lips yet again in an attempt to create some saliva. “You didn’t need to hire me. Someone else could—”
“Not have done that design. You just… saw it. The others were good, don’t think I’m discrediting them. They were real fucking good, but they weren’t yours. Somehow you took what I envisioned and put it on paper without even asking me. How? I don’t know. I don’t want to know. I just know that in that moment nothing mattered more than it being abundantly clear that your skills as a designer were why I hired you.”
“Okay,” I say quietly. “Thank you. For doing that.”
He rubs his thumb over my pulse point, and with his other hand, brushes the back of his fingertips over my cheek. “You’re very welcome.”
I nod and avert my gaze. “What do we do now? I mean… What is this, Carter? What just happened?”
He inhales sharply and dips his face down to mine. My eyes flutter shut as our noses touch. “I don’t know, baby,” he rumbles. “But I like it. And I wanna keep it if you do.”
Do I? Want to keep this? “Keep it for what?”
“Trust me when I say I would have found you even if that Monday morning meeting wasn’t rescheduled with you. You intrigued me enough. There’re only a days left of the renovations. Spend that time with me. Let’s see where it goes.”
“In four days?”
He raises his eyebrows. “Cinderella fell in love in one night. We could be married in four days.”
I jerk back and stare at him. “I seriously hope you’re kidding right now.”
He looks at me, stony faced, and just when I’m about to tell him exactly what I think of that bullshit idea, he bursts out laughing and pulls me against him. “You bet your hot ass I’m fucking kidding. Marriage.” He shudders.
“Good to see we still agree on something,” I mutter as he lets me go. “Uh, Carter?”
“What?”
“You know we can’t tell anyone we’re spending time together… right? My mom is kind of trusting me not to do what just happened while you’re still technically a client.”
He rests a forearm on the dresser and meets my eyes across the room. “Thought you said you were good at doing what you were told.”
I pick up my skirt and smile sweetly.
He shakes his head and turns away.
Whoopsie.
Chapter Twelve
The walls are done. The floors are done. The bar area is almost complete.
It’s starting to resemble something that doesn’t look like a hurricane whipped through it.
I walk to the bar and grip the plastic surrounding the glass top, then tug. The creaks of it as I pull the coating away are oddly satisfying.
“So… what does that mean, exactly?” Charley asks, walking to the other side of the bar. “You’ll ‘see where it goes?’”
I shrug. “I’m kinda hoping it’ll end up in bed, and that’s about it.”
“So why agree?” She catches a bit of plastic that’s still stuck to the bar with her nail and peels it off. “Why don’t you just be fuck buddies?”
I don’t answer. Honestly, I don’t really have an answer. All I know is that, yesterday, in his room, in his house, after those deep conversations and sex, something made me agree. In fact, it barely crossed my mind not to agree.
Apparently I can be swayed by books and dirty, glorious sex.
Could be worse, I guess.
“You like him, don’t you?” Charley asks, stopping.
I swat at her hand so she doesn’t get the top of the bar covered in fingerprints. In hindsight, maybe leaving the plastic cover on was the better choice. “He’s very charming.”
“Charming? What are you? A romance heroine from the nineteenth century? Fuck!” She laughs, flicking her hair over her shoulder. “Charming my ass!”
“Fine!” I turn to her. “Yes, I like him, all right? He’s fucking infuriating, but he makes me feel good. I’m learning more about him and he’s not that much of a bad guy.”
“Still think blind dates are a dumb idea?”
I glare at her.
She laughs. “He doesn’t happen to have a brother, does he?”
“No, just a sister.” I laugh back. “But I’m pretty sure she doesn’t swing that way, and I know you sure as hell don’t.”
“Depends. For the right price I could.”
“That’s called porn.” I snort and reach behind me for my purse. “I’m so ready for this to be done. It’s so close now.”
“What’s left?” she asks, looking around. “Just furniture?”
“And a few other bits the builders are installing this afternoon. The restrooms are done apart from fresh flowers and a new mirror.”
“You’re getting antsy for something new, aren’t you?” She smiles knowingly. “And perhaps knowing that you can spend time with your client when he isn’t your client?” Her eyebrows waggle suggestively.
“That has nothing to do with it.” Mostly nothing to do with it. “But, yeah. I’m dying for something new. Ten days feels like an age. This is why I stick to houses, mostly. Rooms don’t take that long to redo.”
“Well, you said yourself the dining room could do with some work.” Carter’s voice rumbles across the restaurant, and I look up to see him standing in the doorway between the bar and the restaurant. “Do you have a moment?”
“Sure.” I turn to Charley. “I’ll call you later?”
Her eyes flick between us. “Mhmm.” She grabs her own purse from her feet and looks at Carter. “Nice to see you again, Carter.”
“And you, Charley.” The smile on his face reeks of amusement, and I wonder if he’s trying to contain his laughter.
Charley gives me an ‘ooh la la’ kind of look, with her lips pouting and her eyebrows arched. I roll my eyes, smiling myself.
My best friend is bonafide crazy.
The door to the restaurant shuts, and Carter pushes off from the doorframe. “It looks good in here. Really good. I love the bar.”
“It’s my favorite part, too,” I agree, running my finger along the rounded edge of it. “Looks much classier than that old thing you had in here before.”
“You wound me,” he teases, his hand flattened against his chest with mock drama. “Will you be here much now?”
“Most of the time.” I drop my hand from the bar and meet his eyes. “I need to make sure the builders install everything correctly, and then the furniture will be here tomorrow. And trust me when I say I’m the one that needs to make sure that all goes in the right places.”
“Really? I can’t imagine why.” His tone is dry, but laughter flickers in his gaze. “Do you need any help?”
“With what? The furniture? I guess.”
“Good. Because my sister wants to come and see the restaurant… and meet you.”
“Well, this went from blind date to what the fuck real quickly.”
He pauses, then laughs deeply. “I’m choosing to go with her reasoning being you’re the designer.”
“Damn. You’re better at this than me.”
“I’ve had more time to practice. I’m older than you are.”
“You make it sound like we’re playing baseball or something.”
“We kind of are,” Carter rumbles, rounding the side of the bar and coming to me. He softly brushes some loose hairs from my face with his fingers. “All I know is that I want you, Bee. That’s it.”
My tongue darts out across my lower lip. “Do you think that’s enough?”
“Dunno.” He leans into me and brushes his lips across my jaw. “Is it for you?” He flicks his tongue against the tender spot beneath my ear.
I inhale sharply. Could want be enough—just want by itself?
I don’t know, but it’s a damn good start, isn’t it?
“I think so,” I breathe, my fingers brushing against his white shirt.
He pulls back and moves in to kiss me, but the moment is broken by the sound of his phone ringing from his pocket. He stills, sighs, then steps back. I laugh quietly and grab the folder containing my plans.
“Hello… Already?... Jesus, Izzy… I know that, but I thought you were coming tomorrow… I didn’t say that, did that?... So sue me… All right, all right. I hear you… Yes, Izzy…. I said all right.” He rubs his hand across his forehead and blows out a long breath. “I’ll see you soon.” He hangs up and slips his phone into his pocket, fixing me with a grim look.
“What’s up?” I ask, glancing up at him.
“Remember how I said my sister would be stopping by?”
“Yes…”
“She’ll be here in five minutes.”
***
This really has escalated kind of quickly.
It was one thing to know that she might stop by before he left for California, when Carter was nothing more than a bit of a mistake and a temptation to be overcome. Now, though…
God, sex changes everything, doesn’t it?
It’s a miracle I’ve used it so casually for so long. It’s never made a difference to my life or affected me until Carter.
Maybe it isn’t so much that sex changes everything.
Maybe he’s the person who’s changed everything. A chance meeting that lead to another, and eventually to where we are right now.
The worst part is that I don’t know if I’d change it. I can’t think of a scenario in which the last two or so weeks of my life would have been the same if we hadn’t have slept together that night. I’m almost glad we did. I kind of want to hug my inner slut, because as crazy as it sounds, I can’t help but feel like Carter understands me.
And really, we make quite a lot of sense, don’t we? We’re both independent. I don’t see money or expensive things when I look at him because I have my own. He doesn’t look at me like someone who needs him to look after them, because he knows I can do that, too.
In a crazy twist of fate, we’re so alike in what we want, that we’re just about perfect for each other.
“Hellooooo?” a woman’s voice sings out from the front door.
Carter and I turn at the same time. My first thought is that Carter lied, and she’s actually his twin, because aside from the fact her features are more delicate than his and her hair is much longer, she looks exactly like him, even down to the stunning green eyes.
“Izzy.” Carter walks to her and embraces her.
“Carter!” she squeals, hugging him back tightly. She releases him and looks around. “Ooooh, it’s so much prettier here now!” Her eyes fall on me. “And you must be Bee!”
“That’s me,” I respond, a hint of shyness to my voice. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“And I, you!” Izzy bounds over to me and wraps me in an enthusiastic hug. “It’s so great to meet you!”
“Sorry,” I hear Carter mutter. “I forgot to mention that she’s an enthusiastic hugger.”
I raise my eyebrows at him. “You think?” I mouth, taking a deep breath as she lets me go.
“Are these your plans from now? Can I see? He only showed me the basic ones.” Izzy darts around my side and looks at the sheets spread out on the counter. “Ohhh, I love this.” The sheets move around. “These are amazing. Holy shit, I’m sorry, I’m totally messing up your organization here.”
Carter snorts. “Bee wouldn’t know organization if it smacked her in the face.”
“Hey! Organized chaos, remember?” I protest.
“Yeah, yeah. I remember.”
“Carter! Don’t be an asshole. I know that’s hard for you to grasp, but try and be nice,” Izzy admonishes him.
“All right. If you’re pretending to be my big sister, I’m going to do some work.” He rolls his shoulders and heads past us, throwing me a wink as he approaches the door.
“I won’t judge if you kiss her,” Izzy calls, looking a sheet of my design.
“Izzy,” he warns her.
She rolls her eyes and nudges my arm. “He’s an idiot.”
“Isabel!”