I grab hold of his head and lift it up so we’re staring into each other’s eyes. “Please don’t mention your sister right now.”
He chuckles. “Noted.”
We stop talking. He strips me of my dress, then tugs my panties down, causing them to fall around my ankles. I kick them off, along with my sandals, until I’m standing before him completely naked while he’s still completely clothed.
There is something so erotic about standing bare before a fully clothed man. I’m on display. Totally at his mercy. God, just thinking about it leaves me shaky and breathless with want for him.
I gasp when he whips me around so my back is to his front. The couch is directly in front of me and running on pure instinct, I bend over it, my arms gripping the top of the cushions, my right cheek pressed into the soft fabric. He runs his hands down my back, over my ass, between my legs, testing me. I jolt when he makes contact.
“Wet.”
I’m probably dripping, I’m so turned on.
“I could take you like this.”
I close my eyes, my imagination running wild. “Do it.”
The unmistakable sound of rustling clothes hits my ears, and I wait in breathless anticipation as he prepares himself. I can tell he’s pulled a condom out of somewhere—I assume his wallet—and when his jeans fall, his belt making a clanking noise when it hits the ground, a wave of cold air washes over my skin, making me shiver.
“Spread your legs,” he commands, and I do as he says without hesitation. Seconds later I feel the head of him nudging between my thighs, sliding deep until he’s fully seated inside me. He holds himself there for a moment, his erection throbbing within me, and I squeeze my inner walls, earning a groan for my efforts.
“Jesus, Stella. I’ve fantasized about fucking you on this couch,” he admits as he starts to move.
I say nothing. I can hardly form words. It’s like my mind has become a blank slate and all I can do is concentrate on the sensation of Carter’s big dick sliding in and out of my body.
Crude, but true. This is pure fantasy stuff right now. Things I only imagined happening in my dreams.
It’s happening in real life. And it. Is.
Amazing.
His big hands settle on my hips as he keeps me in place, his hips pressing against my ass before retreating, a delicious rhythm that’s already got me twisted up inside. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
I can’t get enough of his compliments. The gruff sounds he makes when he thrusts forward. All this pent-up anticipation and need is pouring over us, tearing down our walls, leaving us completely raw and open.
I moan when he pushes deep, hitting a particular spot. Oh, I am definitely going to come like this. My clit is rubbing against the couch every single time he fucks me, and the stimulation is so good. I’m tingling everywhere, most intensely between my legs, and when he squeezes my hips and starts picking up speed, I just let him completely take over. I don’t even think I’m moving any longer.
I don’t have to. He’s doing all the work for me. I’m just along for the delicious ride.
Do we even last ten minutes? I don’t think so, but it doesn’t matter. One minute I’m hovering on that beautiful edge and the next I’m falling straight over it, coming with his name on my lips, shuddering beneath him as he presses his big body over mine. He still has his shirt on, I can feel his bunched-up jeans brush against my ankles, and he thrusts once. Twice, my inner walls milking him, milking his orgasm right out of him until he’s coming with a shout.
My body slumps into the couch, my face buried against the cushions. Carter pulls away a little, though he’s still inside my body, and I try my best to calm my racing heart by evening out my breaths.
“I fucked you like an animal,” he finally says, sounding a little disgusted with himself.
I can’t help it. I start to laugh, the sound muffled against the couch.
His touch is gentle as he traces his fingers down my lower spine. “What’s so funny? I feel like an asshole right now.”
“It was so good, Carter,” I practically moan into the couch. “I loved it.”
He pauses, his fingers caught mid stroke. “Really?”
I lift my head, glancing over my shoulder so I can smile at him. “Really.”
Much later, when we’re lying in my bed and the still-falling rain batters the windows and roof outside, I’m snuggled up close to Carter. Running my fingers through the curling dark hairs on his chest, slowly drifting off to sleep when he utters something that makes me go completely still.
“We should tell Caroline.” He pauses. “About us.”
My hand stops moving. I swear my heart stops beating. He’s quiet. I’m quiet. Until finally I can’t stand it any longer and lift my head, my gaze searching for his in the darkness. “I think that’s the terrible idea.”
He’s frowning. Have I ever mentioned how attractive Carter is when he frowns? It doesn’t matter what he’s doing, he’s attractive. And lately he’s not been shaving, which gives him this bad boy with a beard edge that is a huge turn on.
The man always looks like a sex god, no matter what he’s doing. Having him naked in my bed after a particularly adventurous evening? He’s enough to make my heart beat triple time.
“Why is it a terrible idea?” He sounds annoyed.
Great. How do I say I’m scared to tell his sister—my best friend—about us, because I’m afraid we won’t work out? The possibility is there, he can’t deny it. I have a bad track record. He has a bad one too. We don’t stick. We don’t do relationships.
So why does he want to bring his sister into this when there’s probably a less than five percent chance of us actually dating? So we can disappoint her?
“We should just…wait.” I drop my head onto his chest again, letting the steady beat of his heart soothe me. He remains silent for so long, I close my eyes once more, almost on my way to sleepy time when his chest rumbles as he speaks.
“Wait for what?”
A sigh escapes me. He’s going to make this difficult, isn’t he? “Everything’s still so…new. And you said so yourself a few weeks ago that you’re not looking for a relationship. Well, neither am I.”
Again he’s quiet, and it makes me nervous. He’s thinking. I know he is. He’s thinking about us, and how can he convince me that we should tell Caroline and Alex and all of my friends. His friends now too. I mean, my friends already know we had sex once, and they’re dying to see us together again, so they’d be supportive. But support only goes so far. Then there’s my family to contend with—
I lift away from him, propping myself on my elbow so I can look him in the eyes. It kind of sucks, how good-looking he is. Makes him that much harder to resist, you know?
This man is my weakness. It’s scary.
“Let’s just keep this on the down low for now. We had sex over a year ago. Now we’ve had sex again tonight. I don’t think that means we need to declare to everyone that we’re a couple,” I explain, my voice soft and light. Like hey, no big deal. Nothing to see here.
Oh, and we are definitely not a couple. Nope. We start talking like that, I might bug out. And by bug out, I mean kick him out and end all contact with him.