Page 61 of The Carver

She’d already tried to leave me once because she wasn’t ready for something serious, because she didn’t want to be involved with a man who always had a target on his back. We’d moved past it, but I wasn’t sure if we would move past this. I’d never expected her to witness a showdown, and I was mad as hell that some asshole had made his move in front of my woman.

If she left me, that would be it. I wouldn’t chase her, and if she tried to come back to me, I would tell her we were done. Regardless of how I felt about her, I needed her to be like one of my boys, someone who would be there through thick and thin, who had the spine to endure the pressure and a stomach to tolerate the acid.

It took her a while to text me back, even though I knew she was off work.I miss you too.

Did she really? If I showed up at her apartment, would she dump me again? I shouldn’t make assumptions when we hadn’t discussed what had happened, but based on the way she’d taken off last time, it was fair for me to assume the worst. She’d alreadylet me down once.I’ll be there in ten minutes. My driver was already around the corner from her apartment, but I wanted to give her notice.

Okay.

I stepped out of the vehicle and smoked a cigar on the sidewalk. People walked past, getting off work and in desperate need of a drink and a cigarette. I stared at the green door that led to her lobby as I finished my cigar, giving her time to prepare for my arrival. “Don’t let me down, sweetheart.” I stomped the cigar beneath my boot then went inside, and I made it to her front door.

I let myself into her apartment and found her in the kitchen, wearing the same outfit she must have worn to work, a tight pencil skirt with tights and boots, a long-sleeved blouse snug on her slender body.

She looked like a hot piece of ass, as always.

My body moved into hers like a magnet, and I kissed her as I held her close, one hand in her hair and one hand squeezing her tight ass, falling right back into old habits, despite the dread in my heart.

She kissed me back like she really did miss me.

When I ended the kiss, I swiped my thumb over her soft cheek and settled it on the corner of her mouth, her lips painted the color of her Bordeaux, her makeup dark and smoky, sexy. I stared at her for a while and forgot all the bullshit that required my attention.

Her hand went to my wrist, and she turned into my palm to kiss it.

As innocent as the affection was, it set me on fire.

She kissed me again then kissed the pad of my thumb, leaving a tiny mark from her lipstick. She gripped my arm with her other hand, like she wanted my flesh, my protection, my heat. Then she stepped into me and rose on the tips of her toes in her boots to kiss my mouth, to kiss me as if I hadn’t just kissed her when I’d walked in the door, as if the appetizer just made her hungrier. Her arms circled my neck, and she kissed me with tongue and breath, like she’d been aching for me every moment we’d been apart.

No other woman ever turned me on the way she did.

I squeezed her ass before I lifted her into me and carried her into the little bedroom down the hall, the one with the slanted walls because she rented the attic loft since it was cheaper. I laid her on the bed, slipped off her boots and yanked down the tights and the thong underneath.

Then I pushed up her skirt and kissed her pretty little pussy.

She sucked in a deep breath between her clenched teeth and then gave a pleasured sigh.

I hooked my arms under her ass, and I kissed her pussy as hard as she’d kissed my mouth, happy to be reunited with the one woman who had ever set me on fire, who had a pussy more addictive than the best heroin I’d ever injected into my veins, the best coke I’d ever snorted off a whore’s ass.

She dug her fingers into my hair, and she enjoyed it, slowly grinding into my face, her beautiful sighs filling her small apartment on the top floor. When she was close to the edge, her hands went to my wrists, and she squeezed me hard, silently asking me to stop.

I could eat her pussy all day, but that was never how she wanted to come, and that was just fine by me. I yanked off my shirt, ditched the boots, jeans, and boxers, and then moved on top of her on the full-size bed. She opened herself to receive me, squeezing my torso with her knees and hooking her ankles together at the top of my ass. I sank inside her paradise and squeezed through her slick flesh, reunited with the tightness that rivaled the strength of a clenched fist.

Her arms circled my neck, and I pressed my chest into her firm tits. Her mouth was to my ear, moaning at my thick invasion into her little channel. It was like our first time all over again, when she’d taken me home from the bar and fucked my brains out like she’d never get another chance to have me, when she’d embraced her pleasure with passion because she didn’t care if she looked eager or desperate.

I wanted to take her hard from the moment I saw her, but now that I felt her underneath me, felt her want me desperately, I slowed down to savor it. To make it last. To listen to her breaths and feel her nails claw at my skin until the sweat made the cuts burn.

I sat at her round table in just my boxers. When I’d come over here in the past, the temperature had been frigid because she hadn’t wanted to use her heater, but now it was actually warm, which told me she was putting her new salary to good use.

She came out of the bathroom after she fixed her makeup, makeup I ruined by shoving her face into the sheets. She’d put on my shirt, and she took a seat at the table, her hair soft because she’d brushed out all the tangles from my knots. “Hungry?”

“Always.”

“I don’t have a butler to make us dinner, but I can order a pizza.”

I smirked. “Pizza sounds great, sweetheart.”

She grabbed her phone and made an order on a delivery app.

I wanted to take her to dinner, but when she put on my clothes and even my socks, I could tell she didn’t want to go anywhere.

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