Page 73 of Where Happiness Begins
My next breath is difficult against the tension enveloping the room—or is it just the tension between the two of us? Ever since I saw him sitting in those garden chairs, I haven’t been able tokeep my eyes off him, and I think the feeling’s mutual. In fact, I’ve been attuned to him for far longer than that. Even before the shower, before the bed we shared, before the kiss. He feels right in a way I never thought I’d experience again, and as he loosens his tie and unbuttons the top of his shirt, I find myself wishing he wereactuallymine, that I had a right to walk over to him and help him undress. It’s unhealthy, but I can’t help it.
“Tired?” I ask. I know I am, even though being this close to him has my body on high alert.
He hums, not taking his eyes away from me.
“Time for bed, then,” I answer. “Thanks for tonight.”
“For what?” he asks.
“Dancing with me? Just coming down and being there?” I would’ve loved Finn and Lexie’s wedding regardless, but Carter made the night flawless.
“Course,” he says in that deep voice of his that sends a wave of heat down my spine.
I nod, then turn toward my room but stop midway when I remember how hard it was to get in that dress, however good it looks.
I walk back to Carter, offering him my back while I bring my hair over my shoulder. “Unzip me?”
An abnormally long pause ensues as if he’s hesitating or wondering how to do it. I feel exposed, my skin in full display to him with that back décolleté.
Finally, the shift of fabric rustles as he leans closer, then his fingertips graze against the skin of my shoulder blades as he slowlypulls the zipper down. Only when it’s just above my panty line does he let go and step back.
“Thanks.” I turn to him, stomach hollowing at the fire burning in his eyes as they continue roaming my body. I should take a step back, protect my fragile heart, but I remain in place, letting my gaze drop to the fine bristles of hair at the top of his chest, then to the tight fists at his sides, and finally to the strong muscles in his clenched jaw.
“Lilianne,” he says, voice tight as a drawstring.
“What?”
“You gotta stop looking at me like that.”
Even with the heat scalding my cheeks, I ask, “Like what?”
“Like you want me.” His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “You think I haven’t noticed the way you’ve been checking me out?” A deep breath puffs out of his chest. “My self-restraint’s at its end.”
I need to replay his words a few times to make sure I’ve actually understood what he meant. I knew a part of him wanted this, but this is more than casual wanting. This is pure craving.
He meant it as a threat, a reason to walk away, but I only take a step closer. His nostrils flare as he looks down, where the straps of my gown are dangerously close to falling down my arms.
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” he says, but his body tells me the opposite. It looks as if he’s trying his hardest to hold himself back, and I want him unleashed. I want him to tell me what I do to him, to do what was playing out in his head while he jerked off. I don’t care that he’s right and this is a terrible idea that could make the next year and a half of our lives a living hell, or that I’ll probablyonly end up hurt. I can’t handle this anymore. Not when I know he feels the same. A part of me also tells me this isn’t just physical to him. He wouldn’t have come here from tour because he missed me if he just wanted sex. He could get that anywhere.
This is more.
I take another step closer, my chest now brushing his, breasts sensitive against the silk fabric of my dress.
“Lilianne—”
“Goddammit, will you just kiss me?”
And kiss me, he does.
My words seem to be his undoing because one moment we’re standing in the middle of the living room, and the next my back is forced against the wall, Carter’s hand wrapped lightly around my throat in a possessive embrace as he kisses me breathless. His head bent, mine extended back, we’re perfectly crooked to allow the most contact.
My hands immediately climb to his hair, pulling as he nips at my lips in teasing bites, then tangles my tongue with his in a way that makes my toes curl against the carpet.
He kisses me like a starved man, like someone who’s waited years to finally get to this moment. And I eat it all up, meeting him blow for blow, bite for bite. He smells like pine trees and the musky scent of what I now know is his aftershave, the combination making me want to scream. I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life, more than I need my next breath.
The way his fingers caress my neck sends chills all over my skin, and when I jump to wrap my legs around his hips, he catches mewith his other hand before rolling his hips against mine, pushing me harder against the wall while also showing me how hard he is already.
“You look so goddamn gorgeous like this,” he whispers against my lips before kissing me once more, his lips soft but claiming. “With my hands on you and my ring on your finger.”
