Page 80 of Where Happiness Begins

“Oh, shut up,” Wren tells him, chuckling, while Finn gives him the finger, never breaking away from the kiss with his wife.

I steal a piece of theyaniquequesAaron brought over, smiling as I eat and look around at all those people I love so, so much. And when my eyes land on Carter, my smile finds a way to grow even bigger. That man, who I used to beg for even a hint of emotion, is now chuckling softly as he counts the money Finn gave him, all the while Finn starts bickering with him and Aaron again. That smile I’d started to believe would only ever make an appearance when we’re the two of us alone makes me so happyI could cry. He feels comfortable here, for some reason. Maybe this is another place, or another set of people, with whom he could let his guard down.

I shift over the pillow I dropped on the floor and sat on so I can put a hand on Carter’s thigh and squeeze it. I don’t know how much PDA he’ll be okay with since we ourselves don’t know what we are exactly, but as soon as I touch him, he clutches my hand and lifts it with his to rest on top of the coffee table as if we’ve done this a thousand times before. I notice everyone’s eyes darting toward our hands, but no one says a word, and the rest of the night goes like this, with Carter and me moving closer and closer until I’m almost in his lap. And as we finish the game of Monopoly—Aaron winning and Finn almost crying about it—and we move on to another game, then another, everyone eating and laughing, I realize Carter and I are acting like an actual married couple. With his arm around my waist, my long-time friends teasing him, the two of us exchanging knowing glances when Aaron says something about the city of Montreal or when Lexie mentions how strong alcohols aren’t for her, it doesn’t feel fake. Not one bit.

I now watch him moving his character on the LIFE board, and when he crosses the married line and throws me a private wink, I want it. I want it so freaking bad. This life, this marriage. I want us to keep coming here for game nights, not as friends or living partners but as an us. I want him to always look at me when he hears something funny and wants to share it with me. I want to be the person he teases when we play just like Lexie did with Finn. I want it all.

Those tingles I feel every time we touch, every time I eventhinkof him, aren’t just lust.

I’m pretty sure they’re from being hopelessly in love with him.

We leave their place way past midnight, my cheeks hurting from smiling so much. Carter and I walk the few streets toward where we parked earlier, his arm around my shoulders, warming me. When we reach the car, he opens the door for me, and as soon as he sits in the driver’s seat and closes his door, I can’t hold back any longer. I take his jaw between my hands and kiss him.

I know with my realization from earlier, I should probably keep my distance and protect my heart, but I think it’s too late for that.

“What was that for?” Carter asks when I pull back.

“I’m happy.” Simple as that.

The five o’clock shadow on his cheeks tickles my fingers as his eyes alternate between mine. And then his lips are on mine again, hungrier this time.

His hands come to my hips as we deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding into my mouth and earning a moan out of me as he lifts me from my seat and drops me so I’m straddling him. The steering wheel jabs me in the back, but I could not care less as Carter’s mouth travels down my neck, to my collarbone, and then to the top of my breasts, where he presses wet kisses before dragging my face back to his.

He tastes like cola and like the chocolate we shared earlier, each stroke of his tongue more delicious than the last. I feel dizzy, an ache building between my thighs, and when I shift forward, Carter is hard and ready in his jeans under me.

I can’t get enough of him. The tight grip he has on my hair, like he’s afraid I’ll get away, the sounds he lets out when I lick a path from those annoyingly attractive neck tendons to his earlobe, the way his hips grind in rhythm with mine to create the perfect friction where I want him.

Still, it’s not enough.

“I want you,” I whisper against his lips, both our rapid breaths filling the silence of the car.

“Now?” he asks, not like a complaint but like he wants to make sure we’re both on the same wavelength.

“Yes.” I unbutton his jeans, then drag his zip down. “Now.”

The next moments are a blur of limbs as we pull Carter’s pants low enough to release his cock, firm and glistening with lust, and then to lift my skirt up to my waist.

The street we’re parked on is in a secluded part of town, and not a soul seems to be out at this hour. I don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to anyway. This need is too intense, too profound for me to think about possible consequences.

Carter tugs my panties to the side, not even taking the time to pull them off, then slides one finger up my wet slit, hissing. “Fucking hell. You’re killing me, Fireball.”

I gasp at the contact, then squeeze his shoulders tighter as he inserts his finger inside me, his slowness pure torture. I pick upthe pace myself, riding his finger, head thrown back when he adds another.

“Greedy little thing,” he whispers before pulling down my top with his free hand, then takes a nipple in his mouth.

“Carter,” I moan, moving even faster. “I want more.”

“More?” He brings his thumb to my clit and starts to circle.

“Shit,” I mutter, then reach between us to grip him. “I need you.”

“Good, ’cause I need you too.” He pulls his fingers out, and I only have a second to mourn the loss before his tip is at my entrance, sliding in an inch. We both gasp, our faces aligned, mouths parted against the other’s, his upper lip leaned against my bottom one.

“Take what you need, honey,” he says, and our eyes remain locked as I sink down, taking him to the hilt.

His groan fills the car, but I don’t give either of us any time to adjust, already moving against him. This is nothing like our last time, exploratory and slow. This is taking for the sake of taking, connecting because there’s no other option, because I need him and he needs me and nothing else will tame this hunger.

The way he looks at me as I ride him, with his eyes glinting and his lips parted, makes me feel like a goddess, like this is just as good to him as it is to me. It gives me confidence I never knew I needed, enough that I fully take control, finding a pace that makes tension rise in my belly.

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