Page 53 of The Devil's Detail
Ron’s jabbering about how much he and his kids love Carter and his latest film. Carter is lapping up the attention as usual. But I see the polite movie star façade. I hear the platitudes, and the well-rehearsed one liners—the amazing but superficial conversation that Carter verbally spills out.
How different he is from the man I walked on the beach with, the man who I did yoga with. The man I made dinner for. I see it all so clearly. The difference is there in black and white terms. I realise he’s shown me the man, not the actor. He’s trusted me with Carter, and I’m hooked. I need to see more, I want more. I want more of Carter.
“Shall I order us a coffee?” he politely asks us all.
Ron is looking from Carter to me and back again. God knows what he sees, but he shakes his head and grins at me.
“No, I’ll head out. Thanks, Jackson. I’ll sign the contracts tomorrow and email them over.”
“You don’t have to leave on my account, sugar. I’m happy to hang on if you still need Jackson,” Carter drawls out.
“No, it’s fine, Carter. And thanks for the advice about my girl. I’ll get her enrolled in that acting school.” Ron is nodding and smiling like a fool. The hard-headed business mogul reduced to mush.
“I’ll have tickets to a premier, if you think she’d be interested,” Carter offers, blowing my contract terms into the sky. Ron’ll sign just for that.
“Well, yes, that would be incredible. I’ll win dad of the year if you can swing that.” Ron’s all breathless at the prospect.
“Sure, sugar. Can I get your details from Jackson? I’ll get my people on it for you.”
“Ye-yes, that’s great.” Ron stands and I stand with him.
“Look, Ron, if you get home and have a change of heart about our contract, there’s a cooling off period. I’m sure Carter will still get you the tickets even if you decide not to go ahead with my company. Isn’t that right, Carter?” I look at Carter and his face has blanched. He thinks he’s overstepped the mark. He covers it well, though, and I see the A-list face back in play.
“Gawd, of course, honey. Your girl will be going no matter what you decide, Ron. No pressure, man.” He waves his hands around expressively, like it’s all just no big deal.
Ron and I shake hands again and he leaves, but not without one more peek back at Carter as he walks out the door.
“Am I in trouble already? I didn’t think, I just bulldozed in. Don’t spank me too hard, baby. I swear I can behave.”
I focus on his face, and although I see the jokey exterior, I also see and hear the panic underneath. Instead of responding, I point to some sofas in the corner. “Shall we sit there? They look more comfortable.”
He looks into my face, which is totally impassive, and sighs. “Okay. Whatever you want, baby.” He sounds so resigned, I almost break cover and smirk at his behaviour.
It takes an age to get to the sofas, he’s besieged even in the tiny cafe. Signs autographs, and does a few photos. But Ash comes over and asks everyone if they can wait to take pictures until they’re leaving. Carter smiles his professional smile, but that worried look is still in his eyes over thirty minutes later when we finally plonk onto the seats, next to each other.
“Is this always going to be the same?” I ask with no emotion in my voice, my face is stoic.
He blows a big breath out, and hangs his head backwards, closing his eyes as he does. His leg presses into mine, and I can feel the heat pouring off of him. I take in the column of his throat, the cut of his jawline as his head is laid backwards. His collarbones peeking out from under his T-shirt. I can’t take my eyes off him. I’m panting, and I want to bite that fucking throat. Run my tongue over those collarbones. Lick that jawline.
I’m not sure if my body is calling his, but he opens his eyelids, and turns his deep ocean blue-green eyes on me. My panting stops, as all the breath is knocked from my body. It feels like aphysical punch. His tongue runs over his full lips as he continues to stare at me, staring at him.
“Fuck, Jackson, if you keep that up, we won’t even finish a coffee date.” He shutters his eyes from mine, saying, “I’m so sorry. I never thought about your contract with the man. I’m fuckin’ sorry, baby.” His voice is low and husky. My balls tingle and my cock starts to throb, hardening behind my zipper.
“It’s fine, Carter. I never said it to embarrass you. I just needed Ron to think about it. And he’d lost the plot, you’d reeled him in. You don’t even know you’re doing it. It’s just who you are.” I stop for a beat and then say. “A bit like me, now.”
I hear the intake of breath. His eyes regarding me as I smirk at him. “You fucker. You play too good a game. I thought my goose was cooked. I thought you were going to tell me to fuck off.” His voice is lazy, a hazy summer day.
I raise an eyebrow at him. “You can’t read me? You can’t read when I want to kiss those fucking lips. Bite that jaw you’ve just shown me, and lick every ounce of sweat from that throat.”
He gasps out and pushes his legs closer to mine. I can feel the muscles cutting into me. Clearly Ash has kept up their regimen even in London.
“You can’t see how hard my cock is for you?” I brush his hand with mine, and every nerve ending in my body fires to life. “You can’t see if you said the word, I’d take your cock out and suck it in front of this whole coffee shop? Because I wouldn’t be able to stop myself. You don’t see that?”
He shakes his head. But I see the fire in the eyes. His breathing, fast and shallow. His pulse pounding at his neck.
I reach up as if he’s magnetic, brushing my fingers across his smooth skin. Touching the pounding pulse. “Just there, that is where I want my tongue.” My voice is a growl now. And I feel him shiver.
“Jackson, I—” he can’t get any more words out. Fanfuckingtastic.
