Page 59 of Fall to Me
“Chick flick it is, then,” he says, kissing the top of my head.
“What? The way Noah loves Allie is sweet.”
“Was it that he really loved her, or was it something else?”
I lean back and shoot him a look that screams, “Are you serious?” Of course Noah loved Allie. With his entire heart. He built a damn house for her. Read their life story to her when she forgot.
“Oh, we’re about to fight. You take that back right now!”
Carter laughs. “Okay, look, you see him as the perfect hero in an ultimate love story, but what I see is a man with romantic idealizations who places her on this unrealistic pedestal. He exaggerates her positive traits while ignoring her negative ones. He doesn’t see her flaws. Doesn’t really care to either. When she leaves him, he obsesses on giving her everything she ever wanted, thinking if he held on tight enough, he wouldn’t lose her. It’s a classic case of anxious pre-occupied attachment.”
My mouth drops halfway through his psychoanalysis of a fuckingmoviecharacter, and when he finishes, I adamantly shake my head.
“Nope. I can’t be convinced. Carter, he wrote her letters for a year.”
“Exactly my point. After she didn’t write him back for the first few months, that should have signaled him to find closure.”
“Says the man who chased my ass for over a year.”
“And I’m still chasing your ass, fully aware of your flaws, and not giving a single fuck about them.” He laughs, and I pinch his side. “Ouch!”
He grabs my wrist and holds me back until it becomes an all-out tickle fight. I kick my feet, trying like hell to fight him off.
“Okay, stop,” I wheeze, picking the blanket up from the floor.
As I bend over, Carter gives my ass a little slap. Gasping, I turn around. His eyes widen, and his mouth drops open like he can’t believe he just did that. The moment lingers, the air crackling between us. My pulse races faster with each passing second.
I liked it.
And I liked it when his hands were around my throat. And when he pulled my hair during training. I loved that dream about him.
Am I fucked up?
Wouldhethink I’m messed up? Carter certainly knows his shit when it comes to why people like the things they like, so why not ask him?
I lick my lips and muster up the courage to ask, “So . . . what would you say about someone who’s into BDSM, or something like it?”
“That’s quite the segue from codependence.”
“I’m aware. Just answer the question,” I snark back, trying to hide my unease at even asking it.
“Well, that’s a whole other scenario. Some people just like kink. That doesn’t mean there’s anything psychologically wrong with them. If you elaborate, I can tell you what I think.”
He pulls the blanket up over me and rests his hand on my hip.
“For instance, let’s say someone who has a past like mine wanted someone to . . . you know . . . I mean, would you think that person was fucked up?”
He shifts in his seat, his eyes holding mine prisoner as he studies me. Swallowing hard, his Adam’s apple bobs, and before I can even blink, I’m on my back, his hand cradling the back of my head, his fingers threading through my hair, and pulling it into his tight fist. I lick my lips and moan as he tilts my head back and runs his nose up my neck.
“Is that what you were dreaming about when you were lying in my bed?”
How does he know I’ve dreamed about him? I don’t give him a response. How can I? I can barely even think.
“Answer me, baby. Have you dreamed of me doing the most depraved shit to you?”
“Y-Yes.”
Releasing my hair, he moves down my body, trailing kisses down my neck, my chest, to the line of my cleavage. He lifts my shirt, dragging his mouth down to my stomach, kissing and licking as he pins my arms at my side. I’m aching for him. I want him.
