Page 103 of The Sound of Temptation

I pull her to me and she wraps her arms around me.

“Yes, I choose you, Carter. I choose us.”

Her touch changes. Her body had been curled into mine for comfort and closeness. Now though, it’s seeking relief.

I’m trying to show restraint. Vaguely, I remember that I’ve got a lot left to say, but damn, if I can remember what.

“I want you,” she murmurs in my ear.

“Fuck, Beth,” I growl in her ear.

I press her into the wall. The friction of our bodies’ exchange, thighs brush each other, her soft stomach cradling my hard cock, the heat of her breath on my neck, her sweat mingled with her perfume — all of it is the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever experienced in my life.

I am on fire for her.

I am in love with her.

I don’t even know what the fuck I’ll do if I can’t find a way to make things work with her. That rush of possessiveness and jealousy I feel isn’t something I’m comfortable with.

If that’s part of this love thing, I’ll live with it.

But, I won’t share her.

Not with anyone.

I want to spread her thighs and eat her until she sobs my name like it’s the only word she knows while everyone watches. I want someone to make a video and for that shit to go viral so there will never be any doubt who she belongs to. I mean, she can try to move on, but we all still think of Kim as Ray Jay’s because we can’t forget watching her come on his tongue.

The door next to us opens and that’s when I realize we’re standing outside the bathroom.

A group of women come stumbling out, a miasma of cigarettes, air freshener, laughter and light fills the hallway. Beth stiffens and turns sharply so her face is obscured from their view.

They pass us and I recognize one of them as one of Etta’s junior relators. Her eyes widen with the same recognition and her smile fades as she looks at the back of Liz’s head. She rakes her eyes over me in head- to- toe appraisal and I’m suddenly very aware of my surroundings.

We’re outside a bathroom in a very busy restaurant. My shirt is untucked and my hair must be all over my head. But before I can think about the implications of this, Liz spins around and steps into the bathroom.

She grabs my hand and pulls me inside. It’s a big room, more like a dressing room with a small closet where the toilet is.

Under the harsh fluorescent light, I can see all of the details I missed in the club. She walks backward until she hits the long counter of the vanity and she hops on. We stare at each other. She looks, looser. Her hair is loose and frames her face in myriad of dark brown waves, shot through with sun kissed caramel that skim the tops of her bare shoulders. It’s perfect.

“You look beautiful.”

A nervous, self-conscious smile curves her lips. ”Thank you,”

“God got it so right when he crowned you. Your hair is so beautiful.” I reach out and brush it off her shoulder, the tips of my fingers skimming her collarbone before I pull my hand back.

“God got it so right when he sent you to Winsome. I’ve missed you this week. So, very much.”

She holds her arms out to me, and I don’t need any more invitation than that. I step into her and wrap my arms around her, too.

As soon as we touch like this, the emotions I was feeling are infused with lust and I’m at war with my own desire again.

“Touch me, Carter,” she says, and it’s almost a moan.

“Where?” I ask gruffly in her ear.

“Everywhere. Anywhere. Your hands feel so good.” She murmurs, but her voice has ceded that drowsy sensuality to the urgent lust that’s gripping both of us.

I let go

---