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“Captain of the Vancouver Vipers. And you can take that ‘sweetheart’ and stuff it up your ass.”
She smells good, like freshly baked banana bread. Is that weird? All I know is I want to taste her.
“Has anyone ever been able to tell you no?” she asks on a whisper.
My chest puffs with pride. “Never.” She grins, and Christ, it’s a glorious sight. “Well, I guess there’s a first time for everything.” My forehead crumples as she steps out of reach. “What?” “Enjoy the rest of your night,” she calls over her shoulder before she squeezes through the crowd, disappearing, and Jesus Christ, I’m actually gonna have to go home and do what she told me to: fuck myself. Well, fuck. I don’t like this.
“Winter is coming.”
Game of Thrones reference going where I thought it would—clear over her head.
Hot breath rolls down my neck, and I close my eyes as an enticing aroma swirls around me, hints of citrus mixed with the outdoors, like lime and musky cedarwood.
Not really, but I never turn down the opportunity to take off my bra, throw on my grubbiest sweats, and curl up on my couch with a good smut book or four hours straight of Netflix.
I want to feel like I mean something to someone, not like he’s made it a challenge to get in my pants because I’m the first woman who didn’t fall at his feet.
His grin is explosive, handsome, sexy, infuriating. Leaning over the boards, he stares down the length of his stick at me, the tip resting on top of the glass. “Hi.”
Carter knows what he does to me, and that right there will be my downfall.
“You’re a goddamn masterpiece. I could just take you home and cuddle you all night long on my couch. What’s that term—Netflix and chill?” I wind the sleeves around my fists and bend my neck, the tips of our noses grazing when she tilts her face up. “Come on, Olivia. Let’s do it.”
He belongs here, on the other side, no emotional attachments. Because that’s the last thing anyone wants to do with a man who has no inclination to settle down: get emotionally attached.
“What’s your favorite song?” “I’ve got two.” “Gimme your most favorite first.” “‘Slow Dancing in a Burning Room.’”
“Prove it, pip-squeak.”
Then he shuts the door, hits me with two finger guns, and yells, “It’s a date!”
“If I find something like you and Dad had, the last thing I’ll do is let it get away from me.”
“You can’t kiss my not-a-real-date-but-actually-is-a-real-date at midnight!”
Her eyes are the warmest shade of brown with tiny flecks of gold, like smooth, melted chocolate, and when she peers up at me from beneath those thick, dark lashes, all I can picture is the way she’d look below me, our eyes locked while I bring her right to the edge before inevitably throwing us both over.
“What if the only thing I’m sure about wanting is you?” She sweeps her thumb over the indent in my chin. “Sometimes wanting something isn’t enough.”
But Olivia catches my eye, the corner of her mouth lifting as she sidesteps away from him, and for some reason, that’s it. For some reason, I know: no isn’t an option when she’s involved.
Because I can do better, be better, and I can do it for Olivia. I want to do it for Olivia.
when our lips touch—fucking finally—my entire body comes alive. My world explodes with color, my hands on her face trembling with desire and need, with shock. I want more. Need more.
Nothing matters except this woman in my arms,
Okay, one more. Just for good measure, because fuck me, she tastes like the best kind of sin.
He shoves my shoulder. “Do you like her?” I jam my elbow into his ribs. “Yes, I fucking like her.”
“Of course I like him, Cara. He’s charming and funny and makes me smile in this irritating sort of way and I’m losing my damn mind because I’m totally falling for Carter Beckett.”
Hell yeah she is. Charming? Check. Funny? As fuck. Make her smile? Straight from my bucket list.
I want to see her again. I want to take her to that Disney movie. I want to kiss her some more, maybe snuggle on my couch while we watch TV in front of the fireplace and I play with her hair, ’cause it’s soft and it smells nice.
When you love someone so wholly, it makes you weak. You risk pieces of yourself that you can’t afford to lose.
And honestly? I fucking adore her.
When I need to forget who the world thinks Carter Beckett is and remember who I actually am, or who I want to be, maybe.
His chest rumbles with approval as I take everything he gives me, including the words he forces down my throat when his mouth takes mine. “Good girl.”
I wanna hear you scream my name when you come with me inside you. Got it?”
“You haven’t broken me yet, but I’m hoping if I’m a good girl, you will soon.”
“Fuck.” He brackets my jaw, dark eyes fixed on mine. “I wanna give you whatever you want.” “Wreck me, Carter.”
“I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. Never, Ollie. I just want you to consider … consider giving me a shot. Consider me. That’s all I want, Ol. A chance with you.”
“We’re done when I say we’re done.” “Carter,” I whimper. “Fucking love when you say my name.”
“Now scream it.”
“Can I keep you?” he asks. “Yes.”
It’s in this moment that I realize how earth-shatteringly fucked I am.
The shadow is me. I’m gonna be glued to her leg like a horny, unneutered dog for a long-ass time. Maybe forever.
This girl owns me—for some fucking reason—and I refuse to let her make the wrong decision for both of us.
Consider me.
I’m scared that she could be my forever.
But right now, I’m most terrified that she’s going to walk out that door and never come back.
heart. She doesn’t want it to be forever, but I can tell by the look in her eyes that it’s the way she thinks it needs to be, so before she can answer, I beat her to it.
“Just so we’re clear, you’re the one who’s walking away right now. This isn’t what I want.”
Except things might have already gone up in flames.
The truth is, I’d closed my eyes and jumped. As I fell asleep with his body locked around mine, keeping me warm, I told myself to breathe, that we’d figure it out together in the morning.
