Carter (9 page)

After we signed the agreement, I went to the bar to look into the waitressing job they’d literally opened up for me. The gesture was beyond kind. I’d actually be earning money, and I was bursting with excitement at that. Marlena sorted out my schedule, introduced me to a couple other waitresses, and then gave me a few uniforms. My head was spinning by the time I’d gotten back. In less than a day my life had completely changed, and I owed it to Carter for whisking me out of the shithole we grew up in.

The weeks that followed consisted of me training for a job with some seriously long hours, watching Carter form a band while clashing with Rome, and catching up on a lot of homework from school after I’d returned from the break with nothing to show for it. I never allowed myself to think of Russell and Cheryl. I’d grown happier every day I moved on from that life, but I knew I wasn’t as far away from them as I’d like to have been.

Carter and I slept on the mattresses on the floor until we could afford a bed. Nobody knew that he usually slipped into mine every night. Night time was usually my favourite time of the day; that was when Carter made out with me right before we fell asleep. It sort of became routine, being in each other’s arms, kissing until our lips had grown tired and our pulses had slowed down from some seriously intense make out sessions. He did things to me that made my eyes roll to the back of my head, using that tongue in ways that were downright wicked. Still, he didn’t have sex with me, and I was left frustrated most nights with a new ache between my legs that needed to be filled,
literally
.

There was no way I could wait any longer.

And right when I began to fall asleep, Carter would give me a goodnight kiss and slip out of bed and into his own room. I never got used to it. In fact, I hated it more than anything. This was him drawing the line. Telling me that although there was “more” between us, we weren’t in a relationship.

Friends.

We were just friends, as usual.

“I went to the clothing store today.”

Carter was seated on my bedroom floor with his back against the wall. His legs were spread out, his head bowed down at the notebook he was scribbling into. At the moment, though, he was deliberating, most likely lyrics to a song he was already forming in his head, dangling an HB pencil sideways in his mouth.

His hair had fallen over most of his forehead, curling a little at the ends. He was shirtless, wearing only flannel pants. I stared at him for a while, taking in his sharp jaw and beautifully set cheekbones that were filled with stubble.

“Carter,” I pressed, seated on the mattress, still on the floor, with my homework in my lap.

“Hmm?” he muttered, barely paying attention.

“I went to the clothing store today.”

“Cool.”

I frowned. This was the headache that came with living with a musician. He wasn’t always around mentally, which resulted in this: him ignoring me but pretending to pay attention at the same time.

“I have hairy armpits,” I proceeded to say, tilting my head as I studied him.

He grunted again, having not paid one ounce of attention to me.

“I want to tattoo my face.”

Nothing.

“I’m wearing a thong.”

This time, his head shot up, and he stared at me with wide blue eyes. “Are you really?”

I couldn’t resist laughing. “Oh, so you heard
that
?”

“I heard everything you said,” he replied, spitting out his pencil and tossing aside his notebook.

“Oh, yeah? Well then what else did I say, wise guy?”

He moved forward and slowly crawled to me. Shirtless, did I mention that? He was so fucking hot, I nearly combusted on the spot. He gave me his usual smouldering look that told me what mood he was in, and with his lips pulled up in a smirk, I knew exactly what was on his mind.

“You said,” he muttered, drawing near, “you went to a clothing store, you have hairy armpits, and you want to tattoo your face.”

My mouth broke into a massive grin as his arms rested on either side of me. His mouth skirted along mine.

“Oh,” I mumbled against his lips, “so you choose
not
to respond to me.”

In typical Carter fashion, he didn’t respond to
that
. His eyes simply looked down at my pyjama pants. “Are you seriously wearing a thong?” he asked heatedly, because that was apparently the most important thing right now.

I bit my lip and nodded, that blush really burning my cheeks now.

“Fuck,” he cursed with a pained look in his eye. “You’re already so sexy, Leah. But decorating that tight body? You must look like a fucking bombshell under all this baggage of clothes.”

“So you want to see, I take it.”

“I want to see and taste, thank you very much.”

I laughed again and went to pull my pants down, when his hand shot out and stopped me. He shook his head at me and I raised a confused brow at him.

“No, Angel,” he said, “for me to enjoy the full experience of seeing you in a thong, I need you bent over first.”

My breath escaped my lungs in a whoosh. “Bent over?”

He nodded gravely, like this was an extremely serious matter. “Oh, yeah. I want you bent over so I can slowly peel your pants off.”

Holy fucking shit on a stick.

He raised his finger and drew a circle in the air. “Around, Leah. All fours.”

I turned around and felt his hands on my hips, positioning me in front of him. He pressed his hand on my upper back, forcing me down so that my ass was in the air. I was freaking out a little, my nerves and excitement competing for my attention.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked me, his fingers trailing the hem of my pants.

“I’d be more comfortable if you just got it done,” I answered.

He chuckled and started peeling my pants off.

“Fuuuck,” he slowly cursed behind me, and it sounded like half a groan.

All that worrying he wouldn’t like it was for nothing. Thank God. I’d bought the thong today while I’d gone shopping with Marlena. She was in some other aisle, thankfully well out of view, and I had five whole bucks I was willing to blow. When I saw the white thongs hanging there among the others, I wondered if Carter would find me sexy with them on.

I had grabbed them and rushed to the checkout. When they were bought, I shoved them in my purse and met Marlena in the cooking aisle, pretending to give a shit about non-stick frying pans while my thoughts revolved around whether I would look like a squeezed sausage in them, or whether I might actually pull it off.

I quickly learned they weren’t very comfortable, or I just wasn’t used to them yet. They rode up my ass crack and it felt like I was walking around with a wedgie. That’s essentially what they were, though, right? Wedgie makers, that is. I’d have to learn to deal with it if I wanted to get this kind of reaction out of him.

He leaned over me, and I felt his hard chest against my back. His mouth touched the side of my face as his hands gripped my ass.

“Eleven out of ten, gorgeous,” he whispered.

I turned my head to him and smiled. “I’m glad you like it.”

He turned me around just then, so I was flat on my back with him over me. His hand travelled down my legs, tearing the pants off all the way and flinging them to the side. Then he kissed me, simultaneously stroking between my legs, burning me with need.

“You need to go back to your song lyrics,” I told him, my breaths quickening.

“If I went back, I’d be writing about sex, and Harold specifically ordered zero fornication in my lyrics.”

“You can always insinuate it.”

He smiled against my mouth and, in a low, spine tingling voice, sang,

“I want to butter your bread,
with my pointy butter knife.
Til it’s dripping off your bun,
This salty elixir of life.”

I stilled and groaned in dismay. “Oh, my God, that sucked so badly, Carter.”

He laughed. “I never said it would be good!”

“Even calling it bad is a compliment. You should be very embarrassed of yourself.”

“I’m embarrassed for you for even hearing it.”

“Your salty elixir of life?”

“You know, my come –”

“I know what you meant! Don’t… don’t make my ears bleed. Christ.”

“I’m not. You brought it up!”

I laughed and he looked down at me, his eyes sparkling with life. In this moment, he was beyond happy. His smile was large, brightening his face, adding dimples in his cheeks. It was a rarity seeing him like this. I never wanted to forget it.

“Tell me how I can redeem myself then,” he told me, his hand still settled between my legs. I glimpsed down his neck and to his protruding trapezoids. The muscles looked strained along his shoulders, and his large biceps had this sexy ass vein sticking out that, for some weird reason, made it sexier to look at.

“Someone as sexy as you doesn’t need to redeem himself with music,” I told him. “You could sing about tampons and it’d be the best song in the freaking world.”

When he opened his mouth, I immediately clamped it shut with my hand. “And please,” I added sternly, “do
not
sing about tampons.”

His body shook with laughter again. He kissed my hand away and motioned down my body. “I want to redeem myself by sucking your pussy ‘til it’s exploding in my mouth. How about that?”

My heart stopped, went what-the-fuck in my ribcage, and kick-started again. “How about you give me more than your mouth?”

He paused, his eyes boring into mine, realizing exactly what I meant. If ever there were words enough to destroy a fun situation, they were those ones apparently.

“I’m not sure we should go so far,” he whispered to me, pinching his brows together.

“Why? We’ve done everything but.”

“That’s a huge step.”

“For who exactly?”

He just blinked at me, his mouth firmly shut.

“Talk to me, Carter,” I pressed gently, looking deep in his eyes. “Help me understand.”

“I already told you,” he returned solemnly, “I’m a fuck-up, and I’ll find a way to fuck this up. I can’t stand the thought of not having you in my life. I don’t want to ruin you, or us. I like what we are as it is. Sex… would complicate things.”

“But everything else we’ve done hasn’t?”

He sighed, looking about my face thoughtfully. “It’s not all that personal. Sex would be.”

Now I was really struggling to understand. “You’ve had sex with girls before. You told me many times it was never personal.”

“Yeah,” he agreed carefully, stalling a moment before adding, “but sex… with
you
would be.”

There was so much about that statement I wanted to ask. Like, what are you so afraid of? Why don’t you
want
to make it personal?

“Are you worried about me?” I wondered. “You think I’m going to get attached?”

He shrugged. “We’ve practically grown up together. There’s a lot of familiarity there. So it might happen.”

“And that would be bad?”

“Only because you might start wanting more, and I’m not capable of that.”

What made him think he wasn’t capable of that? I stared at him longer, trying to figure him out. There were so many parts of him he’d shut away from me, issues he was obviously facing alone. I wanted him to involve me, bring me into his head where the truth to the way he was lurked.

“What did I say before?” I eventually replied. “I said to trust what I want. I’m a big girl, and after everything I’ve had to go through growing up, don’t you know I’m tough as nails? I can look after myself.”

It took everything in me to sound convincing. He just stared, studying me closely. He opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it, as though he changed his mind. I suddenly wondered what it was we were trying to agree on. I thought we were already friends with benefits. Why did he make it seem like we hadn’t encroached on that territory?

At that point, I didn’t think anything would change if he took it further. He already used his mouth and fingers to make me come, so what if it was his dick this time? It was just another means to get there, right?

“Fuck,” he muttered weakly, his eyes drawn to my mouth when I’d licked it. “You’re so sexy to me, Leah.”

My cheeks warmed and my heart pinched. He leaned down and kissed me, and it was another soul sucking kiss. I lifted my hips against his, telling him with the language of my body that I was not going to settle for another finger rub. I knew all about the condoms he had stuffed in the bathroom cabinet, as if he had considered this would happen too.

He pressed me against the crappy mattress with his upper weight, and I ran my hands down his back, feeling every line and curve of his hard muscles. His hands slipped under my shirt, the warmth of his skin roaming up my body, heating me up instantly. His fingers grazed against the front of my bra, lightly stroking my nipple, and I arched my back for him as he cupped my breast and squeezed gently.

Shit, it was good. I moaned into his mouth and felt his hand move to my back. A second later the pressure of my bra lessened as he unclasped it effortlessly. He broke free from my mouth and lifted my shirt up and over my head. His breath caught in his throat once he threw off my bra and stared down at me in nothing but a thong on.

“Fuck, Leah,” he muttered, dipping his head to my chest. I felt the wet strokes of his tongue around my nipple and I shook at the bolt of pleasure that travelled down my body to my core. He licked down my abdomen, nipping at my hips, and sliding my thong down slowly. A second later, I was completely naked and pulling him by his hair up to me so I could kiss him again. He slipped his tongue into my mouth, stroking it against mine.

My hand drifted down his front, reaching into his pants where he was hard and thick and ready. I palmed his cock and pumped him once, twice, and he quivered above me, breathing harshly against my face. His hips rocked to me with every pump, and he groaned deep in his throat.

“Jesus.” He stared down my body and up at my glazed eyes.

“Take your pants off,” I told him breathlessly.

Oh, my God. This was actually going to happen. I could hardly contain myself.

He went to kick his pants off when the sound of eager knocks broke through the moment. He paused and pulled away.

“No,” I whispered. “Don’t answer.”

“Hey dick-face!” Rome shouted from outside the suite, instantly making me sag into the mattress in defeat. “We’re going out for dinner. You said you were coming, don’t flake out now. Come on, man.”

I glared at Carter. “You promised to go out for dinner?”

He exhaled loudly and shrugged. “Fuckin’ Marlena offered me cookies, a fresh batch of them, Leah, and then I had one and she was being all sweet and shit, inviting us for dinner. What kind of sick fuck says no to going out for dinner after accepting hot cookies on a tray from the sweetest woman ever?”