My face burns and I’m filled with a yearning so intense, a small whimper escapes me, imagining Carson’s big cock filling me from behind, his body crushing mine. And I lift my hips again. As far as I can, which isn’t much.
“Jesus.” And with a thrust of his pelvis, he grinds me harder into the carpet.
I can’t breathe. The air is pressed out of my lungs. “Carson.”
His mouth grazes my cheek. Was that a kiss? What are we doing?
I guess he wonders the same, because suddenly, he rolls off me, leaving me a limp pancake gasping for air. Flat on his back on the floor beside me, he closes his eyes. I study his face: his rock-hard jaw, flushed cheeks, and thick eyelashes.
“I’m sorry,” he grates out.
I swallow and wet my lips. “I’m sorry, too.”
He cracks open an eye and looks at me. “Are you?”
I blink. He knows me too well. “No.”
The corners of his mouth twitch. “Dammit, Ayla.”
I fold an arm under my cheek. “I didn’t do anything wrong.” Okay, that’s an egregious lie. I drank all the rum-laced hot chocolate, nearly fell over a cliff, and then tried to challenge him to a boxing match. “Fine. I’m sorry I drank all the rum.”
“Are you still drunk?”
“That’s a hard question to answer right now.” My mind is definitely befuddled.
He sits up and gets to his feet, then grabs my hand, pulling me up, too. His strength has always turned me on. “You need food.”
“Oh. What time is it?”
“Nearly seven. Did you even have lunch?”
“I grabbed a sandwich after my meeting with Norm.”
“Well, that’s something at least. Come on.” He grabs my jacket and hands it to me.
I can’t help but feel disappointed. Unsatisfied. But holy mother of God in a raincoat, I’m lusting over my ex-husband. That is fucked up.
I need an emergency phone call to my therapist. But that will have to wait until tomorrow.
* * *
Yes, it’s awkward as we get dinner, eating in the café. Then we return to the cottage and it’s even more painful. I don’t want to meet Carson’s eyes and our conversation is stilted. Now we have to spend another night together.
I get out my laptop and pretend to review party plans while Carson turns on the TV and clicks through the few channels available here. He stops on what appears to be some kind of documentary, which is just his thing. I tune it out as I replay earlier events in my head. This was not what I expected when I asked Carson to come with me.
I glance at the TV and my chin jerks down when I see a naked couple in a forest. “What on earth are you watching?”
Carson shakes his head and turns off the TV. “It’s a show about a non-profit organization that raises money to support ecology and nature protection.”
Perplexed, I gaze at the black television screen. “Um… how do they raise money?”
“Some comes from donors. But they post videos and pictures and people pay to watch them.”
“Videos of…”
He sticks his tongue into his cheek. “Sex.”
“So it’s basically porn. But for a good cause.”
