Page 11 of Unraveled

Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she clutched at the back of his head and pulled him to her. His lips fused with hers as he made his way down the hallway toward her bedroom like he’d done this hundreds of times before.

The thought froze her for a moment. He’d probably done this very same thing, more times than he could count. He was successful and gorgeous; what woman would turn him down?

But she had no claim on him. Shoving the irrational jealousy and disappointment away, she fell into the kiss and allowed the pleasure to pull her under.

She didn’t realize they’d reached her room until his arms loosened around her and the cool fabric of the sheets grazed her back. Propping a knee between her legs, he levered himself over her, caging her in his arms. She curled her fingers around the lapels of his shirt and nipped at his bottom lip as he started to pull away.

He returned the favor, capturing her lower lip between perfect white teeth. She arched upward, needing to feel every hard inch of him against her. He obliged by settling his heavy weight in the cradle of her hips. Her hands wandered down his spine and beneath the hem of his shirt, exploring the hot flesh of his lower back.

A low whimper left her mouth when he lifted away from her again, and he let out a strained chuckle. “Right here, babe. I’m not going anywhere.”

His fingers skimmed over the outside of her thighs then slipped beneath the waistband of her pants. Thank God for yoga pants. The stretchy black material gave way as he yanked it downward, and she shimmied her hips free. They landed on the floor with a whisper, but his eyes never left her.

Clad only in her underwear, she shifted under the scrutiny. “What?”

His intense stare was broken by a single blink. “You’re so beautiful.”

Her cheeks heated, the compliment warming her to the tips of her toes. She’d never been considered beautiful. As tall as most men, she was lean and willowy, resembling a teenage boy more than the mature woman she was. She lacked the curves other women seemed to have in abundance, and she’d agonized over her nonexistent breasts for years.

Scott had told her more than once it didn’t matter to him, but she’d caught him ogling women with huge boobs more than once when they were out at bars and restaurants. Turned out it had mattered more than he’d let on. Libby had a perfect pair of lab-manufactured double-Ds, something she was sure he very much appreciated.

She gave a shaky laugh. “I think you might be biased.”

“Not even a little.” He brushed a strand of hair from her face with such care it nearly undid her. “I’ve thought that since the day we met.”

Her breath caught.

“Do you know how hard it’s been staying away from you this past year?”

She stared up at him, her chest tightening.

“But I kept my distance. I told myself wanting you didn’t matter.” His thumb brushed gently along her cheekbone. “Nothing’s stopping me now.”

Emotion swelled so suddenly in her chest she could barely breathe around it.

Carter leaned down and kissed her slowly, tenderly, as though he had all the time in the world. There was no urgency in it—only warmth, affection, and months of restrained longing finally set free. Audrey melted beneath the touch, her hands curling against his shirt as the ache she’d carried for so long began to loosen.

For once, she stopped thinking. Stopped worrying. Stopped running.

She simply let herself be loved.

And as Carter kissed her again, whispering her name like something precious, Audrey allowed herself to be swept away by the bliss of it.

CHAPTER

SIX

Audrey blinked her eyes open and stretched as the morning sun slid over the windowsill, spilling its golden glow over the dark wood floor. Her muscles were deliciously sore and well-used, courtesy of the man whose body heat was radiating off him in waves next to her.

She tossed a glance over her shoulder and grinned at the image of him sprawled out. One arm thrown over the pillow above his head, face relaxed while he slept, he was so beautiful it made her heart hurt to look at him. His eyes were closed, but she knew those brown irises, the color of strong, dark coffee, could warm her from the inside out. A faint dark stubble had sprouted over his jaw, and she ached to trace the chiseled contour.

Over the last—she glanced at the clock on the nightstand—fourteen hours, they had alternated between making love and talking about everything and nothing. Sometime in the middle of the night, she had woken up to find him between her legs, his mouth on her most intimate place. It was a shame she couldn’t wake up that way more often.

Her smile slipped away, and longing and regret pulled at her as she stared at him. She had truly enjoyed their time together last night—but that was all it could ever be. Technically, she was still married—even if it was only for another few weeks. She knew Scott had moved on long ago, but she couldn’t do the same. No way would she throw herself back into that fire. This one moment, this one delicious indiscretion, would have to be enough.

Sliding from the bed, she picked her way around the clothes that Carter had so shamelessly ripped off yesterday afternoon and over the pizza box that lay discarded by the chair. They had left the bed yesterday evening just long enough to answer the door, then made a picnic of sorts on top of the sheets before he had tossed the box aside and pulled her beneath him once more.

He had made good on his promise, too—they had used every single condom he brought with him. Her skin heated at the thought of the things he had done, the things they had done. Jesus. She pressed her palms to her cheeks and closed her eyes as her chest rose on a rapid inhale. He had touched literally every inch of her, places that even Scott had never dared.