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He groaned as the fireworks exploded between our bodies. My skin transmitted the slick cool feel of his tux to the rest of my body.
“You sure, Zoe? I don’t want to rush—”
“I do,” I said. “I really want to rush into this.”
We turned, his arm a mantle around my shoulders as we stepped to the curb where he got a cab in record time.
He was a magician, I thought, and couldn’t wait until he got those magic hands on me.
After opening the taxi door, he bent to me and helped me into the backseat. I felt every inch of his body against mine and the hormones roared to life and every cell in my being wanted Carter.
Craved Carter.
“Perkins Road,” he said to the cabbie.
The door slammed shut behind him and the car took off into the night.
Holy Crap. I’m really doing this. I am going to have sex with Carter.
“I had no idea you lived there,” I babbled, nerves making a fool of me. I was going to get naked in front of a lover for the first time in a very, very long time and I no longer had my dancer’s body. “Is that a house? Or a condo? I’ve seen the condos around there. Very nice—”
His fingertips brushed my cheek, and I lost all my breath, just deflated against the cracked plastic seat beneath me.
“You’re beautiful when you’re nervous,” he whispered, his words like sparks against my skin.
Our eyes caught and held and the fire between us exploded into flames.
His thumb pressed down on my lower lip, touching my tongue, and I licked his thumb into my mouth.
“Zoe,” he whispered, his fingers cradling my cheek, and the heat between my legs grew damp.
I bit the pad of his thumb, licked it in apology, and his lips parted and drew a ragged breath.
Power, I thought. I have such power. It had been a long time since I’d been drunk, but this was so much better than that.
In this together, he’d said, and I didn’t doubt it. Right now, the whole world could go up in flames and we wouldn’t notice. Wouldn’t care.
All that mattered was this man’s touch, his fingers and the pulse of my flesh.
“Ah…we’re here?” the cabbie said and I jerked away, but Carter gripped my hand, keeping me present and with him. The world didn’t matter, his touch said. They can think what they want. He tossed the cabbie a couple of bills and pulled me out of the cab.
We stepped out onto the curb, and I barely had a chance to take in the handsome condo complex, one of the new developments on Perkins Road. All windows and brick. No plants or flowers. Not a curtain in a window.
So like him. Unreadable, sort of. Closed off. Handsome, but cold.
Don’t care, I reminded myself. Don’t start counting all the ways this man could hurt you.
“Zoe?” he said, “are you—”
I kissed him, throwing myself against the strength of his body. My hands wove into his hair and gripped it in my fists.
He moaned and pulled me as close as he could, as if he were trying to tuck me into his skin. His arms, so wide and big, felt like bands across my back. And his lips. His lips were delicious. Salty and sweet. Better than salsa and ginger cookies. Better even, than Frayley’s beignets.
His hands gripped the silk of the dress, and as his lips parted the kiss started to spin someplace dark. Exciting.
His tongue licked me, his lips sucked at me and the heat that had cooled with my doubts exploded inside me all over again, sharp and painful. A brutal awareness of my skin, of every pleasure center, clamored to be dealt with.
I wanted to do filthy things with this man. Gorge myself on sex and Carter.
“Hey,” I whispered. “I…um…can you?”
“Can I what?”
“It’s the hormones,” I said, like it was a warning.
“You want to roll me in caramel sauce?”
Oh, that sounded good. That sounded so good.
“Just spill it, Zoe.”
“Can you be…kinky?”
His smile split open the night. “Try me,” he whispered, and swung me into his arms.
12
CARTER
I was nervous. Like a virgin. I wished I could blame it on the pregnancy – having never had sex with a pregnant woman before and not wanting to hurt her - but I knew, deep down, I was nervous because this was Zoe. Zoe in my arms, Zoe in my bed. In my house.
I hadn’t done this in a long time, brought a woman home. It had grown too personal and I couldn’t concentrate wondering what they were seeing when they looked at my things.
But not Zoe. Zoe had already seen so much of me. What would looking at some art, or my dirty kitchen, possibly change?
I set Zoe down and unlocked the door, pushed it open and then closed it behind us. It was dark in my house, warm, and it felt like the night was a part of us. I could feel her in the air, as if she were electricity.
