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“I’m just going to change into something,” I tell Carter as he follows me into my room. “You know, something…”
Carter’s half-smile returns. “Sexy, I’m assuming.”
“Yes,” I say. “Sexy. Absolutely.”
“Yeah, okay. Unnecessary, but whatever you want. I’ll be waiting,” he says, voice so husky I nearly abandon my surprise and strip right in front of him.
But a promise is a promise, so I nod and head into my closet, shutting the door behind me. In front of me, there are racks and racks of cardigans, fit-and-flare skirts, and more than one plaid sweater.
And lingerie? Ha. It’s nonexistent. The sexiest bra I find has a hole through the lace.
“I am so unprepared for this,” I murmur to myself, digging frantically through my underwear drawer.
There has to be something in here that I can use.
Then I find it. My saving grace. My only option. I slip it on, and then, before Carter can second-guess this whole thing, I emerge from the closet.
“Ta-da!” I declare, leaning awkwardly against the closet doorframe. In my mind, I like to think it’s a sexy lean, but I’ve gotta be realistic.
Carter’s already on the bed, shoes off, leaning against the headboard watching me with amusement. Which isn’t exactly the expression you want when you’ve put on your sexiest clothing and assumed the doorframe pose.
“Is that… a bathing suit?” Carter asks, clearly unable to hold back his disbelief.
A weaker woman might admit defeat, but I’m committed to seeing Carter naked tonight so I’m digging in.
“I don’t have any ‘hot girl’ underwear,” I explain, doing a little shimmy in the doorway, “but I’ve got this two-piece, and that’s practically the same thing!”
Carter just stares at me, rubbing a hand over his mouth, and I think that I’ve definitely fucked this up.
“It’s red,” I explain. “Both sexy and holiday-appropriate.”
“It is that.” Carter nods in agreement, but I think he’s holding back a laugh.
I blush. “Look, you can have the two-piece, or you get nothing.”
He’s definitely grinning now, but he stands and he doesn’t head for the door. He heads straight for me, taking my hand and tugging me into his arms.
“You strike a hard bargain, sprite,” he says, running his finger along my jaw. “But as much as I love the bikini, I think I’ll choose nothing.”
I shiver as he kisses my neck, the stubble on his chin causing me to shiver. His lips are warm as he kisses his way down until he reaches the edge of my suit, so dangerously close to my nipple.
“I—I might be able to support that choice,” I say, stammering over the words as his thumb tweaks my nipple while his tongue skims the line where the fabric touches my skin.
“You think so?” Carter asks, one of his hands skimming my waist, his fingertip running a soft trail along the waistband of my bathing suit. I gasp as his hand slides over my ass and then he’s lifted me off my feet and, just as quickly, dropped me onto the bed.
This is happening.
“You have too many clothes on,” I tell him as he moves on top of me. “You should fix that.”
“Well, I didn’t bring my swim trunks,” he replies, lips on my neck. “So you’d have to settle for me wearing nothing.”
I gasp as he tugs my swimsuit top down. The move’s quick, and before I can say a word, he’s captured a nipple in his mouth, sucking hard as he slips his hand into my swimsuit bottom, one finger parting me and teasing my entrance.
And oh, my God. The dual sensations make it hard for me to think, let alone comprehend what’s happening. Because somehow, Carter Sheppard’s in my bedroom. And he’s touching me in ways I didn’t dream were possible.
But one thing needs to change, and stat.
“Clothes off,” I pant, tugging at his sweater with my hands.
He ceases both the movements of his mouth and his hand, unfortunately, but he makes up for it by rising enough to pull the sweater over his head. And, oh, my. Holy sweet gods of baseball, he’s got exactly the kind of body you’d expect a professional athlete to have. He’s got the kind of abs normally only seen on romance covers, and let’s face it, those are likely photoshopped. But Carter is real, and half naked, and in my bed.
I touch them to make sure they’re real, tracing a dusting of dark hair that runs a trail into his jeans—
Oh, my.
Oh, my—
Normally I’m not at a loss for words what with the librarian gig, but Carter just took off his pants and is it possible for a dick to be in good shape?
“Um,” I mumble, because no wonder he’s got women lining up for him. Holy huge.
Carter laughs at the expression on my face, working my swimsuit bottoms over my hips while I lift my ass off the bed to assist him. I realize I should have given more thought to how difficult bathing suits are, even when dry, as I wrestle the top the rest of the way off.
