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I am so turned on right now, standing close to him, I can’t think straight. His hands find my waist again, where his fingers run up and down my bare skin, making it prickle with heat. The way we act around each other is like infatuated teenagers.
How can I be so comfortable in his presence, when I know I should be anything but?
“I’m just looking at your tattoos,” I answer, my hands skimming over his bare torso. The electricity between the two of us right now is off the charts. I swear I can feel it sparking with each touch we exchange.
“Hmmm, which one caught your eye?” There are many, so I could easily fib, but I want to be honest with him.
“This one.” I trace the letters that are painted across his chest.
“Mmmm, I like your hands on my body way too much, Cat,” he says, his tone filled with gravel, and as our eyes meet again, I feel myself burning up under his gaze.
“Who’s Clara?” I ask nervously, as my eyes moving from the tattoo to his eyes to gauge his reaction.
“It was my mother’s name,” he answers honestly, and my heart breaks for the young boy Carter was.
“It’s a beautiful name,” I say in a whisper as I look back at the tattoo. He keeps his features schooled, but I can see a twitch in his jaw.
“So you ran away from me pretty fast the other day. Why is that?” Each caress of his hands against my bare waist has me melting into him.
“I didn’t run...” I lie, building the courage to give him the truth.
“Are you scared of me?” he asks, his eyes now inquisitive, his hands remaining steady.
“No. Not at all,” I rush to assure him, still trying to find the right words. His brows furrow in question, and I reach up and smooth the line between them, my fingers trailing down his cheek. That action is all it takes to confirm how soft he really is, under all this muscle. Maybe just for me, but he is. I feel him relax as he holds me, his gaze searching but patient.
He doesn’t move, doesn’t push for my answer… and that’s what has my words flowing.
“I probably should be,” I say, pausing to look into his eyes not straying from mine. He is steady, solid, simply waiting for me to say what I need to say.
“I shouldn’t even be thinking about you. But I do,” I whisper my admission, and I feel his hands caressing my skin once more.
“God, Carter… you are all I have been thinking about.” He swallows roughly at my admission, his hands gripping me tight.
“You work with the god damn mob. I am a single mother… I have a daughter to worry about. My career is taking off… being involved with a man like you…” I pause for a moment as I stare into his eyes, and he still waits, hearing me out without interruption.
“It is a risk…” His jaw clenches slightly, and my fingers automatically find his hair and massage his scalp.
“...but I know you would never hurt me, Carter…” I whisper, looking at his lips. God, I really wanting them on mine.
I should stay away, but I can’t. I feel like I am totally sucked into his orbit and want nothing more than him. Right here, right now.
“I’m not scared of you, Carter. Not even a little.” His stare has me breathless, and before I can even think of pressing my lips to his, he lifts me up and slams me onto the mat. A move he trained us on tonight, and catching me totally unawares.
I let out a squeal before he chuckles, looking down at me, his eyes searing into my skin. One of his hands holds his weight above me, the other one meeting my bare skin on my stomach, where his fingers trail up and down my side. The way he touches me, looks at me, it’s like he wants to discover all of me, bit by bit. Internally, I beg him to.
“I’m not a good man, Cat,” he repeats what he’s already told me. As his face grows more serious, I feel the tension leave his body, so I strike.
“Yaaaaaa!” I yell as I move swiftly into position and maneuver us so that I am now on top of him. I am sure he could have stopped me, but he didn’t. Now I sit straddling him, my hands resting on his bare chest, and his firmly wrapped around my waist.
“You’re playing with fire, Cat,” he says in a low growl, warning me again, but I don’t heed his words.
“So what are you going to do about it, then?” I sass, flicking my eyes to his lips and back to his eyes in time to see the hunger in them.
“This.” He grabs me around the neck and pulls me to him, sitting up and meeting me halfway, as he crashes his lips onto mine.
17
Carter
