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“Y–y–yes.” If he’d been looking me in the eye, I don’t know if I would’ve been able to admit that. But with the tip of his tongue teasing over the shell of my ear, I couldn’t lie if I wanted to. He rewards me with another kiss, and his free hand grips my hip, squeezing the flesh there more sharply than my neck, and I squirm, delighting in his touch.

“You like it rough? Want me to bend you over this counter and take you from behind with one hand on your ass and one on your throat while I slam into your pussy?” He lays sweet kisses over my face as he asks the filthy question, painting a picture I won’t soon forget.

It reminds me of the way he spoke when we faked sex, and it sounds amazing, sexy and wonderful. But I’ve never done that, and I need a second to think.

“I–I–I don’t know?”

That’s not the answer Carter’s looking for, and the moment of craziness breaks. His hand gentles on my throat as he presses his forehead to mine, moving his head left to right as though he can’t believe he kissed me.

“You’re a lifesaver.” He sighs, the tension palpable between us.

“I am?” I whisper, wishing he were still kissing me. Which is weird because I don’t even like Carter Harrington. At least not in that way.

But my body sure does. I’m vibrating with heat and want.

His thumbs brushes over my cheeks, and he pulls away, leaving warm traces on my skin that tingle without his touch. His hands run through his hair, mussing the strands even more, and his eyes take on the desperate glint once again as the haze of our kiss fades.

“It’s all fucked up. So fucked. And I need your help, Luna. You said you’ll help.”

He’s desperately reminding me, as though I haven’t been paying attention since he came in. “I will, but with what? What’s going on?”

“You’re not gonna believe this. I still don’t.” He tells me about his day at work and how his dad has taken over wooing Elena Cartwright for Blue Lake Assets.

“That’s your contract, though.” I’m defending him as though I’ll benefit in some way from his getting the deal with Elena.

“I know, but nobody argues with Dad. He thinks he’s doing the right thing. I spent the whole evening going over it, looking for any way around him or a way I could get Elena to sign without a family dinner. But there’s no way.” He shakes his head vacantly, his mind not here in the kitchen with me but likely going over the options he’s already considered and rejected.

“Now what?” I ask, trying to fill in this very unclear picture. “Do you need to call Elena?”

His eyes meet mine and he says flatly, “I did.” Adding in a high-pitched voice I think is supposed to be Elena, he says, “She was completely delighted to be invited to dinner, said she’s looking forward to meeting the man in charge of Blue Lake, and the fella who taught me how to work an investment portfolio.” He shrugs, blinking as he does so. “I didn’t tell her that I learned a lot from Dad, but it was really Professor Malkin in college who taught me the most about diversified portfolios.”

“So she’s coming to dinner. That’s good, isn’t it?”

I’m trying to keep up with his manic switches from ranting to kissing me and back to ranting, while consciously ignoring the heat between my legs. Carter stops pacing and pins me with a hard stare. “She said she’s looking forward to dinner with us again. Us, as in you and me.”

Finally, I realize why he’s freaking out because I begin freaking out worse than he is. I hop down from the counter, brushing past Carter as I look for an escape that my small apartment doesn’t provide. “No way, nope, nuh-uh, not doing that again.”

“You have to. You already said you’d help me,” he informs me, seemingly thinking I’ve forgotten my response from mere minutes ago.

Trust me, bucko. I won’t be forgetting anything about tonight.

“Help you? I thought you meant like you wanted me to go over art with you some more!” I can hear how ridiculous that sounds once I say it aloud, but I can’t sit with sweet old Elena Cartwright and lie to her again. I feel guilty enough as it is.

“Please,” Carter begs, making puppy dog eyes at me. “There’s no other way. I’ve been over it again and again.” He huffs a bitter laugh. “Believe me, I’ve looked from every angle, from the KISS solutions to the ridiculous. None of them will work.”

Plopping down onto my couch, I cover up with the blanket there, needing to put barriers between us after what just happened. I can’t tell him no when I can still taste the beer from his kiss. “Can’t you tell her I’m busy that night or something?”

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