by Celeste, B.
But it’s fear that has always beat that want away, like I don’t deserve anything more because of what I’ve done with Danny and Easton. I chased them both away, used them in different ways. I used my best friend to try getting him to love me, and I used my roommate to forget that my best friend never could return my feelings. In the process, I lost myself in a mixture of feelings that are too tangled, too interwoven, to decipher anymore. When I see Easton on the off chance he doesn’t avoid me when we’re both home, I no longer see Daniel McCray. I see dark hair and light eyes, and something trapped in his pursed lips and dark demeaner. I see a human like me, broken to some degree and unsure if the pieces will ever fit back together.
When I think of Carter, I think of security. I think of our youth. I remember old times when the only thing I ever had to be sad about was when the boys didn’t include me in whatever they were doing—how Danny would sneak into my downstairs bedroom using the side window and bring me candy to apologize. When I see Carter, I see somebody who knows what he wants and goes after it without hesitation. He’s compassionate enough to help me and caring enough to let me have my time and space to process what we’re doing.
Two men.
Two very different situations.
In a lot of ways, I care about them both. It took one night of drinking to cross a line with Easton, and part of me wonders if that’s why I haven’t let Carter and I do more than we have. If he’s like any human, he’ll want more as we mold our relationship—kissing, sex. It isn’t like I don’t want to have sex with him, every part of me screams that I do. I’m just wary that it’ll change everything in ways I can no longer control.
Suddenly, Jenna’s question becomes second best to the thought of intimacy with the man I’ve grown close to. I think about his spicy scent and his gentle hands and his warm eyes as they comfort me with a single look. I know that I would enjoy sleeping with him if my mind would take a step back from overanalyzing it.
Just as soon as the thought of us together crosses my mind, heat blossoms between my thighs. I squirm in my seat as my phone chirps that I’m nearing my destination. Gripping the steering wheel, I twist my palms and wonder what Easton would say. Then again, he already thinks I’m sleeping with Carter.
Why should I care?
Eye twitching, I turn into the driveway of a decent-size white and brick house. Parking my car in front of the closed garage like he told me, I examine the black shutters and wooden door leading inside. A cement pathway leads from the driveway to the entrance, and green flowering bushes line the front of the house. From here, I can see the outline of a fenced-in backyard and know it’s perfect for his dog, probably a reason why he chose it in the first place. It’s quaint and exactly what I’d imagine for Carter.
My phone buzzes after I unplug it from the charger, a text from my best friend displayed on the screen.
Jenna: Stay the night ;)
Blinking, I lick my lips and power off my phone so there’s no distractions. I know she has things handled at home. Ainsley will be fine, Easton’s been staying out later and later, and all that matters in this moment is that I let myself admit what I want.
My face heats.
I want Carter Ford.
Getting out of my car, I wipe off my clammy palms on the front of my blue jeans and take a deep breath before knocking on his front door. A dog barking in the background has me stepping back as Carter scolds him, opening the door.
“Piper,” he greets, his usual warm smile gracing his face. Instead of his typical button down and dress pants, he’s in jeans and a tee shirt. Casual but sexy. He gestures for me to come in, stepping aside so I can pass him. I see his dog, Cap, standing outside the kitchen, his tail wagging hesitantly. “Cap’s a big brute. He acts tough but he’s sweet. You’ll see.”
Carter closes the door and brushes a chaste kiss against my cheek before grabbing ahold of my hand and bringing me into the kitchen. Whatever he’s cooking smells delicious and watching him check the pan positioned in the oven and stir what’s in one of the pots on the stovetop has me biting my bottom lip in awe.
“It smells good,” I compliment quietly.
“I’m making lemon chicken pasta.” He puts the lid onto the pot and turns to me, asking if I want anything to drink. I just shake my head and notice his dog peeking out from the narrow hall off the kitchen. “She won’t bite, Cap. You can come out.”
I fight a smile as his dog pads over to him, looking at me with a tilted head. Wiggling my fingers over the horse-sized creature and then reaching my hand out to let him sniff me, he takes a few steps forward before his tongue darts out. It doesn’t take long before we’re buddies, his body not leaving my side as I pet him while Carter continues to cook.
“How was the drive over?” he asks.
My thoughts still linger from earlier, the back of my neck heating. I fight off the blush that wants to creep into my cheeks and think I manage to do so. “It was fine. Traffic was busy.”
“Weekend traffic is usually heavier.”
Our small talk lasts until he’s putting our food together, sprinkling garnish on top of the two plates of pasta and chicken. My mouth waters at the sight of it, but not as much as when he looks at me and says, “I like you standing in my house.”
Not expecting those words, I swallow down my surprise. His eyes pierce the dressy buttoned maroon blouse I chose to pair with my looser skinny jeans, traveling down my body like he’s memorizing this moment when I’m in his space. Not his classroom, not his office, and not some public restaurant far enough from campus where people can’t ask questions, but close enough to home where it doesn’t feel like hiding.
Being in his house feels intimate. Him cooking me dinner feels domesticated. Everything about the way he takes me in as I stand in his personal bubble jumpstarts my heart. We lock eyes when he finally finds his gaze back on my face, and I’m not sure what gets into me. A lot. Nothing at all.
I’m conflicted.
About life.
About love.
About them.
I walk over to him and place one of my palms over his beating heart, feeling his body heat radiate into my skin from where it rests on his soft cotton shirt. He looks down at me, his eyes heating as I step closer until he presses a hand into my lower back, pressing us closer together.
He says my name quietly as I stand on my tiptoes and brush my lips against his. It’s timid, unsure, barely lasting a few seconds before I draw away and watch his reaction. One of his hands cups my cheek, his thumb caressing my bottom lip, as his other hand finds my hip. When he bends down to meet my lips, there’s nothing unsure in the way he kisses me.
His lips are firm yet soft as they explore mine, deepening the kiss when he angles my head to the side. Teasing the seam of my lips with his tongue, I open for him and relish in the taste of his favorite sweet tea. My arms go around his neck as I nip his bottom lip and thread my fingers into his short hair. He makes a sound that I mirror as the hand on my cheek slowly trails down my side until it rests on my other hip, his fingertips kneading at the denim covering me.
I pull him closer, my pelvis arching into his until I feel him harden. He groans and I shiver, goosebumps covering my skin as he kisses me without reserve. Holding me to him, I soak up the feeling. Nobody can catch us, can scold us, can threaten us with punishment for having this moment. I blissfully absorb it all.
His hands.
His tongue.
His lips.
It feels like forever before we pull away, his forehead resting on mine, his lips swollen from my teeth. My eyes are closed as I catch my breath, the air mingling with our short pants. I lick my lips before grazing them softly against his again before he chooses to pull away first.
The look in his eyes is full of heat and lust and I know what he wants. He smiles and brushes the pad of his thumb against my lip. “What was that for?”
I swallow. “I just wanted to.”
My words must affect him because his eyes
flare as he gives me a quick peck that barely lingers despite his expression darkening, like he wants it to. He steps away and grabs the plates rather than expecting anything more. It’s because of that consideration, paired with the way my lips tingle and body heats, that I want it so much more. But we don’t rush the dinner he made as we eat at the table and talk about anything we want to.
Jesse.
My parents.
His father.
Mr. Ford has always been a kind man, more so after his wife passed away. Despite his loss, he did everything in his power to raise Carter the way he deserved to be raised. He passed on his values and morals. And every single day of his hard work being a single parent is one I admire ten times more now after hearing the financial struggles they had growing up. His father worked multiple jobs to make ends meet, not that anybody would have known it. He was there for Carter when Carter needed him, going to any function or event for his son. It’s clear to see in the way Carter speaks of his father that he loves him.
In return, I tell him all about Ainsley and her condition, the struggles of school, the strength I see in her, and how much it hurts to see her cry when she thinks I’m not looking. He already knows my love for her is the strongest love I can ever have, and how much I love Danny for giving me that feeling through the little girl he loved most too. The more I talk about her, the more tears well in my eyes.
We’re on the couch with Cap at our feet when I let one of the tears slip past the barrier and stream down my cheek.
He holds my hand in his, resting them on what little space is between us on the cushion. “She’s an amazing little girl, isn’t she?”
“The best,” I whisper, clearing my throat so the raspy tone fades. “She gets it from both of her parents. Willow—did you meet her?” He shakes his head. “Danny told me from the day they met that he knew she was it for him. She came from a rough background and fought for everything she had. I think Ainsley gets a lot of her spirit from her mom.”
He squeezes our hands. “Danny was a lot like that too.” I nod in agreement. “You don’t have to punish yourself like I know you’re doing. What happened to him isn’t your fault, Piper.”
I’ve told myself that hundreds of times over when I reach a low point, and most of the time I believe it. But like Carter has said before, we’re human. And humanity comes with weakness and self-doubt that brings people down the second they’re trapped inside their own mind.
I stare at our hands. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me. While I wasn’t behind the wheel, or the one who created the storm, I was the one who chased him away.”
He stares in confusion.
“I thought I loved him.” I draw in a breath, finally admitting aloud what nobody knows. Not even Jenna. “I thought he finally realized he loved me that night, but it was a moment of weakness for him. And as soon as—” I choke on the words, struggling to catch my breath as more tears fill my eyes. “As soon as he realized what we’d done, he couldn’t even look at me. He said it was a mistake, Carter.”
Sympathy instantly clouds his eyes. “Oh, Piper. I didn’t know.”
Letting go of his hand, I swipe furiously at my cheeks and force myself to breathe. I close my eyes and count to five, opening them only when I’m calmer. “I think about that night all the time. Not because I’d slept with him, but because I knew it was a mistake. It hurt when he told me that, it hurt when he stormed out, but nothing hurts more than knowing he was right. And the worst part? I couldn’t tell him that.”
Before I know it, I’m wrapped in his arms. He cradles me, but no tears come out to stain his soft shirt. He just holds me in silence, letting me seek the comfort I need in his warmth. I wrap my arms around him, squeezing my eyes shut and realizing the weight on my chest is no longer there holding me down.
I breathe deeper. Easier.
When I open my eyes, I pull back and stare at him. His image is clear, his eyes warm and lips neutral. I cup his cheek like he did with me, his stubble rough under my palm. I explore his face, trace the scar on his skin, and feel the slight laugh lines that tells me he’s had a good life. I wonder if I’ll have those same lines when I’m older or if it’s too late.
But the truth is… “I’ve had a good life.” He lets me touch him without making his own move. “I just wish Danny was still alive to keep enjoying his.”
His eyes soften. “I know you do, Piper.”
I lick my lips and lean forward into his, resting mine against his mouth without moving. Closing my eyes, I feel his breath and get wrapped in the caress of his essence. “You’re a good man, Carter Ford.” Each word brushes our lips together, and I search for the feeling I’ve had only once before.
And it wasn’t with Danny.
His intake of breath as I trail my hands down the front of his shirt and dip them under gives my confidence a boost. I feel the planes of his firm stomach and trace the lines of his abdominal muscles until I trail them up, up, up along with his shirt. When my hands rest on the wiry hair of his chest, he opens his eyes and looks at me in question.
“Are you sure?”
I answer him with a kiss, tangling my tongue with his slowly and pulling at the article of clothing I want off him. He breaks loose enough to tug it off in one swift pull before kissing me again, drawing my bottom lip into his mouth and suckling. I move my palms up and down his chest before sliding them down to the waistband of his jeans and dipping my finger inside.
He curses and pulls away. “You first.” His voice is raspy as he slowly works at the buttons on the blouse I wear until each one is undone. His large palms trace my curves before peeling the material away and leaving me in my cream bra. His eyes take in the lace covering my small breasts before he moves to kiss my jaw, my neck, and collarbone. Moving one of the straps out of the way so his mouth can continue over my exposed skin, his other hand fumbles with the hooks at the back until they let loose and the garment falls from my body. He moves my discarded clothes to the living room floor, taking in my bare chest the same way I do his.
Prickles of heat nip at the back of my neck as his hands reach out and cup my breasts, weighing them in his hand as he bends down and kisses me again. Our tongues sweep each other’s mouths as he plays with my pebbled nipples until I’m moaning and gripping his upper arms.
“Please,” I whisper against his lips.
He flicks his tongue in my mouth and lowers down my body, trailing kisses from the valley between my breasts, down my stomach, nipping just below my belly button, before slowly undoing the button and zipper of my jeans. They’re not tight, so they come off easily as he pulls them down my thighs, his eyes raising before he dips his fingers into the band of my panties asking for silent permission to take them off until I’m bare on his couch.
I nod.
In a matter of seconds, I’m completely exposed. I’m tempted to cover myself with the throw blanket next to me but I see the way lust burns in his eyes as he runs a hand up my stomach and kisses up one of my thighs. His palm gently pushes me down so I’m lying on my back as he spreads my legs out in front of him. My head tips as he gets closer to where I ache, his teeth biting the inside of my leg until they stop just before my slit.
“I want this, Carter.” My breathy words are all he needs before his tongue does a first swipe over the length of me, from clit to entrance, and a gasped breath escapes my lips as I mewl out when he does it again. My fingers go to the top of his head, tangling in his hair as he spreads me and sucks my clit into his mouth.
I curse him, praise him, and feel my insides burn with yearning as his tongue plays with me in every way that my body needs. My thighs open wider for him to adjust his wide shoulders between them as he kneels on the carpet and works me skillfully with his mouth. I hold onto his hair as he licks me with purpose, working my entrance with his tongue until I’m writhing and arching and holding his face where I need him to be.
Legs shaking, I dig my fingertips into his scalp and grind into him as his tongu
e pushes into me. One of his fingers slides toward where his mouth is, playing with the arousal that he’s created before entering me slowly as his tongue trails back to my clit. My eyes flutter closed as a second finger enters me, pumping, arching, and building me higher and higher. His movements are slow, calculated, and he doesn’t stop until I’m barely able to pant his name in choppy pleas. My hips arch into him, riding out the wave of pleasure coursing through my body as he picks up the pace with his fingers and nips my clit until I can’t hold back.
Moaning his name, he keeps his fingers arched inside me through my orgasm, waiting until I come down before pulling them out and standing up. He hooks an arm around my waist, puts one behind the back of my legs, and cradles me to him as he takes us through the hallway past his kitchen. I hold onto him, legs numb from the high I’m coming down from, and bury my face into his chest and breathe in his spicy scent while licking and biting his flesh.
He carries us to his bedroom, using his foot to close the door behind him so Cap can’t come in. I don’t take time to look around the large room or note just how soft his dark bedding is under me when he gently lays me down. All I focus on is the way he confidently strips in front of me, not once looking away from our locked gazes. I’m transfixed by his toned torso and his lean waist. His arms perfectly rounded with muscle from the boxing he does at the Rec Center, his thighs lean and muscular, and his length too impressive to miss as it springs from his tight blue boxer briefs that slide down him until he’s naked too.
When he crawls up the bed and hovers over my body, I swallow and position my legs so he can fit between them. He’s broader than Easton, more toned from all his workouts. The way he towers over me and studies my expression isn’t with the same intensity though, and I’m not sure how to take it.
His eyes are dark with lust, but lighter with something else. Care. Genuine care. And I feel as much when he leans down and kisses me, brushing our lips together in tender kisses as he feels down my body and holds me. Sinking lower onto his forearms, his tongue sweeps my bottom lip until we’re exploring each other’s mouths again, making out and touching and breathing in the other. I flick my tongue against the roof of his mouth, he nibbles my bottom lip, and his cock hardens against my stomach between us.