“Good?”
She covers her mouth with her hand. “Oh my word, James. This is the best I’ve ever had. Ever.”
I smile at her words, more than pleased that she likes my cooking.
“What’s in it?” she asks coyly.
I roll my eyes but tell her anyway. Because I love this game.
“Well, first I cut the flank steak into strips.”
“Mm-hmm?” She rests her elbow on the table and leans toward me. “How… thick?”
“Nice and thick,” I say in a low voice and wink at her. “Next, I heated up the oil.”
She waggles her eyebrows. “Oh… oil, huh? Then did you sear the meat?”
“Oh, talk dirty to me, baby,” I growl.
She giggles as I stand up and bend toward her and kiss her on the lips. As much as I would love to continue, I want her to eat. I’ve been looking forward to having her in my space for me to cook for her for a long time now.
“Eat.” I smile and point to her food.
“It really is delicious. Thank you for making my favorite.”
“My pleasure, sweetheart.”
We finish our meal, talking and laughing, enjoying our evening of quiet and alone. I stand up to clear the table, and even though I tell her I can do it on my own, she joins me, washing the pans and loading the dishwasher side by side.
“Dessert?” I ask her, holding up the chocolate cheesecake I had in the refrigerator.
“Look at you, pulling out all the stops.” She winks.
“I try.” I grin.
“Dessert later?”
“That works for me.” I shrug my shoulders then reach out for her hand.
“Want a tour? Since I was rude and didn’t give you one earlier?”
“I’d love that.”
“You sure you’re up for it? It’s a pretty big space. Don’t want you to get a cramp after eating.”
She rolls her eyes at me, adorable.
“I think I’ll take my chances.”
I guide her into the living room, which is about ten steps off the kitchen/dining room. “Allow me to welcome you to the living area. As you can see, I chose to decorate with warm earth tones,” I begin but am cut off by her laughter. I walk her down the short hallway and point into the spare room, “Lily’s room. She chose a pallete in shades of green.”
She snorts, but I am not deterred.
I point into the bathroom. “The bathroom. The tub is seriously impressive,” I joke as I point to the tub that looks like it would only fit a toddler.
“And finally, the room you’ve been dying to see… my boudoir.”
A giggle bubbles out of her before she rolls her eyes at me and steps over the threshold into my room. It’s pretty basic. My furniture is made of a dark stain, my colors navy blue and white. She walks around slowly, much like I did when I first entered her bedroom, looking at the pictures I have on my dresser. They’re mostly of Lily and my family, but the one in the center is a picture I took of her when she didn’t know. She was cheering for Jack at the state football game, a smile on her face so bright that I couldn’t help myself.
I watch the rise and fall of her chest as she rolls her lips together.
There’s also a picture that Tess took of Carly, Lily, Jack, and me at the wedding. And one of Jack cooking at Balance that I don’t think she’s ever seen. On my nightstand, I have one single frame and a lamp. The picture is the selfie that I took of the two of us before we walked into Emily’s wedding. She smiles as she picks up the frame and traces the picture with her finger.
“That was a good day,” she murmurs.
“It was.” I nod.
“I mean, even with bitch-face coming.” She wrinkles her nose.
I chortle. “This is true. But it turned out alright.”
“It did. I still can’t…”
“No talk of her, okay? This is our night, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Come on,” I say, reaching out my hand to her.
We walk back into the kitchen and refill our drinks. I needed to get her out of my bedroom. I don’t want her to think that I only invited her over here for the sole purpose of getting her into my bed. But I had a lot of thoughts leaning the other direction going through my head as we stood there, her scent overwhelming in the small space.
We walk into the living room, and she looks around. I stand back, leaning my shoulder against the wall, letting her explore my space. As soon as she sees my vintage record player in the corner, she smiles at me. Her delicate fingers run over the aged instrument, admiring it as well as the old records I have sitting on the shelf below. Some of my records I’ve had since I was young enough to appreciate music. Some I’ve accumulated over time — at old record stores, garage sales. Everything from the Doors and Bruce Springsteen to the Beatles and Eric Clapton sits on my shelf. There’s something about listening to the crackle and pop behind the lyrics and music.
“Does this work?” she asks, turning slightly toward me.
I nod my head and unfold my arms, then push off the wall and walk over. I pull out Eric Clapton’s Slowhand album and adjust the needle to play “Wonderful Tonight.” I take her glass from her, set it on the coffee table, and extend my hand. When she places her small palm in mine, I tug her closer.
We sway side to side, her hand at my chest, my arm around her waist, much like we did at Emily’s wedding. And just like I did then, I stare at her in awe, grateful that she’s allowed me to be the person she opened up to. My eyes take her in. She looked absolutely stunning at the wedding. But here, in my apartment, when she’s in a casual tan chunky sweater and black leggings, she’s at her most beautiful. Because she’s Carly.
No words are spoken while we dance together. No words need to be spoken. The song says it all. The soft crackle combined with the smooth sound of the Eric Clapton’s voice.
When the song comes to an end, I reach over and lift the needle, stopping the sound of music coming from the speakers. I stand back up, and Carly is watching me with a softness in her eyes that hits me straight in the gut.
I clear my throat. “Cheesecake?”
She shakes her head.
“No?”
“I had a different dessert in mind,” she tells me, her voice soft, a little unsure, or is it just shy?
“Yeah?”
She nods her head this time, reaching up to my face and pulling me down closer to her. “I mean, if you want…”
“Want?” I ask her, my eyebrow raised. I reach for her waist, gripping tightly, and pull her in closer to me. She has to feel whether I want this or not. Her eyes flare, the deep brown glistening as her breathing picks up.
“James,” she says, breathless.
“Yeah?”
“Show me your boudoir again.” She smiles, though her voice is still breathless.
“My pleasure,” I tell her moments before I pick her up under her butt, and her legs wrap around my waist as I carry her into my bedroom.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Carly
There’s no other way to put this. It’s been several years since I had sex. Before I left Vince, we hadn’t been together in a while. Between him getting it on the side and me just not being interested in any sort of intimacy with him, neither of us made any effort. And that was fine with me.
And maybe a part of me should feel a little nervous now, considering that it’s been so long, but I’m not. And I have no question that it’s because of James. He’s calm, patient, funny, loving, kind… he’s everything I want for Jack to be in a man. He’s everything I want for me. I’ve delayed. I’ve waited. I made him wait, and I’ve tried to hold back, but there’s no way I cannot be with him, forever, tonight.
If I’m being completely honest, foreplay started when I fell head over heels into him, literally. He’s carrying me into his bedroom, and I nuzzle my face into his neck, inhaling the intoxicating and overwhelmingly delicious scent of him. As long as I live, I will never get tired of his smell. It
’s woodsy, and fresh, and everything a man should smell like. Does he have some sort of added pheromones in whatever he sprays on himself? Even as he’s carrying me, I feel like I need to be closer.
“Carly?”
“Yeah?”
“I kinda need to put you down.” He chuckles. “I mean, just for a second.”
I realize he’s standing beside his bed and has released his hold on me, but I’m still wrapped around him. I flush, embarrassed, unwind my legs, and set my feet to the floor.
Before he can say anything, or I lose my nerve, I reach down and pull my sweater off, exposing myself to him. I have to admit, I kind of knew what I was planning when I came over here tonight. Jack decided to stay at his friend Blake’s house, so it’s not like I will have to worry about doing a weird leave-in-the-middle-of-the-night thing, or walk in the door early in the morning.
“Holy shit.” James breathes out as he takes me in, my black lace bra and arrow necklace he gave me on our first date the only thing covering my upper body. “Carly, I knew you were beautiful…” He shakes his head and bites his lip as his eyes travel up and down my body. “You’re sure? I don’t want there to be any confusion here. You’re already mine, but once we cross this line, you’re forever mine. You got me?”
I nod my head and whisper, “I’m yours, James. I think I’ve always been yours, even before we knew each other. And I’ll be yours forever.”
“Yeah?” He confirms with a grin so beautiful it takes my breath away. Before I can respond to him, he’s on me. His strong arms wrap around me and pull me close to him, his arousal pressing up against me, and if I wasn’t already so damn turned on, I would be now.
Our mouths come together in a bruising kiss, and I have the brief thought that I actually wouldn’t mind being bruised, marked by him. Everything about him turns me on. From the way he is with Jack, the fact that he raised his daughter on his own, pursued his dream after focusing so much of his life on her, his giving and sweet nature, the way he is with me… I am overwhelmingly blown away by him, and even more so by the fact that he’s mine. He loves me. Me.
His hands drift down my back, leaving a scorching trail that sizzles through my core. His tongue slides between my lips, battling for dominance with my own. I gladly give it to him, ready to offer up every part of me. He turns his head slightly to the side then shifts, moving his mouth over my jawline down to my neck, my collarbone, my shoulder. His tongue slips out, tasting every part of me. My breaths are coming in short spurts, and I tremble at the feel of him against me. My hands reach out, hooking my fingers in the belt loops of his jeans, pulling him back to me. The feel of him against me causes a deep moan to burst from my chest, and we both become frantic. Gone are the moments of patience. Gone is the calm. We’ve walked right into the fray, too many days spent around each other holding back, waiting, waiting, waiting.
But no more.
No more. I don’t want James to be gentle. I need him. It’s as simple as that.
“No more holding back.” My voice is husky, as desperate as I feel for him.
“Carly…”
“No, James. You’ve been patient. Hell, I’ve been patient. You’ve had my heart for a long time, and you’ve been gentle, and so achingly tender with me. But right now? Right now I need you. That’s it. Please,” I beg.
His chest heaves up and down and his eyes blaze. “No problem.”
The second the words are out of his mouth, my fingers move to the bottom hem of his shirt and tug on it while trying to pull it off. He helps, only removing his mouth from mine in the time it takes to get it over his head.
The second it’s off, I take my turn kissing his neck, shoulder, chest. My mouth drifts over every part of him I can manage to get my lips on. His skin is warm under my lips, his chest rising and falling rapidly. My tongue makes a trail upward, and when I get to his neck, I can feel the heavy pulse of his heart causing my stomach to flutter with anticipation, knowing he’s as ready for this as I am.
“Oh damn that feels so good,” he groans.
Desperately, I try to not think of the last time, the last person, I was intimate with. I push the memories aside, not wanting to miss a single moment.
As if reading my thoughts, James takes a deep breath and says my name, his voice coming out like a croak. “Carly.”
“Mmm,” I mumble, my lips still on his skin.
“Baby, listen to me.”
I lift my eyes to his, seeing his soften under my gaze.
“This is just us. You get that, right? This, right here…” He motions between us. “…is what we get, just the two of us. Something we didn’t get from anyone else. Something we can’t get from anyone else. I love you. I love you so damn much I sometimes have a hard time seeing anything beyond us. But that’s okay with me because right now? I see nothing but you.”
Oh hell. His words! I can’t begin to understand what I did to deserve him or his love, but I’m not going to deny either one of us a second longer. I lick my lips and continue to look deep into his eyes. I frame his face with my hands and pull him close to give him a light kiss. “I love you, James, but I think talking time is over for a little while,” I say, grinning up at him.
“Yes, ma’am.” I see the smirk cover his face just moments before his lips are once again on me, and we fall into a heap on the bed together. We lie down, and he stretches out his long body beside me. He bends his elbow and leans his head on his hand as his other hand makes a figure eight motion on my stomach. I shiver under his soft touch, his fingertips rough against my smooth skin.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs as he bends down and places kisses over my stomach. “So—” Kiss. “—beautiful.” Kiss. “Mine,” he growls as he moves from my lower stomach up toward my chest.
I arch my back in response, and his hand glides under my back to the hook on my bra. He kisses me as his hand works to remove it, both of us laughing against each other as he struggles to blindly undo it.
I press my lips together, suddenly feeling shy and nervous. The last man who saw me naked was Vince, and to say he didn’t necessarily sing my praises would be putting it lightly. I have no idea what to expect, how to react, or how he’ll react.
Finally, my bra comes unhooked, and with swift hands, he removes it, spinning it on his finger a few times before flinging it across the room unceremoniously. A laugh bubbles out of me as he moves to stand up. He pops open the button on his jeans with flair then slides the zipper down. I sit up on my elbows and watch when he turns around and does a circle motion with his hips before pushing his butt out and slowly letting his jeans fall. He looks at me over his shoulder, his eyes twinkling. He bends over and removes his jeans and socks, tossing the denim over his shoulder at me. I giggle, knowing exactly what he’s doing. He’s trying to make me feel comfortable, get me to lighten up, and I’m so grateful.
He crawls onto the bed and up my body so we’re face to face. With fire in his eyes, he kisses me, his tongue plunging into my mouth as his hands leave a blazing trail up to my breast. He lifts his head then moves down, placing soft kisses to my jaw, throat, down to my nipples. “Carly. It’s us,” he says after starting a fire in my belly. “You have nothing to be nervous about. Nothing to worry over. You’re so damn beautiful it makes me ache,” he says, pressing himself against me, making me gasp. “You feel that? That’s what one single look at you does to me.”
“Wow.”
He grins at me, unashamed.
“Thank you, James. For always knowing what I need, for being you.”
“Will you let me show you how much I love you now?”
“Hell yes,” I tell him and grab him by the back of his neck, bringing him down to me. We kiss until my lips are tingling, and I’m short of breath.
“You’re a really good kisser,” I say stupidly then cover my mouth.
“Well, I’m glad you approve. You’re kinda stuck kissing me for the rest of your life, you know.”
His large hand spreads o
ver my stomach as his lips make a descent downward. He kisses me just above my panty line, lifting his eyes to mine.
“I want to see all of you,” he murmurs, his lips never leaving my skin.
I raise my hips and bite my lip. He wraps his hands around the edges of my pants and panties and pulls them both down my legs at once. My breath hitches when I feel him breathe against my center. His finger grazes against me, as if asking permission, and I squirm, wanting more. He sets me on fire as he alternates between sliding his tongue against me, and kissing me with his hot, eager lips. And then… he sucks. Shockwaves of lust shoot through me when he pulls on the most sensitive part of me with his mouth. I fist the sheets and twist and turn, letting out moans and completely unintelligible curses.
I arch my back as the storm building in me intensifies, and his fingers dig into my hips, holding me in place. I grip his head and press him closer. My legs fall to the side, opening myself up to him even more, and he nuzzles his nose against me, inhaling deeply. My eyes roll back in my head as his fingers and mouth work together, bringing me to the brink over and over again.
“Holy shit! James!”
He grips my thighs, lifting me up to him. He sucks hard on the sensitive bud, and I come apart, thrashing my head from side to side, one hand still on the back of his head while the other is pressed against my forehead. He slows his movements, kissing my inner thighs and moving back up my body.
As soon as his face is near mine, he teases, “Still nervous?”
I reach up and press my lips against his, sliding my tongue between his lips and tasting myself. We moan in unison, and his body drops to mine, his arms holding him up just enough that I’m not uncomfortable with the added weight, but I can feel every inch of him. I buck my hips, and he twists, bringing me with him.
I mumble against his lips. “My turn.”
He grins, crosses his arms behind his head, and waggles his eyebrows. “Have at it, beautiful.”
“Well, at least one of us isn’t nervous.” I chortle.
“Nothin’ to be nervous about, beautiful. Not when it feels right, you know?”
A Better Place Page 27