Illegal Motion: Boys of Fall
Page 3
A huge breath left Lacey’s body at that and she felt the relief pour through her. “Thank God.” She leaned in and wrapped her arms around him. “Hold me.”
His arms went around her immediately as well and he pulled her into his body.
For a moment they just stood like that, pressed together. Then Carter’s hand started stroking up and down her back and she felt the tension in her muscles begin to melt. She buried her face against his neck and breathed in his beloved, familiar scent.
It had been so long. She and Carter had always been comfortable touching one another—hugs, foot or neck rubs, his hand at her back if they were maneuvering through a crowd—but the last time had been that night. The night they’d gone so far beyond touching, so far beyond anything she’d ever felt before. Garrett had been there, it had been his idea, and she wasn’t sure that Garrett had ever realized just how strong her connection with Carter had been. But it had still rocked her.
Rocked her even now.
Carter had made love to her. It hadn’t just been a wild, hot night, the fulfillment of a fantasy for her birthday. It had been a lot more than that. Sharing her body with two men maybe would have just been hot and fun…if it had been two other men. Any other men at all. But with Carter and Garrett, she’d felt loved and worshipped and the pleasure had been so off the charts that she was certain she’d never recover.
And maybe she hadn’t.
That night, when she’d drifted off to sleep, had been the last time she’d seen Carter for nearly six months. The next had been across the room at Garrett’s funeral.
Carter hadn’t come to San Antonio again after that night. He hadn’t called or texted her. Apparently he and Garrett had talked a few times. But Garrett hadn’t invited Carter to come and hadn’t even mentioned the fact that he hadn’t seen his friend in months. She hadn’t brought it up either.
She and Garrett had been okay after that. Things had been mostly normal. They’d seen each other all the time, laughed and shared and made love.
But something had been missing.
“Damn you.” She pulled back swiftly from Carter’s embrace to scowl at him.
He looked confused. “What?”
“I missed you,” she said.
His expression softened. “I’ve missed you too. I know the funeral—”
“Not just that. I missed you long before that. You were always there, even when you weren’t there you were there. We talked, we had…something. And then that night…and we…and then it was all different and…I missed you. I lost you that night. And then I lost him.”
She didn’t realize that she’d started crying until Carter lifted a hand and brushed a tear off her cheek with his thumb.
“I know,” he said simply.
“And I did miss you at the funeral,” she said. “I’m sorry about that.”
He nodded. “I understood.”
She shook her head. She wasn’t sure he did. “You remind me of him. And it was so painful. But he reminded me of you. That was painful too. And I think I reminded him of you, and…” She trailed off.
She and Garrett had never even been back to their favorite restaurant because it was where they always went when Carter was in town. But neither of them had ever suggested it. It was asif neither of them even wanted to bring it up. “It was like something was missing after…that night.”
She said the last two words on a whisper as her entire body flushed. Looking into his eyes, with one of his hands on her face and one on her hip, thinking back to her birthday night made feelings and sensations and memories wash over with a speed that made her head spin.
Holy crap that had been good. She’d never had sex like that with even one guy, not to mention two.
She pulled back, overwhelmed with emotions.
Carter dropped his hand, as if reading what was going through her mind. As if it was really her mind at play here.
It felt a lot more like her body. And her heart.
He tucked his hands into his pockets and just looked at her.
Lacey put her palms against her hot cheeks. “God, I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“You’re remembering that night,” he said.
Even those few words made hot sparks of desire shoot to her core. She had said “that night” but hearing him refer to it, in that deep voice that seemed to rumble through her more as a physical feeling than an auditory sensation, made her go weak and hot.
“I think about it all the time,” she heard herself admit.
His gaze burned into hers. “So do I.”
She’d thought so. Hoped so. But hadn’t been sure. Carter had been with a lot of women, in a lot of ways. She knew that the night with her and Garrett hadn’t been a first for Carter. Or for Garrett, for that matter.
“That night never should have happened,” Carter said hoarsely. “I should have said no.”
Lacey felt her eyes widen and her heart pounded. She started shaking her head and stepped forward. “Don’t say that. God, please don’t say that.”
Carter’s expression was tight as he took a deep breath. “If that night hadn’t happened, Garrett wouldn’t have told me—” He broke off, clearly not sure he should go there. “Things would have stayed the same.”
Lacey frowned slightly. “I didn’t want things to stay the same. Garrett and I both wanted more. You know that. We wanted all of us to be together.”
He didn’t say anything.
And she wanted more than talking. They could talk later.
“That’s why I’m here,” she said, spreading her arms wide. The coat was buttoned up so only the top gaped. But it was enough to show the edge of the hot-pink bustier. “I need you, Carter. No one else can help me feel what I need to again. I want to feel the way I always did when I was with you.”
His gaze took her in from the top of her head to the tips of her shoes. But he didn’t move. Didn’t make a sound.
God, she wanted him. And not just the sex, though forgetting every other emotion for a while and just letting herself get wrapped up and washed away in pleasure sounded damn good. But she needed the connection that only Carter could give her. The connection that had been there even before Garrett had decided to surprise her for her twenty-seventh birthday with the fulfillment of her ultimate fantasy—confessed to him when she’d been drunk on Bacardi and playing Truth or Dare with him and Carter.
She remembered sitting on the floor around their square coffee table one night when Carter had come to town, drinking shots that included rum, coconut liqueur and chocolate syrup, and talking. The shots had eventually morphed into taking shots of the rum straight out of the bottle, and the conversation had morphed into Truth or Dare.
Garrett had asked her if she’d ever consider a threesome. She’d said yes. And then he’d asked her who the third would be.
She remembered, in spite of her fuzzy-headed state, looking straight at Carter and saying, “Only Carter”.
She also remembered the look on Carter’s face—a mix of heat, need and dread.
Her birthday hadn’t been for two more months and she’d almost forgotten about the conversation. Almost. Except for every time Carter was in town after that.
But Garrett hadn’t forgotten. And the night of her birthday they’d taken her out for dinner and then they’d gone dancing at a club. And Carter had danced with her. Typically, he danced, but not with her. Garrett was her only partner on the dance floor. Until that night.
That’s when she’d wondered.
And when they’d walked to the car with her in between them, it felt more intimate than usual. They were both always protective of her and she was always put in the middle, but they both had their hands on her that night. Garrett had been holding her hand and Carter’s hand had been on her lower back all the way to the car.
So she hadn’t been shocked that Carter had been standing in the doorway when Garrett led her straight to the bedroom and kissed her deeply and told her that he alway
s wanted to make all of her dreams come true.
“I’d planned to seduce you,” she said.
“I see.”
“You’re not looking seduced, suddenly.”
He sighed. “I wish it was that easy.”
“It is. It can be.” Lacey stepped forward and grabbed the front of his shirt again. “I need you, Carter. I need to be with you.”
His gaze went from her eyes to her mouth, then back up.
He didn’t touch her. He didn’t have to. She felt the heat.
“Do you know why I told you to give Garrett your phone number that first night?” he asked, instead of grabbing her and kissing her senseless as she’d been hoping.
“Because he was one of your best friends and you cared about him and…” She hesitated. She didn’t want to sound like a child. She knew that Carter had liked that she wasn’t clingy and needy and whiny like so many of the women he dated. Or so he told her and Garrett. It seemed like whenever they all talked about Carter’s girlfriends, he started off with something like “not all women are like you, Lacey” or “I wish there were more women like you”. Yet, he’d told her to go for his best friend.
“And?” he prompted, one eyebrow up.
“He liked me more than you did.”
Something flared in Carter’s eyes and his brows slammed together. “No,” he said firmly. “That was not it.”
She tugged him closer and he took a step forward. “Then why?”
She’d always wondered. It was actually kind of amazing that, in all of the times the three of them had shared their secrets and dreams, in all of the times they’d gotten tipsy and their tongues had gotten loose sitting around Garrett’s fireplace or out on the deck looking at the stars, she hadn’t asked this question.
But she hadn’t really wanted to hear him say that he hadn’t felt about her the way Garrett did.
It shouldn’t matter. She’d had Garrett. She’d been so happy with him and it was wonderful that he was the one she’d given her number to. Garrett had been fun and had made her feel like a princess. He’d spoiled her and showed her he loved her in big ways.
Carter was more serious. He was the quieter one, for sure, but he also seemed to just always be observing, taking everything in. He made her feel special in different ways. Where Garrett was openly demonstrative and said how he felt easily and often, Carter seemed…harder. As if getting close to him would be difficult. So knowing that he let her close was something she cherished.
“Because he could give you what you needed,” Carter said.
“What does that mean?” But she knew.
“You’re the marrying type, Lacey. You want the big engagement ring and the huge party and the piece of paper. Garrett is—was—that guy.”
Maybe if he hadn’t stumbled over the is/was thing. Maybe if his voice hadn’t gotten gruff there. Maybe if she hadn’t seen the pain in his eyes, she would have let it go. Because she knew that was true. With Garrett there had been a future. Not so with Carter.
But he did stumble and his hurt over losing Garrett was obvious, so all she could do was press against him, wrap her arms around his neck, and whisper against his lips, “All I need is tonight.”
Chapter Three
Lacey wanted him because she was sad and lonely. Lacey was the marrying type, not the hot-weekend-fling type. Lacey had been the love of his best friend’s life.
Another man might have thought of all those things and resisted sliding one hand to the back of her neck, his other hand to her ass, and sealing his mouth over hers.
Carter was not that man.
Carter kissed her deeply, drinking in the feel of her lips, the scent of her skin, the way she arched closer and gripped his shoulders and moaned. He urged her mouth open and stroked her bottom lip, then her tongue with his. He pressed her against his cock and ground into her sweet softness.
Lacey Andrews was everything he’d always wanted if he’d let himself want things like marriage and family and forever, and she was in his arms asking him for something he absolutely could give her.
She needed sex? She needed to feel again? She needed to remember what it was like to have a man want her and take care of her and make her cry with pleasure instead of grief?
He was that man.
He kissed her with every bit of need and loss he’d felt over the past twelve months. He kissed her as if he was never going to have another chance in his life.
Carter felt her hands at the front of his shirt, working on the buttons, and shuddered. He needed her hands on him. He needed to be against every inch of her. She might be here because she was sad and lonely, but he’d wanted to soothe those things for her six months ago and because he hadn’t been able to do it, there had been a hard knot of regret in his gut since. Now she was here, and making her feel good, making her forget for a little while, was as healing for him as it would be for her.
He let her lips go, trailing his mouth over her cheek to her ear. “I need to see under this coat, Lace.”
She was still working on his buttons when she said, “I know you like pink.”
He pulled back to see her face. “Did you buy this for me?”
She bit her bottom lip and nodded.
Fuck yeah you did.
He was going to have all kinds of mixed emotions later, he knew, but he didn’t give a shit at the moment. Lacey was here in sexy pink underwear. For him.
All for him.
He wasn’t sharing her tonight. He wasn’t sending her to bed with another man after an evening of laughing and sharing. He wasn’t going upstairs to his bed alone. Or with a woman who was supposed to fill the void in his life that came from having everything with Lacey but her body.
She was his tonight.
Yeah, a better man might have sent her to bed alone—at the bed-and-breakfast in town.
But Carter wasn’t that man either.
He stepped back. His shirt was completely open and he loved the way her gaze roamed over his chest and down his abs hungrily. He wasn’t too proud to soak all of that in.
Carter shrugged out of his shirt and tossed it toward the living room. Then he reached out and grabbed the end of the belt that wrapped around her coat. He tugged it loose.
“Unbutton for me,” he told her.
He could see that she was breathing raggedly but she went right for the buttons without hesitation. He knew she was thinking of nothing but the two of them and what was about to happen, and he was going to make damned sure that she didn’t think of anything else until the sun came up.
The V neck had already given him a hint of the pink satin underneath but as the buttons gave and the coat parted, Carter found it impossible to swallow. Or even breathe deep.
It wasn’t a teddy. It was a bustier and tiny silk panties. Only a bustier and tiny silk panties.
The coat opened and Lacey shrugged it off, letting it pool at her feet.
Her feet looked amazing in the high black heels, but he couldn’t make himself move his gaze past about mid-thigh. There was just so much to look at.
The bustier pushed her breasts higher, the tops of the gorgeous curves peeking out from the top of the hot-pink satin. Black laces crisscrossed over her rib cage and hugged her waist. There was a strip of smooth, bare skin between the bottom of the bustier and the top of her panties that Carter intended to drag his tongue over thoroughly.
But the most breathtaking sight was when he again focused on her face and saw the raw desire in her eyes. She stood and let him look and his eyes on her fired her blood. He fucking loved that.
He needed to feel how hot and wet she was for him. He needed to hear her begging him for release. He needed to feel her come around him, for him.
It was all for him.
“I do love pink,” he said. Pink reminded him of women. It was feminine and sweet and made him think of lips and nipples and clits.
She gave him a small smile. “I saw it and knew—”
The rest of what she’d been abou
t to say was lost when Carter stooped to sweep her up into his arms.
Her arms went around his neck. “Not up against the door?”
She almost sounded disappointed and Carter looked down at her. “You want me to fuck you up against the door, Lace?”
He was already throbbing and hard, but that image—and the idea that was what she wanted—made his cock press against his zipper painfully.
“I just didn’t think you’d be able to help it,” she said, her cheeks getting a little pink.
Pink also reminded him of blushes. He loved making Lacey blush.
“I want you spread out on my bed,” he told her honestly. “Just like I’ve imagined so damned many times. I want to watch you squirming against my sheets and see you grab onto my headboard as I thrust into you and I want to smell your shampoo on my pillow in the morning. But if you want the door—”
“No, bed. Now.” Her eyes were wide and the pink in her cheeks was now obviously from arousal.
Carter felt a surge of satisfaction. Everything he’d said was true. He’d imagined all of those things with her, many painful times. But he also couldn’t forget that Lacey was a romantic. Those weren’t the most poetic words ever uttered by a man to a woman, but that was as close as he was likely to get and Lacey probably knew that.
No, she did know that. She knew him. And she was here in his house in underwear she’d bought for him anyway.
Carter started for the stairs.
“And the door another time,” she said.
He almost stumbled on the step. He looked down at her. She was giving him a mischievous, sexy smile that almost stopped his heart.
He had no idea what kind of lover Lacey was, he realized. He’d been with her one night, a night orchestrated by her boyfriend, who had been there the whole time. It had been the hottest and sweetest night of his life. But that had been Lacey’s first threesome so had been unusual for her, obviously. Carter didn’t know if she was typically a vixen or submissive or adventurous. Maybe it seemed that the threesome made her adventurous, but he knew the night the three of them had shared had nothing to do with being wild or daring. A threesome with anyone else, yes. But the three of them—it had just felt right. Natural. Comfortable. As though they had all been sharing that forever.