Any Man I Want

by Michele Grant

“You were asking me something?”

  “Yeah, I got distracted.” I reached into my pants pocket and pulled out a foil packet.

  “You want me to do anything for you while I’m down here?” She reached for my boxers and dragged them down, freeing the foil from my hand, ripping open the package, and sheathing me quickly. I hissed out a breath, grabbed her underneath her arms, and lifted her up. If she kept her hands on me, we’d be done before we got started.

  “You’re gonna be the death of me. I was going to ask if you’re a sweep-you-off-your-feet-and-carry-you-to-bed kinda girl or a drop-down-and-do-me-on-the-floor kinda girl, but shit just got urgent.” I carried her over the sofa and set her down.

  She unfastened her bra and I put my hands over hers.

  “I wanted to do that.”

  “Carter, I promise next time we can do it all romantic on a bed of rose petals and we can take four hours to lick chocolate and strawberries off each other by candlelight if you like, but right now can we just—”

  “I got you, babe. Hold on, it’s not going to be pretty.”

  “But it’s going to be good.”

  “Damn straight.”

  14

  That was definitely worth the wait

  Katrina—Saturday, May 28—4:31 p.m.

  Carter picked me up and set me on my feet, flipping me around so I was bent over the high back of the couch. Something about being placed into the position of his choice flipped all my triggers. It was hot. I both felt and heard him rip the flimsy g-string panties off of me. I found myself breathless with excited anticipation.

  “Breathe, baby,” he whispered from behind me and I shuddered. “Brace.” He positioned my arms. “And hold on. Ready?”

  “More than.”

  He thrust inside of me in one powerful stroke and I shrieked. “You good?” he ground out through gritted teeth.

  “So damn good.” Jesus, he was huge. He filled me up and stretched me deliciously as his powerful hips drove against me again and again. I strained back against him, eager for all he had to give. His hands slid up my torso and his fingers plucked at my nipples, rhythmically in sync with his impossibly deep strokes. “Don’t stop.”

  “Trust me, I won’t,” he promised, running his tongue along the back of my neck. “Stay with me.” He wrapped his hands around my waist and pulled me up and back as he sat on the chaise lounge so that I was sitting on his lap with his shaft deep inside of me.

  I undulated on top of him and we both groaned. “I like this.”

  “I thought you might.” He closed his thighs and opened mine over his and began pumping up into me with short, sharp strokes. His hands gripped my hips and he bounced me against him so I felt truly taken. There was no nerve he didn’t rake against, no pulsing folds that escaped the imprint of his hardness. I was helpless to do anything but ride. I flung my head back against his shoulder. I’d never been like this. He’d barely put his hands on me and I was desperate. The feel of him stroking inside had wetness seeping out of me. And it wasn’t enough. I made an agitated sound and writhed against him.

  “Problem, diva?”

  “I need—”

  “I know what you need.” He took one of his hands off of my hips and slid it through my seeping wetness. He pulled my left hand off his thigh and guided it between my legs. He stroked, using my own hand with his covering it, directing the pressure and the motion. His thumb flicked my sensitive nub once and then twice before he replaced his hand with mine. “Touch yourself, baby.”

  “Oh Christ,” I moaned, doing as he asked. I caressed myself and he grew harder inside of me.

  He watched me over my shoulder. “That’s so damn hot, Katrina.”

  “Uh-huh,” I panted, my hand moving faster between my legs as his strokes sped up. I felt the convulsions starting deep inside of me and I began squirming on top of him. “Oh God, Carter.”

  “That’s my Kitty, take what you want.”

  I squeezed around him and arched violently as I trembled on the edge. His teeth bit lightly into the side of my neck as he bounced me harder along his length and I exploded over the precipice, crying out in pleasure. I twisted my pelvis, grinding against him, drawing out the waves as they continued to singe my nerves and steal my breath. Finally I slumped forward and sighed. That was definitely worth the wait. He ran his hands up and down my arms in slow, languid movements. It took a moment or two before I realized he was still pulsing rock-hard inside of me. I wiggled my rear and looked over my shoulder at him. “Hey you.”

  “Hey.” He grinned. “Welcome back.”

  “Yeah,” I said, grinning and stretching luxuriously against him. “I was gone there for a second.”

  “I’d like to send you there again,” he growled.

  I climbed off of him and pushed him onto his back before straddling him once more. “Perhaps you’d like to come with me this time?” I reached between us and guided him back into my core. I closed my eyes as he slid home. I stretched out on top of him so we were plastered against each other. I inched my hips up, down, and around in tiny increments, torturing the both of us.

  “Don’t mind if I do.” He watched me under lowered lids while I continued my languid rolls against him.

  “Can I call you C?” I asked, swirling my hips in a slow figure eight and running my hands along his shoulders. He was a beautiful man. I started to heat up again just looking at him.

  “You can call me whatever you want right now.”

  “C?” I groaned as he tilted his hips up and to the right, hitting just the right spot deep inside of me.

  “K?” he replied in a tight voice.

  “You make me really hot,” I purred while he rubbed that spot inside me with the tip of his shaft. It wasn’t the deepest thing I’d ever told a man, but it was the unvarnished truth.

  “Then we’re even.”

  I slid my hands behind his neck and lifted his head up to mine. I attacked his lips with a swell of passion. His lips were ridiculously soft and he was an amazing kisser. He sucked lips and skimmed teeth and licked every crevice and allowed me to do the same. It was like he wanted to learn every nook and cranny and then come back around for more. His tongue reached out and we played thrust and parry until I couldn’t breathe. “Shift up,” I said and leaned back to watch his abs ripple as he rose to a sitting position. “A man who looks like you should be banned and only brought out on special occasions.”

  He barked out a surprised laugh. “Have you looked in the mirror lately?”

  “I’m obviously pretty,” I said matter-of-factly, “but you’re like a lethal weapon with hidden layers of hotness.”

  “If you say so.” He matched my unhurried pace with equally deliberate moves of his own.

  “I do say so,” I affirmed and brought my knees up on either side of him. “You have the most amazing stamina. Can you stay like this all day?”

  “Much as I’d love to, I doubt it,” he said, smirking.

  “I was going to do this whole thing where I crawled on top of you and rode you until you screamed out my name,” I confessed.

  His nostrils flared and he flexed inside of me. “Is that so?”

  “Um-hmm,” I murmured.

  “What’s stopping you?”

  I paused. We’d been pretty honest and up-front with each other, but I always struggled between what I thought people expected of me and what I really wanted. I wanted to ask for something, but I didn’t want to be judged for it. Especially not by him. He was too important. I cared too much what he thought of me.

  “Katrina,” he said sternly.

  My eyes flew to his and I shook my head. “Never mind.”

  He looked at me contemplatively for a moment, as if trying to figure out the answer to a puzzle. After a long gaze, he nodded. “Okay then.”

  “Okay then?” I moved to push him backwards again and he resisted, shaking his head slowly.

  “Carter—I . . .” Thinking I had ruined the mood, I scrambled around for something
to get us back on track.

  “Shhhh.” He wrapped an arm around my waist and stood up with me in his arms.

  “You’re going to have to stop carrying me around like I weigh nothing,” I admonished, though secretly I loved it.

  He wrapped my arms and legs around him. “Yeah? Who’s going to stop me?”

  He had a point. “Where are you taking me?” I asked.

  We entered his bedroom and he laid me down on the bed. “Where you want to go,” he answered and climbed on top of me. He spread my legs with his thighs and put my hands over my head. He held each of my wrists in his hands and lowered his hips onto me so I was pinned between him and the mattress. I was completely open to him; completely vulnerable. The feeling should have scared me. Instead, I was thrilled.

  My breath hitched in my throat and my eyes fluttered closed when I realized he knew what I wanted without having to be asked.

  “K?” he whispered, running his tongue along the pulsing vein in my neck to just under my ear.

  “C?” I tried not to whimper.

  “Open your eyes and look at me . . . now,” he commanded in a low voice.

  I looked up at him helplessly, so enthralled with what he was making me feel.

  “I’m going to take you now.” His voice was a vibrating baritone in my ear.

  “Please,” I pleaded and canted my hips upward so he could slide back inside of me.

  “Oh, God, you’re soaking wet,” he grated.

  “I know. I can’t help it.”

  “Good.” He began to ride me in earnest, driving into me with unchecked carnality. He pounded with such power and authority that I began climaxing instantly. My inner folds fluttered around him as we pumped against each other, joining in a cadence as if we’d done this a million times before. He was pressed so tightly against me that each thrust of his body against mine scraped my nipples across his chest.

  “Harder,” I rasped out. I wanted more and strained against his hold, loving the fact that he was in charge, but giving me everything. He grunted as my sex clenched harder. He let go of my wrists to grip my hips, tilting them up so he could reach that much deeper. He unlocked something inside that unfurled and broke loose and suddenly I was all sensation.

  “C!” I screamed as it became too much. Too much feeling, too much pleasure.

  “I got you,” he soothed as his hips twisted, taking me to a whole different level. “I got you. I’ve always got you.”

  Raw screams erupted from me as another orgasm stronger than I’d ever felt ripped through me. I have no idea what I was screaming as I tightened and arched against him over and over again. I wrapped my arms around him to hold onto something solid.

  He threw his head back as his release flowed from him in a heated rush. His body pulsed over mine for long moments before he slumped to the side. He unsheathed himself and dropped the condom in the trash can by the bed. He pulled me over to him with a deep sigh of satisfaction.

  We lay wrapped in each other for a few quiet moments. I was thoroughly satisfied, slightly stunned, and only a little bit embarrassed.

  “How did you know?” I whispered and traced patterns on his chest.

  “I guessed. You’re a together woman, on your game twenty-four-seven. I wondered if maybe you wanted someone else to take control sometimes.”

  “Not someone. I couldn’t do that with just anyone.”

  “Good.” He kissed my forehead. “I’m glad you trust me enough to be yourself. You don’t have to be anyone but who you are, that’s who I want. I don’t need all sorts of bells and whistles. I just want one hundred percent pure Katrina.”

  “That’s enough for you? I’m not all stilettos and see-through bikinis and champagne.”

  “Girl, I want you in a T-shirt eating buffalo wings and drinking Kool-Aid. You are more than enough for me. You’re a gift, Kitty, no matter how you’re wrapped.”

  My emotions welled up and I blinked back tears. “So you’re not expecting a stripper pole in the living room?” I teased.

  “You stripped just fine without it last night.” He nuzzled my forehead.

  “I have put you through a lot this week,” I admitted.

  “You’re a little high-maintenance. Lucky for you, you are more than worth it.”

  “Kevin didn’t get me,” I mused out loud. It occurred to me that none of the men I had ever dated understood me, not the real me. Maybe that’s why they could never give me what I needed. In or out of bed.

  “He was too self-centered to care. And he’s a fool. Can we not talk about him while we’re basking in afterglow?”

  “Are you an afterglow kind of guy?”

  “Hell yeah. Foreplay, multifaceted bed game, afterglow with cuddles? I’m here for all of it.”

  “With everybody or just me?”

  “After you, there isn’t an anyone else.”

  “You do say the right things.”

  “I speak the truth.”

  I sighed and snuggled closer. “I’m just saying. Thanks for knowing what I need.”

  “Thanks for letting me give it to you. Feel free to ask for anything you want.”

  “Anything?” My eyes lit up as I let my imagination run wild. The freedom to be myself in every area of my life with someone I trusted? That was just as addictive as the sex.

  “Within reason.” He smacked my ass and then rubbed away the slight sting.

  That was the great thing about Carter in a nutshell. He was willing to let me be myself, but made sure I knew I had boundaries. If you had told me this morning that I wanted a man to place boundaries on me, I would have laughed. Thinking back to this morning gave me an idea. “This morning when you were in the shower with the washcloth?”

  His eyes went smoky. “Yeah?”

  “Can I watch?”

  “You just wanna watch?”

  “I might want to assist.” I slid my hand down and wrapped around him. “How in the world are you getting hard again?”

  “What can I say? You inspire me. But I’m feeling kinda dirty. Want to help me clean off in the shower?”

  I licked my lips. “Oh yeah. If you miss a spot, I might need to lick you clean.”

  “Did I mention that you’re going to be the death of me?”

  “Only every day for the past week.” I grinned as he stood up and pulled me into the bathroom with him.

  15

  Boy, your business is in the streets

  Carter—Monday, June 14—11:40 a.m.

  I’d been back from my trip to the Caribbean and Vegas with Katrina for two weeks and I was still playing catch-up at work. The eighty-hour workweeks I was used to putting in didn’t hold the appeal they used to. My vice president Gina and I were already talking about bringing on extra help at the executive level to take up some the slack. The company was stable and profitable enough that I didn’t need to have my hands on the wheel every second of every day.

  Watching Beau settle into married life as he and Belle balanced work and home had opened my eyes to a few things. I’d spent so many years concentrating on getting to where I thought I needed to go that I hadn’t taken a moment to sit and reflect on the end game. I spent high school and college working my ass off to be the best athlete I could be, knowing that was my ticket to some level of security for me and my family. Not saying I didn’t have some good times along the way, but I never played as seriously as I worked.

  I was 75 percent talent and 30 percent raw hunger and ambition. That extra 5 percent was my saving grace. I was only a year or two into my professional football career when I realized I was going to need a fallback plan. I watched guys who were more talented than me getting hurt or cut or traded—out of the league with no idea what to do next. The average pro football career is three years. The average life expectancy for a black male is sixty-seven years. If your playing career was over at the age of twenty-five, that was a lot of retirement to deal with on very little income. I wasn’t going to be that guy.

  I’d put the same d
edication and drive into making Parks Properties a success as I had in my ten-year playing career. I considered myself a combination of blessed, lucky, and smart.

  The only area where I hadn’t really put in the effort to be successful was in my private life. Family I kept close. Friendships I cultivated. But focusing on one special lady and giving her all I had? This was the first time I was with someone who even inspired those kinds of thoughts.

  As expected, the physical aspect of my relationship with Katrina was enthusiastic, energetic, and intoxicating. Put plainly, we were combustible in bed. Physically compatible in every way. Sexually, we brought out the best and wildest in each other. Katrina had a deep pool of stored-up fantasies from the simple to the seriously sexy and I had both the desire and innate ability to bring those fantasies to life. It was chemical synergy.

  The surprising thing was the way we seamlessly integrated into the other areas of each other’s lives as if we’d always been there. When we got back from Vegas two weeks ago, we swung by her place, picked up some of her stuff from her condo, and she’d been at my house ever since. No discussion, no drama.

  I bought the large, remodeled Tudor a few years back, hoping to fill it with a family someday. I felt a jolt when Katrina walked in my door and set her bags down. She instantly belonged. Clearly, I’d underestimated just how much I wanted someone—her—there. It was like finding the last piece to a puzzle. She waltzed in and took in the open-concept first floor with its mixture of dark antiques, light hardwoods, traditional furnishings, and muted walls, and nodded.

  “I like it. The blues and greens are little too Carter Parks corporate, but I can work with it. Bring in a stronger shade of that ocean color here, maybe wine-colored accents over there.” She gestured. I wondered if she realized she had started redecorating my home without being asked.

  “Carter Parks corporate?” I asked.

  “Yes, buttoned up. Grown-up. Smooth. Deceptively easygoing and congenial.”

  I crossed my arms and raised a brow at her. “As opposed to?”

  “My Carter Parks. A little untamed, deep thinker, still with a few rough edges, down for whatever, and doesn’t mind cutting a little loose from time to time.”