Touched by You

by Elle Wright

  Reluctantly, he pulled back, sucking in a deep, steadying breath. Her eyes were closed and her lips were parted, swollen from his kisses. She was absolutely stunning. He’d done that to her. Unable to resist, he bumped his nose against her, sucked her bottom lip one last time.

  Brooklyn opened those beautiful brown orbs. “Carter,” she whispered. “That was . . . you—”

  He smiled. “I know.”

  She retreated back a step. “No, I mean you kissed me.”

  “I’m aware of that.”

  “Why? I’ve asked you to go out with me, invited you for breakfast. I don’t understand. You’ve been turning me down. I kissed you and you bolted out of here so fast . . .”

  He understood her questions, and wished he had an answer that sounded halfway decent. “I’m sorry. There is a lot you don’t know about me.”

  She dropped into the seat, picked up a piece of pizza, and bit into it. It would seem that he’d kissed her hungry. “Have a seat,” she said. “Because I need to hear something from you. Something more.”

  He sat down, followed her lead by grabbing a slice of pizza. They ate in silence for a few minutes before he said, “I’m sorry if I made you feel like it was you. It’s not you. I wanted to kiss you before, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

  Pausing with pizza slice in hand, she dropped it on her plate and slid her chair closer. “Why? Are you married? Do you have a girlfriend at home?”

  Carter swallowed. He hadn’t expected the question, but he understood why she’d asked. He still acted like a married man, as though even looking at another woman was a betrayal to Krys. “No. I’m not married.” It wasn’t the right time to bring his past into the conversation, though. Not yet.

  She was still, observing him quietly before she asked, “What is it? Are you a virgin?”

  He barked out a laugh. “Hell no.”

  “Thank God,” she mumbled, chewing on the pizza crust.

  “I don’t want to just jump into bed with you either. It’s been a long time since I’ve met a woman I wanted to get to know.”

  “And you want to get to know me?”

  “I do. I haven’t laughed in a long time. And you make me laugh. It kind of caught me off guard at first. I’m not used to giving up control.”

  “So don’t. If you need to be in control, then take control.”

  Carter narrowed his gaze on Brooklyn, who was busy picking pepperoni off of her pizza. “It’s that easy for you to give up control?”

  “I didn’t say that. I like to have control, too. During the day.”

  His brain wrapped around her words. Does that mean she’s willing to give up control at night? The thought made him want to put her to the test.

  “How about we start with a first date?” he asked.

  She smiled, wide and sexy. “Are you asking me out?”

  “Are you saying yes?”

  “I have a couple of conditions. You asked me out on a first date. I feel like we’ve already kind of had a few dates. So I’m assuming you have something official in mind.”

  Carter chuckled at the way she held up air quotes and did a quirky shake of her head when she said official.

  “You can’t act all stuffy and intense like you do.” She held out her beer, allowing him to open it for her. “I don’t like fancy dates with high expectations. I don’t set rules like that. I’m not the kind of woman that needs big overtures. I order for myself. I don’t make a guy wait thirty days to have sex. If I want someone, I’m not shy about it.”

  Carter hardened at her admission. Brooklyn was refreshing, honest, and sexy as hell. He loved to hear her talk, loved the way her mind worked. He could see himself falling for her. Which was why he needed to take it slow. Brooklyn was her own woman, and what he felt for her was unique to her, and nothing like what he’d felt for his wife. She deserved to be first in any man’s life because she was good, kind, intelligent, and passionate. She didn’t deserve to be left dangling on a string if he wasn’t truly ready to move forward.

  “Carter?” She waved a hand in front of him, bringing him out of his thoughts. “Are you still here?”

  He gripped her wrist, stroking her skin with his thumb. “I’m here.”

  “Does having a first date mean I have to forget about that kiss?”

  He brought the inside of her wrist up to his mouth and nipped at the skin there before soothing it with his tongue. “I don’t think I can forget about that kiss.”

  “Damn,” she whispered.

  Meeting her gaze, he smirked. If he wanted to throw caution to the wind and take this to the next level, she would say yes. The thought sobered him, made him want to really go about this the right way. “Save Friday night for me, Brooklyn.”

  “Am I going to see you before Friday, Carter?”

  “That would be a definite yes.” He liked the idea of making plans with Brooklyn, although he had a feeling that nothing would be cookie-cutter with her. And that made him want her more.

  “Any idea what happens now?” he asked. They had just set up a date, but was he supposed to just go home? This was new to him.

  She smirked, leaned forward. “I think it’s pretty clear what happens next.”

  Oh shit. Carter drew in a deep breath. He’d already told her that he didn’t want to jump into bed with her, but his mind was slowly racing to that end game. She was simply irresistible. “Really?” he asked.

  Brooklyn’s gaze dropped to his mouth. As if she were a magnet, he leaned forward even closer. Their mouths were almost touching, her breath mingling with his own. “Yes. I think it’s time we take this . . .”

  He swallowed, bit the inside of his cheek. He wanted to kiss her again. He wanted to kiss her so hard and so long, it made him feel a little unhinged. Crazy. “To your bedroom?”

  She giggled, and he felt stupid. He’d told her that he wanted to take her on a date, and yet he’d skipped right ahead to her bedroom. “Is that where you want to go? Because I’m okay with that, too.”

  This woman was a breath of fresh air. So open and honest. She’d basically just given him permission, but he couldn’t do that. Not yet. He owed her the truth before they took it too far. Clearing his throat, he settled on some of it. “I don’t think we should do that tonight.” He closed his eyes to avoid her penetrating stare. “But I want to.”

  He felt her hand on his cheek, and leaned into her touch.

  “Carter?”

  Opening his eyes, he met her gaze. “Yes.”

  “I was going to suggest we take this party outside. . . to the balcony. To talk some more.”

  Carter felt the corners of his mouth quirk up in a smile, and nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

  They spent the next several hours talking out on her balcony, watching the sun set. As darkness settled over the surrounding land, she went into the house and lit a few candles.

  Brooklyn stood up and held out her hand. “How about a game?”

  Unsure where she was coming from, he asked, “What kind of game?”

  “Pool.”

  There was a hint of mischief in her brown eyes, but he took her hand anyway. “Where is there a pool table?”

  “In the clubhouse. We can take a few candles over there and play.”

  Never before had he shot pool by candlelight, but something told him it would be an unforgettable experience.

  * * *

  The walk to the clubhouse was quiet, the only light was the one from his flashlight. Yet, Brooklyn didn’t feel uncomfortable or unsafe. It could have been the fact that they were both armed with their pool cues, but she suspected it was Carter. The entire way there, he held a hand at the small of her back, guiding her through the dark as if he owned the land and knew everything about it. There was so much she didn’t know about him, so much she wanted to learn. Had he served in the military? Did he have kids?

  She knew he had a sister, because they’d talked about her. But did he have brothers? Was his family close? Perhaps it wa
s the social worker in her that wanted answers to those burning questions, but she was smart enough to know it would take time for Carter to truly open up to her.

  In his eyes, she still saw torment. But she also sensed new resolve that hadn’t been there prior to their adventure in the storm last night. Had that sparked this change in him? He went from avoiding her, turning her down, to . . . devouring her.

  Her mouth still burned from that kiss. Brooklyn wouldn’t consider herself an experienced woman, far from it, but she’d had her fair share of kisses. And she could say, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Carter had put everyone she’d ever kissed to shame. At first, she’d tried to convince herself that it was just a kiss. But hell . . . it was not just a kiss. It was more like a revelation, or a confirmation—definitely a precursor. Brooklyn looked forward to feeling his lips against hers again.

  They arrived at the dark clubhouse, and she let them in with her key. He shined his light inside and she walked in first, leading them to the game room.

  The eight-foot pool table was new, and she couldn’t wait to break it in. She set up several candles and lit them.

  “Ta-da,” she said, her arms outstretched. “You ready?”

  “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  Brooklyn liked that Carter was confident in his abilities, but she wasn’t worried about him beating her. “I’m not scared, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

  He racked the balls, motioning to the table. “Ladies first.”

  She brushed past him and applied chalk to her cue stick. “I’ll take it. I’ve been known to break and run. You may not get a turn.”

  Chuckling, he leaned forward, rubbing a hand over the back of her head. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

  Settling into her stance, behind the head string, she aimed. Brooklyn focused, then shot the ball, scattering the balls and knocking two into corner pockets.

  * * *

  “Solid,” she said, as she circled the table looking for the next shot. Leaning against the table edge, she tapped the end of her cue stick on the right corner pocket. Brooklyn’s pose, and the intense look in her eyes, almost did him in. When she shot the ball, dropping it into the pocket, he realized that he’d underestimated her abilities.

  “Good shot,” he mumbled.

  She sauntered around the table, grinning at him. “I know. So how about a wager?”

  Carter took in her confident stride, the focused look in her eyes as she strategized on her next move. “What am I winning?”

  She laughed. “I think I should be asking you that question.”

  He stepped forward, close behind her, dwarfing her. “The fact that you clearly know what you’re doing on this pool table is making me want to rethink my earlier assertion.”

  Carter had never met a woman that made him feel like control was slipping away. Until now. And judging by the way she wiggled her ass against his hardening dick, she knew it too. “I know my way around a lot of things,” she told him.

  “Let’s play for breakfast. If I win, you cook me breakfast. If you win, I’ll buy your breakfast.”

  Her laugh went straight to his groin. “Don’t cook, huh?”

  “Not breakfast.”

  “How do you know I cook?”

  “I actually don’t picture you as a cook, but seeing as how you’ve consistently surprised me, I figured I’d give it a try.”

  “You’re not wrong. I do know how to cook. I just don’t do it much.”

  Carter had more questions, and he knew he needed to move, to make his way around to the other side of the table, away from her. But he stood rooted to his spot, with her in front of him, dangerously close. “Did your father cook?”

  She glanced at him then, lifted a single brow. “My father? Cook? Yeah, right. To answer your question, I learned to cook from the housekeeper, Arlene.” Her family was wealthy enough to employ a housekeeper. He made a mental note to do some investigation of his own. “Who taught you how to shoot?”

  He took her change in subject as a sign that she didn’t want to talk about her father or her housekeeper. Deciding to let it go for now, he answered, “My mother. She’s the best player I’ve ever had the pleasure of beating.”

  “That’s so awesome. A woman after my own heart.”

  Carter wondered what his mother would think of Brooklyn. The thought almost made him retreat back a step. A date was one thing. Introducing Brooklyn to his mother, his family, was quite another. It was also a step that indicated more about his growing feelings for her than he dared to admit out loud.

  She bent low over the table, seemingly not as affected as he was by their position. He took in the arch in her back, the round curve of her ass against him. Then she looked back over her shoulder at him and winked before she took her shot, sinking another ball into the pocket.

  Carter didn’t get a turn until she’d sunk all but one of her balls. His mother would definitely like this woman. He liked her, too. “The game isn’t over yet.”

  That playful grin on her face would be the death of him. She walked around to the other side of the table and stopped right at the pocket he’d called. He imagined she’d swindled many men out of their money with her smile and the gleam in her eyes.

  She leaned forward, bracing herself on the edge of the table and giving him an unobstructed view of the tops of her breasts. Arching a brow, she asked, “Isn’t it?”

  Carter took his shot, grumbling a curse when he came up short. He laughed when she did a cute little twerk of victory. His mother would definitely love her. It didn’t take long before she won the game, but he couldn’t care less. For the first time in years, he’d let himself go, let himself feel, and he’d enjoyed every minute of it.

  Chapter 12

  Five o’clock in the morning. Wait. Five o’clock? She peered at the battery-operated alarm clock, rubbed her sleepy eyes, then peered at the offending phone that hadn’t stopped ringing. Frowning, she picked up the phone, sent it to voicemail, and pitched it across the room. It was her father. She covered her face with her pillow. What the hell does he want?

  The phone rang again, and Brooklyn rolled out of bed, landing on her butt. Growling, she crawled over to the still ringing instrument of torture. She hesitated before answering. “Yes, Daddy?”

  “Brooklyn, I’ve had enough of this. Where are you?”

  “I’m in my skin. I don’t even know why you’re acting concerned about my whereabouts, especially since you had me kicked out of the hotel.”

  “I told you I would do it. You disobeyed me, so I made arrangements. Where. Are. You?”

  Brooklyn’s pulse raced, her heart pounded in her ears. There was no way in hell she’d tell him where she was. It would only cause problems and increase her anxiety. No, he couldn’t kick her out of Parker’s place, but she wasn’t going to fool herself into believing she was untouchable. “Senior, why did you call me at five o’clock in the morning? I have to go to work soon.”

  “Really?”

  She didn’t like the tone in her father’s voice. Something was off. “What do you want?”

  “This has gone on long enough. I expect you to come home tomorrow. And I expect you to fall in line and do what I told you to do.”

  “Marry Sterling?”

  “Exactly.”

  “What’s riding on this? There has to be something to make you treat me like this. I don’t deserve it, and I’m not marrying Sterling.”

  “Tomorrow, Brooklyn Wells.” The emphasis on their last name wasn’t lost on her. “I want to see you at the house tomorrow.”

  He hung up before she could tell him off. Not that she would. Despite everything he’d done to undermine her, she still couldn’t tell him what she really thought about him.

  The power had come on sometime during the night. Unable to sleep, Brooklyn showered and made a cup of coffee. She decided to try and get some work done before she headed into the office. She pulled her patio door open, letting the light breeze in. She hear
d a creek, and peeked out.

  Carter was leaning against the railing and staring out at the river. She smiled, remembering the feel of his lips against hers and the billiards game by candlelight. She’d killed him, all three games, before they’d decided to call it quits.

  Taking in the solemn look in his eyes, the way he seemed almost in a trance, made her feel uneasy. Does he regret last night? She hoped not. The promise of a date with him, an after-the-date with him, made everything in her spark to life.

  Carter had told her that it had been a long time since he’d enjoyed the company of a woman. And she was glad to be the first, but she wondered why. She wanted to ask him, but she supposed the answers would come when he was ready. Just like she’d refused to go into further detail about her father.

  For now, she enjoyed getting to know him without adding the complication of her family into the equation. She cleared her throat, and he spun around to face her. His face softened when he realized it was her.

  Gazes locked, they stood like that for what felt like forever. “How long have you been up?” she asked finally, stepping toward him.

  He walked to the side of the patio closest to hers. She didn’t know why the builder had made the decks so close together, but she was glad for the proximity that morning. Being able to reach out and touch him was a gift that she’d accept freely. She brushed her fingers over the top of his hand, and he flipped his over, clasping her hand in his.

  “I don’t sleep well,” he admitted.

  “I can’t say that. Sleep is one of my favorite things to do.”

  He chucked, low and soft. “You’re so funny.”

  Her heartbeat quickened, and she grew warm under his steady eye contact. “I try.”

  “You’re beautiful, too.”

  “Thank you.” Her voice cracked with overwhelming emotion.

  Brooklyn loved sex, had no problem articulating it to any man that she’d been with. Every lover she’d had—and it hadn’t been too many—had relinquished control to her. For some reason, she knew Carter was different. She sensed that giving over control to him would be the best part of making love, if they should ever make it to that point. Oh God, I hope we make it to that point.