“Carter, I can’t,” I begged.
“Yes, you can, sugar.” The need in his voice alone jolted my entire body and I jumped. He continued to pump his hips, taking his pleasure and leaving me writhing on the bed. But soon, a tingling began down in my toes and moved up my legs until it erupted in my core, filling my entire body. I clung to Carter, who leaned down, embracing me in a bear hug, and shivered as his body released its own orgasm.
For a long while we laid like that, glued to one another. Our sweaty skin clinging to each other, as our breaths caught.
“You are amazing.” He picked his head up, staring at me, satisfaction filling those ocean blues of his. “I love you.”
I just stared at him, unable to speak because I was already worn out from the two orgasms and this was the biggest shock of all. He meant it. There was no doubt in my mind that he meant every part of those three words.
Leaning down, he kissed the tip of my nose. “I’ll be right back.” He pulled free of my body and I moaned at the feeling of his withdrawal from me. I watched as he moved to a closed door and opened it. I saw that it was a bathroom. Seconds later he returned with a warm towel, wiping me before returning to the bathroom. He shut the light off when he returned and got back in the bed, enfolding me in his arms, spooning me.
“I love you, too,” I whispered.
After a few moments of silence he returned, “I know,” right before I fell asleep.
~ Chapter Twelve ~
Michelle
I felt his eyes on me before I opened mine.
“Do you always watch people in their sleep?” I asked, my eyes still closed.
The low rumble of his chuckle had my nipples tingling already. “Just you, sugar. Just you.”
I peeled my eyes open to see his, and the tingling moved from my breasts, down my abdomen, and into my sensitive folds.
“Did you sleep well?” He reached up and moved a lock of hair that had fallen over my face.
“Yes,” I answered, covering my mouth with my hand.
His brow wrinkled. “What’re you doing?”
“Morning breath,” I whispered.
He laughed and sat up, stripping the covers from our bodies.
“Carter!” I shouted when he lifted me off the bed with such ease. He obviously loved carrying me. “What are you doing?” I returned his question.
“Bathroom. So we can brush our teeth.”
Naked as the day we were born he strutted to the bathroom, and placed me in between the two faucets on the porcelain countertop.
“Two sinks?” I questioned, looking between the faucets.
“His and hers.” He gestured his head toward the sink he stood in front of and then the other one.
“You have his and her sinks?” I questioned, folding my arms over my breasts, anger starting to form in my pit.
His hand paused on the plastic wrapper of the toothbrush he’d been opening. He moved a few inches to stand in front of me, between my legs. He didn’t speak for a long while, instead letting his gaze rove over my face, down my body, and stopping at my breasts. As soon as he did, they began throbbing, aching for his touch again. But I held onto my anger as best I could.
“I had this house built two years ago. And you’re the first guest outside of my family that has ever seen the inside of it.”
I wanted to ask if he was being serious, but I knew what his response would be.
“I had it built for the family I knew I’d have one day. And the only woman I’d allow inside would be the woman I married and gave my name to.” He stared at me so fiercely, so intently that my mouth went dry. I didn’t have a response to his declaration and apparently he didn’t need one. He pressed a quick kiss to my opened lips and stepped back, finished opening the toothbrush, ran it under water, applied the toothpaste, and handed it to me before saying, “Brush your teeth since you’re so concerned with morning breath. I want you to be minty fresh before I take you again right here on this counter.”
I gasped and grabbed the toothbrush from him. I swore I was soaking the ceramic countertop by how wet his statements had just made me.
“Don’t move from this position,” he growled. “Brush.”
I obeyed, brushing my teeth, all the while him staring at me as he did the same. He handed me a glass of water and I rinsed my mouth. And true to his word, he took the used toothbrush from me, tossing it aside, moved in between my legs, and unwrapped another foil wrapper. He slipped the condom on his veiny shaft just before nudging my knees apart, and he claimed me again in the bathroom.
“What would you like for breakfast?” he asked as we descended the stairs a little while later. I wore the shirt he’d donned the night before, while Carter had on a pair of jogging pants and nothing else.
“You have food?” I questioned, snarkily, which earned me a smack on my ass. “Ouch!”
“Come here, lemme kiss it,” he insisted when I yelped and rubbed my backside.
“I had to ask. No way you have no furniture but have a refrigerator full of food.”
“I got anything you want. And whatever I don’t have, we can have ordered.”
He guided me to the open kitchen area. He picked me up yet again and sat me on the granite counter of the kitchen island. He moved from me to the large, metal double doors of the refrigerator, pulling it open. I was delighted to find that it was filled with groceries.
“I don’t need furniture to feel at home but I do need good food.”
I frowned. “I thought you said you didn’t like cooking?”
“I said I don’t like cooking for myself. I do it when I have to but I much prefer cooking for others.”
“I stand corrected.” I smiled.
He turned to look at me over his shoulder. “I love a woman who can admit when she’s wrong.”
My belly did backwards somersaults. That was the second time he’d mentioned the word love in less than twelve hours.
“Careful with that L word. Say it too many times and I might get used to it.” I almost said, I might believe it, but I already did. This man didn’t lie to get what he wanted from women.
“You might as well get used to it, sugar. You’ll be hearing it a lot more from here on out.”
He turned back to the fridge and I hungrily watched the contoured muscles of his back flex and ripple with even the slightest movements of his. Unlike his chest, his back didn’t hold any tattoos but his arm did. From what I was able to make out, it had something to do with the army.
“How about I prepare my world famous banana French toast? Do you eat sausage?”
“Sure do. And what’s so world famous about your French toast?”
“Because only a select few have ever gotten me to make it for them. Very few people outside of my family, my best friend, Andy, and my brothers down at the station house have had my French toast. It’s famous for being so secretive.” He gathered all the ingredients, placing them on the counter next to me.
“Can I help?” I offered.
“You are helping.”
“I’m just sitting here.”
“Exactly. Your beautiful face and tousled hair is all the inspiration I need.”
I laughed. “That makes no sense.” But I wasn’t about to argue any further. I fixed breakfast for a very picky six-year-old boy every morning. A break from cooking was well in order.
“You want to help. Tell me about Diego.”
My eyebrow raised. “My son?”
He nodded, staring down at the bowl he was now mashing up two overripe bananas in. “You said he’s the most important thing in your life. Tell me about him.”
My heartstrings tugged at the thought of my little boy. “I was twenty-three when he was born, and from the day he entered this world he’s been the center of mine.”
He glanced up at me with smiling eyes and I felt safe enough to continue.
“He was the sweetest baby. Only crying when he was really hungry or needed to be changed. He’d go to just about anyb
ody.” I laughed. “He’s still like that today. He’s never met a stranger. He’s in the second grade and does well in all his classes, but the only common complaint from teachers since he was in preschool, was that his teachers can’t get him to stop talking.” I grinned, shaking my head. “Earlier this school year, I went to a parent-teacher conference and the teacher complained about his talking. I asked Diego about it and he said ‘It’s not my fault, Mama. Michael's new to our school and didn’t have any friends. I just wanted him to feel welcomed.’ How am I supposed to get mad at that?”
“You got me there. I hope you took him out for ice cream.”
I giggled. “I actually did. He’s so sensitive, and wants everyone to feel included. My sweet boy.”
“He sounds like a good kid.”
“He’s the best. Except when he insists I make his blueberry pancakes and eggs every morning for his breakfast.”
“Every morning?” Carter moved to the other side of me, placing a pan on one of the eye’s of the stove.
“Yup.” I nodded. “He will only eat my blueberry pancakes and eggs. Homemade by the way. He refuses anything from the box. And I have to pack his lunches every morning because he will only eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, cut into triangles, that have been made by Mom or Grandma. He insists on fruit with his lunch, but it has to be cut up, no matter what type of fruit. Even his grapes must be cut in half.”
“He sounds like a riot,” he laughed, flipping the first two slices of French toast.
“That smells delicious.” I nodded at the pan.
“It’ll taste even better.”
“I bet it will.”
Our eyes caught and before I knew it, Carter was in front of me, taking his fill of my lips before moving back to the stove. I licked my lips, savoring the kiss that hadn’t lasted long enough.
“What about his father?”
My body froze, a thread of fear moving down my spine. I’d almost forgotten about Gabriel. I wished I could forget all about him. I turned back to Carter’s whose eyes were on the stove. I was sure he’d missed my bodily reaction at the mention of Diego’s father.
“He’s not in the picture. Not really.”
He dredged another slice of bread through the banana and egg mixture before placing it into the hot pan. He lowered the temperature of the stove’s eye before turning fully to me again.
“He’s not around?”
I swallowed and took a sip of the bottle of water he’d given me earlier.
“Not regularly. He’s been inconsistent.”
“Does he provide financial support?”
“Some.” And by some, I meant only paying for Diego’s school expenses, but that was enough for me. Excelor Academy was the most expensive and exclusive school in the city.
Carter’s jaw tightened, as if he was grinding his teeth together.
“Breakfast is almost done, looks like,” I stated, infusing my voice with excitement. I was ready to get off the subject of Gabriel.
“Taste test first,” he said before cutting a piece of one of the pieces of bread. He brought it over to me on a fork, holding it up in front of my mouth. “Open.”
My jaw slackened, falling open at his command. He slid the fork into my mouth, pulling it out slowly once my lips had clamped down around it. I chewed, relishing the sweet taste of banana and the delightfully soft texture of the French toast. By the time I swallowed, I was ready for my next bite, and Carter was waiting to feed me again.
I ate my entire breakfast on that kitchen counter ― Carter feeding me forkful after forkful of French toast, sausage, and some fruit he’d cut up. I don’t even remember him eating himself, instead he seemed to be satiated from watching me eat. It was the best meal I’d had in a very long time.
****
Carter
“How come you parked your car in the driveway?”
I peered over at Michelle’s wet body, still wrapped in a towel from the shower we’d taken together. She sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing her body down with moisturizing cream. I, once again, made a silent note in my head to send her mother a bouquet of flowers for agreeing to keep Michelle’s son until that evening. I’d asked her to remain with me for the rest of the day and thanks to her mom, she agreed.
“Carter,” her voice snapped my attention back to her face.
“Sorry, sugar. I get lost looking at you.”
She rolled her eyes but the smile that broke out on her face said what she was really thinking.
“What’d you ask?”
“I asked how come you parked your car in the garage.”
“Oh. ’Cause my garage is reserved for my real vehicle.”
She frowned.
“Finish dressing and I’ll show you.” I threw a dark T-shirt over my head and a pair of faded jeans. We had plans to go see a movie. I was doing my best to be a gentleman and not keep her in bed all day, her legs locked around my waist. But that’s what I really wanted to do.
A few minutes later, we were headed to my garage through the mudroom. I opened the door and took her hand.
“Watch your step,” I said, gesturing toward the three concrete stairs that led to the main garage space. In the middle sat my second favorite baby. Obviously, my Ducati had moved to number two on my list since Michelle came along.
“Whoa,” she stated. “That’s a serious motorcycle.”
I grinned. “She gets parked in the garage. The Yukon remains outside,” I stated, answering her question from earlier.”
“You’re such a guy.” She giggled when I pulled her to me, encircling her waist.
“What’s that mean?”
“It means you’re such a guy. You have no … practically no furniture,” she corrected herself. “And two very up-to-date vehicles. The cost of one of which could probably furnish this entire home.”
“Probably,” I agreed. “But I’m not a guy. I’m a man. A man who waited for the right woman to come along to even think about furnishing any part of my home. I wanted this place to be hers as much as it is mine.”
Her shoulders sagged a little, and she lowered her face to my chest. “When you say things like that …” She trailed off.
“What? You believe me?”
She sighed but remained silent for a long while. My hands tightened around her waist. I was doing my absolute best to hold back. Yes, it was very early in our relationship but my instincts never lied. They’d saved my ass more times than I could count. And I was a Townsend. My father had told all of his sons that Townsend men just know when they’ve met the right one. We were laser focused in that area. I hadn’t paid him much attention when I was younger, but since the first time I’d met Michelle, she’d made a believer out of me. I’d pursue her with more intensity than I had when joining the army or fighting fires.
Her head popped up from my chest. “Let’s go for a ride.” Her eyes were wide with anticipation.
“We’ll miss the movie, sugar.”
She shrugged. “There’ll be other movies. Please.”
My knees damn near buckled at the sight and sound of her pleading. I was a strong man. Fuck that, I felt damn near indestructible most days, having survived countless close calls, but a short plea from her and the mere idea of denying her whatever she wanted was unfathomable.
I withdrew my hand from her waist and reached to the nearby shelf, pulling one of my extra helmets from it.
She frowned. “It’ll mess up my hair.”
“No helmet. No ride.” Turns out there were some things I could deny her. “Safety is paramount.”
“I bet you’ve ridden without a helmet.”
“I’m willing to risk my own life. Not yours. Put on the helmet, sugar.”
I was actually slightly saddened when her pout was covered up by the helmet. I pressed the button to open the garage door and pulled the bike out and around my Yukon. When that was done, I removed the helmet from Michelle’s head to give her a few pointers on how to hold onto me as we rode. Her
excitement spilled over onto me and I silently asked God for his protection as we set out, knowing that I’d be too easily distracted by the pressing of her breasts to my back. I pulled her arms tightly around my waist, and looked over my shoulder.
“You ready?”
She nodded and I revved the engine a little before pulling off. I laughed when Michelle gave a little yell of excitement. Instead of going out the main entrance of the community, I circled around and took the back street, that led to a long, windy, mostly secluded road. We rode on that road for close to forty-five minutes, speeding up to fifty miles per hour. I often went much faster on my bike, but I wasn’t willing to take that chance with my woman on the back. When I finally stopped, we’d reached an overlook that peered down onto Williamsport.
“When can I have a turn at driving?” Michelle questioned once she ripped her helmet off, and swung her hair away from her face a little. We were sitting face-to-face on my bike with the engine off.
I pulled her face to me, kissing her lips because I needed to.
“Never,” I answered once I pulled back. “Frown all you want.”
She giggled. “That was fun.”
“First time on a motorcycle?”
She nodded. “But not my last.”
“Only if it’s my bike.”
“I wouldn’t trust anyone else.”
My damn chest tightened.
“Do you come out here a lot?” She looked around, taking note of the lake that wasn’t too far from where we parked.
“Sometimes.”
“It’s beautiful here. Close enough to the city, but still quiet.”
“It’s why Josh decided to start a development here.”
“Josh is the brother right after you, right?”
I nodded.
“And Tyler is the youngest.”
My eyes narrowed at the mention of my youngest, dipshit brother.
“You complain about them but it’s obvious how much you love them.”
I turned my eyes back on Michelle who was observing me.
“Even the mean one.”
I smirked at her description of Aaron.
“What’s his deal?”
I shook my head. “What isn’t his deal? He’s been through some things, I guess,” I replied, making light of Aaron’s background.
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