"Excuse me?" I bite my lip. I've never been in a situation like this and have no idea how to handle this…predicament.
"If you're done scolding yourself and over analyzing, I'd like to continue whatever this is back in my room. Possibly with more cake and some of that tequila." His smile should be illegal.
I scoot to get up and feel his hard length on my thigh. My stomach flips and moisture pools between my legs. I want him more than I've ever wanted anyone, but old insecurities threaten to surface. Deep breath.
"I know it's crazy, but I know you feel it too. Please stay with me. For the night," he adds, reaffirming nothing more will come from this. For the night. My stomach drops in disappointment, though I should feel relieved. No. No, don't get clingy.
Like Bea said, I need to get back out there. Why not this guy? It's not like I'll have to see him again, we’re in Santa Barbara, a long way from St. Helena and I've already made an ass of myself. He rubs against me, as if I need convincing, and my fuse is lit again, encouraging me to throw all caution to the wind.
"Will there be cake?" I tease, standing and pulling my dress back into place as he leans down to grab his jacket.
Picking up the cake, he swipes his finger into the fudge icing and spreads it across my lips before leaning in to kiss me, our tastes combining with the chocolate. He deepens the kiss and licks every bit of the icing away before stepping back. "Your wish is my command."
I grab my shoes, forgoing putting them on, and take his free hand. As we walk back toward the resort, he squeezes my hand.
"I'm Carter, by the way."
Looking up at him, mouth open in shock, I realize I never asked his name. Not only is it rude of me, but he just made me come on a balcony, in a public place, a place I was working at hours ago, and I didn’t know his name.
Classy, Camilla. Real classy.
Deciding I could let the reality of the situation mess up the rest of the evening or just go with it, I opt for keeping it light.
“Hmmm, Carter. It suits you, I guess. Personally, I thought pompous ass was a fitting name,” I laugh, and judging by his reaction, I’d say it was the right call.
He stops and pulls me in for a quick kiss. “That’s just what my friends call me. But Carter is my real name, so you’ll know what to yell out when we’re in bed.” He presses into me, further proving his point. If he keeps this up, we’ll never make it to the room.
“How about you? Is Mila your real name?” he asks as we start toward the resort’s collection of exclusive villas.
“Camilla. My real name is Camilla. My closest friends call me Mila,” I explain.
“That’s a beautiful name. What should I call you?”
How do I answer that kind of loaded question? How does he want me to answer it? I settle for transparent honesty. “Whatever you want to call me.”
“Mila, it is.” He laces our fingers together and turns to me. “Here we are.” I look up to see a beautiful stone building with a large wooden door.
“Private villa, huh?” I tease as he unlocks the door and holds it open for me.
“I like my privacy. Plus, now you can be as loud as you want.” Leaning in, he nibbles my ear as I pass by him.
Chapter 8
Carter
The door closes with a snick and the lock clicking into place causes her to jump. I set the cake on the entry table and drop my phone and keycard next to it.
Reaching out, I pull her into my arms and hold her in a silent embrace. We could barely contain ourselves a few minutes ago in the open, but now that we're in private, I don't know where to start. "Would you like a drink?" I pull away and look down at her.
"No thanks," she replies, breathless.
"How about a bath?" Walking farther into the room, I throw my jacket over the back of a chair and turn on the lamp. That was random. Shit. She probably thinks I'm just trying to get her naked right away. Which I am, but I want her to relax, not take advantage of her.
"Um...well, I thought—I dunno." She twists her hands at her waist.
Lifting her chin, I focus on her eyes. "I didn't mean together. I mean, I would love that, but I figured you've had a long day and thought it might be relaxing."
She looks around the room and I wonder what she's thinking. I can almost see the wheels turning, as if she's weighing her options.
"Come with me." Taking her hand, I lead her to the sofa and ease her down before taking a seat across from her on the ottoman. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to do. But I'm not gonna lie, I want you so bad, I can hardly stand it."
The look she gives me before averting her gaze is a mixture of awe and disbelief.
"Hey, I'm serious. If you don't want this to go any further, that's fine, but I'm gonna have to take a cold shower really quick."
She looks back at me, gauging my response, and I press her hand against my dick so she can see just how serious I am. Her gaze flicks to mine, and I hear her quick intake of breath.
"Tell me what you want, Mila. Don't be afraid."
I take it slow, not wanting her to feel pressured. I'm used to doing this type of thing—one night stands are kind of my MO—but I have a feeling this isn't something she does.
Her defiance and wit is all her. Her boldness is a result of what she feels, not because she has ulterior motives. But when she starts to lose control, she reins in it. I want to help her unleash that. The best part is she has no idea who I am. No preconceived notions of Carter Brooks, the playboy.
"Tell me," I urge her.
"You." The word is barely audible, a whisper.
Her hand still against me begins stroking me through my pants.
"This." I search her face to make sure. "You," she says louder, slightly more urgent. "Tonight."
Standing, I scoop down, throw her over my shoulder, and carry her to the bedroom. "That’s good to hear. I want you too." She giggles at my reply.
"Plus, I seem to remember being promised chocolate cake," she teases, and I'm glad to see her humor has returned.
"Oh, I've got something sweet for you." Setting her down at the foot of the bed, I start to unbutton my shirt, and she joins in. The light scrape of her nails against my chest as she fumbles with the buttons makes me so hard, I’m worried I’ll embarrass myself any second.
My shirt falls to the floor and I give her time to explore my chest, but my restraint is slipping. She runs her silky palms down to my abs and back up again. When she tentatively reaches out to kiss my chest, I take her hands in mine to still them.
"Did I do something wrong?" She looks at me through hooded lashes.
"Not at all. It's just that I want this to be amazing for you, and if you keep touching me like that, this will be over way too soon. What I have planned for you, baby, is gonna take all night."
Her mouth widens in shock, forming a perfect O, and I imagine those lips wrapped tightly around me.
"Turn around," I order, needing to get her out of this dress. She follows orders, in the bedroom at least, and that's a major turn on.
Bringing my hands up, I slip the straps off her shoulders, then reach for the exposed silver zipper, sliding it slowly down her body. Creamy white skin exposed with every inch makes my mouth water to taste her.
So, I do. Pushing her hair out of the way, I lick my way up the column of her neck. She leans her head back against my chest, her moans the only encouragement I need.
She stands before me, clutching her dress against her front like a shield. Wrapping my arms around her, I tug her hands, and the soft, dark fabric pools around her feet. She looks like a goddess—all curves, pale skin practically glowing against the contrast of the lacey lingerie, long, dark hair spilling around her shoulders. I walk around her, drinking her in, and she watches me, eyes wide.
"You look better than any cake I've ever had. I can't wait to taste you," I warn her.
She rewards me with a smile. Reaching up, she unclasps her strapless bra and lets it fall to the floor, revealing perfect fu
ll tits. My mouth falls open. "What are you waiting for?" she asks, toying with me, and I toss her back on the bed.
"You'll pay for that, you little minx." She giggles as she scoots up the bed, and I crawl my way up her body, kissing as I go, causing her giggles to turn into moans.
Calves. Moan.
Knees. Moan.
Thighs. Moan.
Hip bones. Moan.
Positioning myself between her legs, I prop up on my elbows, careful not to crush her, and draw lazy circles across her stomach with my tongue. She covers her chest with her arms, and I tsk, wanting her to open up, to let go. "Hands above your head, and keep them there." She complies, her chest now arched and in my face.
I take my time licking around her breasts and sucking them into my mouth one at a time. She begins moving against me, and my body falls into rhythm with hers as she grips and claws at the sheets.
Sitting up, I tap her hip so she lifts, and tug her panties down her legs before tucking them into my back pocket. I spread her thighs wider, holding her legs open as I bite and nip my way up. She bucks and my mouth finds its intended target. One swipe of my tongue and her back arches off the bed. Then another. And another. I replace my tongue with a finger, curving it and rubbing her spot. I've barely touched her, and she's drenched. "You're so wet for me."
"Carter!" she cries out as I continue to massage her, alternating between my mouth and fingers. "Please!" Her hands break their hold on the sheets and her fingers thread into my hair, gripping, holding me in place.
She rides my face, taking what she needs, and I increase my tempo, sending her almost over the edge, her legs wrapping around my shoulders and clamping tightly.
I want to make this last, but I'm painfully hard for her, so I make her come with my mouth first. I feel it as it takes hold. Her body begins to shake and her moans get louder and louder. I lap up everything she gives me. Her legs relax and fall back to the bed, arms thrown carelessly over her head. I like seeing her like this: relaxed, sated.
While she's still coming down, I sit back on my heels and grab a condom from my wallet.
Feeling the shift of the bed, she sits up, kneeling to face me, our knees touching. She looks incredible sexy—naked, flushed, hair all wild.
Reaching for my pants, she licks her lips, and I let her take the lead. She unclasps them, shoves them down my hips, then reaches into my boxer briefs and frees me. Her eyes go wide as her hand moves up and down, stroking me. I clench my eyes shut and struggle not to blow my load right there in her hand.
My hips buck into her fist as she works me over. I need to get rid of these clothes.
Sliding back off the bed, I stand to remove my pants and boxers. She never takes those hungry green eyes off me. I run my hand over my shaft, once, twice, then tear the foil and roll the condom on, more than ready to be inside her.
Climbing my way up her body, I lay her back and settle between her thighs. I grip her sides, dragging my hands down her ribs before coming to rest on her hips and scooting her closer to me.
Lining up at her entrance, I look down at her, wanting to lock away the image, and edge into her. Her eyes flutter closed as she moans, "Carter."
I press deeper, and she stretches for me. So tight. "Babe, feels so good." Inch by inch, I fill her up and pause, allowing her time to adjust. She lifts her hips, so I rock into her, giving her the friction she's looking for.
Taking her hands in mine, I tangle our fingers and settle them on the pillow above her head as I pull out slowly and push back in, adjusting my angle to reach deeper.
Our bodies find a natural rhythm and it doesn't take long for a slow burn to start in the pit of my stomach. A light sheen of sweat covers my skin as I climb toward climax, not even caring that it's coming so fast. "Come with me, Mila. Now," I growl, driving into her harder and harder.
"Carter, yesss!" she screams.
On command, her body releases, walls tightening as she milks my orgasm from me. Waves of pleasure crash through my body, and I open my eyes to find her looking right at me.
What passes between us is way more intimate than anything we've done this evening—a look that both terrifies and excites me.
Our movements still, and I free my hands to cradle her face. Without breaking eye contact, I kiss her, my lips lingering across hers, worshipping her. She sighs into my mouth, and I close my eyes, resting my forehead against hers, finding this all a little intense.
Chapter 9
Carter
After cleaning up, I grab us both waters and climb into the bed, pulling her against me. I slide the bottle of water over her side and hiss when she jerks back, rubbing her ass along the hardness that’s already returned. “Insatiable, are we?” she teases, and I grip her hips, stopping her.
"With you, it would seem so," I admit, placing a kiss to the back of her head.
"That was…uh…" she trails off.
"Wow," I finish her thought, squeezing her tightly. "Do you need to let your friend know you won't be coming back to the room? Let her know you’re safe?"
She rolls over and looks at me as if I have two heads. "You want me to stay?" Her eyes watch me, full of questions.
"Do you want to stay?" I raise a brow, giving her a get-out-of-jail-free card—the only one I'm going to offer.
When she doesn't answer, I lower my mouth to her shoulder and lick my way up to her ear.
"You're making it a little hard to concentrate," she accuses as she nuzzles closer.
"That's the whole point." The licking turns to sucking, and a breathy moan escapes her lips.
"So, you want me to stay?" She wraps her arms around my neck as I roll her onto her back, pushing myself up so I can look down at her.
"Well, I thought that was implied. How rude of me to assume," I tease as I thrust between her legs.
"You know what they say about people who assume." She grins like the Cheshire Cat.
"Touché. And I'd hate to add presumptuous to my title. Pompous already takes up so much room on my name plate." She laughs, a genuine belly laugh, and it's my new favorite sound. Well…a close second behind hearing her come.
"It's settled then. You're staying." I end the conversation with a sweet kiss.
"Okay," she murmurs against my lips. "But if we can pause for one second, I really need to use the restroom to freshen up."
Reluctantly, I roll off her and walk to my suitcase. Grabbing a fresh pair of boxers, I slip them on and snag a t-shirt.
"Here." I offer her the shirt, so she has something comfortable to put on, and run my hand through my hair before resting it on my neck. The whole after part of sex is new to me, and being out of my element has me unsure of what to do next.
She stays still on the bed, the sheet draped over her, inspecting the worn grey shirt. "Harvard?" she asks, brows raising.
Clearing my throat, I shrug. "Yeah."
When she remains quiet, eyeing me for a moment, my back tenses, waiting for the part where she asks about my family or career. Women typically equate Ivy League school with money and a name. But the question never comes. Instead, she takes the shirt and pulls it over her head.
"Thanks. It's comfy," she says with a smile before hopping off the bed and walking to the bathroom, leaving my mouth gaping in shock. This girl continues to throw me off-guard—in a good way.
I stare at the closed bathroom door for a moment before swiping a hand down my face. I was so sure there would be questions, I don’t know how to handle the fact that there weren’t. My eyes sweep over the room before landing on the cake I left by the door. With a smirk, I grab the plate and crawl back in bed to wait for her.
When she walks out, my eyes widen. How hard she got me in that sexy black dress is nothing compared to what seeing her in my t-shirt does. The worn cotton straining over her full chest, the hem barely hitting her thighs…
"Like what you see?" she taunts as she climbs back in the bed. Licking my lips, I nod.
"How about you?" I lift the plate of choco
late cake.
"Very much." It's her turn to lick her lips as I lift a forkful to her mouth. Closing her mouth around the fork, she sucks away any remaining icing, and I nearly groan. I've never been so jealous of flatware.
Another little moan and her eyes open to see me watching her. "What, haven't you ever seen a woman eat chocolate cake before?"
"Yes. I've just never seen one enjoy it so thoroughly." I reach up and brush away some stray crumbs from her lips with my thumb. "It's sexy."
Her eyes light up at my confession as she sucks my thumb into her mouth, and the cake is once again forgotten.
********
A pulsing beep wakes me. My eyes adjust to the dark room and warm breath tickles my bare chest. Looking down, I see the gorgeous brunette and last night comes flooding back.
The wedding.
The angry phone call.
Finding Mila on the balcony.
Her calling me a pompous ass.
Watching her dance.
Dancing with her.
Making her come on the balcony.
Bringing her back to my villa.
Countless orgasms.
Chocolate cake.
Her falling asleep in my arms.
Continued beeps grab my attention and I slip out of bed. Careful not to wake her, I grab my phone off the nightstand and head to the bathroom.
"This better be good," I answer, annoyed this couldn't wait until daylight.
"Son, nice to talk to you too."
"Spare me the pleasantries, Dad. Why are you calling so early?"
"It's not so early in New York. It's nearly seven a.m. But I didn't call to discuss time zones. If it weren't important, I wouldn't have called. It's AJ. There's been an incident."
Christ. Running a hand through my hair, I release a ragged breath. "What do you mean an incident?"
"AJ showed up at the country club where your mother was having one of her luncheons or committee things…whatever it was, drunk, and started making wild accusations that upset your mother. Went so far as to threaten her. You need to get home and fix this."
St. Helena Vineyard Series: Something Borrowed (Kindle Worlds Novella) Page 3