His eyes were so dark with desire that she couldn’t look away. She swallowed hard and prayed he wasn’t going to change his mind. That sanity hadn’t returned, because she wasn’t sure how she’d be able to respond—or stay here and look at him for another day or even another minute—knowing he didn’t want her as much as she wanted him.
“Be sure,” he said, his voice low and rumbly, a warning. “Because once we go through that door, I don’t think we can turn back.”
She nearly sobbed with relief. “Keep walking, Carter.”
With a curt nod, he captured her lips again and kissed her right there without moving, until she thought she’d go mad. When he finally lifted his head, he gave her a sexy grin. “You’re still not the boss of me, Em,” he teased.
But then he walked into his bedroom and gently placed her on the center of the bed. She was glad to let him call the shots. The look he was giving her made her feel like she was the feast and he was starving.
Carter’s hand rested on her ankle and began skimming up her leg.
“Do you remember the first night I showed up at the condo?” he asked, his voice still low and gruff.
Emery nodded.
“You were wearing a clingy little T-shirt and a pair of panties and I just about swallowed my tongue.” He shook his head and let out a long breath as his hand continued to touch her. “I didn’t want to think of you like that,” he said, lowering his voice, “as an incredibly sexy woman—but now I can’t seem to think of anything else. You realize you’ve turned me upside down since then, right?”
Seriously? Emery shook her head, unable to believe what he was telling her. It wasn’t possible. She’d never believed she could be the kind of woman capable of making a man—any man—feel like that. Especially not someone like Carter.
He smiled down at her. “You can shake your head all you want, but it’s the truth.” Leaning forward, he braced both of his arms on the bed on either side of her head until she could feel his breath on her face. “And the night I kissed you? It had nothing to do with shutting you up and everything to do with me wanting you.”
Gasping, her eyes went wide. But before she could shake her head again with disbelief, Carter was kissing her. Devouring her. And it was glorious. She wrapped herself around him, reveling in how good he felt—welcoming his weight as she pulled him down on top of her—and gave as good as she got.
On and on it went until she lost all concept of time. She was on sensory overload and the only thing she knew was that she wanted—needed—more. Her clothes felt too restrictive. Every inch of her body was humming and straining and desperate for the feel of Carter’s skin brushing against hers.
It was madness.
It was heaven.
It was…
Carter sat up and rolled away from her and off the bed. Emery blinked up at him in confusion. Was this it? Were they done? Did she do something wrong?
Oh God, she thought, was she bad at this?
Then, much to her delight, Carter peeled his shirt up and over his head, and Emery forgot to breathe.
He was magnificent to look at.
Reading the naked desire on her face, he grinned down at her. “Watch out, Em. Because I’m going to look at you just like that when it’s your turn.”
Somehow she doubted it, but it was nice that he would put it out there.
He kicked off his shoes, peeled off his socks, and then his jeans were gone and he stood beside the bed in nothing but navy-blue boxers that barely contained him.
She was pretty sure she was gaping.
Reaching for her hand, Carter gently tugged her up to a sitting position and then to her feet. His smile was feral as his hands snaked under her T-shirt. “My turn,” he murmured. His hands slowly slid up her ribcage, taking the shirt with it, and in the blink of an eye, it was off.
She said a silent prayer of thanks that she had on a sexy push-up bra, because once he saw her without it, no doubt he’d be a little disappointed.
Body-image issues sucked.
Holding her breath, Emery watched as Carter’s gaze roamed over her. It was as exciting as it was nerve-racking. His hands cupped her breasts and it felt so good that soon her head slowly fell back, she closed her eyes, and let herself feel. The last thing she wanted was to watch him for any signs of disappointment.
“You’re perfect,” he murmured, and then his lips were kissing her through her bra and she trembled in his arms. “So perfect.”
Before she knew it, she was down to nothing but her panties, and they were moving back onto the bed. And just as she had predicted, the skin to skin contact was amazing. Carter was all smooth muscle and she couldn’t seem to stop touching him—his chest, his arms, his back… It was like she couldn’t get enough. The good thing was, he did the same to her. Their lips and hands were never idle, and it was the most foreplay she’d ever experienced.
Rolling them over, Carter looked up at her, his hands instantly cupping her breasts again. The raw heat she saw on his face was almost enough to make her orgasm right then and there.
“This is how I pictured you,” he said after a long minute.
Unable to help herself, Emery was moving against him, showing what she wanted them to be doing rather than talking.
“Just like this,” he went on. “I wanted to watch you take control, to take what you want, because that’s when you’re most spectacular.”
His words were another form of foreplay she had never experienced before. There wasn’t anything particularly dirty about them, yet they had the same effect.
And just when she thought this was it—they were finally going to do this—Carter flipped them over again until she was flat on her back. He grinned down at her.
“Then I realized this was the way I wanted you the first time.” His voice was a near-growl as he took her lips in a kiss that was rough and wild and untamed and so exactly what she wanted. “Let me have you like this,” he said breathlessly between kisses. “Just like this.”
And she did.
* * *
If anyone had told him fast-food burgers would work as an aphrodisiac, he would have told them they were insane.
But now?
Um…yeah. He was totally blaming it on the fast food.
Well, that and the fact that he had pretty much been on sensory overload where Emery was concerned for weeks and it didn’t matter what it was that they were doing, he had wanted her.
Still wanted her.
And they had barely caught their breath from the first time.
She was sprawled out beside him—half of her gloriously naked body on his—and his hand was tracing lazy circles on her spine.
She destroyed him.
Even now, lying here thinking about the events of the last hour, he couldn’t wrap his brain around it. In his entire life, he’d never met a woman who made him feel the way Emery did. She challenged him, angered him, amused him, and aroused him—and clearly not just in the ordinary and mundane aspects of life, but here in the bedroom as well. They were so compatible here that it—
It scared the hell out of him.
Yeah, no woman had ever made him feel like he’d found his other half before.
But this woman did.
Beside him, some of the tension was coming back into her body and he knew she was probably having the same inner dialogue as he was.
What had they done?
This was something people did every day. Sex was amazing and fulfilling and mutually satisfying. But sex with someone you’ve known your entire life?
It changed everything.
So yeah—what the hell had they done?
“If you scratch my skin any harder, you’ll be scratching organs,” she murmured with a hint of humor.
His hand instantly stilled as he realized his mind had wandered. “Sorry.”
Kissing the top of her head, Carter waited to see how she’d respond.
Emery pulled back and looked at him and his heart kicked hard in his chest.
She was beautiful.
Her hair was in disarray, her skin was flushed, and she took his breath away. He wanted to tell her—to say all of that to her—but…it felt awkward.
And that’s when he saw it. Right before his eyes, her expression changed. Fell. Reaching out, he cupped her cheek. “Hey,” he said softly. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re having regrets,” she said sadly. “I can see it in your face. You’re looking at me and…and I can see you’re uncomfortable.” Carefully, she rolled away from him, taking the sheet with her. “Just…just give me a minute to get my clothes on and—if you don’t mind, don’t watch. I’ll go and—”
He never let her finish. In a flash, he pulled her back and had her beneath him. Her eyes sparked with anger, then confusion, before she finally settled and waited him out.
“I wasn’t having regrets,” he explained. “You leaned up and I was looking at you, and all I could think was how beautiful you are. I wanted to say it—wanted to tell you—but…” He sighed and rested his forehead against hers. “I wasn’t sure how you’d react to me saying that to you.”
The smile she gave him was full of relief before turning impish.
He was almost afraid to ask why she was looking at him that way.
“You were afraid to tell me you thought I was beautiful?” she said lightly, playfully.
“I wouldn’t say afraid, exactly…”
The look she gave him told her he wasn’t fooling her at all. Her hands smoothed up his arms and into his hair. “Uh-huh.”
The only way to shut her up was to prove her wrong. “You’re beautiful,” he said gruffly. “Utterly and completely beautiful.”
Her soft gasp preceded a dreamy smile and he was suddenly at a loss for words.
Emery slid one foot up the side of his leg and let it rest on the small of his back, repeating the move with the other. Once her legs were wrapped around him, he felt his arousal stirring back to life.
He congratulated himself on the quick recovery time.
Clearly, Emery had noticed it as well because she squirmed beneath him in a very sexy move that took him from the first stirrings of arousal to ready to go in the blink of an eye.
Beneath him, she let out a sexy little hum. “Why, Carter…do you have something for me?”
Most. Loaded. Question. Ever.
He canted his hips back and forth and grinned down at her. “I don’t know. You tell me.”
Her laugh was husky and she pulled him closer to kiss him soundly. “It definitely feels like you do.” Another kiss.
“Is that okay with you?” he asked, suddenly feeling a little concerned that he was overenthusiastic in his need for her.
She let out another little laugh that turned into a breathy sigh as she rubbed against him. “Mmm-hmm. In fact…” She moved again and gasped as he hit a particularly sensitive spot.
“In fact…” he prompted.
“Dammit, Carter, you know what I want…” Her head fell back, her throat arched, and her eyes closed as she continued to show him with her body exactly what she wanted. “Don’t make me beg.”
Rather than torture them both any longer, he was more than willing to forgo the begging.
* * *
It was well after nine in the evening when they finally sat down to dinner. It wasn’t the massive Christmas feast that Carter was supposed to make—they’d opted to hold off until tomorrow—but were enjoying some omelets he had whipped up.
And eating on the living room floor in front of the Christmas tree.
He wanted to be disappointed that he hadn’t prepared all the fabulous food he’d been thinking about for days, but he couldn’t. Not when he had a scantily clad Emery sitting beside him with a big smile on her face. She looked like a kid on Christmas morning as she gazed up at the tree, telling him about all the decorations she normally put on hers and why they held significance for her.
“Honestly, my mother cringes every year when she comes over,” she was saying. “We never had a personalized tree. Every ornament was perfectly placed and we were never allowed to touch them.” She shuddered. “The first Christmas I was on my own, I went a little wild. I bought ornaments every time I went shopping and then had a hell of a time trying to find a tree to fit them all!”
He laughed with her. “And did you?”
She nodded excitedly. “That was another great thing—I bought a real tree that year. Going to a tree lot was a little out of my comfort zone, because I had no idea what I should be looking for, but the owners—a really nice elderly couple—let me ask a ton of questions and then helped me find one.” She smiled dreamily. “It was the perfect tree. But I almost destroyed it.”
“How?”
“They tied it to my car for me and I drove away feeling so happy, planning how I was going to decorate and when I was going to do it…” She paused and took another bite of her dinner. “Then I got home and realized I had to get it from the car and into my apartment by myself!”
Carter could only imagine how she must have freaked out when the realization hit her at the time. “So what did you do?”
“At first I figured I could handle it. After all, how heavy could a tree be, right?”
It felt safer not to answer that question.
“I got it down off the car and made it all of five feet before I tripped and fell on top of it.” She laughed and it made him relax. “So there I was, sprawled out in the middle of my complex’s parking lot and wondering what in the world I was going to do. Fortunately, there were a couple of teenagers who lived in the building walking by and they offered to help me.” She grinned at him. “I was so relieved that I tipped them a ridiculous amount of money.”
“How much?” he asked with amusement.
“Let’s just say it was enough that they asked me every day for about six months if I needed help carrying anything.” She rolled her eyes. “Still, it was worth it. That tree was spectacular by the time I had it set up and decorated.”
He didn’t doubt it for a minute.
“What about you?” she asked. “How do you normally decorate for Christmas?”
Taking a bite of his omelet, he shrugged. “I don’t do a whole lot. I have a team that takes care of the trees and decorations at the restaurants, and because I’m usually traveling, I don’t put one up at home.”
She studied him for a moment. “And where is home for you?”
Another shrug. “I have a couple of places—all close to my restaurants—but the one in New Orleans is probably the one I’d call my home base.”
“Wow.” It sounded more like disappointment being than impressed.
For some reason, he felt the need to explain himself. “At some point I’ll cut back on the traveling and settle into one place, but with the business still growing, this is the way it has to be.”
“How much more are you looking to build? This restaurant you’re building here in Montauk is going to be your fourth, right?”
He nodded.
“So what’s the end goal, here? How many places do you need to open?”
For some reason, her question struck him as odd. Most people asked how many places he wanted to open, not needed to. He wondered if she meant to ask him that.
“I’d like to have six,” he replied casually, waiting to see how she’d respond.
“And that will satisfy you?”
Yeah, she’d meant it.
But he didn’t want to examine it, because the implication was that he was doing this—creating his restaurant empire, such as it was—out of ego.
If this conversation had come up before they’d crossed the line into his bedroom, he’d be ready to kick up one h
ell of a debate with her, but right now he didn’t want to ruin the moment.
“Sure,” he said with a smile, reaching for his glass of wine. Not the best combination to go with eggs for dinner, but it was what they’d opted for.
Emery’s plate clanking on the floor snapped his attention to her. The look of annoyance on her face confused him. “You okay?”
“No, I’m not okay, Carter,” she snapped.
Carefully, he put his plate on the floor and turned to her. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re acting weird!”
His eyes went wide, but before he could comment, she was speaking again.
“For twenty years we’ve had conversations where we banter back and forth. Sometimes it gets heated, but neither one of us ever backs down the way you just did!”
“How did I…?”
“‘Sure’,” she mocked, imitating his voice. “I mean, what the hell was that?”
He was too relaxed to take the bait, so he shifted until his back was against the sofa. “It was an answer to your question.”
“It was bullshit,” she countered. “You want to know what I think?”
“I’m sure I already have a good idea,” he murmured, reaching for his wine again.
“I think you’re sitting here trying to change the dynamics of who we are and it’s insulting. A few days ago—hell, a few hours ago—you would have gone into a lengthy discussion about why you need to open more restaurants and then bragged about how you were going to do it. Instead, you gave me a meek little ‘sure’ and dropped the subject!”
“There really wasn’t that much to it. You asked how many I planned on, and I answered. I’m feeling good, I’m relaxed, and I’m enjoying our dinner. It didn’t seem like a big deal.”
Clearly, that wasn’t quite what she wanted to hear because he could practically feel the tension rolling off of her. But rather than come back at him, she picked up her plate, stood, and walked to the kitchen.
He figured they were done—or at least this part of the conversation was done—but when he heard her put her plate in the sink and she didn’t come back, he got suspicious. Sure enough, when he turned he saw her coming out of his bedroom with the rest of her clothes, going up the stairs.
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