On the Rocks (A Turtle Island Novel) (22 page)

“Open the door,” he said the second the undergarment hit the floor.

She didn’t delay. Both doors opened wide, and wind slipped into the room. She faced him then, her back to the middle support beam, her hands behind her, and her breasts heavy under the filmy top. She gave him a serious “come hither” look, and he rose and went to her.

His hands started at her thighs, his eyes locked on his movements. “You are seriously gorgeous.”

Her returning comment was nothing more than a purr, so he explored the lace. With his fingers poised on the outsides of her thighs, his thumbs traced over the leg lines, taking in the soft texture of the material against the even softer touch of her skin. She was a tactile learner’s dream. He slid the pad of his thumbs up, their rougher texture outlining the high cut of the panties before dipping down and meeting at the juncture of her legs.

Her chest thrust forward when he pressed against her, and he groaned at the wetness that met him. He wanted to taste her.

“Take them off,” he commanded.

He could do it himself, but he wanted to see her own hands exposing herself to him.

They’d been too fast last night. Both taking and giving as if dying of thirst after a months-long sojourn into the desert, but he intended to make up for it this evening. He wanted to touch and taste and explore every last inch of her. And then he wanted to do it again.

Her thumbs slipped inside the front band of the panties, and her eyes hooded above him. She was as turned on as he.

“Push them down,” he begged. He ached to see more.

Inch by tiny inch, the lace slid over her hips. And then she was there. He’d dropped to his knees at some point, and the most protected part of her was now within inches of his face. He breathed her in. And this time he said a silent
thank-you
to his ex. This was way better than the life he’d tried to have with her.

His hands once again touched Ginger, his palms sliding from calves to thighs and back again. When he reached her ankles, he helped her to step out of the underwear. And then he simply looked up at her. Her nipples were hard. There was no hiding them without a bra. And her breaths came as short and fast as his.

Then he finally closed the distance and put his lips to her.

She sucked in a breath, and her hands landed in his hair.

“Spread your legs for me.”

Her legs edged apart, and he was in heaven. He slipped a finger between her thighs and touched her, drawing the tip along her seam. She was so wet. And so silky. And then he touched her with his mouth. She bucked slightly, and her fingers gripped his hair. But she stayed silent.

He took the silence as a personal challenge—she certainly hadn’t been silent the night before—and he resolved to make her scream.

He brought his thumbs back to her, and this time he parted her. She was shadowed with the moon behind her, but not so much that he couldn’t take her in. He licked her once more. Then pulled on her lightly with his lips.

She bucked again, and this time a tiny moan squeezed from her throat. So he licked some more. She tasted like heaven.

Her legs parted wider, or maybe he’d done that himself, as he continued to lap at her with his tongue. He used fingers, thumbs, tongue, and teeth. And he didn’t let go until he was certain she knew who she belonged to tonight.

At the last second, as she writhed in his hands, he heard a small whisper of “Carter” before her body bowed tight. Her hands clasped the post above her, and a guttural scream started.

It felt as if her orgasm lasted for a full minute as she shook in his hands and pulsed against his mouth. And then her entire body sagged. The breath left her body, and he smiled smugly against her.

He kissed her thighs before rising to his feet.

“I’m wasted.” Her head dropped to the door frame behind her, and her arms hung at her sides. “You’ve ruined me.”

“No, baby. I’ve just gotten you started.”

He scooped her up and turned. Then stopped.

They both burst out laughing at the size of the mattress. It was so full, and so rounded on top, that he wouldn’t have been surprised to see it explode at that very second. So he yanked the cord from the wall with his toes, grabbed a condom, and went to find a bathroom that had a countertop.

Once he had her lowered before him, he sheathed himself and slid inside her.

They groaned at the same time.

It was too good. He gripped the sides of her hips and pulled back slightly, then slid in deeper. She made a whimpering sound. He liked hearing her. “Pull your shirt off for me.”

Immediately, she stripped her shirt over her head. She was beautiful.

There was no light on in the room, but there was plenty of moonlight coming in through the connected bedroom window. He watched her breasts as he continued to pump in and out of her. The way they jiggled was an exquisite kind of torture, but finally he’d had enough. He leaned in on a thrust, and captured a nipple with his lips.

“I’ve wanted to do this all day long,” he murmured around her flesh. He flicked his tongue over her.

“Do what? Suck on my nipple or—” She drew in a sharp breath as he nipped down on her, and she planted her hands on the countertop behind her. Her breasts lifted higher, reaching for him. So he released one hand from a hip to bring her untouched breast to his mouth.

She was all he could have imagined. And more.

And he wanted to do this until he died.

“You don’t even have your clothes off,” she whimpered.

She put her hands on him, flitting them around as if not sure where to touch, what article of clothing to attempt to remove first. His jeans were open and shoved down just far enough, but that was all.

“I feel like I should be doing something for you, too,” she panted.

He captured her hands and held her wrists at the base of her spine. “You are doing something for me.” He kissed her hard. “You’re being my fantasy.”

And then he could hold back no longer. He yanked her hips closer, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. Then he pounded inside her so hard that he feared he might hurt her. Or himself.

“You okay?” he gritted out. But he didn’t stop.

She nodded. The move was jerky, and her eyes were glazed.

Seeing her arousal matching his, he brought one hand between them and touched her core. Her moan said that was what she needed, so he leaned in, his body cresting, readying for his own orgasm, and he made sure she took the ride with him.

He didn’t slow until they were both drained. What seemed like minutes later, he had enough breath to finally move again, so he eased himself off her and peered down at the wildness of her hair. The fully satisfied glaze on her face. He’d done that for her, and that made him happy.

“You good?” He spoke softly.

She nodded, the move as quiet as his words. “Two times. Thank you.”

“Uh-uh,” he reminded her. He kissed her fingertips. “We don’t thank. And anyway, I didn’t do that for you.” He pressed a lingering kiss to her lips; she still tasted like chocolate. “I did it for me. I needed you badly. And baby, I’m gonna need more.”

Her relaxed chuckle made him smile.

“And anyway, it can be your turn next time.” He winked at her.

“My turn?” She eyed him carefully. “To do all the work?” She began to nod slowly. “Okay. But only if I get to give commands like you did to me.”

He scooped her up. “Once we figure out that bed . . . baby, you can command me to do whatever you want.” He kissed her again. For a very long time. And he prayed for the next few days to go by slowly.

C
HAPTER
E
IGHTEEN

G
inger stood at the open French doors, peering out on to the office deck, aware that Carter had no idea she was there. He’d gotten up two hours earlier and pulled on his jeans, and she’d heard him go out the front door. She’d had a brief moment of worry—Was he leaving in the middle of the night? Had she been the only one to seriously enjoy every last thing they’d done last night?—but then she’d decided that if that were the case, it was too bad for him. She’d had one heck of a good time, and she wouldn’t regret it for a second.

But then the outer door had reopened, and as he’d come up the stairs, she’d listened to him bypass her bedroom for the third floor. He’d been up here ever since, and she could only assume he’d been doing exactly what he was now. Writing.

“I brought you a drink,” she said, almost regretting interrupting him. She could only imagine what gripping new story he’d dreamed up.

He looked up from his keyboard, his eyes unfocused.

She smiled and held up the selection of water, Diet Coke, and beer, and he finally seemed to see her. His returning grin brought to life the flutter that she attributed only to him.

“Good morning,” he murmured. He took the water, and wrapped a hand around her neck. He pulled her down for a quick kiss. Then returned to typing.

She let out a happy sigh. The man was writing again.

With his keystrokes as background noise, she crossed to the other side of the doors and settled on the ground. She popped open the soft drink, leaned her head against the wall, and let the early morning dampness kiss her face. This was
the
best way to start a day.

Closing her eyes, she took in the morning. It wasn’t high tide, but the waves were rolling in. She enjoyed the sound of their power as Carter continued to type from the fold-out chair she hadn’t even known was at the house. His laptop sat on an old TV tray in front of him. This was what she’d envisioned when she’d built the house. Not Carter, or anyone writing a book in the dark of predawn, per se. But sitting here with someone. Enjoying life together.

“When are your friends getting in?”

She glanced over as Carter took a drink of his water. “Andie will be in before lunch, but she’s got a meeting to go over some things about Seaglass,” she told him. “Her mother and Kayla run it, and Ginny owns the bed-and-breakfast where they house the majority of their guests. So whenever Andie comes to town, the four of them get business out of the way first.”

He took another drink, and Ginger eyed the curve of his neck as his head tilted farther back. The sight reminded her of the way he arched at the peak of passion. She’d licked that neck last night.

Multiple times.

“And Roni?” he asked.

She swallowed her lust. She had a bad case for him.

“Her flight doesn’t land until later. I won’t see her until the concert, but the three of us are coming over here afterward. Girls’ night.” She wiggled her brows as if she and her friends intended to have a wild evening. The better guess would be lots of laughter, and in bed early.

She enjoyed the regret in Carter’s eyes when he said, “Guess I’m on my own tonight.”

“You think you can manage?” The better question was, could she?

“I don’t know.” He set his water on the ground, and curled a finger toward her. “You’re too far away, Red. Come over here to me.”

“You were busy.” She rose, glancing at the sky as she did. The sun was close.

“Sorry. I woke up with a scene in my head.”

“Don’t apologize. Just write.”

He chuckled, and when she reached his grasp, he snagged her and tumbled her into his lap. And then he gave her a proper good-morning kiss. He tasted of toothpaste. She’d seen a toothbrush beside hers when she’d used the guest bath earlier.

“Good morning.” He nuzzled her ear after finally freeing her lips. “I missed you.”

She smiled and cuddled in close. “Did the scene come out well?”

“Good enough. I’ll fix it later.”

His arms went around her, and they both grew quiet as, together, they watched the sun show itself. There was water for miles in every direction, a bright greeting to the day, and she was curled in a warm lap with strong hands at her back. This was a memory she would hold dear.

When she could see blue between the sun and the ocean, she peeked up at Carter. “Will you come to the concert tonight? Not like a date, but as a friend. Julie, too. I’d love for you to see Roni play. She’ll blow your mind.”

“I’ve actually seen her before.”

She pushed up off his chest. “You’ve seen Roni in concert?”

His smile was part little boy, part guilt. And totally adorable. “I had a little crush myself.”

“You had a crush on my friend . . . while I had a crush on you?”

He grimaced. “Life is funny like that.”

“She’s married now.” She eyed him, pretending suspicion. “And pregnant.”

“I didn’t say I still had a crush!”

Ginger didn’t admit that she was a tiny bit jealous, and Carter tugged her back down for another kiss. He nipped and played, taking his time, and eventually sucking her bottom lip between his. The move reached well beyond her mouth, though, as her breasts ached, once again, for his touch.

She forgot her jealousy and simply enjoyed what he did to her. The man was an excellent kisser.

“I remembered her from her summers here,” he told her after depleting all oxygen from her lungs. “And I knew she was a professional pianist, even then. She traveled with her father as a child, right?”

Ginger nodded.

“I eventually bought one of her CDs. I saw her play in New York years ago. She’s good.”

“Then you’ll come?”

“I’m way ahead of you.” His hand slid from her back to her rear, tracing its shape with his fingers. “I already have tickets for both me and Julie. You could hook us up, though. Bring us backstage?”

If he would keep touching her, she’d do anything he asked. “It’s a deal,” she breathed.

His lips sought out the favored spot on her neck, and she considered stripping off her shirt and straddling him right there on the deck. She wondered if the chair would hold if she did.

But then she saw his eyes drift to the laptop. He kept kissing her—slower—but she could see that the story was pulling at his attention.

She should leave him, she knew. Let him write the next bestseller. But the morning was ideal, and she selfishly didn’t want to give it up. Workers would be there within the hour, so time was limited. And she wanted to spend that time with Carter. He was so different from a couple of weeks ago.

Carter reached toward the laptop, and with one hand he pecked out a few words.

When he paused, she said, “Could I read it?”

Horror-filled eyes shot back to hers. “Read my book? While I’m still writing it?”

She grimaced. “Is that against the rules?”

“It’s against
my
rules. No one reads the book until I’m finished with it.”

“Oh.” She glanced at the laptop, feeling deflated, and chuckled when he shut the cover to keep her from seeing the screen. “I didn’t realize writers could be so particular.”

“Definitely particular.” He closed his arms around her again, pulling her attention back to him, but this time he turned a contemplative look her way instead of a heated one. Except . . . she also detected a hint of heat beneath the surface, as well. She had no idea what he was thinking.

“What?” she asked.

His eyes flicked toward the computer briefly. This time when he looked at her, the underlying heat was more obvious. “I do have one thing you could read.”

“Oh, yeah?”

The fingers at her back slipped under the cotton of the shirt she wore. She’d come out in only the button-down that she’d taken off
him
the night before. “It has nothing to do with the book I’m writing,” he warned.

She frowned. “Then what is it?”

“A sex scene.”

Golden-green eyes with little sunbursts spreading from the pupils drank her in, and she caught her lip between her teeth. She peeked at the laptop. “And you’d let me read it?”

His hand flattened on her back, marking her skin with a broad patch of heat. He nodded.

“Show it to me,” she whispered.

The idea of reading a sex scene Carter had written—while sitting in his lap nearly naked—turned her on. He nodded once again, seeming unable to form words, and quickly tapped out a few keystrokes. Then he turned her so she sat facing the laptop, and clicked one more key.

The screen filled with words.

She wore rubber boots and shorts that barely covered her ass.

Ginger gasped. She looked over her shoulder. “Is this about me?” Her heart beat wildly.

“You leave a lasting impact in those boots, babe.”

She gulped and turned back. As she went back to reading, his hands boldly parted her thighs. Her back arched, and her pelvic muscles clenched as if he’d pushed himself inside her. His fingers lazily began to stroke between her legs while her eyes rushed over the words.

She was on top of him, riding him, her breasts bouncing and his mouth seeking. He ripped her shirt from her body, and then she was being slammed into the wall, calling his name.

Her body reacted to the scene, and Carter slipped a finger inside her. She moaned and squirmed against him. He had her drenching wet, and she could feel the hard ridge of him beneath her. She wanted him naked. She wanted him
in
her.

“Keep reading,” he urged when her head dropped to his shoulder. He lifted her head so she was once again looking at the screen. “Out loud.”

Then he opened the top button of the shirt she wore, and slid his hand inside. He palmed her breast. A second finger slipped inside her down below.

She moaned again.

“Read,” he demanded.

“
‘Her legs clamped tight around his body,
’
”—her voice shook as she read his words aloud—
“
‘feeling him pulse deep inside her. Her heels dug hard into his ass. The pressure energized him, making it hard to retain control, and his name was wrenched from her throat as he thrust deep once again. The next sound he heard was a whimper.
’
”

“Carter,” she begged. She also whimpered.

He pushed the hard steel of his dick against her bare butt, and she grabbed at his jeans. She wanted to feel him bare against her.

“No,” he growled out. His fingers worked faster inside her, and his thumb found her clit.

“Please,” she begged again. “I need . . .”

“Keep reading.” His other hand squeezed at her breast, alternately pulling on her nipple.

She licked her lips, trying to find the moisture to continue, and couldn’t stop the grinding motion of her hips. She needed to come soon. He pumped beneath her once again, and her eyes crossed. But then she forced herself to focus on his words.

“
‘Sweat slicked their bodies together as he continued, not giving her a second to breathe, and not taking one for himself. He pushed her harder, insisting she join him before he exploded inside her like the animal that he was. And that would be soon. He bit down on her shoulder, and he felt her body begin to soar. He savored her screams when she came, thrilled at the feel of her nails slicing open his skin.
’
”

“Oh, God, Carter,” she whispered.

“
‘You’re mine.
’
”
He ground out the next words on the screen, his breath drifting across her ear. He kissed the side of her neck then, sucking her skin between his lips and teeth, and that small action was the thing that finished her off.

She came apart on his lap, her orgasm stronger than any she could remember. He didn’t give her time to finish before he stood, her still shaking in his arms, and carried her inside the house. Within seconds he had them back in her bedroom, his pants removed, and a condom in place.

And then he was in her.

He ripped the remainder of her shirt open as he had in the story, parting the material to expose her body to his gaze, and he plunged himself deep. There was nothing gentle about his moves, but she didn’t want gentle. Not right now. She wanted to be fucked.

Barely a moment later, her orgasm started again, and she squeezed her eyes tight as he joined her. The sounds coming from him didn’t sound human, and that only added to the moment.

She wrapped both arms around his shoulders as he shook against her and held on. And when he was done, a hot breath panted across her cheek, and he touched a soft kiss to her temple.

It was a simple gesture. And it affected her as profoundly as their lovemaking.

It was another one of those moments that would be hard to forget.