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‘Tonight.’ He levered up and away from her.
She sat up—unconsciously keeping a short distance between them. ‘Tonight?’
He grinned at her obvious disappointment. ‘No condoms in here.’
Oh. She hadn’t thought of that. Thank goodness he had.
‘Won’t you let me help you out now?’ She longed to feel him shaking in her arms. She could stroke him to glory in seconds.
‘Will you let me do the same for you?’
She blinked rapidly and ducked his fixed gaze.
‘Tonight,’ he reiterated, amusement warming his authoritative tone.
She nodded. ‘Just a little fun.’
‘Can you handle that?’ All hint of humour had gone.
Hopefully. If she could stay on top. She looked back into his eyes and waved her independence flag. ‘Sure. Can you?’
CHAPTER SEVEN (#ulink_0762f32e-291c-5c87-b7dc-c8c3e4d7fae6)
TWENTY minutes later they heard the door lock click. They hid in the dark corner for another moment and dashed when the coast was clear.
‘Get changed quickly,’ he whispered.
Giggling in the women’s, Penny tossed her skirt and top on straight over her togs, scooped up her bag and was out again in less than a minute. Carter was standing in the little foyer, his shirt water-stained and creased, his jaw dark with stubble. He looked sexier and more dangerous than ever.
He held out his hand. ‘Let me take your bag.’
Penny walked quickly. ‘I’ve got it.’
Already people were arriving to use the gym and swim facility and she wanted to get out of there before anyone saw the state she was in.
‘No, let me take it,’ he insisted, blocking her path.
She frowned but he came even closer, speaking through gritted teeth.
‘Look, if you want everyone to see the size of my hard-on, sure, you take it. Otherwise let me just hold it while we get out of here, okay?’
Penny’s jaw dropped.
He put a finger under her chin and nudged it closed again. ‘Don’t act the innocent. You know exactly what you can do to me. Just like I know what I can do to you.’ His gaze imprisoned hers and pierced deep. ‘If you’ll let me.’
Penny felt as if an adrenalin injection had just been stabbed straight into her heart. The feeling flickered along her veins, molten gold—sweeter than honey yet tart at the same time. Tantalising.
He smiled.
Excitement rippled low in her belly, blocking everything—nerves, memories, fears. All were swallowed in the rising heat. She shook her head but smiled back. Him wanting her felt good. He grabbed her hand and stormed them up the stairs and through Reception.
‘Hell, you’re not here already, Penny?’ Bleary-eyed, Jed looked up from behind his desk.
She shook her head. ‘You never saw me.’
‘You and I are having a little chat later.’ Carter scowled at Jed and held the door for Penny.
He flagged two taxis.
‘We can’t share?’ she asked.
‘We get in one of those together now and you know we wouldn’t come back. I’ve got work I have to do.’
Eleven hours later, resentment-filled, she figured he’d done a lot of work. By the time she’d got home, showered, changed and returned to the office, he was already back there and concentrating. He hadn’t moved from his chair for hours. She knew because she’d gone into his office a few times—delivering more of the massive numbers of faxes and courier parcels, more wretched files—and he’d ignored her. Hadn’t even looked up, lost in a world of figures and transactions and tiny details.
And she hadn’t been able to concentrate on a thing—all jumpy and excited and impatient. Until the tiredness from the little amount of sleep had eaten her nerves and now she was grumpy and ready to stomp home alone because he hadn’t even said hello to her all day.
Worst of all, it was only just five o’clock. Theoretically she had another couple of hours to put in first. She glared at her computer screen and banged the buttons on the keyboard.
‘So.’ He suddenly leant across her desk. ‘Your place or mine?’
‘So smooth, Carter.’ She stabbed through another couple of keystrokes.
‘Just answer,’ he said roughly, putting his hand over hers. ‘I’m barely able to pull together two syllables I’m that strung out.’
She looked at his face and was grateful she was sitting down. No muscles could stay firm against the heat in his eyes. And the grip he had on her now was thrillingly tight. It made her feel a lot better about his distance all day and she dropped any idea of holding out for some grovelling.
‘Yours.’ She was glad he’d asked. If she went to his it meant she could leave when she needed to, not have to wait for him to decide to go from hers.
‘Then let’s go.’
‘Now?’
The taxi was already waiting and, even better, the trip was short. Her heart drummed faster than a dance-floor anthem and she concentrated on keeping her breathing quiet and even. He still had hold of her hand and as they rode the elevator up to his short-let serviced apartment he finally broke the silence.
‘You’re tired?’
Actually she was plotting how to handle him. She needed to take charge from the get-go—set the pattern for the evening—and she wanted him on fire as fast as possible.
He must have read her mind because he turned to her the moment he’d closed the door behind them. She melted against him and offered it all, pleased he was so hungry. She wanted him to be uncontrolled, to be in thrall. Passion was powerful and she wanted to succeed in hitting his pleasure high. She moved against him, dancing the way she knew best, her mouth open to his, her fingers working on his buttons—wanting him raw and hot.
But he laughed, low and pure. ‘Why are you in such a hurry?’
Because that way she could control it. She shrugged her shoulders and simply smiled, pressing close again.
But he, damn him, suddenly slowed right down. He swept his lips gently across her skin as his fingers so carefully freed buttons. Why was he taking so long to undress her? Hell, they didn’t even need to get undressed, he could just push her skirt up and pull her panties to the side—she was ready for him, she would ride hard for him—she badly wanted to feel him come.
Instead his hands drifted south and so did his mouth, gently caressing the skin he’d exposed. Until he was on his knees before her and sliding down the zip of her skirt. She twisted, her discomfort suddenly building, wanting to bring him back up, wanting her hands to be the ones taking the lead. But then his fingers slid higher and she flinched, the pleasure so sharp it was too much, and she couldn’t let the sudden rushing feeling swamp her.
Carter had gone completely still. Then he leaned back and looked up so he could see her face clearly as his hand gently brushed down the front of her thigh. ‘I want you to enjoy it.’
‘I will enjoy it,’ she answered softly. But she knew what he meant. He wanted to hear her scream his name.
He stood, his keen eyes catching the way she wriggled back the tiniest bit from him. He swallowed. ‘You don’t want me to go down on you?’
She nodded, glad she didn’t have to spell it out herself. ‘I don’t really like that … I … don’t feel comfortable.’
He looked thoughtful. ‘But you’ll go down on me?’
‘Oh, yeah, I like that.’
‘Well, that’s nice.’ His devil grin flickered. ‘But what turns you on most, Penny?’ He watched her steadily.
The heat intensified in her cheeks and she tried to shrug his question off. ‘Lots of things …’ she mumbled. ‘I like … lots of things …’
His head tilted a fraction to the left as he studied her. ‘Oh, my …’ His arms tightened, his body tensing too as he lanced right through her defences. ‘You fake it.’
Her mouth opened in horror but the gasp never eventuated. Instead the blush burned all the way down to her toes. She blinked rapidly but she couldn’t break away from his all-seeing stare. ‘I do enjoy sex,’ she said when she got her voice back. ‘I like it a lot. It feels good. But … it’s … it’s just the way I am.’
‘You always fake it?’ His eyes widened.
‘Sometimes it’s easier that way.’ She licked her lips—not as invitation, but because her mouth had gone Death Valley dry. ‘Guys like to feel like they’re …’
Carter rubbed his fingers across his forehead.
‘It’s not going to damage your ego or anything, is it?’ she asked, cringing at his obvious surprise. ‘You’d rather I faked it?’
Blunt as she’d been with him before, this was his kind of sledgehammer stuff and she was shaking inside. She was never this honest. But then no one else had ever called her on it either and she was shocked he’d twigged at all, let alone so quickly. The fact was, she did fake it. She had an amazing array of squeals to let the guy think she was there. The Sally chick who met Harry in that movie had nothing on her.
But that didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy it. She did. She wanted it and she wanted Carter. The closeness was enough for her, feeling desired and making someone happy even for a few moments made her feel good too.
His gaze hadn’t left hers and surprisingly his smile had gone less devilish, more sweet. ‘My ego can handle you,’ he said. ‘So no faking. Total honesty. Deal?’
‘I want to be with you,’ she couldn’t help reassuring. ‘You turn me on, you know you do. But I just don’t …’
‘Get across the finish line.’
‘But I still enjoy the race.’
He actually laughed. ‘Don’t feel any pressure to perform for me, darling.’ He rested his hands lightly on her shoulders. ‘We can enjoy each other in our own ways. Let’s just see what happens, okay?’
She released the breath that she’d been holding for ever. ‘You’re sure?’ Even for a guy as confident as him she was surprised at his easy understanding.
‘Yep.’ He nodded. ‘I’m sure.’
Carter was trying to stop his head spinning but every thought had just been blown from his brain cells. Wow. He just hadn’t seen that coming and honestly he’d just blurted the thought that had occurred so randomly.
For him enjoying sex was so inextricably linked with orgasm it was as if she were talking in a foreign language. He tried to figure it out—was she not physically capable of coming?
Actually he didn’t believe that. By the pool he’d felt her shaking in his arms, he’d felt the hunger in her mouth, felt the flood of desire between her legs when he’d touched her there. Physically she’d been all systems go.
But at that point she’d literally leapt out of his arms.
So it was her head that couldn’t let go.
Of course, she was a complete control freak. It made sense. That was her job all over—keeping everything in its place and perfect. But at the same time it didn’t make sense. The night he’d met her she’d appeared the absolute image of a hedonist. A beautiful young woman out for fun and frolics and seemingly assured of success should she want it. But it seemed she didn’t want it—at least not on a level that she couldn’t control. Did she pleasure her lovers rather than let them pleasure her? Because that wasn’t right. For him sex was all about mutual delight and exploration. Pleasure for both—give and take.
Women didn’t have total ownership rights on curiosity. Right now it was eating Carter alive. And so was the challenge. How could it not be a challenge? Because this woman could feel it. He could feel her—trembling, all hot and aching. He knew how much she wanted him. So how did he help her let go?
He swallowed again. Like anything it came down to the details. She was so sensitive and maybe it scared her. So he was going to have to take it easy.
She was watching him with a worried look. ‘I’ve probably put you off now.’
And the sweetheart looked as if she utterly regretted that.
He grinned. She didn’t need to worry—she would get every ounce of what he had to give. ‘Not at all.’ Oh, hell, no, now he was all the more desperate to strip her and, oh, so slowly warm her up.
But first what they both needed was a little more time. Just a very little. ‘You know we haven’t eaten,’ he said, tucking his shirt back in. ‘Come on, I’ll make something.’
She looked surprised.
‘You hadn’t missed dinner?’ Now he thought about it, he was starving.
She shook her head. ‘Haven’t had a chance to think about it.’
Carter smiled inside again. That was because she’d been thinking about him. The key was to get her to stop thinking.
He led the way to the kitchen. ‘You don’t mind a cold dinner?’
Penny was feeling so hot—from embarrassment—that cold sounded wonderful. In fact she’d dive deep into a pool right now if she could. By the time she’d straightened her clothes Carter was pouring the wine—crisp and cool enough to make condensation form on the glass.
He pointed to the stool on the far side of the bench. ‘Sit there and talk to me.’
About what? She’d so killed the moment and she was gutted because she did want to have him. Ugh. She should run away, go dancing and forget everything. ‘Are you making any progress with figuring out Mason’s problem?’
She was reduced to talking work.
All he did was shrug as he pulled a bowl from the fridge. An assortment of salad greens. He deftly sliced tomato, cucumber, feta and tossed the chunks in, adding a few olives from a tin after. Her mouth watered; she loved a summer salad.
He got a pack from the fridge and forked smoked salmon from it onto plates. Then he got a wooden board and from a brown paper bag slid a loaf of round, artisan bread. Her stomach actually rumbled as he sliced into the loaf. He sent her a wicked look.
‘Don’t tell me you baked the bread,’ she teased to cover it.
‘Italian bakery down the road.’ He winked. ‘Looks good, huh?’
It looked divine. In five minutes he’d fixed the most delicious dinner and she was seriously impressed. ‘You always eat this healthily?’
‘I work long hours, I’m responsible for a lot of people’s jobs. I need to keep fit so I can perform one hundred per cent.’
