Selling Grace: A Light Romance Novel (Art of Grace Book 1) (21 page)

"Is that where this is headed?" Carter winked at me, but he loosened his hands around me, and rose up beside me off of the bench. "We had better hurry up and go get the gelato before we get too indecent, then."

I glanced back at him, smiling, feeling much more free than I could remember feeling for months. "Actually, I was thinking that we'd skip the gelato altogether."

"Of course. Makes sense. Very fattening food." I almost laughed at how Carter seized my hand and set off towards where he'd parked his car, eager like a schoolboy.

"And we've already eaten so many calories already," I pointed out.

"Right. It's going to take a lot of work to burn those off."

"We'll need to come up with some sort of activity."

"Yes. Maybe together."

"In private," I added, just in case he had any ideas about trying to tug me into the backseat of his luxury car. In the privacy of my own head, I wasn't sure if I would have been able to resist, if he did make the attempt.

But Carter nodded and, giggling like schoolchildren skipping out on class, we headed back to his car. He drove, and this time, he didn't head back towards my apartment building.

Instead, he turned into a residential area, threading through the streets until he pulled into the driveway of a smaller, charming Victorian home which, even in the darkness, I could see was painted a soft robin's egg blue.

"Really?" I exclaimed, staring out the window at this house as he brought the car to a stop in the driveway.

"What?"

I shrugged. "I don't know - I guess I always imagined that you'd be in some super ultra-modern apartment building, maybe in the penthouse."

"Well, sorry to disappoint, but I decided early on that I'd rather have a lawn and a garage than live on top of some building." Carter walked me up a path to the front door, my shoes clicking on the ceramic walking stones set into the dirt of the path. He unlocked the door, flicked a light switch just inside, and then held the door open for me.

I stepped inside and looked around. "You definitely have hidden depths," I said softly, turning in a slow circle.

As I'd expect from a real estate agent, the inside of the house felt perfectly decorated, almost like entering a showroom - but little touches here and there convinced me that Carter actually spent time here, that he really lived in this charming little house. A magazine sat on the edge of a creamy yellow-white couch, a water glass rested on the glass-topped table (but with a coaster beneath it, of course!). The place felt so inviting and comfortable that a pang of envy lanced through my chest. This wonderful, warm house had so much more character and appeal than my little efficiency apartment.

"So, this is it," Carter said, closing the door behind him. "Living room's over there, kitchen is just through that big open archway. What do you think?"

I turned to him, and was surprised to see a little flicker of concern in the man's expression. He really did want to know what I thought, I realized, and my words would sink in, not just bounce off a confident exterior. I stepped forward, into his arms.

"It's wonderful," I said softly. "Want to show me the rest of it?"

His smile broadened, even as his lips brushed against mine. He then proceeded to do just that, walking me through the different rooms and pointing out little touches - many of which, it seemed, he'd added in himself! Carter, apparently, was good with his hands, not just selling spaces built by other people.

"And up here is the master bedroom," he concluded the tour, pushing open a door on the upper level of the house. I stepped inside, gazing down at an acre of bedspread, the room feeling light and open with white walls and a very light blue ceiling, putting me in mind of the morning sky.

With a grin, I flopped down on top of the bed, throwing my arms out wide. "Wow, it's so soft and comfortable!"

A moment later, he dropped down beside me, propping himself up on one strong, muscled arm as he smiled back. "Good for lots of physical activities to burn off all that pasta we just finished eating."

He drew me in towards him, and I didn't resist. We came together in the soft sheets, one of my legs sliding over Carter's hip. He drew me up on top of him, his hand sliding over my back to curl around my neck and draw me in. I pushed down against him, feeling both the resistance of his hard body and the yielding mattress beneath him, loving the little electric thrill that roared through me as my hips shifted back and forth across him.

"God, careful with that," he groaned, although one hand ducked down to give my ass a squeeze, pulling it back and forth over his crotch. "You're going to kill me if you're not careful!"

"I doubt you're going to have to hold out," I fired back, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. I bent forward to kiss him again, and he slid his hand up my back, pulling my shirt up ahead of it. His fingers rose up until they encountered the strap of my bra - but, with a single little flick, he kept on moving, and I felt the sudden loosening of pressure around my chest below my breasts.

"Smooth," I purred, and he grinned, looking more like a schoolboy than ever.

"I won't deny that I've had a bit of practice," he answered, as his hands eased my bra and shirt up further towards my armpits. "But it still makes me feel like a million bucks when I get it first try."

I wanted to make another crack about first timers, but Carter's fingers slid around to cradle my breasts, his thumbs sliding over my nipples as they instantly grew hard at his touch, and the words died in my mouth. Instead, mindless, wordless need came coursing through me, overrunning any last vestiges of logical thought.

I had to have him.

Chapter Twenty-Five

*

The next few minutes devolved into a blur of both of us tugging at each other's clothes, our fingers clumsy with desire and arousal. No more words, no more cute little flirty comments tossed back and forth - Carter and I were both gripped by the wave of our mutual desire, and we had no choice but to be swept along.

I pulled his shirt up out of his pants and tugged at the buttons. One of them popped off and went flying off into a far corner of his bedroom, but I couldn't even bring myself to feel bad about its loss. Instead, I ran my fingers over the ridges of his abdominal muscles, and felt a little pang of regret at my own lack of muscle definition.

Not that it seemed to bother Carter in the slightest. He ran his hands over my naked top half, kissed his way across me, and then drew me forward on top of him so that he could take one breast in his mouth. I gasped at the feeling of his warm, wet lips and agile tongue against me, my back arching so that my hips pressed down against the growing lump that I felt in his pants.

"Pants," he gasped out a minute later as he released me, and we both dove for each other's waists. I peeled his zipper down as he grabbed at my ass beneath my own slacks, squeezing it and drawing me down on top of him.

Another moment of fumbling, and the pants slid off. Again, I hesitated for a moment, feeling a little ashamed of my nakedness - and eating all that pasta right before bed certainly wasn't going to do me any favors, either! But Carter drew me in again, his hands tracing patterns across my bare skin, his lips following close behind, and I focused instead on the hardness of his body, how he clearly felt thrilled at seeing my bare and exposed curves.

I knew that he was full of desire for me, that he was probably on the edge of losing control, but he still took his time with me. He explored my curves with his hands and lips, feeling how I molded to him. I reached down for him, but he held my hand back, instead feeling my most intimate areas, tasting me, studying me like I was a final exam in college and he needed to memorize every single inch. By the time he finally moved up to rise on top of me, between my spread thighs, I felt soaked and almost delirious with need to feel him take me, to let him inside.

Finally, we came together, and I knew from the moment that our bodies joined that I wouldn't be falling asleep disappointed tonight. His hand traced a line down my breasts to settle just above where he entered me, his thumb moving softly back and forth to beat out a counterpoint to his thrusts, and I didn't even make it a minute.

"Oh my GOD!" I threw my head back against the soft sheets beneath me, crying out instinctively as I shattered. Warmth flooded me, a burning pleasure so intense that I drifted for a few seconds in sheer whiteness, unable to comprehend anything else in existence besides my own pleasure, my overwhelming tidal wave of ecstatic release. The wave built and grew, washing back and forth over me, until I was certain that I'd lose my mind, that this would shift into pain and sear me into insanity.

But finally, almost mercifully, it faded, and Carter's face came back into view. He smiled down at me, still moving in tempo with me, and I wrapped my legs around his hips to draw him in closer. I bit at his ear, needing to feel his closeness, wanting to give him the same amazement that he just poured into me.

Despite his earlier words about practically exploding at my touch, Carter displayed impressive stamina! By the time he finally collapsed down beside me, both of us panting and soaked with sweat on every inch of our exposed skin, I didn't think that I'd be able to walk again, not without aid.

"Oh my god," I repeated again, a phrase I'd put to good use over the last twenty minutes or so.

"Oh my god," Carter agreed with me, breathing deeply. I turned my head slightly to the side, watching as his muscled, broad chest rose and fell with those breaths. "Becca, you need to come with a warning label - may cause heart attacks in bed!"

I just grinned, panting as I hoped that, eventually, my breathing might return to a normal rate. Now, finally, I felt like I started to see what Portia was talking about when she'd insisted that I needed to get back in the saddle, so to speak.

"So, I did okay?" I asked.

Carter propped himself up on one elbow, looking at me in disbelief. "Did okay? Becca, did you not hear me practically scream at the end of that?" He flopped back, putting the back of his hand across his forehead as if swooning. "Woman, you practically killed me, and if you give me twenty minutes, I think I'm up for letting you make another attempt!"

I couldn't hold back a little giggle at that, sitting up. If I succeed, do I inherit the house?" I asked.

He started to reply, but in my sitting position, I caught a glimpse of the digital clock sitting on Carter's bedside table. The lateness of the hour caught me by surprise, and I felt my warm post-sex glow fade slightly.

"Oh man, it's already that late?" I exclaimed. "Hey, do you think that you could give me a ride home?"

Carter frowned. "You're not going to stay?"

The idea was extremely tempting, especially when I looked over at the man's body, still nude and on glorious display beside me. "I'm afraid that I have to get back," I said. "Salem's going to be worried about me." It was a lame excuse, but not untrue.

"Salem?"

"My cat," I clarified. "He's a total jerk, real taskmaster. He's probably going to be pestering me all night for daring to leave him alone and desert him."

"Well, I suppose that you can't let him sleep alone," Carter said, still not sounding fully convinced. He reached out and coiled his hands around my waist, starting there but immediately sliding fingers towards other, more sensitive locations. "I'm sure that I can convince you to forget all about that kitty, though."

I was certain that he could, but I shrugged his hands off, reaching over the edge of my bed for my hastily discarded clothes. "I know you can - but really, I do want to take this slow," I said, standing up so that I could pull my underwear and pants back on.

"Slow," he repeated, as I tried to stand up.

I nodded. "You know. Relatively." For a moment, my legs wobbled under me and threatened to deposit me unceremoniously back on the floor, but I managed to stay upright.

At first, Carter looked like he was considering trying to lure me back into bed again, but he finally sighed and stood up as well, reaching for where his pants ended up. I paused for a moment to watch him, mesmerized by the movements of his muscles beneath the surface of his skin, how his back rippled with his motions.

"Okay," he announced, pulling on a tee shirt from his dresser instead of trying to attach the button-up shirt, now missing at least a couple of its buttons thanks to my hasty removal approach. "Let's get you back home."

"And again, I'm really sorry," I repeated, as we headed back down through the cozy little house and back out to the car. "I'm sure that I seem like a bitch."

At the car, Carter paused and turned, reaching out and gently pulling my hips against his. "You don't seem like a bitch at all," he said softly, gazing into my eyes. "Look, I get it - you're finally starting to think about putting this divorce behind you, and it's a tough step. I'm willing to go along if you want to take things... slow."

I smiled back at him, fighting against the sudden mistiness that crept into my eyes. "Thanks. That really means a lot."

He leaned in and planted a soft, feather-light kiss on my forehead. "Just tell Barry, if this ever comes up, that I'm a million times better than him in bed," he said, releasing me.