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Authors: Bec Linder
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was open slightly, just a crack. I peeked inside.
Carter was sitting on the sofa, bent over his phone. I recognized him just from the back of his head and his jacket. I thought I would know him even in the dark, even if I forgot how to see.
It had been less than twenty-four hours since the last time I saw him, but I still felt my pulse quicken in the hollow of my throat. I wanted to go to him and press my face against his neck, right where he splashed his cologne.
I opened the door further and stepped into the room. When I shut the door behind me, Carter turned at the soft sound. His hair was falling across his face, and he looked tired. His shirt was rumpled and rolled up at the sleeves.
“Regan. You found me.”
“You weren’t hard to find,” I said. I crossed the room and stood in front of him, burying my hands in his messy hair. “Long day?”
“The longest,” he said. He leaned forward and rested his forehead against my abdomen. “I wanted to see you. Selfishly. I won’t keep you long. The others will be arriving shortly.”
“You’re having a party tonight?” I asked.
He made a noise of agreement. “Hackett’s coming. I’m supposed to ask him some leading questions. It’s difficult when he spends the entire time with a dancer wiggling around in his lap.”
Having seen it myself, I knew exactly what he meant. Carter was helping to build a case against Richard Hackett for securities fraud, but it had been months, and Hackett was too interested in the dancers to say anything incriminating. I knew that it was stressing Carter out, but I couldn’t be too sorry. Hackett was the whole reason Carter came to the club, and if it weren’t for him, we never would have met.
I drew my hands through Carter’s hair, running my fingers across his scalp. “Why don’t you ask me to serve for you anymore?”
“Because I don’t want to share you,” he said.
Oh. That sent a shiver down my spine. I liked it when he was possessive.
“Sit down,” he said. “Talk to me. I spent all day having people yell at me about operating costs. Tell me what you did this morning.”
I sat beside him on the couch, smoothing my skirt over my thighs. “Well, I woke up,” I said.
He grinned at me, his tired eyes lighting up. “And then what? You rolled around in bed for a while in your silk nightie?”
I mostly slept in oversized T-shirts. “Yes,” I said.
“That’s a pleasant mental image,” he said, and then he sobered, and looked at me with a serious expression on his face. “I enjoyed meeting your friends last night. Please tell Sadie I’m grateful to her for inviting me.”
“They liked you,” I said, and I thought it was true. I hadn’t done a full postmortem with Sadie yet, but she had texted me after Carter dropped me off at home: nice catch
“I’m glad,” he said. “So tell me more about this silk nightie.”
I blushed. Did he really want to spend time discussing my nonexistent lingerie? “Well, it’s silk,” I said.
“Yes, we’ve established that. What else?” He leaned toward me and put one hand on my knee. The weight of it, the warmth, reminded me that it had been more than a week since we’d done anything but trade a few kisses. My libido sat up and took notice. Carter was touching me, and my body wanted more of it, and right away, and damn the torpedoes.
“It’s red,” I said. Red was a sexy color, right? “And it has—lace along the neckline.”
“Good,” he said. He kissed my neck, right behind my ear. I shivered. “Tell me more.”
“I, um.” I racked my brain for something else to say. “The fabric—feels nice against my skin.” This was embarrassing. I sounded like bad soft-core porn.
But Carter was enjoying it. He slid his his hand up my leg to settle in the crease of my hip, and moved his mouth down my neck, sucking soft kisses against my skin. I tilted my head to one side to give him better access, and he took full advantage, pulling me close against him
Carter was sitting on the sofa, bent over his phone. I recognized him just from the back of his head and his jacket. I thought I would know him even in the dark, even if I forgot how to see.
It had been less than twenty-four hours since the last time I saw him, but I still felt my pulse quicken in the hollow of my throat. I wanted to go to him and press my face against his neck, right where he splashed his cologne.
I opened the door further and stepped into the room. When I shut the door behind me, Carter turned at the soft sound. His hair was falling across his face, and he looked tired. His shirt was rumpled and rolled up at the sleeves.
“Regan. You found me.”
“You weren’t hard to find,” I said. I crossed the room and stood in front of him, burying my hands in his messy hair. “Long day?”
“The longest,” he said. He leaned forward and rested his forehead against my abdomen. “I wanted to see you. Selfishly. I won’t keep you long. The others will be arriving shortly.”
“You’re having a party tonight?” I asked.
He made a noise of agreement. “Hackett’s coming. I’m supposed to ask him some leading questions. It’s difficult when he spends the entire time with a dancer wiggling around in his lap.”
Having seen it myself, I knew exactly what he meant. Carter was helping to build a case against Richard Hackett for securities fraud, but it had been months, and Hackett was too interested in the dancers to say anything incriminating. I knew that it was stressing Carter out, but I couldn’t be too sorry. Hackett was the whole reason Carter came to the club, and if it weren’t for him, we never would have met.
I drew my hands through Carter’s hair, running my fingers across his scalp. “Why don’t you ask me to serve for you anymore?”
“Because I don’t want to share you,” he said.
Oh. That sent a shiver down my spine. I liked it when he was possessive.
“Sit down,” he said. “Talk to me. I spent all day having people yell at me about operating costs. Tell me what you did this morning.”
I sat beside him on the couch, smoothing my skirt over my thighs. “Well, I woke up,” I said.
He grinned at me, his tired eyes lighting up. “And then what? You rolled around in bed for a while in your silk nightie?”
I mostly slept in oversized T-shirts. “Yes,” I said.
“That’s a pleasant mental image,” he said, and then he sobered, and looked at me with a serious expression on his face. “I enjoyed meeting your friends last night. Please tell Sadie I’m grateful to her for inviting me.”
“They liked you,” I said, and I thought it was true. I hadn’t done a full postmortem with Sadie yet, but she had texted me after Carter dropped me off at home: nice catch
“I’m glad,” he said. “So tell me more about this silk nightie.”
I blushed. Did he really want to spend time discussing my nonexistent lingerie? “Well, it’s silk,” I said.
“Yes, we’ve established that. What else?” He leaned toward me and put one hand on my knee. The weight of it, the warmth, reminded me that it had been more than a week since we’d done anything but trade a few kisses. My libido sat up and took notice. Carter was touching me, and my body wanted more of it, and right away, and damn the torpedoes.
“It’s red,” I said. Red was a sexy color, right? “And it has—lace along the neckline.”
“Good,” he said. He kissed my neck, right behind my ear. I shivered. “Tell me more.”
“I, um.” I racked my brain for something else to say. “The fabric—feels nice against my skin.” This was embarrassing. I sounded like bad soft-core porn.
But Carter was enjoying it. He slid his his hand up my leg to settle in the crease of my hip, and moved his mouth down my neck, sucking soft kisses against my skin. I tilted my head to one side to give him better access, and he took full advantage, pulling me close against him
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