Anne raises her glass of champagne, and we all follow suit. "To Bree and—oh, hell, to all of you. We've all been through a lot this year, and I couldn't be prouder of each of you."
* * *
"Well, goodnight, then," I say to Carter. He's standing at our kitchen sink, filling up a glass of water.
"Goodnight," he replies, then clears his throat.
"Sorry?"
"Hm?"
"Nothing. 'Night." I shut my bedroom door behind me. We've been playing this awkward dance for weeks now. When we first moved in together, he was in full-on protector mode. And I didn't mind – I was jumpy and nervous and needed him nearby. And then things began to settle down, and we became friends. Best friends, really. And then helping him with his business has been a whole additional layer. I'm worried that the romantic stuff has just gotten crowded out.
Or maybe he just doesn't see me like that anymore. Maybe he only thinks of me as a friend. I sigh, and pull my dress off. My fingers slide over the small, raised scar on my upper arm. It's funny how I could be so brave in one situation, when my life was in danger, but now I don't have the courage to even ask Carter if he's still interested in me. Bree has told me repeatedly that I'm being a chicken, but I think her vision might be clouded because she wants us to be together so much.
Not that I don't. Lately, it feels like my skin is on fire whenever I'm near him. I actually have to avoid the living room in the morning because he showers in the hall bathroom and if I see him in a towel one more time I'm going to explode. I didn't think his body could carry any more muscle, but it turns out he'd actually lost quite a bit while his leg was healing.
There's a knock on my bedroom door, and I quickly swing it open. Carter is standing in the doorway, his hand paused in front of him.
"What's up?" I ask.
"I just wanted to thank you again for all your...you do realize you're in your underwear, right?"
I flush. "Oh, shit. I was thinking about...something, and I took—" I stop as his hand moves forward and stops on my bare waist. I stare at him, but he's not looking at my face. His eyes are travelling all over my body in a way that makes me shiver. Suddenly, he jerks his arm back.
"I'm sorry. You had a traumatic experience, and I've been trying to give you space."
"Oh. Oh! So...you still want..."
"Do you?"
"Yes."
"Thank god," he says, and steps forward, wrapping his arms around me. I almost faint with pleasure as our bodies press against each other. Our mouths open and our tongues slide against each other. My fingers quickly find the bottom of his thin t-shirt and I step back for a moment to pull it up over his head. In a moment, his mouth is back on mine.
His hands reach behind my back and quickly unhook my bra. As he leans back and pulls it off my hands, he lets his fingers brush against them.
"You're shaking," he notes.
"I know," I say with a smile. I reach forward and grab his belt, swiftly unbuckling it. He reaches down and pushes his pants down himself, as I let my eyes travel over his muscular torso, his pecs popping out over his etched abdomen, and the trail of hair leading down from his belly button.
He steps forward and turns me around, pulling my hips back against his rock hard member. I grind my ass against him, and feel his hot breath on my neck. His rough palms reach across my breasts, and I arch my back as he twists my nipples in between his fingers. His left hand moves around my neck, guiding my face towards his, as his right hand moves southward, sliding slowly under my panties.
I pant as he playfully flicks his fingers across my bare skin, teasing me, and then cry out as he slides them over my clit. The pleasure is so immediate, it's been hiding under the surface for weeks, just waiting for his touch.
I can feel how wet I am as he slides one finger inside me, leaving his thumb to circle my aching nub. I reach my arms behind his neck and hold on as my knees buckle.
"Oh, god, Carter," I moan, as I feel an orgasm quickly building inside me.
"Fuck, I've wanted you so much," he groans, and my body unspools around his fingers as an orgasm rips through me. Its waves are still hitting me when he turns me back around and yanks down my panties.
I gasp as he pushes me back onto the bed, leaving my legs hanging off, and bite my lip in anticipation as he pushes his boxers to the floor and steps toward me. He takes his dick in his hand and bends over me, finding my slit and pressing into me.
As he enters me, I cry out and he lets out a massive groan. He's stretching me to the limit, and I have to take deep breaths to relax my muscles enough to let him in.
"You feel so good..." he moans, taking a slow stroke back as he reaches forward and grabs my breasts with both hands. "This might be a quick one," he warns me.