"Watch your mouth, Evangeline. I don't take well to teasing." He pushed his hips into my core firmly.
"Neither do I." I wrapped my arms around his neck and shimmied closer to him seeking more friction. He ran one finger down the curve of my neck, his other hand still holding tightly to my hair and arching my head to the side. He skimmed his lips along my throat and continued to grind his arousal into my core. A soft moan escaped my lips.
"I know you don't." His lips pressed soft kisses underneath the sensitive flesh beneath my ear. "What do you want for breakfast?" He breathed softly into my ear and then pulled away from me with a devilish smile.
My eyes shot open and I heaved a disappointed sigh. I pressed my lips together and regarded him for a moment before hopping off the island.
"Well, since I’ll very nearly starve if I’m to rely on your skills, I think I’ll fend for myself." I opened the door to the pantry and my eyes widened for a moment when I realized it was a walk-in. Practically the size of my bedroom at home. The shelves were stacked floor to ceiling with boxed and canned goods, bottles of water, and more.
"Ready for the apocalypse?" I frowned and then my eyes lit on what I was looking for.
"Pop-Tarts, Evangeline?" Carter frowned.
"They're in your house. Toaster?"
"I would imagine they were left by my brother. He's got an affinity for junk food." He grinned.
I scoffed at him in mock offense. "Shut it and point me to the toaster."
He laughed and pointed to a cabinet under the counter. I pulled out the toaster and threw the Pop-Tarts in. I leaned my upper body on the counter top and crossed my legs at the ankle, swaying my hips back and forth waiting for my breakfast to pop up. I could feel the fabric of Carter's shirt riding up my thighs and the huff from across the room told me he had noticed too. Just then strong hands circled around my waist and I felt his hips press into my bottom. He held my hips still with one hand and with the other ran it up the curve of my spine underneath the shirt. He stroked softly as he pressed his hardened arousal into me. I pressed back against him and closed my eyes. My breathing became ragged and I willed him to break his promise of abstinence.
He stroked back down my back and then slid his palm up on top of the shirt to reach into my hair. He brushed his fingers through it tenderly, and then tightened his grip and gave a soft tug.
"You. Drive. Me. Insane," he leaned over my body and said in my ear in a throaty whisper. A smile played across my lips as I pushed back into his arousal eagerly wanting to take the next step.
"Oh no, Evangeline. Not until after you marry me." And just like that Carter's body pulled away from mine, breaking all contact. I whimpered in disappointment just as my Pop-Tarts popped up. Carter set a plate down on the counter next to me and I flopped my breakfast on the plate and turned to him with a huff and a glare. He smiled, downed the rest of his coffee and then walked out of the room.
"Thirty minutes, Evangeline," he tossed out behind him. God help me but I love that infuriating, sexy man.
Thirty minutes later the dress designer, who introduced herself as Nanette, arrived with an entourage of assistants pulling in racks of white dresses. I raised my eyebrows and chewed on my bottom lip, hating that I had such a short amount of time to make such a monumental wedding-dress decision. In fact, Carter had said very little about what he was planning, so I had no idea what to expect. Not that I was terribly disappointed, I was notoriously indecisive; in fact, my feelings about our relationship the past few weeks had proven that, so I was happy to leave the details of our wedding in Carter's very capable hands.
Carter noticed my unease and rubbed my shoulders reassuringly. "You're going to be beautiful no matter what, Evangeline."
I rolled my head back and closed my eyes, trying to relax.
"Take your time, beautiful girl. I'll be back in a few hours." He kissed me softly on the lips and then left me with a mountain of white dresses.
I stepped into the spare bedroom Nanette and an assistant had set up in. She was eager and friendly, no doubt Carter had offered her ungodly amounts of money to make a house call. She was pleasant, asking me questions and making conversation. One of the assistants on the other hand was standoffish and even bordered on rude.
My heart thudded in my chest as the realization hit me that I was getting married tomorrow, to a man that I hardly knew, and who sometimes drove me insane. Maybe I was the insane one to be doing this. But I also knew that I’d never felt like this with anyone else. Carter and I had some irresistible connection—a pull to be together, something that couldn’t keep us apart. While butterflies were fluttering in my stomach, I knew now, more than I had yesterday; I had a feeling, stronger than ever, that this was right.