I sighed and shifted my legs, trying to ignore the scent of Carter’s cologne. But it seemed to infiltrate my body like an aphrodisiac, making me think about touching Carter, kissing Carter, opening my legs and watching Carter use his mouth on me until I begged him to fuck me. Again. In my own mind, I was the star of some freaking erotic romance novel and Carter was the bad-boy hero who knew how to work my body until I was so wrung out I couldn’t remember my own name. And I knew he could work me over and make me forget. In his bed, I'd forgotten all about reality for a little while as he filled me, tasted me, held me down and pressed me into his bed...
A soft moan escaped and I cut it off, wrapping my arms around my waist. I turned to stare out the window and saw that we were pulling into a twenty-four hour diner, just as he'd said. God, this was emotional suicide. “I think you should just take me home, Carter.”
Carter turned off the car and faced me.
“Why? I love the pie they serve here. Don't you like pie?”
I had to smile. “Yes, I like pie.”
“Then what's the problem?”
“I just don't understand.” I tugged at the hem of my t-shirt, pulling it lower over my abdomen, needing another layer of protection between him and my overeager pussy. God, I was pathetic.
He frowned, his forearm resting on the steering wheel. “Neither do I, it seems. Explain, sweetheart.”
I waved my hand between us. “That. The sweetheart bit. Why do keep calling me that? It was a one-night-stand, so why dinner?”
“I never said it was a one-night-stand,” he countered.
“Carter, we made out in a bar bathroom.” I felt my cheeks heat and I had to look away.
“That wasn't making out, that was foreplay.”
Oh god. I needed new panties. My hands twisted in my lap as he continued.
“Foreplay for what we did in my bed, foreplay for what we'll do later tonight. Tomorrow. Forever.”
My eyebrows went up. “Forever? But you're a—”
I bit my lip and he frowned. “Finish that sentence.”
I hadn't even said it and I felt like I'd insulted him. But I saw the women, the photos. I knew the truth.
I looked down at my lap. “You're a man whore, Carter. Everyone knows it. I won’t be able to live with myself if I’m just another notch on your belt. That’s not the kind of girl I am.”
A car horn blared from the street, but otherwise there was silence. God, he was going to start the car and take me home. Maybe even undo the locks and push me out onto the pavement.
“So, you think I'm a man whore,” he said finally.
I was thrilled the interior was dark, otherwise he'd see my cheeks heat. He must have recognized that I had no intention of responding, so he continued, completely at ease.
“I haven't been with a woman since I met you.”
I whipped my head around to look at him. The long strands of his dark hair were less groomed than at work and I ached to run my fingers through them. His jaw was darkened by the start of beard.
“I don't believe you,” I replied, leaning against the door to get as far from him as possible.
“Don't believe the rumors.”
“I don't listen to office gossip.” There was enough of it to go around and I knew better than to find truth in any of it. My source was much more reliable. Hell, she set up Carter’s dates for him. Tori. My friend Tori was Carter’s personal admin assistant. That bitch knew everything—and she told me.
He flicked a glance at me, then at a couple that got into the car next to ours. “All right, who have I been with then?” he asked. “You're friends with Tori and she knows more about my day than I do.”
Exactly! “The blond at the Harris ball,” I said.
He thought for a moment about the event back in January.
“My sister.”
His—
“The company Fourth of July party.” There was no way he had two gorgeous sisters, one blond the other a red head.
“Evelyn Patterson.”
I rolled my eyes. At least he wasn't denying there had been a woman with him.
“My best friend's wife,” he added. “You've met Colin Patterson before. Tall guy, we played golf together… with Ford, as part of that charity event back in August. As for the picnic, Colin was on call for the holiday and was pulled in for an emergency C-section. He's an OB. He felt bad that Evelyn would be alone so she came with me.”
Oh.
“When else, Emma?” I saw the cocky smile I knew all too well quirk the corner of his mouth. He didn't look the least bit like a man caught with his pants down, more than once. He looked too confident, as if he really was telling the truth.
“Last week, the Milkin merger reception.”