“My next door neighbor,” he replied immediately. After the car next to ours left, it was quiet again. The car was like a cocoon, quiet and close. His clean scent was stronger now and with him looking at me directly, his eyes seemed almost black. “And before you say I fucked her, I didn't. She's a lesbian and doesn't find my equipment all that exciting.”
I couldn't help it, my mouth fell open.
“Then why?” I asked, before I thought better of it.
“Why do I find escorts who are already claimed or completely disinterested in me? Because the woman I wanted to ask was sitting outside my brother’s office. I had to take a date, as you're well aware, so I found women to accompany me, but that's all.”
“Then you really didn't—”
I couldn't finish my sentences around him.
“I didn't fuck them. I haven't fucked anyone. Hell, I haven't touched anyone since I saw you. I’ve just been waiting, Emma, waiting for you to finish school. Being a fucking gentleman.” His hand gripped the steering wheel so tightly I feared it would break. “Until you forced my hand.”
Oh. Holy shit. The whole V-card thing.
He turned to look at me and I melted into the seat, my whole body on fire for him. “Your body is mine, Emma. I don’t share.”
Normally, the whole caveman vibe would turn me off. But coming from Carter, it had the opposite effect. I felt wanted, desired. The idea that I had been the reason for his sexual dry spell was overwhelming. Me! I wasn't anything special, not in comparison to those gorgeous women who'd escorted him to the events, especially now in my yoga pants when I was nowhere near a gym. But he hadn't touched those women. Certainly not his sister, definitely not the wife of a friend. He might be the hottest guy I'd ever seen, but he didn't have a chance with a lesbian.
“Why me?” I asked, when he turned off the car.
“You’re smart, beautiful, and classy. Your curves go on for miles and every time I look at you, all I can think about is bending you over my desk and filling you with my cock. That virginity you wanted to throw away, that was mine.”
“That's awfully possessive of you,” I countered.
He stared at me, his eyes dark and intent. There I saw so much, everything he'd never shown me before. It was the most heated, most carnal gaze I'd ever seen. “I want you, Emma. And not as a one-night-stand.”
I couldn’t breathe, hope like a butterfly floating in my chest. “Then what do you want?”
“Forever.”
My heart beat too fast. Forget butterflies. A herd of buffalo was running through my stomach and I felt like I was going to faint.
Carter looked at me for a moment, then reached over to touch my forehead, as if I were a sick child with a fever. “Emma? Are you all right?”
“No.” No. I wasn’t all right. I’d somehow stepped into an alternate reality where I got to fuck Carter Buchanan. Where the sexy as sin billionaire started talking about forever with the innocent and inexperienced secretary. This had to be a dream. Or a joke. Maybe a bet? Had he made one of those stupid bets about who gets the virgin, like I’d seen in the movies? Just how stupid was I being here?
Truly. What were the odds that Carter Buchanan, sexy, smart billionaire really, truly wanted middle-class nobody, a secretary who’d never even been with a man before?
He should be out with a supermodel or an actress. Or a freaking doctor or something. I was fooling myself. Looking away from his concerned expression, I said, “Take me home, please.”
“Talk to me.”
“Take me home.”
I saw a muscle in his jaw tick, but he started the car and drove me back to my place. The short ride was in complete silence and it was excruciating. I thought he’d drop me off and go, thanks to the cold shoulder I was giving him. Instead, he parked and hurried to my side of the car to help me out. It turned out to be a good thing, because my knees were shaky as hell, just like my emotions.
Chapter Eight
Emma
Carter wrapped his arm around my waist and led me back to my door. When I fumbled with the keys, he took them from me and unlocked the deadbolt. After escorting me inside, he closed the door behind us, flipped on a light and walked me to the couch. I sat down with a heavy sigh.
Maybe I did need food. Or a reality check. Everything felt like it was spinning out of control.
A few days ago, I’d been confident and ready to move on with my life, ready to leave my obsession with Carter behind.
Now, he was on his knees on my living room floor. On his knees! His hands rested on my thighs, as if he owned them, their heat burning away the fog in my brain and turning it into something else.
“Carter,” I whispered.