I smiled. “You still give me butterflies.”
“I had no idea,” he said. “You didn’t say anything after I kissed you at prom. The song ended and you rushed over to your table, grabbed your stuff and hurried out.”
Shrugging a shoulder, I told him, “I had to call my mom for a ride, since my date was obviously taking someone else home. And I didn’t really know what to make of that kiss.”
It had been the perfect first kiss. Without tongue, just our lips tangling together. I’d felt its effect all the way to my toes. Interestingly, his simple peck on the cheek did the same thing to me.
“I had two choices that night,” he said. “Punch your date in the face or dance with you.”
“Made me much less of a loser to be seen dancing with you.”
“You were never a loser. You just went to prom with the wrong guy.”
He still leaned toward me and I could smell a hint of his cologne. I wanted to close my eyes and inhale deeply, but I couldn’t bring myself to break the intense eye contact.
I said, “The right guy didn’t ask me to prom. But I’m glad he asked me to dance with him.”
“It was four or five minutes of my life I’ve never forgotten.”
“Me either.”
Heat flashed in his eyes, but was chased away by some sort of inner strife.
“Cherish.” He shook his head and started to stand. I stopped him by clasping his biceps to keep him in place.
“Wait,” I said.
He settled on the cushion and stared quizzically at me.
I had no idea what to say, and my heart beat so fast, it was a wonder I didn’t keel over. But this seemed to be the best time to tell Carter how I’d felt about him ten years ago, and how I still felt about him today.
Pulling in a steadying breath, then letting it out slowly, I dove in headfirst. “One dance with you, and that kiss, made prom the best night of my life, when it should have been the worst because I’d been dumped. I’ve followed your career since. And when I saw that article about you in the Republic, I swapped stories with Taylor because I was desperate to see you. I wanted you to know how much I’d changed. And I’m not just talking about the way I look. I’m a woman, Carter.”
“Yes, you are,” he said, his voice thick with desire. “The second I saw you, even before I realized who you were, I thought you were gorgeous. And your smile took my breath away. Then I looked more closely at your mouth and your eyes, and I instantly knew that gorgeous woman was you. My pulse has been off the charts ever since.”
My heart nearly burst from my chest. I’d never been daring enough to make a first move, but I couldn’t stop myself from tugging on his arm until he was closer to me. I pressed my lips to his as my eyelids fluttered closed.
A low groan from Carter made my own pulse soar. He ran a hand through my hair, until he cupped the back of my head, holding me in place as our lips parted and his tongue delved deep, sweeping over mine. His grown-up kiss was hot and demanding. Passionate and lustful. I would have lost my footing had I been standing.
His arm slid around my waist, his hand splaying over the small of my back. My upper body melded to his, my breasts nestling under the ledge of his hard pectoral muscles. The desire to rip his shirt open and strip off my dress so I could feel his skin against mine rose within me. But I fought the urge and instead concentrated on how skillfully and sexily he kissed me. How wonderful it was to have his hunky body pressed to mine. How easily he stirred my emotions and ignited a roaring fire between my legs.
A prickly sensation along my clit was accompanied by a sharp throb in my pussy. Lord, how I wanted this man. More than I’d ever wanted anything in my life. Ever.
When he finally broke our kiss, we both panted heavily and I was lightheaded again.
Carter’s eyes bore into me, and they were flooded with emotion. “Cherish,” he began, but then frowned and shook his head once more.
My heart stuttered and nearly came to a grinding halt as dread ribboned through my insides. “What?” I asked. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s just…” He shoved a hand through his hair. “That was more amazing than I’d imagined. And that’s a bad thing. A really bad thing.”
I had no idea how to process that comment. “You’ve lost me again.”
“I’m sorry.” He groaned, and this time it wasn’t in a lusty way, but in a tormented way. “The thing is,” he told me as he stood again, faced me and crossed his arms over his wide chest, “I have to wholly commit myself to this new job, the surgery and the rehabilitation. No distractions. And you… Christ, you are a huge distraction.”