Interestingly, he appeared nonchalant about whether or not we were spotted together. He was quite casual about the whole thing. In fact, he inched closer to me and placed a hand on the small of my back. A wicked thrill chased down my spine and I shuddered.
He spared a glance down at me, a brow crooked. “It’s late spring in Phoenix and you’ve got a chill?”
I laughed. “Hardly.” The temperature had crested ninety today.
He grinned and a knowing look crossed his handsome face. Of course my intense attraction to him was obvious—it was impossible to hide. But I was no longer that awestruck pixie I’d been in high school. I knew a thing or two about sexual chemistry and, as best as I could tell—from my point of view anyway—Carter and I had it in spades.
When we reached the door to his suite, he fished his electronic keycard out of his pocket and inserted it in the slot above the brass lever. The green lights flashed and he cranked the handle and pushed the door open, his other hand never leaving my back.
He gave me a gentle nudge and I stepped inside his hotel room, all sorts of thoughts suddenly springing to mind. It wasn’t just a room with a bed in it, so I should not have instantly thought of rumpling the sheets with Carter. How absurd that notion even popped into my head. But then again… It wasn’t the first time I’d imagined getting naked with him. I’d fantasized about it on numerous occasions over the years. And here I was, in his suite.
To talk and have wine, I reminded myself. Yet I couldn’t quite dislodge the idea of sleeping with Carter. It was more than an idea. It was a burning desire that made my nipples pucker and my pussy throb.
The door closed behind us and I jumped.
“You okay?” he asked. “You’re not worried about being alone with me, are you?
A strangled laugh fell from my lips.
“Please,” I said. “I totally trust you. Though perhaps you should be worried about being alone with me.”
I was shocked those words had leaped off my tongue, but there they were, lingering between us.
To break the awkward moment, I told him, “I could use another glass of water, if you don’t mind. Little toasty outside.” That was a blatant lie. It’d cooled down substantially after the sun had set, and the climate had been pleasant as we’d sat on the patio. Plain and simple, Carter had my insides blazing.
Clearly he was on to me. “Right,” he said, a hint of amusement in his tone. His eyes glowed seductively in the dim lighting, the lamp in the corner by the sofa providing the only illumination in the room.
I wondered if his thoughts ran the same direction as mine. I wasn’t a sex fiend by any stretch of the imagination, but with him, I supposed I could become one.
He moved around me and crossed to the mini-fridge in his partial kitchen. A large, round table sat in the dining area, and a basket of goodies took up a vast portion of it. He hadn’t been kidding about the size of the delivery.
“You could eat and drink for a week out of this basket.”
With a laugh, he said, “You’re probably right.”
Retrieving a bottle of water from the fridge, he poured two glasses and handed one to me.
Then he asked, “What do you prefer—white or red?”
I eyed the labels on the bottles of red still nestled against thin, accordion-style shreds of filler in the Rattlers’ colors of copper, teal and black. Whistling under my breath at the expensive varietals—I knew high-end wines because I’d covered a number of wine festivals for the magazine—I selected a Sangiovese.
“This will do nicely.”
“You have good taste.”
He took the bottle from me and uncorked it as I sipped my water. I liked watching him do even the simplest things like work a wine pull and fill our glasses. He moved fluidly, almost gracefully, despite his size. And his big hands weren’t the least bit clumsy. His fingers were long and tapered, and I couldn’t help but think of them trailing languidly along my inner thigh or brushing over a bare breast.
My own fingers shook slightly as I exchanged my water for the wine. We touched the rims of our glasses together as his gaze locked with mine.
“It really is good to see you, Cherish. I’ve thought about you over the years. Wondered what you were up to, if you’d gotten married and had kids.”
I held up my bare left hand, the backside facing Carter. Wiggling my fingers, I said, “Still single. Haven’t met anyone who curls my toes enough to have a long-term relationship with.”
It occurred to me that wasn’t entirely true. Just thinking of Carter could do the trick. But he’d always been out of my reach, so my fantasizing about him hadn’t gone further than breath-stealing kisses like the one we’d had at prom, or sexy vignettes I’d conjured in my mind whenever I thought of him.