Except Carter is different from all the other men I’ve had sex with.
For a start, I know him. I’ve told him things I’ve told no one else. Not even my closest friends Elizabeth and Alexandria know some of the things Carter does.
God. In the two years I’ve been coming to Boyd’s looking for a brief escape from reality, I’ve been more open—more honest—with him than taking off my clothes and letting him fuck me could ever make me.
He shifts, braces his hands on the desk either side of my head and pushes up. A shudder followed by burning need rushes through me as he slowly slides his cock out of my sensitive pussy.
The man is still hard and all sorts of naughty thoughts race around in my head before I shut them down and remind myself I never have seconds.
“Let me grab something to clean up with.” He’s gone before I can speak.
Levering myself up, I take stock of the carnal ache cramping my muscles, throbbing between my legs, and hope my trembling knees will hold steady. The sound of running water reaches my ears and I turn to find where it’s coming from.
A door I hadn’t noticed when I entered the office is wide open, and I can see a small bathroom tucked on the other side of it. Now that I have something other than hot sex on the brain I take a closer look at my surroundings.
The office is not large but it isn’t small either, and it’s well appointed. My background tells me the furnishings and computer system aren’t cheap. One thing that impressed me from the moment I stepped inside Boyd’s is the quality of the place. It might be a dive bar in a less affluent area of the city, but nothing about it is low-end.
My gaze lands on the clothes strewn across the floor where we haphazardly dropped or tossed them. Even Carter’s clothes aren’t bargain-basement.
Not that anything is obvious like Nadia with her moneyed-socialite ways, or Elsbeth with her brash look-what-I’ve-got personality and designer labels broadcasting she has money.
But to those who know the signs, it is apparent Carter is doing more than all right for himself.
“Here.” I turn to find him holding a cloth. “Let me clean you up.”
“Oh my God, are you for real?” I push his hand away, take a step back. “I’ll just use the bathroom.”
I try not to look at the man. He’s still naked. Still hard. But my eyes seem to have a mind of their own because they zero right in on his erection like it’s the first one they’ve ever seen.
God, there is no denying the man is built. Gloriously long and thick and I’ve had him inside me…
My throat constricts. My pussy too.
Before I give in and ask for another go-round, I force my gaze away and my feet to move. Walking past him, head high, I aim for the bathroom. Closing the door between us, I lean back against it and take a deep breath.
The solitude gives me a moment to catch my breath. But it doesn’t tamp down the desire running hot through my veins. No one would believe I’ve just had…
Shit. How many times did Carter make me climax?
With arousal still teasing my senses and need clenching my abdomen you would think I hadn’t orgasmed at all.
I’d come to Boyd’s to escape the emotions dinner with the girls had me feeling and Carter delivered.
Except nothing about this encounter is comparable to any other.
For one, I’d never experienced pleasure so intense. Honestly had no idea pleasure so great it bordered on pain existed.
And two, with every other man at this point of the night I would no longer be thinking about him or the sex, I would already be dressed and heading home, no thoughts of a repeat.
I knew Carter would be different; maybe that’s why in spite of my instant attraction to him I never went there. Some small part of my instincts must have kept me away because subconsciously I knew he would be the one man I wouldn’t want to walk away from.
Just the thought of a naked Carter on the other side of the door has my pulse thumping and my body tightening.
How the hell am I going to find the strength to put my clothes on and leave?
6
CARTER
