A flex of his forearms and the murderous fire in his eyes have me bolting over the rows of herbs and bee balm,around the shed, shooting for the back door. Heart pounding, I skid on the fresh grass rounding the side of the house and almost fall face first. I have the door in my field of vision. A couple of yards before I reach the steps and can slide through…
Strong arms wrap around my middle and the proper and polished Carter tackles me to the ground, rolling on the grass, his back taking the brunt of the fall. He holds on tight until I’m pinned under his weight, both panting.
“OK! OK! Sorry,” I gasp, out of breath.
He looks feral. With his coffee hair disheveled, streaks of mud on his face, nostrils flaring. The cells in my body are on alert. I’m not scared. Not with Carter. I’m strung with anticipation.
Then his eyes turn playful, taking me in.
“You can let me go.” I give him an out. We’ve hardly touched each other since he had me pinned against the kitchen cabinets. I’m not sure he still wants to keep pushing boundaries.
The playfulness shifts into something more primal. “Are you sure?”
He pins my wrists over my head with one hand. His lips are dangerously close, but he avoids kissing me again. It wouldn’t be good for me anyway.
“You either overestimated your ability to outrun me or wanted me to chase and catch you. Tell me, Eliza.” His nose drags along my collarbone when the tip of his tongue traces the swells of my breasts. His lips caressing the hollow of my throat. “Is this a game?” He presses down on me and I swallow my moan.
A growl echoes in the back of his throat. “Do I get to play now?”
“Please,” I pant out, too turned on to care I’m begging him to touch me.
“Good kitten,” his fingers drag along my ribs, sending bolts of electricity between my thighs. “Do I win if I make you come all over my hand?”
“Ihmm. Whatever you want. Just, please…I need you.”
The grass prickles my back, but I’m too consumed by the trail of his warm palms and the hungry flash in his eyes. My gasps swirl up, getting lost in the rustle of the trees, and caution flies out the window. It’s scary how often this happens when it comes to Carter.
“I’m fond of this game.” His breath is hot over my neck, his fingers moving boldly under my waistband.
Carter peppers scorching kisses between my breasts, and I catch on fire, wishing I could vanish the flimsy tanktop so I could get closer to him. Holding me in place with his taut frame, he has the same idea and bites down on the seam of the cleavage, dragging the fabric down with his teeth.
Exposed to the breeze and the brush of his lips, I writhe under him, mumbling pleas and promises of a slow painful death if he continues to torture me.
“My impatient, pretty girl,” he chuckles roughly, drawing lazy circles around my clit. “I’ll take my time with you.” Carter slowly pushes two fingers between my legs, and I feel my airways closing with the tension pressing down my belly, traveling up.
He grunts in frustration. “These are in my way.” Carter pulls back on his knees and yanks down my shorts and panties together.
A shocked gasp catches in my throat and my skin burns. I can’t tell if it’s from the way he takes me in or the embarrassment of being so naked outside my bedroom.
“We’re out in the open,” I mumble, scrambling to cover myself, but Carter’s not having it.
He grabs my wrists again and bends to kiss my jaw, one of his hands sliding against my leg until he reaches between my thighs. “I’ve got you,” he says between nips and licks, pushing his fingers inside me. “It’s just the two of us here.”
The unfamiliar sensation of fresh air on my bottom and the way his movements increase in pace coil my insides like a spring, ready to snap. “I’m so close,” I pant raggedly.
The earthy smell of the lake’s shore fills my lungs, together with Carter’s expensive scent, in an unreal sense of euphoria.
With each push, Carter’s back and arm muscles tense, a low rumble roiling in his chest. “Break for me, kitten.”
It doesn’t take much to make me fall apart. I’ve lived in a constant state of arousal around him for the past few weeks.
The wind cools my flushed skin, and I come back to earth. “You win,” I sigh.
His features are a mixture of awe and uncertainty, but a smug purse of his lips quickly covers it. “If you keep stroking my competitive nerve, I’ll have to prove I can win each time.”
I tilt my head to the side, eyeing his pants. “Speaking of stroking.”
His head dips and he hides his smile in kisses on my nose and under my ear. “I’m in no rush. Plus,” he says, lifting us both, “I was promised we’d go skinny dipping.”
