“Ah, right. How could I forget? And that led to marriage? Clingy exes ‘round the world are going to be really excited to hear this works.”
“It worked for you,” he verifies. “I didn’t want to leave you behind anyway, so I was happy to see you peeking around pillars on campus. In fact, I flirted with a couple girls just to get a rise out of you. Once you scared them off with your Tootsie Roll, I hauled your ass back to my apartment and made you mine. Eventually we got married, something about you wanting babies to play in leaf piles. They’re asleep upstairs while my accomplished wife celebrates her big brain with her snobby friends. I don’t like many of them, myself, but I have plenty of snobby friends you don’t like, too.”
“Oh, well, that seems fair, then.”
He nods. “It works out. Then at the end of the day, we can both take off our public faces, shake off our snobby colleagues, and reconnect with what’s real. Every night, I curl up with a woman who knows me and likes me anyway, and every night, you get to curl up beside a man who finds you as endlessly fascinating as you find your work.”
Even though I know he’s just playing with me, his words wrap around me like vines. They shake me like nothing he’s ever said before, tempt me like no words ever have.
I want that.
I know logically it’s much too soon to know whether or not I could ever have that with him, but that it’s his scenario… maybe.
“You find me endlessly fascinating?” I ask.
Bending his head to kiss my neck, he murmurs near my ear, “I’ve never met anyone I could talk to the way I can with you. You know exactly who you are and what you stand for, but you have an openness I’ve never encountered before. You’re not stubborn like most people; it’s not your way or the highway. You’re curious and flexible, you’ll try out new ways of approaching things rather than accepting the beaten path as the only way. I love the breadth of your mind. I love just hanging out and talking with you, and…” He unbuttons my jeans. “I’m a pretty big fan of everything else we do, too.”
This time, I don’t even stall. He unbuttons and unzips my pants, sliding his hand down inside. Lust twists low in my belly and I let my eyes drift closed as his hand cups me, his fingers sliding under the fabric of my panties so he can touch me.
Pushing a finger inside me, he leans close and catches my gasp in his mouth. “I love the way you feel,” he mumbles against my lips. “The way you taste. I love your little cries when I make you come.”
With his words warming me up so effectively, my response to his touch is immediate and electrifying. His finger rubs against my clit and my whole body jerks, lightning rods of pleasure coursing straight through me. I grab onto his shoulders and pull him closer, feeling the pronounced rise and fall of my chest as I breathe harder.
“I spend every day of my life with people who like the look of a mask I wear, Zoey. You’re the only person who likes what’s underneath better.”
“Carter,” I murmur, needing to kiss him, to express affection. I bend to reach him, brushing my lips against his. His words massage my mind and my heart, his fingers work my body, and in no time at all, I cry out against his mouth as I come apart.
My body is boneless in the aftermath, and my eyes drift closed. I’m tired, satisfied, and Carter’s bed is so comfortable. He moves down the bed and pulls off my jeans. My panties come off next, then he starts tugging my new Longhorns tank top up my midriff.
“You don’t want to leave my Longhorns shirt on and pretend I’m an eager-to-please Carter Mahoney fan?” I tease.
“And miss the chance to watch your tits bounce while I fuck you? I don’t think so.”
I sit up enough for him to drag the tank top off over my head, then start to recline against the mattress again. Before I can, Carter gets his hand around my back and unsnaps my bra, then he drags that off, too.
Once more, I’m stripped bare, and Carter is still fully dressed. He comes down on top of me, the smooth fabric of his T-shirt soft against my skin. The sensation of the fabric dragging across my nipples causes them to harden. On instinct, I arch my breasts closer to him, craving his touch.
His hand slides down my side and he anchors it on my hip, pulling me as he rolls onto his back so that I end up on top of him.