My face turns bright red. Both from embarrassment and from the memory of just how amazing it was.
“Chase,” Cartier grits out. “What do you mean, no more anal?”
“Yeah, man, sorry about that,” Chase sighs, lifting his shoulders in a slight shrug. “You can’t do it anymore. The clause and all. You know how it goes. They’re playing their trump cards here, dude. Only oral and vaginal sex from here on out.”
Which actually means just oral. Because we have eight more weeks until Carter can lose his virginity. And I’m not going to let him give in, even though that was the original plan—why I was hired by the network in the first place. It’s going to take everything I have to help him resist, especially if we can no longer do what we just did in the limo.
“Fuck, Chase,” Carter says. “This is going too far.”
Chase gives us a semi-sympathetic smile, but I can’t tell if it’s sincere or not.
“Come on, Ashley. Let’s go upstairs.”
Carter laces his fingers through mine, squeezing my hand reassuringly, and pulls me past Chase and through the doors of his building, across the elegant lobby, and toward the elevator.
I think about that conversation the entire way up. Once we’re in Carter’s apartment, I turn to face him. “You need to tell me everything that’s going on.”
He sighs, raking a hand over his jaw where dark stubble is showing, making my pussy tingle with the thought of what it would feel like scraping across my inner thighs as his mouth worked me over. Chase made a point of saying that oral was still on the table. But right now I want to know why there are these new rules I knew nothing about.
> “Carter? What’s going on? Why can’t we do that anymore? What are these stipulations? There’s something I don’t know. Why has everything changed all of a sudden? This has never been an issue on the show before.”
He nods, his eyes weary, looking like he’s trying to find the right words. I feel like a bundle of raw nerves. Everything is so confusing, especially all these new feelings I have for him. And he still isn’t saying anything.
“Look, Carter. You need to talk to me. Tell me what’s going on. I want you. You know that. I care for you. I want to be with you. Why can’t we just be together?”
I take a deep breath, ready to lay it all on the line. What I’m about to say could go either way, and I have no idea how he’ll respond. But I’ve been backed into a corner. I don’t know everything anymore. There’s more to this than I’ve been let in on.
“What’s the deal? Just tell me. I have to know. Don’t you love me?”
Carter
Oh fuck. I can’t believe she just asked me that. Point blank. And worse, I don’t know how to answer. I’m halfway freaked the fuck out and halfway elated. Because the way she just said that makes it sound like she might feel that way about me. I can’t be sure, but it certainly sounds like a possibility.
Looking at Ashley, all perfect and gorgeous and so fucking sexy as she stands there waiting for my answer, I suddenly know.
I do.
I love her.
I can’t believe it. I never even saw it coming. But it’s true. Even knowing that the network arranged for her to meet me, that they set the whole thing up, I still know that I really and truly love her. Honestly, after all these years of women hounding me, trying desperately to get a piece of me or my money, not really caring about who I am, I never expected to find someone who I could fall in love with.
Until Ashley. But she doesn’t care about my money. She doesn’t care about my show, or about being the one to get Carter Blaine to give it up. None of that matters to her. She just likes me for me.
And I’m totally and completely in love with her.
I take a deep breath, preparing to lay it all out for her.
“Ashley.” I take a step toward her. “I need to tell you. I know I do. Maybe we should sit down for this.”
She gives me a dubious look, like she’s afraid I’m about to drop some huge bomb on her, and I kind of am. I don’t think anyone else but Lola, Chase, and the executives at the network know about the two billion dollar financial incentive in the contract.
Shaking her head, Ashley places a hand on her hip. “I’m fine right here.”
Her body language screams that she’s on alert, that she’s throwing up walls left and right to brace for what I’m about to say.
I reach for her anyway. I take her by the shoulders and pull her close. She doesn’t resist, though her gaze is wary.
“Look. Here’s the deal. When I first signed with ABN, they put a stipulation in my contract. Well, more of an incentive. They thought it would help me agree to sign on for a full season. And they thought it would help me make it to the end of that first season—or at least close.”