Page 73 of Beauty Beneath the Sorrow
“You moved back because of your grandmother?”
He runs his nose back and forth over my tingling skin. The gesture is sweet and passionate. I’m not sure he even knows he’s doing it like it comes naturally. “Yeah. I wasn’t too worried about her after my grandfather passed because she was involved in all these clubs and groups with other women her age. She had a lot of friends. But over time, her disease progressed, and she couldno longer take care of herself.”
“I’m sorry. That must have been so hard for you to be away.” My heart is heavy for him.
“For sure. And that’s how I ended up here, flying commercial.” I exhale a heavy breath. “Thanks to one of my closest friends.” We exchange a brief glance, both of us acutely aware of who he is referring to.
I knew bits and pieces of his story but not the details. As I put everything into place, I realize Carter was always going to be here for only a short time.
“I’m glad you’re here.” I thread my fingers through his dark, silky hair.
He smiles. “Me too. It was the right move. Although I struggled at first with turning down an instructor position at one of the Navy’s most prestigious flight schools.”
I scratch my head, imagining how difficult that decision was for him. That world is all he knows. His decision to put his life on hold was a selfless and completely authentic action that shows what type of man he is. And it painfully deepens my feelings for him.
My eyes roam the back of his biceps, visually tracing another one of his tattoos. This one is an F-18 fighter jet. I recognize it instantly—a tattoo that speaks to my soul. Being in the air is the best feeling—it’s powerful and euphoric.
“How is she doing?” I ask.
“It’s an ugly disease, but she has excellent doctors.” He sighs. “I’m grateful to be around her now. I never had a wife or children while in the Navy to worry about me, but I know she and my grandfather always did. At the same time, she was extremelyproud.” Carter’s voice is low.
I feel closer to him in this moment than I do with most people. I question if this is strong physical attraction—or if what we experience together is more than just physical.
“I bet she was and still is extremely proud of you and the man you’ve become.”
“I know she is.” His hands slide underneath my ass. Both of his palms grasp at me, pulling me down closer. I go limp, falling victim to each one of his gentle yet firm demands. I let him move me however he wants.
“I’m sure it was hard on my dad too,” I reply without a prior thought. Carter’s muscles stiffen.Shit. I shouldn’t have mentioned my dad. “Sorry.”
Without having to explain, he knows exactly what I’m apologizing for. I cup his face with my hands and let my fingertips brush against the heavenly prickle of his stubble. I lift him to make eye contact with me. “I should go now. It’s getting late.”
He nods.
I brace myself with my elbow pushing into a sitting position, but then I feel the hot, wet sensation of Carter’s tongue along the sliver of exposed skin between my pants and my workout tank top. I fall back onto the couch.
“I need a taste, Lina. Please,” he begs, propping up my hips while using his chin to push down the hem of my pants.
“You promised. A deal is a deal,” I say, without conviction behind my words.
“You said no sex. You didn’t say we couldn’t do anything else,” he mumbles, his breath filled with warmth.
God, I want him inside me so fucking bad. I squeeze my eyelids shut and wipe a hand down my face. “I can’t. We can’t. What we’re doing is confusing me.”
“We’re being with each other. That’s what this is. Us beingus.” He slowly crawls up my body and rests his forehead against mine. “We’re perfect, baby. You know that.”
“We are.” I rub my nose against his. “I know we are.”
Carter lowers his weight on top of me. “I know what you mean, though.” I purse my lips together. He sees my confusion and answers before I have the chance to ask for clarity. “When it’s us, we’re in this simple little bubble—our own world.”
Exhaling deeply, I fear for the continuation of this conversation and now regret bringing it up. I want to feel good right now, and when I’m with Carter, it feels easy and light—yet electric and intense. A combination of emotions that are deep but liberating.
“Let’s not talk about it.” I force a smile.
He flexes. “Alright.”
Carter’s heavy body lays over me, his weight slightly lifting onto his elbows at my sides. He rests his head on my chest while my fingers are back, combing through his silky, dark hair.
“Do you miss flying?” I ask, attempting to change the subject.
