Page 37 of Stand Your Ground
“With pleasure,” he muttered, hand shooting out for the tie of the sheer dress I wore. It rested just between my breasts, but before he could tug on it, I swatted his hand away.
“Pacing, Rook.” I smirked, and just like that, I was the teacher, and he was the student, and my family drama didn’t exist — at least for the moment. “Touch my hair, my neck. Toy with the straps of my top. Run your knuckles down my arm. And when you can’t stand it anymore, when I’m leaning in and giving you all the signs that I’m with you…” I shrugged. “Kiss me.”
His eyes shot wide at that.
“What?” I asked. “Don’t tell me I have to teach you how tokiss. For fuck’s sake, Rookie.”
“No, no,” he said hurriedly, shaking his head. “I just… I didn’t expect you to let me kiss you.”
“It’s only for educational purposes,” I clipped. “Don’t think this is an open invitation for you to kiss me any time you want.”
“I’ll take whatever you give me, Mommy.”
Again, he won himself an unbidden laugh with that, and I turned it into a growl before flicking his nose like a dog.
“Focus,” I said. “Or I’m walking right back out that door.”
“Okay, okay.” Carter threw his hands up in surrender before settling back into his relaxed, cocky, laid-back posture. He hit me with a lazy smirk, and the hand he had draped around the couch, and therefore me, began to gently rub my neck.
He wore his nerves like an article of clothing, his brows pinching together a bit like he was thinking really hard about his next move. He winced before taking his next breath, his eyes fluttering shut as a long inhale and exhale left him.
When he opened his eyes again, it was with a sense of calm.
He was quiet for a moment, his eyes watching where he touched me before they started to hike the rest of me like I was a trail in the Appalachian Forest. His touch grew softer, fingertips swirling in soft circles that made goosebumps erupt over my arms.
“I like this,” he muttered, fingertips sliding under the thin strap of my dress. He ran it slowly beneath the fabric, toyingwith it suggestively. Then, his hand trailed down, knuckles grazing my arm, rib cage, and oblique before he followed the line of my belt to the buckle that sat squarely between my hips. “Ireallylike this.”
He slid his hand under the belt and tugged with the words.
And white-hot electricity shot between my thighs.
I arched a brow and smiled, amused by how well that had worked. “Oh yeah?” I teased, still letting him lead.
He nodded, his hand finding its way back up to curl around my neck. He played with my hair at the back of it, making me close my eyes and let out a sigh at the way it felt.
“You’re so beautiful.”
I nearly gagged, eyes rolling open so I could pinpoint him with an unimpressed glare.
He chuckled. “Wow. You’d have thought I said you have warts.”
“That line is tired,” I said. “Try again.”
He frowned. “But you are beautiful.”
Whydid it feel like he poured a bucket of roaches on me when he said that?
Maybe it was because those words made me flash back to the most horrid night of my life, to the time a man older than me, a man I trusted, said the same two words before completely destroying me.
“You’re beautiful.”
Panic was playing at the edges of my calm façade, but I must have still had a look of disgust on my face, because Carter full-on laughed and shook his head. “Alright, alright, no comments about beauty. Hmm…”
He wiggled his shoulders, sitting up taller as his brows folded together in concentration. I let that action bring me back to the present, shutting the door on the past and leaving it right where it belonged.
Carter continued playing with my hair, careful not to toy with it too much, just enough to give me the sensation. Then, he leaned in closer, taking my hat off and trailing the rim of it down my arm before he sat it behind me. His other hand came up to frame my jaw, and he tilted my head toward him.
“You are fucking remarkable, Liv. You know that?”
