Perdie breathed in big and deep like she was doing a line of coke. Except it wasn’t coke she was inhaling, but that familiar, cool scent Carter seemed to naturally exude. She wanted to push her nose into his chest and rub it all over her. He smelled like air smelled the morning after it snowed.
She crossed her arms, squishing her seat belt into the crevice of her boobs, feeling dank and musty in her day-old T-shirt with the red wine stain. It would’ve been nice if she had brought a jacket with her, but the weather had been wonky in Charleston.
“Congrats on the settlement.” Carter’s eyes flicked to her, his large hand resting on the console between them as he drove. “Big personal win for you, right?”
It had been. In fact, Perdie had received an email from her managing partner, Frank, requesting to set up a meeting with her on Monday. “Good news only,” Frank had said.
Perdie had her hopes up. She tucked her hair behind her ears and caught a glance of herself in the side mirror. Shit. She smoothed down the errant hairs on the crown of her head. “Yeah, on my side of the table, we only eat what we kill. We don’t pump our clients for hours and then walk away with a fat check even if we lose.”
A puff of air escaped his lips. “I guess we’re not all natural born killers. You think maybe I could learn?”
She pushed her head into her hand against the passenger window. “Not a chance.”
He laughed. “Well, tell me how you really feel.”
She narrowed her eyes. There was levity in Carter’s voice, but people often said that to her as if she was too honest with them. What they really meant was stop telling me how you feel because I don’t like it. But it did make Noah’s words ring in her head. Holding in feelings wasn’t only bad for the soul. It was bad for the body too.
“Why’re you here?” She turned her head to get a good look at his profile offset by the white-blue Charleston sky whipping by them.
His smile faded and he scrubbed his hand down his mouth. “One a scale of one to ten, how irritating would it be to say I couldn’t tell you?”
She pursed her lips. “I’d say you’re gonna need a bigger scale.”
He chuckled. “Would a lie suffice, then?”
His large hands slid up to the smooth curve of the steering wheel, as they merged onto the Ravenel Bridge, its flared white rib cage swallowing them whole.
“Okay, man of mystery. I can take a hint. None of my business.” She worried her bottom lip with her teeth, gazing out the window, his reflection visible against the glass. It surprised her when the next sound was her own voice. “The blonde woman though.”
The sides of his eyes crinkled, but he seemed to suppress a smile. “Yes. Aubrey.”
“Aubrey doesn’t care that you left her hanging to drive me home?”
His eyes flickered over to her. “Oh, I see. You’re jealous.”
Like a reflex, she went to deny it, but then she stopped herself. For weeks she’d been thinking about this man, and then he finally appeared in the flesh right in front of her like some kind of dark apparition. She wouldn’t waste this moment on plausible deniability. “Honestly?” She shrugged, letting her hands fall together in her lap. “Yeah. I am.”
That earned her a double take from Carter.
Ah-ha. “You’re shocked I’m admitting it? I’m a big enough person to admit that I’m jealous. Like it’s a big deal? Everyone gets jealous.” While it might not save her pride, sometimes taking an opponent off guard was the best strategy of all. And sometimes honesty was the best policy. Inwardly she nodded at that. What a wholesome thought, P.
Carter didn’t respond for a stretch of time, until the motion of his hand sliding down the console in between them and over to her lap caught in her periphery. Her breath hitched at the unexpected contact, his hand smoothing over her thigh. Then easy as a beach breeze, it slipped in between her own hands, his large, rough fingers interlacing with hers in a warm, soft grasp.
“What’s this? What’s happening?” she sputtered.
He drew their hands away from her lap and pressed them to the hard surface of his chest, his pulse barely detectable against the skin on the back of her hand.
“There’s more than one way to be honest.” At her dazed expression, he smirked. “Like it’s a big deal?”
He let their hands slide down the plane of his abdomen, finally resting against one of his jean-clad thighs. She stared at their shared clasp. Well, hell. She wasn’t the only one wielding the element of surprise.
With his available hand, he turned the car off the Sullivan’s Island connector and into the gated community where she lived. They slowed to the keypad at the entryway.
“Gate code?”
She was so mesmerized by the fact that they were holding hands that she didn’t answer right away.
“Perdie?”
“Huh, oh.” Her voice came out breathy. “Sixty-nine, sixty-nine.”
For a second Carter stared, then he let out a crack of a laugh. “Noted,” he mumbled as they passed through the entrance and into the small, well-landscaped community.
His phone GPS led them to her condo. He pulled into a parking space in front of the white building, putting the car into park. Perdie’s eyes shifted from their hands to the door lever then back to their hands.
She bit her lip, assessing the evidence. Carter Leplan was here, in Charleston, the place where she, Perdie Stone, also was.
And he wouldn’t tell her why.
And a beautiful blonde woman called him darling.
And the beautiful woman had asked him to go into a house with her.
And he had said in a minute.
And then...
And then he was holding Perdie’s hand. Holding her hand like it meant something. Like he wanted to press it against his heart so she could feel it beat for her.
Oh gross. Oh god. What was she doing? She had to let go. She had to get out of the car. She didn’t even like holding hands.
“So,” Carter spoke softly. “We’re here.”
She lifted her head. “You wanna come in?”
His chest deflated with an exhale. “Shouldn’t. But I’ll walk you to your door.”
The snap of the seat belt release brought Perdie back to the present. Finally she dropped Carter’s hand, unbuckled, and opened the car door.
There was a tension between them now, a quietness lingering, but she couldn’t quite pin it down. He walked close to her but didn’t touch her as they made their way up the creaky wooden steps to the hidden overhang at her front door. Her condo, while on the second floor, took up half the building, and below them was her private parkway.
But then they were at her door, her feet catching on her Come As You Are welcome mat.
She turned around to speak, but he’d already caught her by the waist, hauling her up against him then slowly stepping them back until her heels touched the ridge of the entryway.
She thought from the heated look in his eyes that his mouth might come down hard onto hers and they’d push against each other in some kind of manic, frantic desire for connection.
But none of that happened.
Instead he lowered his gaze to her hand, took it in his own, and lifted her palm to his mouth. She regarded him with curiosity as he held her hand gently at the wrist, then kissed the sensitive center of her palm with an open mouth, his tongue lashing at the flesh.
She gasped. It was positively Victorian.
Then he turned her hand to the side to expose the thin skin of her inner wrist and applied the same treatment, kissing it, letting his tongue slide across the ridges of her veins, then his bottom lip dragging along. His eyes were stormy. They’d never looked darker, all hints of green vanished.
“You’re being weird,” she whispered, her breath coming fast. She was watching him intently.
“You like it.”
Her eyes shuttered as his mouth closed in on her neck.
“You smell so good,” he said. “Like oranges.”
“It’s pineapple.” She could barely get the words out. “Or maybe tequila.”
The flat of his tongue touched the smooth, taut column of skin on the side of her neck, her head tilting from the sensation, a groan escaping her lips. He kissed her there, slow and hot, his hands trailing up from her waist to crisscross around her back so that their bodies pressed together.
When he broke away, her lips parted, anticipating the inevitable kiss. But he pulled back from her instead, his lids heavy, the color heightened on the crests of his cheekbones, and his hair tousled.
She licked her lips and swallowed. He snaked his right hand up the front of her shirt, and she tensed, waiting for the next swell of sensation which came at the pull of his index finger hooking into the center of the vee on her T-shirt. The stretchy fabric slipped down on one side, revealing the tops of her breasts and the bisecting black line of her bra. A strained groan escaped him at the sight of her sheer bra, sending a thrill up her spine.
“You’re so sexy,” he said, his voice a low growl. “Do you even have any idea?” He leaned his forehead against her sternum, then messily rubbed his hair against the sensitized, exposed skin.
She let out a giggle at the rough sensation. “What the hell are you doing?”
He looked up, hair a mess, lips swollen.
His gaze made her smile drop. “You’re so—” She began, but her words were cut off by the soft, lazy contact of his lips on her own.
“Mmm.” She grabbed the nape of his neck, pulling his head closer to her, her hands threading into his hair, tugging at the soft waves.
But he kept her at bay even through her frantic grasps. He lazily licked into her mouth, letting her lip catch with his, swirling their tongues together in a slow, intoxicating dance. Her head moved with the kiss, catching his rhythm, their mouths open, tongues sliding in and out, heat building low in her belly, nipples beading into hard points.
She dipped her hand in between them, letting her fingers latch at the waist of his jeans, fiddling with the metal button. His muffled, low growl reverberated against her mouth.
Encouraged, she let her fingers slip down farther, gliding to the hard protrusion in his pants, and then grasping its full heft in her hand.
He broke the kiss, his hand enclosing her own, dragging it back up between them. “Wait.”
Her eyes shot wide. “I’m sorry, I thought you wanted me to...”
“No, no. It’s not that.” He closed his eyes, his brows knitted together. “That thing I can’t tell you about... It’s... I need a little time. For your own sake really.”
She cocked her head. Excuse me? “What the hell is that supposed to mean? Don’t act like you know what’s best for my sake. I’m a fully grown woman.”
He nodded. “You’re right. I want to make sure everything is clear between us before we move ahead. Physically or otherwise.”
Presumptuous. “Is this about that Aubrey woman?”
He ran his hands through his hair, then looked back up at her. “Can you give me a little time?”
“Well, exactly how long will you be here?” She shuffled to the side, away from the heat of his body.
“Not sure.” He shifted his weight. “But if there’s a chance I’ll be here for a while, will you see me again?”
This fucking guy. She shook her head slowly. “You’re fucking with me. You know that, right?”
He rubbed his hand against his brow, then scrubbed it down his mouth. She was annoyed with him, but still painfully attracted, and that annoyed her more.
“I’ll make it up to you. Soon. I promise.” He reached out for her, fingering the hem of her shirt, a puff of laughter coming from him at the sight of the stain. “Give me a chance?”
She narrowed her eyes but was acutely aware of the tickle of his index finger against her stomach. Her whole brain zoomed in on that tiny little sensation like there was nothing else in the world. She let out a huff. “Maybe.”
He gripped the hem of her T-shirt, exerting pressure to draw her near again. “I’ll take a maybe.”
“But you’re being fucking weird.”
He nodded, wrapping his other arm around her back, closing the rest of the space between them. “Understood.”
“And I don’t like being—” But her words died off at the touch of his lips. He kissed her long and relaxed, his hand cupping her jaw.
“I don’t like being left in the dark,” she said dazedly.
He let out a long breath of air. “I should go.”
Perdie wanted to stamp her feet and throw a tantrum, demanding he stop being so goddamn cryptic and take her inside her house and fuck the hell out of her.
But instead she shrugged. “Okay.”
He turned to leave, made his way back down the stairs and into his big Southern SUV, and finally drove off out of sight. She leaned against her doorframe, her body slack but overly stimulated and aching. Carter Leplan has ruined my pussy, and I’ll never forgive him for it.
She fished her keys out of her pocket. Dammit, her car was still at the taco joint.