Man of the House: A Dark Bad Boy Romance(46)

Which was why I went into hiding. Not hiding, exactly, but I wasn’t going to sit out in the open anymore. It was a shame, since the weather was gorgeous, but at least the mansion had a lot to do.

I spent the morning exploring. I visited the Turkish bath again, just for a few minutes, and then went on to the bowling alley, the movie theater room, and the kitchens. The staff ignored me, for the most part, and my bodyguard followed me around, but it was nice. Sitting outside with nothing to do felt lonely sometimes, even though the mansion was filled with people.

Eventually I found myself drawn to Carter’s music room. As I approached the door, I looked back at Secret Service Steve, as I had started calling him.

“Stay out here, okay?” I said to him.

He nodded once. Good old Steve.

I went into the music room and shut the door behind me. Looking around, I had a strange feeling inside of me, like I was trespassing or something.

This was Carter’s most personal room. I could see it in everything. He had little notes and papers and books lying around, some of them still unfinished with bookmarks on the inside. It looked like it had been straightened by up a maid, but Carter’s personality was still there.

I began to skim through his record collection again, marveling at the sheer size of it. I wondered how much it all weighed, but got distracted by the music to really do the math. I ended up putting on a Smiths compilation album called Louder than Bombs. I was surprised to see that he had a pretty good Smiths collection, and never would have guessed that he was a fan.

As the jingly-jangly pop music floated through the air, I decided to grab a little glass of wine. I filled it less than half and sat down on the couch, relaxing, letting the music drift around me.

I understood what he saw in that room. It was relaxing to be surrounded by so much music, and although putting on records was a lot harder than just streaming stuff, there was a level of active choice that came alone with it. I had to actually touch the records, look through them, and eventually choose one. I couldn’t just put on a single song, I had to be ready to experience the whole record, or at least one side of it.

I grew up in the age of CDs, so I was used to skipping between songs, but I liked being forced into hearing the whole record. You got a better sense of what it was supposed to be as a cohesive whole. It was interesting how the format of the media affected the way we experienced it. Records couldn’t be skipped around, and so we have to sit down and hear the whole thing, while CDs could be skipped and repeated so easily. They were seamless, whereas the seams were very visible with records.

I realized that I was daydreaming when I heard a knock at the door. I nearly spilled my wine, surprised by the sudden intrusion of sound. I put the glass down on the side table and stood.

“Yes?” I called out.

I expected Secret Service Steve, but instead Carter came in.

“Carter,” I said. “Hey.”

“I was looking for you. I figured you’d be out by the pool.”

“I came in here instead. You don’t need to knock on your own door, you know.”

He shrugged. “Just because I own it, doesn’t mean I can just barge in whenever.”

“Shouldn’t you be at work anyway?”

“I should,” he confirmed. He turned and shut the door behind him, turning the top lock.

“Trying to make sure I can’t get out?” I jokingly said.

His look told me everything I needed to know. I felt my breath catch in my throat as he came toward me.

“I had to come see you,” he said.

“What happened?” I asked.

“Nothing really. I made a decision.”

He stopped inches in front of me and was practically radiating heat. He looked incredible in his suit, like he always did, but for some reason I really noticed him. I saw the way he was immaculately dressed, not a stitch out of place. His eyes were intense and penetrating, his body large and muscular. He easily dwarfed me, making me feel so small. I marveled that such a smart man had such an enormous, muscular body.

“What decision?”

He took my waist, pulling me against him. “About the future.”

“You’re being vague.”

“Good,” he said softly. “I didn’t come here to talk about that.”

“What did you come here for?”

“You know what.”

I felt a shiver run down my spine as excitement pulsed up my core. I knew exactly what he wanted. I knew the moment he walked into the room. I could see it in his eyes.

He kissed me then, deep and hard. I felt the wet pooling between my legs as I fell into his embrace, kissing him back. It felt like years since the last time I felt his touch, although I knew it hadn’t been very long. It was the pool-house, that rushed and intense moment, but this was different. We weren’t rushed, although there was an edge to Carter’s passion.

He steered me toward the record wall and pushed me up against the counter. I slipped up, sitting on it, my back against the shelving holding the records. He peeled my shirt off, tossing it aside, and kissed my neck.

“Fuck, Emily,” he whispered. “I’ve been thinking about this all day. I’ve been f*cking hard for you.”

“You know I can’t get you off my mind.”

“I know.” He kissed me hard again, unbuttoning my jeans. He pulled them off, sliding them under my ass, leaving them wrapped around my ankles as his fingers slowly found my wet *.