Blasphemous (Torn #3)(49)
I gave him a look, as if mishearing him.
“As long as I get to be the only man to kiss you,” he then added in a husky tone that made me think of the other places he wanted to kiss.
Trista blatantly started clearing her throat loud enough for the entire area to hear. “I’m taking it that you’re going to outbid anyone at the auction?” Trista inquired, her tone was back to business.
“That’s already a given, Tris.”
A sweet smile plastered on her face. “How about we make a deal, Mason. You get to have your prize this very second, if you promise to write a check ten times the amount of the winning bid.”
Devious… she was making me her bait to raise more money. Smart, but f*uking devious.
“Sold.” Carter then focused on me, holding me close. “And as for my prize, I want you in my bedroom, away from all these men checking you out.”
Bedroom? Yes, please. I was more than ready to be kissed all night long. I may be in my alcohol-induced self, but I wanted to be wanted tonight. Especially after being humiliated earlier with that stupid photo. TLC was in order.
“Eww… Carter.” Lindsey made a disgusted sound before her brother led me out of there and up towards his bedroom.
The second the door was shut, Carter roughly threw me on his bed, got on top of me as he splayed my legs open, nestled directly against my mound before he made a sexy growl and ravished my lips.
“I knew you’d come back. I just knew,” he whispered in between kisses before cupping my latex-clad butt cheek as he rubbed his hardened length against my core.
“Carter—”
“I know… no sex, just foreplay, but with no penetration until you give me the green light. I’m okay with that, Em, as long as you promise that no guy gets to touch you.”
“Are you sure? I mean, I don’t want you to think that I’m using you because, let’s face it, I sort of am. Besides, I don’t want you to think that this will be a surefire approach to getting me back as your girlfriend. I don’t want anything holding me down. I just don’t want complications, that’s all.”
“Emma, I know all of this already, but thank you for giving me a warning anyway. Let’s face it, baby, I’m already yours. If this is the direction you’re heading, then I will support you as long as you promise to tell me the moment you let another man kiss you. Deal?”
“Will you be seeing other women? Like Amanda and Cece with ménages on the side?”
The moment I mentioned their names, he tensed up, still I felt his heartbeat against my breasts.
“I’m sorry, Emma. I’ve been paying every single day for cheating on you. No, there won’t be any woman on the side, front, or back; there will only be you.”
I don’t like sharing and I knew we weren’t exclusive, but I’d appreciate the same courtesy as he requested himself of me.
Smiling, I wrapped my legs around his backside. “Okay… so we’re…”
“Cruising, Emma.” He licked my earlobe, rolling his hips simultaneously. “Gliding slowly, gently; calmly cruising. Until you find your way back to me.”
For a month, I sort of avoided him. Now that he knew the score with me, knew where I stood, then I was okay with this semi-friends with semi-benefits relationship.
Cruising, I liked that.
Chapter 19
February
Dallas, Texas
“One thing you can’t hide—is when you’re crippled inside.”
- John Lennon
Bass
It was the fifth night out on location. I was still drumming from my memories of Greece. It’s been five months, two weeks, three days and twelve hours since I last saw her.
Not a day passed that I woke up and thought of her. She was always there—smiling, laughing and waiting—calling out to me to come back.
Memories were all I had left.
The urge to buy that island was so prevalent on my mind as the days passed. That place held something special for me and I wanted to keep it, even if she wasn’t a part of my life anymore.
I spent Christmas with Trista’s family and Taylor in my cabin in Interlaken. Whenever Trista mentioned her, I pretended that I wasn’t interested to hear them.
But one night, curiosity won me over as I shared a drink with Taylor, catching up as we did so.
I swirled my cognac as I watched the flames in the fireplace dance before my very eyes. “How is Emma?” I distractedly asked, trying not to sound desperate. From the Halloween picture Trista sent, she looked—I think she simply looked like—home. I didn’t know how many hours I spent staring at that picture collage Trista sent, getting drunk with it, sometimes even talking to it as if it was really her in front of me. Deep down, I knew, I had lost it then.
Taylor eyed me for a moment, knowing it was the first time I had said her name after that day we broke up. “She’s great. She got offered a small part in the new film that stars Chris Mallory. She’s supposed to be his ex, or something along those lines.”
I was pleased that Barbara followed through with my request to put Emma in another film. She needed exposure. Even though that provocative (too provocative that it made me almost fire Barbara for going overboard) GQ shoot provided enough, she still needed more solid acting chops to back her up. A small part here and there would give her credibility. Add in her main role in Blasphemous, I had no doubt in my mind that she was going to be high on demand—after Blasphemous was out in theatres. She had a few more months to go. It was enough time to build her portfolio and I ordered Barbara a week after we broke up to make sure this was going to happen.