Stacking the Deck (A Betting on Romance Novel Book 2)(64)

Carter smiled, too, even though she couldn’t see him, and closed the door.

He almost said hi, just to put her at ease and let her know he was there, but the sudden alertness in her posture told him she already knew. Her smile faded.

Now what?

He realized he was shaking, an aftershock from his run-in with Dan, no doubt, but it left him feeling oddly nervous, something he wasn’t used to feeling around a girl. He took a step closer and reached out to touch her hand so she’d know where he was.

She jerked then gave a soft, nervous laugh. “Sorry,” she whispered, although it sounded louder in the small room. “You surprised me.”

Her lips formed a half smile under the blindfold and Carter found himself staring at them. They were a soft pink color. He’d never noticed before how sexy they were. How wide and full and tempting. He found himself looking forward to a taste.

He took another step closer, and her tongue darted out as his toe knocked against hers. She laughed a little and he took the opportunity to steady himself by resting his hands on her elbows.

He didn’t let go.

He just needed to kiss her. It shouldn’t be hard. Hell, he’d made out with girls for a hell of a lot longer than seven minutes, and at this point, he didn’t think anyone was counting. But, if he didn’t make an effort, didn’t make it last a little while, Beth would be crushed thinking she’d somehow disappointed.

No. No matter how bad she was at this, he had to at least give her five minutes before he quit. He owed her that much.

Her chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, and he slid a hand up her shoulder, instinctively trying to soothe her, and cupped her nape. His fingers flexed, discovering the soft, silky skin there, and he ran his fingers lightly up and down her nape again, enjoying the feel of it.

She leaned into his hand, a soft gasp escaping her and he took that moment to lean forward and press his lips to hers.

She went rigid for one surprised second, and then softened underneath him, a faint smile forming against his mouth for a brief moment before she leaned more firmly into him, seeking. Trusting. Melting.

He lost himself in that kiss. Lost himself for long, drugging, blood-thrumming moments as Beth Beacon came alive in his arms, a warm, rich heat seeping into him as her hand found the back of his head, her fingers lightly resting there as they shared sweet, lazy kisses, one after another after another.

He eased closer, less of a premeditated move than a desire for more.

His tongue snaked out lightly at first, testing, teasing. She pulled away slightly, but then she began to explore on her own, tentatively then more boldly.

Dipping further.

He pulled her against him then, and her hand sank deeper into his hair, as the kiss grew hotter, intensified.

Her breathing was quick and light now, her kisses like heaven, and he didn’t even know he was doing it as his hand slid down her back to cup her and hold her soft, feminine curves against him.

She went still, and he realized where his hand was.

What he’d been thinking.

He let out a shaky breath against her lips. He throbbed in ways he knew he couldn’t satisfy, and if he didn’t somehow find a way to pull himself back, he’d be giving Beth the very education he’d tried to spare her.

Still kissing her deeply, fully, earnestly, he reached up and grasped her hands in his and pulled them down to her sides. Then he cupped her face and slowly, slowly pulled away.

She moaned softly—a protest—and he bent to lay one last kiss on her still-parted, upturned lips.

Their breaths were shallow, the air thick with desire. Inexplicably, impossibly, Beth smiled.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He nodded, even though she couldn’t see him, and rested his index finger against her well-kissed lips. They puckered briefly, full and moist, pressing a kiss to his skin, before she stepped away, folding her hands together again as they’d been when he’d first entered.

She didn’t say another word, only stood there, her breath light, her lips forming a half, knowing smile as he stepped out and closed the door behind him.





CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

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LIZ SLUMPED INTO A tarp-draped kitchen chair, her arms already weary from working muscles seldom used. With the priming nearly complete, she could start the finish coat by dinnertime. She could be done with the kitchen and back on schedule by Monday night.

It felt good to make so much progress. And, it was fun.

Because of Carter.

Liz turned and smiled despite her fatigue. He had his back to her, his cargo shorts and T-shirt splattered with white primer, his muscles flexing in his arms as he stroked the roller over the ceiling in time to the rock music he’d insisted on blaring.

“I’ve decided to go for it!” he said over the din.

“What?” she yelled back.

“The fountain project,” he said, pausing to turn down the radio. “I’m going to bid on it.”

“I think you should.”

He nodded as he set his roller in the tray next to her brush. “You know what this means, don’t you?” He cocked a grin at her. “It means I’m finally growing up.”

“You’ve been grown up for a while.”

He helped himself to a soda. “My uncle wants me to take over the business.”

“He— Carter, that’s wonderful!”