Stinger (A Sign of Love Novel)(16)

God, I was so turned on I was shaking, a steady throb beginning in my core. I nodded jerkily and barely made the key card into the slot. I needed a cold shower if I was going to make it through dinner. I had never felt this level of lust, ever and I didn't know whether I liked it or not. It made me feel out of control, cloudy, desperate. The feeling was scary, unfamiliar. I didn't know what to do with it.

I grabbed some clothes and glanced back at Carson as I went into the bathroom, and he looked cool, calm and collected. He had fallen back on the bed and was flipping through the channels on the television. Meanwhile, I was about to go up in flames from a few whispered words. Just as I was about to shut the door, I spun around and came back out. Carson looked up at me questioningly. I cleared my throat, my mind racing. Should I stop this now? I opened my mouth and then closed it again. "Be out in a few minutes," I finally said.

He looked amused. "Take your time."

I nodded and closed the door behind me. It was already eight thirty and we were both hungry and so I showered quickly and started blowing my hair dry. I remembered Carson asking me to take it down in the elevator and so instead of putting it up like I usually did, I put some mousse in it and blew it partially dry. It fell down my back in long waves. It would dry fully on the way to the restaurant.

I put on a little bit of makeup and spritzed some perfume on. Taking a cue from what Carson was wearing, I had pulled out a pair of dark gray shorts and a loose, black, tunic-type top. It was casual but I still felt like I looked nice for a date. I paused. Was this a date? Or was this just pre-sex dinner between practical strangers? My hormones had simmered down under the cool spray of the shower, but now I was feeling nervous again. Maybe I just needed to stop trying to define things and go with it. God, I was so bad at that. I craved structure and definitions and control. And here I was throwing all of that to the wind. For sex. With a porn star. I put my hands over my mouth to stifle a hysterical giggle as I met my own wide, blue eyes in the mirror in front of me. How was I going to feel after this was all said and done? Was I really going to be able to dismiss this as a weekend romp and easily leave it behind? I mean, technically, it was my plan. Only, this wasn't anywhere near how I pictured it going down. Was I capable of this? My decision in my room had been too quick. I needed time to make a pro and con list. I needed a few minutes to– A knock came at the bathroom door. "You in there talking yourself out of this, Buttercup?" Carson asked. I could hear the smile in his voice.

I pulled the bathroom door open and was met with Carson's beautiful face looking back at me. He was smiling, and before I knew it, he had taken my face in his hands and was kissing my lips in a way that distracted me from all my bathroom musings. It was what I needed. It was what I was here for, right? Maybe I needed the reminder. This didn't have to be complicated. I relaxed a little bit.

He leaned back and raised one eyebrow. I laughed a small laugh and shook my head at him, remembering that he had asked me a question. "No, let's go."





CHAPTER 5


Carson



I grabbed Grace's hand as we walked out of the hotel. She looked over at me with a surprised expression on her face but didn't pull away. I was having a hard time looking away from her legs in those shorts and heels. From what I could tell, Grace's body was exceptional everywhere, but those legs… Christ, I never knew what a leg man I was until I got a glimpse of hers.

I took a quick glance over at her face and she still looked tense. I realized that I felt a little nervous too, but mine was with anticipation, not worry. She looked worried. That brain of hers was still working on this a mile a minute. I had known that that was what she was doing in the bathroom too by the way all the sounds stopped, and there was silence coming from the other side of the door. In my mind's eye, I could see her standing there talking herself out of this weekend and I felt a bolt of fear slide down my spine. I had her where I wanted her to be–I'd be damned if I was going to let her walk away. Not yet anyway.

Her feet slowed down a little bit as her eyes darted around nervously. "Carson, I–" But I didn't let her finish that thought. I knew she was trying to back out again.

I pulled her hand, leading her to the wall of the lobby, rather than toward the doors where we had been heading.

"Come here a minute," I said, stopping and turning to face her fully. She looked up at me expectantly, waiting for me to explain what I was doing. I took hold of both her hands and started, "Grace, this is different for me too." I looked into her eyes, hoping she'd understand what I was saying. "I know you're still questioning this and I don't want you to. If you want to leave, I won't stop you. But I really hope you'll stay, and I really hope you'll let yourself enjoy our time together. Because the simple fact is that, for me, two hours wasn't nearly enough. Tell me it wasn't enough for you either."

She searched my face for several moments, apparently finding something that relaxed her because she squeezed my hands and finally smiled up at me. "Not nearly enough," she said quietly.

I exhaled and smiled down at her. "Okay, good. Can we focus on that then?"

She nodded, still gazing up at me. "It's just… things seemed to change so quickly between us. I hated you and now I'm spending the weekend with you." She laughed quietly. "I'm having a hard time catching up with myself."