Chapter Three
Carter
I got to the bar early, sat at a stool where the lighting was dim, nursed a drink and watched Emma. She met up with Tori promptly at seven—her punctuality was borderline OCD—and had a drink. Only one, which had kept me relaxed.
They talked and scoped out the room, no doubt debating the man choices for Emma. I was content to sit and stare at her blatant curves, the bright slash of red on her full lips, the way her pale hair fell in ringlets on her neck. But when the ladies moved to the dance floor and random men joined them, I wasn't so patient. Tori looked great, as usual, her body hugged in a tight white dress that highlighted every curve. Her hair was a dark auburn, and next to Emma’s pale blond hair and tight black dress, they were toting some dangerous curves. And I wasn’t the only man in the room who noticed.
It was after the third song that Tori went to the restroom, leaving Emma alone. One guy had danced two songs with her, shifting and swaying with her to the steady beat. He hadn't touched her. Yet. All the men were watching her in that form fitting black dress, some I recognized from the office. With the V-neck, her breasts were on display. Grudgingly, I had to admit that she was dressed tastefully. Emma wasn’t a whore, she was classy. But it was the most of her cleavage I'd ever seen.
That view was for me, not every horny asshole in the bar. When the guy moved behind her, placed his hands on her hips and started to grind against her ass, I was done biding my time.
There was only one thing on that guy's mind. Her pussy. And that pussy belonged to me.
I tossed some money on the bar and walked over to the dance floor. Emma's eyes were closed and she moved to the music as if she had an internal beat. When I stepped close, the guy looked my way. I angled my head, telling him, without words, to get lost.
Perhaps it was because I was right in his face. Perhaps it was the look I gave him, but he let go of Emma's hips, held up his hands to show me they were off her, and stepped away.
The man had a good instinct for self-preservation because he'd gotten his dick as close to Emma as it was ever going to get.
Settling in behind her, I put my hands on her for the second time. I was glad the music was loud because it hid the groan I couldn't hold in. She was so warm, her body so soft and lush. I stepped up close and moved against her, my cock pressing against the soft swell of her ass. Leaning in, I breathed in her scent at the side of her neck. When she angled her head to give me better access, I kissed her sweaty skin and licked the taste of her from my lips.
The scent of lemongrass and sugar drifted up from her still damp hair, but her neck tasted salty and sweet and I wondered if her pussy would be the same. My mouth watered to find out, but not here. Not now.
Now I reveled in holding her, to feel her writhing, completely uninhibited, against me. I saw Tori approach, watched her brown eyes widen in surprise at the sight of me dancing with Emma in my arms. The woman wasn't going to keep me from my Emma. She wasn't going to interfere with me getting what I wanted. Fuck no. Because Emma was already mine. From the way Tori smiled at me, she knew. When she angled her head toward the entrance, I nodded in reply. She was leaving and knew I was the one who was going to keep Emma safe tonight. Yes, the woman was a genius and she was getting a fucking raise.
When the song ended, Emma spun around, put her hands on my chest. When she looked up at me through her long lashes, saw who'd been dancing with her, she froze. Her hands came off my chest as if I'd burned her, but I grabbed her wrists, pressed her hands back where they belonged.
“Carter,” she breathed, and the sound of my name on her lips made my balls ache. She’d never said my name before, and suddenly I wanted to hear it over and over, preferably as she begged me to stretch her open on my hard cock. Her eyes were wide as she licked her lips. I doubted she knew what that little gesture did to me. “I’m sorry. I mean, Mr. Buchanan. What are you doing here?”
“Dancing with you.” I smiled then, but it only made her more nervous.
“I don't think… I mean, we shouldn't.”
“Dance?”
She nodded, looked around. The crowd swirled around us, unaware of the electricity arcing between us.
“All right, Emma. We don't have to dance.”
Releasing one of her hands, I tugged her along behind me toward a VIP room they kept open for their top tier clients, like the Buchanan brothers.
“Wait!” she cried, all but digging her fuck-me heels into the hardwood dance floor.
I looked back at her, took in her wide, wild eyes, the frantic breathing that only made her breasts press invitingly against her dress.
“Where are you taking me? I need to find Tori.”
I stepped close, tucked a stray curl behind her ear, watched as she licked her lips. I stifled a groan.
“Tori is a big girl. I’m sure she can take care of herself.”
“But… but where are we going?”
“Somewhere private,” I replied.
“But… you can't. I mean, I shouldn't. I need to—”
She bit her lip when I stopped moving. I pulled her out of the way of the constant flow of bodies to and from the bar and cupped her jaw. I placed my thumb on top of that lip, right over her dented flesh and tugged it free from her teeth. The lingering wetness there nearly made me groan. Fuck, I wanted to taste that. Now. Right fucking now.
But she was already running scared. I had to tone it down a notch, or my sweet little virgin was going to bolt like a gazelle running from a lion.
“Need to what?” I asked, watching as my thumb stroked over her plump lower lip, spread that bit of wetness all over her mouth. “Get laid? Get rid of your V-card?”
Even in the dark club I could see a flush creep up her cheeks. She looked away.
“Let me go,” she countered, lifting her chin in a stubborn gesture. Anger made her pale eyes a stormy sea blue. I had never seen her riled like this before; she was always so pleasant and controlled, as a professional in the office should be. But now…
Instead of releasing her, I bent down and kissed the corner of her mouth, lingered to make sure she could smell the cologne I’d put on this morning and feel the heat of my body pressed close. “You want to get laid, Emma, I'm right here.”
Her eyes widened, her mouth fell open at my meaning.
“How did you—”
“You want to break open that pussy of yours, get rid of your virginity? My cock's big enough for the job.”
Those luscious pink lips fell open, closed. Her eyes widened in shock, but I saw desire there as well. Curiosity. She was interested. And panicked.
I didn’t stop her when she ran for the ladies’ room. She needed space, and I’d give her a little.
Following her, I watched and waited as at least half a dozen women entered, stayed inside for a few minutes, and reappeared.
My Emma was hiding from me. She thought the little picture of a lady in a skirt on the door would prevent her having to deal with me.
Well, I wasn’t leaving so she could flirt with some random asshole and let another man take her home. She wanted me. I’d seen it in her eyes. Which meant it was time to seduce my little virgin into admitting it. Even if it was in the ladies’ room.
* * *
Emma
I paced the restroom. Four stalls with dark rose doors, two white sinks with pink soap and fake orchids in a small green vase next to the hand towels. The music was muted, but the bass made even the floor vibrate. I glanced in the mirror and shook my head. I’d left my apartment tonight full of confidence.
Standing up straight, I smoothed my hands over my hips. The dress hugged every curve like a second skin. I wasn’t super thin, but I had a woman’s body, rounded hips and full breasts. I was more Marilyn Monroe than supermodel, but the men in the bar didn’t seem to mind.
I’d come here to find a stranger who didn’t know I was a virgin, to take him home and get it over with. I’d stupidly believed I could get some random guy to have sex with me and never even tell him I was a virgin.
But now, everything was a mess. Carter was here. Carter Buchanan. And he knew. God, he knew I’d never been with a man, and he wanted me anyway.
Offering myself to a stranger seemed so much easier than sleeping with Carter. And that was just fucked up in the extreme.
A few ladies came in, took care of business and left me alone. Their sympathetic looks just made me feel worse. Was my stress that obvious? Of course. I’d seen more than one freaked out woman hiding in the restroom in my day.
The door opened again and I ignored the sound until I heard the deadbolt click, locking me inside.
I whirled to find Carter, his shoulder leaning against the door. So casual, so at ease. “You going to hide from me all night?”
“What?” I backed up, so turned on I could barely breathe. He was in the ladies’ room. With me. And he'd locked the door. “I wasn’t hiding.”
He smiled and walked toward me. I stopped moving when my back ran into one of the paper towel dispensers on the wall.
“If you weren’t hiding, then what were you doing in here?”
“Thinking.”
“Thinking about kissing me?” He raised a dark brow and stepped close. Lifting his arms, he caged me in, his face inches from mine, a hint of five o’clock shadow making his normal dark, sexy look even more intense. I wanted to taste him, run my lips along his jaw and feel that hint of beard rub my sensitive lips.
I licked my lips. Kissing? Yes. And more. So much more. “Yes.”
Oddly, being in a public restroom made me bold. It wasn’t like Carter was going to throw me down on the tile and rut into me. That wasn’t his style. And so, I told him the truth. Admitted that I wanted him. What did I have to lose? At this point, it wasn’t like I could lose my job, since I'd already given notice. I would no longer be an employee of Buchanan Industries in five work days. Five more days in the same building with Carter.
He lowered his lips and I closed my eyes, waiting. Waiting.
The kiss never came and I opened my eyes to find him staring, watching me with rapt attention. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Emma.”
Carter crushed his lips to mine—finally—and I opened for him, for his thrusting tongue and complete domination. My body sang under his touch, as if I’d waited a lifetime for just this one kiss.
His body pressed forward, his hard erection pushing into my stomach. But I didn’t want him there, I needed him lower.
Feeling bold, I wrapped my arms around his head and kissed him with a year of pent up desire. I lifted my left leg and wrapped it around his hip, trying to get his hard cock where I needed it, rubbing my clit.
With a groan, he lowered a hand to my leg and traced his way up my thigh. I’d put on the thigh high stockings with a brand new garter belt I’d bought, just for tonight. For the stranger I'd planned to seduce. But now, I was thrilled to know I'd put them on for Carter.
When his fingers found the edge of the stockings, brushed over the taut clips of the garter, he pulled back, arched a brow. “What's this?” he asked.
I couldn't answer.
“Show me.”
My mouth fell open but no words came out.
“Show me,” he repeated. “Lift your skirt and show me the sexy, naughty things you're wearing.”
It was the heat in his eyes, a look I'd never seen before, that had me doing as he'd asked. Slowly I lifted the hem of my skirt. At first, his brown eyes held my gaze like a magnet, then dropped to watch as more of my thighs were revealed. I could feel the air on my bare skin above the stockings and he groaned as my garter was revealed. He kissed me before my skirt lifted enough for him to see my matching panties. It seemed just the stockings and garter was enough. Too much.
It made me feel feminine and very powerful.
His kiss intensified as he pushed me back against the wall, his hand roaming the back of my ass, dipping lower to touch my pussy from behind.
It was my turn to whimper with need when his fingers discovered the tiny scrap of material that passed for g-string underwear beneath my skirt. Impatient, he shoved the material aside with deft fingers and explored my wet folds.
“Emma.”
“Carter.”
“You're dripping. Is this all for me?” He rubbed his fingers through my slick folds, over my clit. Back and forth, not entering me.
Of course I was wet for him. No one else had ever made me like this.
“Let me make you feel good.”
I couldn’t talk, not with his fingers so close to where I needed him to be.
“Emma?”
“Carter.” I sighed into his mouth and claimed a kiss of my own as I shifted my hips back and forth, riding his fingers. I wanted this. Needed it. I didn’t care if it was foolish and reckless. I was more than ready to break my own rules tonight. Wild, sexy women didn’t have rules. And Carter made me feel like I was both.
Then his hand was gone.
“No.” I was so needy, so wound up, I would literally break into tears if he left me now.
“Shhh, Emma. I’ve got you.”
I sighed as his touch returned, this time running up the inside of my thigh from the front. I lowered my leg to the floor, my feet wide to give him access to my wet core.
“Look at me,” he ordered and I opened my eyes to comply. His gaze locked onto mine as he gently filled me with one finger. I held on, gripping his rock hard biceps, keeping my eyes on his gorgeous face until he pushed the thickness of his hard palm to my clit and started fucking me with his hand.
I thought I couldn’t get any hotter, and more desperate, but his free hand lifted to my breast, squeezed the hard nipple through the thin material of my dress and lace bra.
When I gasped, he lowered his head once more, kissing me as his finger moved inside me.
Someone knocked on the bathroom door and I stiffened, but Carter squeezed my nipple again and nipped at my lip. He pulled away, staring down at me as he used more force to fuck me, nearly lifting me off my feet. “You’re mine right now. Ignore them.”
As if to prove his point, he increased the speed of his moving fingers, the rhythm of his palm rubbing my clit. Closing my eyes, I tilted my head up for his kiss. I didn’t want to think about the fact that I was in a bar, in the damn bathroom. I only wanted to think about Carter, about his hands, his mouth, his dominant touch.
He rubbed and fucked me with fingers and tongue until I felt completely overwhelmed, as if he was already inside me.
Hard. Fast. Stop.
Slow. Fast. Stop.
His touch drove me mad, until I whimpered and begged. “Carter, please.”
“Do you want to come?”
“Yes.”
“You’re mine, Emma. Say you’re mine.”
“Yes.” I would have agreed to anything. I was so close. The orgasm building inside me like a tornado caught inside a paper house. I wasn’t going to be able to hold on.
Carter shifted again, his body pressed to mine, his arm trapped between us. His forehead met mine, but I did not open my eyes. I didn’t want to know if he was watching me. I didn’t care.
“Then come for me. I want to watch you give everything to me.”
He increased his rhythm, but this time, he didn’t stop, didn’t slow when I whimpered, when the desire built to a fever pitch. This time, he pushed me over and stole my cry, swallowed it down in his kiss as my pussy pulsed around his finger. This was nothing like my vibrator. Nothing.
His soft groan made me feel sexy, edgy, dangerous. And I knew, if we’d been truly alone, I would have let him do anything he wanted. I would spread my legs and beg him to take my virginity, to make me his.
That last thought was like a splash of ice-cold water. As was the insistent knocking at the door. “Hello? Are you all right in there?”
“Someone get the manager. They have to have a key.”
“I really need to go. I hope they hurry up.”
“Just use the men’s room.”
The voices were all feminine, and impatient. I knew they’d have the door unlocked soon, and here I stood, with Carter’s hand up my skirt and my juices all over his fingers. He lifted them to his mouth and licked them. He held my gaze as he tasted me and suddenly I couldn’t get the image of his mouth on me out of my head. Oh God.
What the hell was I thinking?