Carter Reed 2

“Because until last week, I was no one.”

“That’s hard to believe.”

“Emma.” My name drifted in from the hallway. It came as a caress, and Carter approached me with a gentle smile. He was dressed the same as his friend, in dress pants and a button-down shirt. As he came to me and kissed my cheek, he tugged at his collar, unbuttoning the top two buttons. Lingering for a moment, his lips remained on my cheek, and he whispered, “Are you okay?”

I was suddenly exhausted, so I shook my head. “I don’t know.” I spoke the truth.

He pulled away enough to see my face and narrowed his eyes. His hand came to rest on my arm.

Oh god. What had I just done with those three words? He would push me later, and even if I didn’t say anything, he would know I’d been with Amanda earlier. He would figure it out himself. That’s what he did.

“If I ask you to leave it alone, would you?” I had to try.

He turned from concerned to questioning. “As loving you, my job is to help with whatever’s wrong. I can’t do that.”

My hands curled around my mug. Feeling the weight of his friend’s gaze behind us, I shrugged a shoulder and whispered, “I’ll tell you later. I just…can’t right now.”

He nodded and moved to kiss my lips. Hovering over them, he murmured again, “I’m sorry I didn’t wake you and explain where we are. You shouldn’t have woken in a stranger’s home. That’s my fault.”

He held the side of my face as he gave me the slightest of kisses, enough to make me yearn for an afternoon for just the two of us. I wanted to bury my head in his chest and feel his arms as I had when he’d carried me and held me hours earlier. I wanted to feel only his touch. Nothing else. No outside world interrupting us, leaving me cold and hurt.

“I love you,” I whispered to him.

“I love you.” Then he stepped back, his hand still touching the side of my face for a moment, before falling away. Regret flashed over his features for a split second before it vanished, and he became the Carter who spoke to the guards—or even Noah. This was a different side of him. He’d slipped back into his persona: business-like, professional, and with an air of power clinging to him. He gestured behind him, and his friend came forward. “Emma, this is Cole Mauricio.”

Cole smiled. “Refill?”

My cup was almost empty, so I nodded, handing it over.

As Cole went to refill it, Carter continued, “Cole’s been away for the last few years—”

“I’m back now.”

“—and he’s returned to take over the Mauricio family holdings.” Carter’s tone dropped.

A shiver wound its way up my spine. Carter was trying to tell me something. I shoved all emotion aside and checked back in. “Take over,” he’d said.

Cole returned with my cup. He’d added a touch of creamer and sugar. How he knew I enjoyed it that way, I didn’t want to know, but I said, “Thank you,” as I took it and stirred it a few more times. I kept stirring, mulling over Carter’s words.

Then it hit me.

Cole Mauricio was the head of the family. He had come back. Whatever brought him back was the reason behind Carter’s words, a week ago: “I need to tell you what happened today, because it could affect us.” It was this guy.

“Nice to formally meet you, Emma.” Cole gave me a half-grin.

I saw it then. My gut had told me he was dangerous earlier, and I was right. Even now, he leaned back against the counter, but he leaned the way Carter did at times: his back to the wall, his arms open, always close to a weapon if it’s needed. And his eyes darted to the door—to an exit.

I nodded again to him. “And you. Carter doesn’t introduce me to many people from the Mauricio family.”

“Cole.” Carter stood.

He excused us with that one word, and Cole nodded, giving him a grin. “I’ll be in my office.”

Carter took the coffee from my hand. As Cole went down the hallway, Carter led me back to our bedroom. Once inside, he grasped my face and pulled me to him. An intensity took over, and he backed me to the wall. His lips were on mine, insistent, demanding.

“I need you,” he whispered, his lips commanding. “You were hurting last night. I wasn’t there to stop it.”

But he had. He had in so many ways he’d never know.

I tried to shake my head, to reassure him, but his hand raised my shirt. My body plastered against his as my back arched, keeping my shoulders and hips against the door. I wanted to feel him cup my breasts, tease my nipples, but he opened his mouth to kiss me more deeply. I felt him wanting to claim me, getting as close as possible.

I needed him, too. Right now. Right here. I needed the touch of my man. I needed to feel exposed to him, my soul displayed so we could connect on the deepest level. After last night’s feeling of impending doom, I needed to be reminded who I belonged to and whose soul belonged to me: Carter.

My mind turned off. I would let him do anything he wanted, as long as he was with me, always with me.

He held me, still pressed against the door, and my legs wound around his waist. My hands sank into his hair, and I gasped once for breath, then I kissed him again. I needed him. Opening my mouth, his tongue swept inside. It wasn’t enough. I needed even more. My hand fell to his pants, unbuckling them. He shifted so one of his hands was free and pulled down my pants. At the same time, my hand closed over him. He was hard and ready, and then he was at my entrance. He didn’t hold back. It was rough, hungry, and primal. I gasped, lifting my head for air as I closed my eyes. I wanted to savor this, the feeling of him inside me, but he didn’t let me. He pulled out and went right back in. He continued thrusting, holding me suspended against the door. His hips rolled against mine.