The Saint Page 13

  He pursed his lips as if weighing his answer. “Yeah, I guess. In a way. I think going into law and politics was my way of rebelling. As ridiculous as that sounds.”

  “It doesn’t sound ridiculous at all.”

  “My brother is, or was actually, a big deal poker player, before he married a cop. My sister married the son of a gem thief who used to work with my father—”

  “And you want to do good.”

  “Right, it does sound ridiculous.”

  “It doesn’t,” I breathed. He didn’t look at me and I could see his discomfort, the tension in his muscles.

  “I don’t actually know if I would be a good mayor,” he said.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, stunned to see such doubt in him.

  He glanced at me askance. “Come on, you saw me at Jimmie Simpson. Those women hated me and I couldn’t…” He sighed. “I couldn’t win them over.”

  I licked my lips, wondering if I was about to overstep some boundary, but he’d made fun of my baby’s name, so fair was fair.

  “First of all,” I said. “Those women are tough and no one has an easy time winning them over. I’ve gone up against Tootie Vogler in the past and she made mincemeat out of me.”

  He turned to face me fully, a smile playing about his lips. “But?”

  “But you were being patronizing,” I said, and winced, waiting for him to snap.

  He simply stared at me.

  “You mad?”

  “No,” he said. “I think you’re right. I think…” His eyes roved over my face and I was suddenly spellbound. Breathless. “You’re amazing,” he whispered.

  I cupped his face in my hands, his skin warm against my flesh, the beginning of a beard rough in my palms. I wished I could hold all of him this way, every wounded and taut inch of him.

  “I think, despite your family, you’re a good man.”

  “If you knew—” He shook his head.

  “If I knew what?”

  He stared into my eyes and I couldn’t breathe. My heart hammered in my chest. His fingers touched my cheek, the glittery barrette in my hair. “I think maybe I’ve said enough tonight,” he said. “What is it about you, Zoe? You make a mess of me.”

  As compliments went, it was a pretty mixed message, but I understood what he was saying and my heart swelled.

  “It’s late,” he whispered.

  “It is,” I agreed, not moving. I couldn’t have, not for the life of me. He’d said we were in this together, and the look in his eyes when he’d said it had made me believe him.

  It might be a mistake, but I wasn’t going home. Not alone. Not after this night.

  I shifted my weight onto my toes and I tilted, swayed right against his chest.

  “Take me to your house,” I whispered, hoping that was all I would have to say.

  He groaned as the fireworks exploded between our bodies. My skin transmitted the slick cool feel of his tux to the rest of my body.

  “You sure, Zoe? I don’t want to rush—”

  “I do,” I said. “I really want to rush into this.”

  We turned, his arm a mantle around my shoulders as we stepped to the curb where he got a cab in record time.

  He was a magician, I thought, and couldn’t wait until he got those magic hands on me.

  After opening the taxi door, he bent to me and helped me into the backseat. I felt every inch of his body against mine and the hormones roared to life and every cell in my being wanted Carter.

  Craved Carter.

  “Perkins Road,” he said to the cabbie.

  The door slammed shut behind him and the car took off into the night.

  Holy Crap. I’m really doing this. I am going to have sex with Carter.

  “I had no idea you lived there,” I babbled, nerves making a fool of me. I was going to get naked in front of a lover for the first time in a very, very long time and I no longer had my dancer’s body. “Is that a house? Or a condo? I’ve seen the condos around there. Very nice—”

  His fingertips brushed my cheek, and I lost all my breath, just deflated against the cracked plastic seat beneath me.

  “You’re beautiful when you’re nervous,” he whispered, his words like sparks against my skin.

  Our eyes caught and held and the fire between us exploded into flames.

  His thumb pressed down on my lower lip, touching my tongue, and I licked his thumb into my mouth.

  “Zoe,” he whispered, his fingers cradling my cheek, and the heat between my legs grew damp.

  I bit the pad of his thumb, licked it in apology, and his lips parted and drew a ragged breath.

  Power, I thought. I have such power. It had been a long time since I’d been drunk, but this was so much better than that.

  In this together, he’d said, and I didn’t doubt it. Right now, the whole world could go up in flames and we wouldn’t notice. Wouldn’t care.

  All that mattered was this man’s touch, his fingers and the pulse of my flesh.

  “Ah…we’re here?” the cabbie said and I jerked away, but Carter gripped my hand, keeping me present and with him. The world didn’t matter, his touch said. They can think what they want. He tossed the cabbie a couple of bills and pulled me out of the cab.

  We stepped out onto the curb, and I barely had a chance to take in the handsome condo complex, one of the new developments on Perkins Road. All windows and brick. No plants or flowers. Not a curtain in a window.

  So like him. Unreadable, sort of. Closed off. Handsome, but cold.

  Don’t care, I reminded myself. Don’t start counting all the ways this man could hurt you.

  “Zoe?” he said, “are you—”

  I kissed him, throwing myself against the strength of his body. My hands wove into his hair and gripped it in my fists.

  He moaned and pulled me as close as he could, as if he were trying to tuck me into his skin. His arms, so wide and big, felt like bands across my back. And his lips. His lips were delicious. Salty and sweet. Better than salsa and ginger cookies. Better even, than Frayley’s beignets.

  His hands gripped the silk of the dress, and as his lips parted the kiss started to spin someplace dark. Exciting.

  His tongue licked me, his lips sucked at me and the heat that had cooled with my doubts exploded inside me all over again, sharp and painful. A brutal awareness of my skin, of every pleasure center, clamored to be dealt with.

  I wanted to do filthy things with this man. Gorge myself on sex and Carter.

  “Hey,” I whispered. “I…um…can you?”

  “Can I what?”

  “It’s the hormones,” I said, like it was a warning.

  “You want to roll me in caramel sauce?”

  Oh, that sounded good. That sounded so good.

  “Just spill it, Zoe.”

  “Can you be…kinky?”

  His smile split open the night. “Try me,” he whispered, and swung me into his arms.

  12

  CARTER

  * * *

  I was nervous. Like a virgin. I wished I could blame it on the pregnancy – having never had sex with a pregnant woman before and not wanting to hurt her - but I knew, deep down, I was nervous because this was Zoe. Zoe in my arms, Zoe in my bed. In my house.

  I hadn’t done this in a long time, brought a woman home. It had grown too personal and I couldn’t concentrate wondering what they were seeing when they looked at my things.

  But not Zoe. Zoe had already seen so much of me. What would looking at some art, or my dirty kitchen, possibly change?

  I set Zoe down and unlocked the door, pushed it open and then closed it behind us. It was dark in my house, warm, and it felt like the night was a part of us. I could feel her in the air, as if she were electricity.

  And maybe she was.

  Kinky.

  Was she kidding? Could she be any more beautiful? More exciting?

  Zoe stepped into a bright square of light that fell in from the bank of windows in my living room. Her skin gl
owed pale and perfect, as if she were made of moonlight.

  She smiled, shy, but knowing her beauty. Christ. I wanted to eat her. I wanted to lay her down on the floor and spread her out.

  “Take off your dress,” I said.

  “Here?”

  I nodded.

  Something about the command in my voice killed the hesitancy in her face. Her hands found the zipper under her arm and pulled it down, inch by tantalizing inch.

  She was Marilyn Monroe. Hell, she was Eve. She was everything beguiling and gorgeous and feminine.

  The dress dipped at her chest and she clasped it to her, hiding her naked body from my eyes and making me want to roar and pull it off her.

  “Take off your coat,” she whispered, licking her lips.

  Mindless, I ripped off my jacket and tore open my shirt, sending buttons flying into the shadows. One hit my TV.

  I stepped toward her and she retreated. She gave me a smile, a flash of flesh, and adrenaline spiked my blood.

  “Your dress, Zoe,” I nearly growled.

  She shook her head, stepping backward into the dark and then into another square of light. She kicked off her shoes and I toed off mine. Again, she stepped backward out of the light, her eyes glowing in the dark. I took a deep breath and stepped into the light she’d left, and I knew she could see every line of my body. Every thought and emotion on my face. I was more than naked. Worse than naked.

  I was revealed.

  And totally turned on.

  I lowered my hands to my belt, opened the leather and metal clasp.

  “Is this what you want?” I asked. “A show?”

  I could feel her desire pulsing through the air. Her hand, white and elegant, reached out of the darkness and touched my fly, the hard ridge of my erection beneath the fabric. Her fingers stroked me; her palm flattened and pressed hard against me. “This is what I want,” she whispered.

  I tilted my head back and dropped my hands, surrendering to everything—the moment, Zoe.

  Yes, I thought, yes, please yes. Touch me.

  Her warm hands made quick work of the zipper, and I felt my pants bag at the waist, fall to my knees, and I kicked out of them. I glanced down at her hands, easing into the band of my underwear and then…oh.

  “Zoe,” I groaned, grabbing her wrist, probably too hard, but I didn’t care. Couldn’t stop himself. Her fingers toyed with the thick head of my cock, feathered down the shaft.

  I was going to die. Right now.

  I pulled on her wrist, bringing her into the light where she stood, gasping. And naked.

  Her breasts were pink and perfect, the nipples hard in the bright light. Her skin stretched like ivory velvet over sleek muscles, but the best part was the thin wisp of lace I could barely see because of the gorgeous mound of her belly.

  “Look at you,” I breathed, and she pulled her hands free to put them on her belly.

  “I know,” she whispered, her voice broken and soft. “It’s strange, right? This is—”

  “You’re gorgeous,” I said. Not even realizing what I was doing I dropped to my knees, face to navel with her belly. I kissed her skin, stroked the contours of her stomach. Maybe it would be strange to other men, but I found her impossibly sexy. The most womanly thing I’d ever been privileged to touch.

  “Oh.” She sighed. “Oh, wow.”

  I could smell her desire and I smiled wickedly against her skin. Sliding my hands up her legs, I found the edges of the thong, the lace damp under my fingers. She jolted. Twitched.

  Her fingers slid into my hair, pulling a little, and the violence fed my desire. I pressed my face to the thin lace, felt the curls against my lips. My fingers teased their way inside the lace and she began to shake, to quiver and moan, and I smiled with sudden secret knowledge.

  Zoe Madison was hot. She was wet. And she was going to fall apart in my arms like no other woman I’d ever known.

  Rough now, because I was losing all control, I pulled the lace from her body and my lips found the hard edge of her clit, my fingers the deep damp well of her pussy, and within moments I brought Zoe to her knees. She fell against me, strong and soft at the same time. Fierce and trembling.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  “Please what?”

  She bit the skin of my arm, hard enough to hurt and I stopped what I was doing with my fingers.

  “Carter!”

  “Tell me what you want,” I said.

  She pushed her face against my chest, like she was shy but I knew better and kissed her forehead. “Tell me.”

  “Make me come,” she breathed.

  “Good girl,” I whispered and did as she asked. And she shattered, so sweet in my arms.

  * * *

  ZOE

  * * *

  “More,” I whispered, once I could speak again. I was straddling his lap, the hard press of his cock against my belly. It was as if the orgasm had only increased my appetite, and now I shook for the man.

  I kissed his damp lips, tasted myself on him and felt the fires burn hotter. “I want more,” I breathed against his lips, my fingers gripping his erection. I licked my thumb, my eyes locked on his, and circled the head of his cock.

  I loved his control right now, the edge of his jaw, the burn of his eyes. Oh, that control was really the sexiest thing about him, because I knew what was on the other side of it.

  A man unleashed.

  And I really, really wanted him unleashed. That would be great; it would be totally fantastic. I just had to get him there.

  His fingers slid back between my legs. “I’ll give you more,” he breathed. “I’ll give you as much as you can take.”

  I wiggled away from his hands, sliding off his legs.

  He was gorgeous in this light. All hard smooth muscles. I licked his nipple and he groaned, his fingers fisting in my hair.

  Oh, I thought, I like that. To get more of it, I sucked on his nipple, bit gently with my teeth until he swore and arched against me.

  Yes, I thought.

  A man unleashed. We’re getting there.

  I leaned back and looked up into his shuttered, smoldering eyes. He was still trying so hard to keep his control, but I was just going to have to try harder to break it.

  Resting my weight on one arm behind me, I spread my legs, and his eyes blazed, drawn like a magnet to the damp curls he’d explored oh so thoroughly.

  What to do? I thought, delighted and burning, feverish with this need to pull him apart. I touched my own breast, squeezing the nipple, and he groaned, his hands in fists at his side.

  “Get up on your knees,” I whispered.

  He quirked his eyebrow, but didn’t do it.

  “Please,” I whispered. He smiled but still didn’t do it, watching my hand as my fingers toyed with my nipple.

  Devil, I thought, my breath caught in my throat. Slowly, his eyes watching my every move, I put my hand between my legs, my thumb brushed my clitoris and I felt the surge of another orgasm coming.

  “You feel so good,” he said. “Don’t you?”

  I stopped, my body beginning to shake. This was supposed to break his control—mine was already broken.

  “Up on your knees,” I said, and finally he shifted, getting up on his knees every muscle flexing and moving, like a statue brought to life.

  I rewarded him by curling my hands around his cock. He hissed at the touch of my fingers.

  His erection pulsed in my hands and I kissed the head, felt it leap against my lips.

  “Zoe,” he moaned, his voice broken and hot as if burned by a terrible fire. I licked him, sucked him. Did every wicked thing to him that he’d done to me.

  “Touch yourself,” he breathed. “Touch yourself while you suck me.”

  Oh! I thought. So dirty! It was sinful, depraved, but I did it, my fingers in my damp curls, my secret places.

  His fingers, so big and callused, curled over the hand I had between my legs, driving me faster against myself until a giant wave lifted me up.r />
  “No,” I said, pushing his hands away.

  “I thought you wanted more,” he said, the devil in his eyes. His lips.

  “With you,” I whispered, looking him in the eye as I licked him, top to bottom. He shook, small tremors really that I could only feel because I was right there, pressed against him. My mouth was full of him, my body ached for him and my heart…well, my heart needed to mind its own business. My body was running this show.

  “I’m not—” His smile was broken. Chagrined. His fingers touched my neck, lifted my chin until he slipped away from me. “I’m going to lose it, Zoe,” he said as if it were a bad thing.

  “That’s sort of the idea,” I said, getting to my knees, so close to him my breasts dragged up against his chest. Again I felt his shaking.

  “I…” His hands touched my stomach, cupped my breasts. His thumbs stroked my nipples. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, laying a hand flat against the swell of my belly. It was so tender, the most tender touch I’d ever felt in my life, and my heart strained hard against my chest, a bird beating at its cage.

  “You won’t hurt me,” I said, trying to muscle my heart out of the picture, because I was beginning to feel less like a porn star and more like a woman in danger of falling in love.

  And really, I was going for porn star here.

  “You make me a little crazy,” he said, kissing my lips, breathing across my neck until my nipple was in his mouth and it felt like I was being licked by fire.

  “Okay,” I sighed, my mind going blank, every word I knew running away from me. “That’s…great. I…ah…oh wow…want you crazy.”

  He bit me, just hard enough to light up every single jackpot sign in my body.

  “Good,” he said, his voice all dark again, like chocolate and velvet and I felt that wave building in me. Was I going to come just listening to him talk? I squeezed my thighs together. Maybe. “Because I want you in my bed.”

  I whimpered as he scooped me up, my legs around his waist, the head of his cock bumping the white-hot center of my body. He walked through the shadows, the darkness a living breathing heat around us. I felt like we were cocooned, safe.