His Mimosa_The Cocktail Girls Page 6

  And the expression on his face—it could make a girl believe things that weren’t true. Crazy things, like he had feelings that went beyond a passing fling.

  However, I refused to let myself believe I was some extraordinary exception. Men like Carter should come with a warning label and, for all intents and purposes, he did.

  He’d been very upfront about his feelings when it came to commitment, and I’d gone into this arrangement knowing there was a disclaimer. Tomorrow he would be leaving for good, and I needed to be okay with that.

  Yesterday when he thought I was asleep and he was pouring his heart out about his childhood? Yeah, I heard every word. Waking to the sound of his deep voice had been soothing until I realized how sad he sounded. It was no wonder he was wary of falling in love.

  Today I’d been keeping him at a distance, always steering our conversations to lighter subjects. Never anything too personal. Like this morning when I’d made him pancakes and he started talking about his favorite breakfast diner back at home. I didn’t want to picture him there without me, drinking coffee and chatting with the waitresses. Maybe meeting up there with a girlfriend in the future.

  So I had cut him off, making the excuse that I needed to go shower. He’d joined me minutes later, but I could see the frustration he felt in the furrowing of his eyebrows and the tight press of his lips.

  He didn’t try to tell me anything else after that.

  But the intense stare he was giving me now? It said so much.

  I’d been attempting to protect my heart, because I suspected Carter could penetrate the unguarded walls so easily.

  Maybe he already had.

  “The Bellagio fountains are a must see,” I insisted as our group stood outside the grand hotel, waiting for the show.

  After the ziplining, I took the guys to my favorite Greek restaurant. It wasn’t the Stratosphere or anything, but they had flaming cheese and a special kind of white wine from a vineyard in California. Claiming he didn’t want to be hungover again, Carter only had a sip of mine, while I indulged in three glasses, which put me in the ‘giggly drunk’ category.

  Carter had been extremely attentive on the walk to the Bellagio, steadying me so I didn’t fall. I let him coddle me by putting his arm around my waist and holding my hand more often than necessary.

  I was sobering up now, but I still leaned on him for support.

  “The show should be starting soon,” I announced, scanning the water.

  The hotel was across the pond, tall and luminescent. Over thirty floors of impressive architecture, it was a sight to see all on its own.

  Scott’s face lit up with an idea. “I should FaceTime with Steph. She’ll want to see this.”

  It rang twice before a cute blonde showed up on the screen. “Hey, babe!”

  “Hi, honey,” he responded, pivoting so we were all in the background. “Everyone say hi to Steph.”

  Carter and I shared a secret smile about the terms of endearment. He hadn’t been kidding about the pet names.

  “I’m Brynne, the tour guide,” I half-joked, waving at her.

  “Oh, you guys splurged for a tour guide?” she asked Scott, totally gullible. “That was probably smart since you get lost on the way to Starbucks.”

  He laughed at her barb and shook his head. “Brynne is kidding. Carter met her at our hotel. She’s from here.”

  Stephanie beamed, like Scott had just told her he hit the jackpot at the slot machines. “C-Man, you met someone?”

  Apparently, the nicknames extended to Carter as well.

  I expected him to tell her she was wrong, and I was just a friend. But he looped an arm around my waist, pulled my back to his chest, and said, “Yep.”

  Instead of letting Stephanie interrogate Carter, Scott changed the subject back to the reason we were here: the Bellagio fountain show. She squealed when he told her it was starting, and he flipped the phone toward the water in front of us.

  As the beat of “Uptown Funk” by Bruno Mars began, tall jets of water shot up high in the distance and lights flashed in time with the music.

  Wrapping both of his arms around my middle, Carter tightened his hold on me and rested his chin on top of my head.

  I let out a content sigh.

  People around us cheered when a circular pattern in the fountains went super high and being with Carter—imagining the way it looked through his eyes—made me feel like I was seeing it for the first time. I’d meant it when I told him these experiences were different for me, simply because he was here. He was managing to make my everyday surroundings like new again.

  I leaned my head back on his solid chest, telling myself it was enough to just enjoy his company for as long as I could.

  His hand was splayed out on my stomach. A possessive hold.

  I loved that he couldn’t seem to stop touching me. For someone who claimed he wasn’t into relationships, he sure was affectionate.

  Any rational thoughts I’d been having fled, because Carter’s hand was traveling south.

  I sucked in a breath when his fingertips reached the waist of my jeans. They lingered there for a brief second before slipping underneath the denim with no signs of stopping.

  He kept going down, past my lower belly and two fingers slid to my pussy. I was wet—really wet—and Carter let out a gruff groan by my ear at that discovery.

  I grasped his forearm so hard my nails dug into his skin. This was risky. Scandalous.

  The sun hadn’t fully set yet, so we didn’t even have darkness to hide us.

  He had the audacity to finger fuck me in public during daylight. And I couldn’t even freak out on him because, one, it would draw attention to us. And two, I didn’t want him to stop.

  I swallowed down a whimper as he worked my clit with two digits, flicking and circling in perfect rhythm. He didn’t dip down any further, but he knew he didn’t need to. He’d quickly learned all the secrets to playing me like a fine-tuned instrument.

  Paranoid, my head whipped back and forth, searching the crowd for anyone that might catch sight of what we were doing.

  Everyone seemed focused on the show, but I covered my front with my purse anyway. It was the biggest one I owned, more bag-like. Practical for a day of venturing around the city. Also practical for hiding the fact that Carter had his hand shoved down my pants.

  To anyone else, it probably looked like we were just a couple embracing during a romantic moment.

  They had no idea I was about to come from the tight circles Carter was massaging on my most sensitive spot.

  I gasped loudly, but no one noticed. Everyone else was oohing and gasping too, but it was because they were impressed by the fountains, not because they were a few rubs away from getting off.

  “Oh my God!” a woman from somewhere to my left yelled, pointing straight ahead at the action. “This is wonderful.”

  Yeah, lady. My thoughts exactly.

  Carter’s finger pressed harder, and I had to bite my lip to stifle a moan.

  My head fell back against his shoulder and my knees began to shake as the buildup reached its peak. It was a good thing his other arm had a firm hold on my waist because I was in danger of falling over.

  Then, suddenly, his hand was gone.

  No, no, no.

  Carter gave my butt a playful swat before going back to holding me, like nothing had ever happened.

  My groan of protest and disappointment was drowned out by cheers from the people around us. Heat flamed behind my cheeks, and I wasn’t sure if it was arousal, anger, or both.

  I glanced over my shoulder to give Carter the dirtiest look ever, but he one-upped me by doing the filthiest, hottest thing possible. He stuck the tip of his middle finger in his mouth and sucked, licking me off. Tasting me.

  It made the throbbing in my center ten times worse.

  I let out frustrated sigh that went unheard, just like the rest of my embarrassing sounds.

  “I can’t believe you get to see this any time you want,
” Scott shouted at me without turning our way. “You’re probably tired of it by now, huh?”

  Lost for words, I just did an awkward shrug. Because I couldn’t tell him that the Bellagio fountain show had never been like that before.

  This time when we parted ways with Carter’s crew, he didn’t ask if he could come home with me—he just assumed.

  After confirming the flight time in the morning with Scott, he laced his fingers with mine and pulled me in the direction of my car.

  I found his arrogance endearing.

  As we walked, I sent him a heated glance. My clit was still buzzing from the orgasm I’d been denied. Carter returned my look with a smug smirk.

  That bastard. He’d done it on purpose. An insurance policy to guarantee his spot in my bed.

  As if I would’ve said no. Even before the tease, I was desperate for one more night with him.

  Before he let go of my hand to walk around to the passenger side of my car, I caught a vulnerable expression on his face that made my breath hitch.

  Maybe it wasn’t arrogance. If I read him right, it was closer to insecurity. Longing. Dread.

  He wasn’t alone in feeling that way.

  When we got to my bedroom, we didn’t speak of tomorrow or time limits. In fact, we didn’t talk at all as we undressed in my dark bedroom, standing on opposite sides of my bed. I didn’t take my eyes off his as I unclasped my bra and let it slide down my arms. Next, I hooked my thumbs into my black panties and let them fall to the floor.

  Carter did the same with his boxer briefs, and he was hard and ready, his thick cock standing at attention. He already had a condom rolled on, and I had no idea when he’d done that. Probably when I was distracted by the moonlight glinting off the muscles of his torso.

  Amused and turned on, I quirked an eyebrow. He just responded with a mega-watt smile.

  Our knees hit the mattress at the same time and we met in the middle of the bed, hands roaming each other’s bodies like we could memorize every line and curve with our fingertips.

  He paused at my neck and affectionately twirled a lock of my hair.

  “Brynne, I—” he started, and I silenced him by pressing my pointer finger over his mouth.

  I didn’t want words, because words would turn into goodbyes. I wasn’t ready for that. Not yet. I just wanted him to touch me everywhere.

  Needing to feel like I was in control, I pushed him onto his back and straddled his waist.

  He ran his hands up my thighs as I sank down on him. His cock stretched me, inflicting both pain and pleasure.

  I was so sore from how many times we’d had sex. If someone had told me it was possible to fuck as many times as we had in the past thirty-six hours, I wouldn’t have believed them.

  Gripping my hips, Carter thrusted upward, pushing impossibly deep. A guttural moan sounded in the back of my throat. Then I started to move. Bracing my palms on his pecs, I rocked in a torturously slow pace, watching every reaction pass over his face.

  I loved his parted lips, messy hair, and the scruff on his jaw. He hadn’t shaved in the time he’d been here, and although it wasn’t a full beard yet, it was darker. Thicker. It felt great between my legs.

  I loved his eyes the most. He had the ability to level me with those hazel orbs. Just like he was doing right now, obliterating my heart with the vulnerability in their depths.

  My chest became tight with emotion—a common occurrence when the sex became too intense.

  I focused on the headboard straight ahead. I was still going through the motions, but mentally, I was trying to check out for a minute.

  Carter’s hands tightened on my hips.

  “Look at me,” he rasped.

  My eyes briefly flitted to his, but I had to glance away again. It was too much. It was like staring at the sun.

  But he wouldn’t be denied. Lightly grabbing my chin, he pressed his other hand to the middle of my back, manipulating my body until my chest was flush against his and our faces were just inches apart.

  I couldn’t escape him now.

  “That’s better.” He gave me a predatory grin. Sliding his palm down to my ass, he gave it a light slap. “Move, babe.”

  Babe.

  He’d just called me a pet name. The kind he hated.

  I could’ve called him out. Could’ve given him shit about it to lighten the mood. But I didn’t want to hear him tell me it was just a slip up. That he didn’t mean it.

  Keeping my eyes on his, I picked up the pace of my hips once again. I grinded myself on him, chasing the bliss only Carter could give me.

  I felt a fluttering in my core, a pleasant and familiar tightening in my lower belly. I didn’t think it was possible for me to come so many times in one day, but this man seemed to be able to give me an endless amount of orgasms. Each one I’d had today was stronger than the last, and I could already tell from the building pressure that this one was going to make me scream.

  My breath caught as my inner muscles clenched to the point of pain. Trying to be considerate of my roommate, I buried my face in the pillow by Carter’s head and let out a primal wail.

  “Fuck. Fuck, fuck,” he chanted by my ear, his fingers digging into my ass as he pounded up into me.

  I felt his cock swell inside me and a second later, his body locked up as his sexy groan echoed through the room.

  Purposely clenching my inner muscles, I milked him with my pussy and he grunted out a few more profanities.

  Totally spent, I lay on top of him for a minute while attempting to catch my breath. I lifted my head, and we were both panting as we lazily kissed.

  It wasn’t until we were snuggled under the covers—ready for sleep—that I broke the silence.

  “You’re a good man, Carter.”

  He stiffened, like my compliment made him uncomfortable.

  “You are,” I insisted, drawing lazy circles on his chest.

  He placed his hand over mine, stilling my actions until my palm was pressed over his heart. “Thank you, Brynne.”

  Glancing up at his face, I was just barely able to make out his features in the dark.

  This might be the last time I ever saw him.

  I couldn’t handle the thought of him slipping out while I was still asleep, sneaking away like I was some embarrassing mistake.

  I loved my home, but Las Vegas wasn’t like the rest of the world. Here, reality was suspended. People got caught up in the magic and did things they might regret later. Anxiety plagued me when I realized I might be the snafu Carter never spoke of again.

  “Promise me you won’t leave tomorrow without saying goodbye,” I requested quietly.

  A few seconds ticked by before he kissed my forehead. “I promise I’ll wake you first.”

  Satisfied with his reassurance, I relaxed a little.

  I waited several minutes until his breathing evened out. Tense, I watched for any signs that he was faking, much like I’d done the day before.

  His arm twitched. It was the kind of involuntary movement the body made after falling asleep.

  For the ultimate test, I brushed my palm lightly over his bare cock, which was soft and unresponsive. It was probably wrong for me to molest the man while he was unconscious, but I needed to be sure he wouldn’t hear me.

  Because what I had to say was for my benefit, not his.

  “My experience isn’t like yours,” I whispered. “My parents have been in love with each other since high school. I grew up watching them make out in the kitchen and grope each other in the hallways. I used to think it was disgusting.” I laughed lightly. “But now I’m grateful to them for showing me what a healthy relationship looks like. It’s something I strive for. It’s the hope I hold onto when I feel lonely. Even if I’m never going to see you again, I wish I could give part of that to you, so you could take it back to Oklahoma. So you could be happy. But you wanna know what I wish most of all?” Carter’s response was a soft snore, and I swallowed hard before whispering, “I wish I could keep you fo
r myself.”

  With the confession off my chest, I was able to fall asleep.

  I’d never wished for time to stop before. I tried my best to live in-the-now. Now was always temporary. Fleeting. That was what made the present so fascinating. Thinking about the past was depressing, and the concept of planning for the future was unfathomable for me.

  But as I lay in bed with Brynne spooned in front of me, I wanted nothing more than to stay in this moment for a little longer.

  Okay, a lot longer.

  She was the best surprise of my life.

  Burying my nose in her hair, I committed the citrus scent to memory. I ran my thumb over the curve of her hip. I rubbed my lips over the soft skin of her shoulder.

  For my spank bank, of course. I had a feeling I’d be jacking off to thoughts of Brynne for many days to come.

  We’d had a great weekend, and now it was over. It was just a sexual connection, nothing more. In time, we would forget each other.

  Lies.

  As I tried to drill those thoughts into my mind, my heart said something different. When I pictured my life without her in it, without ever seeing her again, it literally hurt.

  Rubbing at my aching chest, I silently slipped my arm out from under Brynne and made my way to the bathroom.

  It was still dark out, but a blue glow coming through the window let me know the sun was coming up soon. Which meant I needed to get back to the hotel if I wanted to make it in time for my morning flight.

  I splashed water on my face. Stared at my forlorn expression in the mirror. Gripped the sink ledge until my knuckles turned white.

  What the hell was wrong with me?

  I was the king of being detached. I could handle one little fling. I didn’t do casual sex often, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t walk out of this apartment and never look back.

  Fuck.

  That was a lie, too.

  I hadn’t even left yet, and I already missed Brynne.

  I’d be thinking of her on the way to the airport. On the plane. Tomorrow when I woke up. And the next day.

  It was too soon to be love, but I had to face it—the connection Brynne and I had was something special.