Secret Affairs. Natalie Anderson
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the smoothness of the craftsmanship.
‘Perfect for Nick,’ Carter called from a couple of stalls away. He waved a bright-coloured, hand-crafted wooden jigsaw puzzle at her. ‘Help him learn his numbers.’
‘But he’s how old?’ she teased, walking over to join him.
‘Eight months,’ Carter answered, unabashed. ‘It’s never too soon to start working on numbers. He’s got to be groomed to take over the business.’
‘Thus speaks the accountant.’ Had he been groomed from birth too? ‘Look.’ She pointed out another puzzle that had six circles, the parts cut like pizzas. ‘Get him that and he can get to grips with fractions before he’s one.’ She held it up as if it was the best invention ever.
‘Oh, good idea.’ Carter took it off her.
‘You’re not serious.’
Actually it appeared he was.
She shook her head. ‘What about this one—this is much more cool.’ Like a globe, a fanciful underwater scene with sharks and whales, seahorse, octopus, glitter and fake pearls.
He screwed up his nose. ‘Bit girly, isn’t it?’ Then he shot her a look and winked. ‘Okay, that’s three.’ He gathered them together and then glanced at her, a sheepish smile softening his face to irresistibly boyish. ‘Am I going over the top?’
‘No.’
‘You’re right.’ Carter reached into his wallet and handed money to the stallholder. ‘He’s going to love them.’
Penny couldn’t help but wonder what Nick looked like—was he a mini-Carter? Did he have his big brother’s amazing multi-coloured eyes? She hoped so. She’d love a baby with big blue-green eyes and a cheeky smile. She’d sit her on her knee and pull faces to make her giggle.
Oh, hell, here she was so swamped by warm fuzzies from all the fabulous sex, she was having fantasies about what their babies would look like. She was pathetic.
She never wanted to have children. And Carter most certainly didn’t want any.
What he wanted was a week’s fling, nothing more. Nor did she. And that was all this was. Okay, so he’d made her feel everything she’d never before felt. But now she’d learned to let go, she would with other lovers, right? She closed her eyes against the sudden sting of tears and her uncontrollable spasm of revulsion.
She didn’t want another man ever to touch her. She only wanted Carter. And she wanted him again now—already addicted to the highs he gave. She felt so good with him. Except that was all this really was—he was the ultimate good-time guy, filled with fun and sun and laughter. He looked carefree in his casual clothes, his red tee shirt as cheerful as his demeanour.
She didn’t want him to be so free and easy. It wasn’t fair. She wanted him to want her with the same kind of underlying desperation she felt for him. The desperation she was trying to bury deep and deny.
But she had the compelling urge to push him into a glorious loss of control. Because even though she knew they shared the most amazing sex, it was she who lost it first. He always hung on until she was truly satisfied. And while he was the only lover ever to have been able to do that for her, part of her didn’t like it. It made her feel like the weaker link. She knew that didn’t really matter—this wasn’t going past the one week. She wished she could shatter him just once.
But she was the one falling apart.
She tugged on his hand and turned to face him. ‘Kiss me.’
Carter looked at her. He could feel the tremors running under her skin. What had happened in the last sixty seconds to make her so edgy?
‘I thought you didn’t like lust in public?’ he teased to joke a smile out of her.
‘Just kiss me,’ she said.
And how could any man resist a sultry command like that? Carter pulled hard on her hair so her head tilted back. He kissed down the column of her exposed throat. With his other hand he pushed her pelvis, grinding it into his.
He stepped back pulling her into the shadows behind a row of stalls. Truthfully he didn’t do public displays much—and certainly not of unbridled lust like this. But the moment he touched her he was lost. Uncaring about what anyone thought, he just had to hold her closer and let the glory wash through him.
‘You are amazing.’ Breathing hard and deep, she looked at him, her black eyes shining. Suddenly she smiled. ‘You make me feel so good.’
His skin prickled. Okay, that was nice because he did aim to please, but it wasn’t just the kissing that made him feel good. Fact was, he felt good every moment he spent with her.
After the market it was back to the office for a long afternoon that Penny struggled through every second of. Baby images kept popping in her head. Cute Carter-as-a-kid imaginings. So stupid.
When they finally returned to his apartment he went fussing in the kitchen, so Penny swam in the pool—needing twenty minutes alone to sort out her head. But a zillion lengths didn’t really help so she went back upstairs. Something smelt good and Carter was busy on his computer. She didn’t think he even noticed when she walked past on her way to shower. So much for the revitalising benefits of exercise—all she felt was even more tired and emotional. She wanted to fall into his arms again and let him take her to paradise. She wanted him to hold her and never let go.
It was the sex. Her weak woman’s body wanted to wrap around his and absorb his strength. But he was mentally miles away in an office in Melbourne controlling his companies. So she could control merely herself, couldn’t she? She flicked on the lights in the big bathroom and twisted the shower on. She stood under the streaming jet and let the water pummel the tension in her shoulders.
‘Is it okay if I join you?’ His erection pointed to the sky, already condom sheathed.
Her bones dissolved, she leant against the wall, wanting to cling to him and just hang on for the ride. His face lit up, his low laugh rumbled and he flashed a victorious smile.
She closed her eyes because his all-male beauty was too much to witness. But when she opened them again, everything was still black. The room was totally dark.
‘Carter?’ she asked quickly. ‘What happened?’
‘Bulb must have blown.’ He stepped into the wet space with her.
She slid her palms all over his chest, loving it as the water made him slick. It was like discovering him all over again only by touch this time, not sight. Somehow it seemed more intimate, more intense. He pulled her close and kissed her. Oh, she loved those kisses. She loved the way he twisted her hair into a rope and wound it against his wrist—pulling it back, exposing her throat to his hot mouth. And then he went lower.
She gasped and pressed back against the cool wet tiles as he licked down her torso. His hands cupped her breasts, lifting them first to the water, and then to his tongue. She shuddered, the sensations excruciatingly sublime.
In the velvety darkness all she could do was soak up his caresses and listen to the falling water. As he gently, rhythmically tugged on each nipple with his lips, her knees gave out. He grasped her waist, easing her to the floor and following, kept doing those, oh, so wickedly delicious things with his tongue and hands.
Blind to everything but sensation, she groaned and his kisses went even lower. She reached, finding his broad shoulders with her hands and sweeping across them, loving the smooth hot skin and the hot water raining on them.
She arched up, unable to stop her response to the wide, wet touches, hardly aware of who she was any more. His hand splayed on her lower back, pushing her closer to his hungry mouth. The other he used to test her, torment her, tease her. Just one finger at first, smoothly entering her slick heat. She gasped, but his tongue kept stroking, and then she was blind to everything except how it felt. She moved uncontrollably, rocking to meet him. Panting, she shuddered as he plunged deeper,