And then his eyes met mine.
For a moment, I thought he’d snap out of it. His lips parted like he had somethin’ to say even as he watched my chest rise and fall. But I’d be damned if I let him watch me crumble.
I jutted my chin toward him and squared my shoulders as much as I could. “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”
That did it.
Carver flipped instantly and smirked as he lifted my hips and removed my shorts, leaving me in only a cotton thong. I became transfixed as the terror and anger subsided into something worse. Well, almost worse.
Another growl escaped his lips, the familiar scent of oak and leather soothing me further while I looked back at him. Two vibrant blue eyes glossed over as he stared down between my legs, my arousal clear on my panties.
“You haven’t fucked him yet,” he said like he knew I hadn’t. I shook my head, letting my legs go limp in his hold. “Good.” He shoved his finger into my mouth, pushing down on my tongue. His eyes darkened as I sucked, my eyes rolling to the back of my head.
“Fuck, Ly.” He pulled his finger free and hooked my panties to the side, that wet digit sliding over my clit. I tossed my head back and moaned, but he quickly covered my mouth with his other hand, his face a mere inch from mine.
“You don’t deserve the things I’m about to do to you.” His finger pushed inside, then another, and my hips writhed in response. “You can tell yourself whatever you want. You can say you don’t want this and that you aren’t playin’ games with my roommate. Shit, you can even say you haven’t thought ’bout me doing this to you every night since you’ve been gone, and we both know you’d just be lying like you always do. But your body won’t lie to me, will it?”
The veins along his forearm popped as he thrust in hard, teasing my clit with the heel of his palm. Carver chuckled darkly, his eyes heavy as they locked on mine. “Fuck, you’re soaked.”
“Carver, please,” I murmured his name again like a prayer even as fury danced in my blood.
“No other man will ever be enough for you.”Thrust. “And I want you to remember that.”Thrust.“Remember that you had the best, and now you’re stuck searchin’ the rest of your lifefor this”—I gasped as he pushed in so deep, I saw stars—“right here.”
Warm breath assaulted my skin as I moaned into his hand. I was so close. He knew all the right spots to keep me a mess and purposely refused to stroke that spot that’d send me sputtering. I opened my eyes as his hand left my core, only to be replaced by his slick tongue as his knees hit the ground.
“Oh, fuck.” My lips parted with a gasp, his dark brown hair moving between my legs while his fingers dug into my ass and lifted me to his face. I should have pulled back, should have known better in the first place than to come around this town at all. I murmured another curse and anchored my hands back on the mirror, trying to keep my head from banging on it repeatedly as he devoured me whole. The small bathroom was becoming damp, making every surface steamy and coated in a layer of us—the familiar us.
I ground my hips shamelessly, eliciting a deep groan from him as his stubble scraped against my thighs. I wanted to reach out and run my fingers through his thick hair, but I didn’t know what would trigger him to stop. And I didn’t want him to stop.
Carver had been the only man to leave a mark on my heart. Ever since I crossed over the county line, memories of him and me together hadn’t stopped flooding my brain. Yet, here he was, on his knees, making sure all I wanted was him. He wanted me to suffer more than my daily life already put me through. I’d be angrier about his words if it weren’t for the other intense heat pooling low in my belly. I couldn't think clearly as he pushed on my lower abdomen, keeping me still while his tongue lashed across my clit.
My orgasm came fast, my legs trembling over his shoulders. He kept going, sucking and licking along my center until I was wriggling and sliding down the glass, unable to hold myself up anymore.
He stood and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, the lines of his face hard as his jaw worked. In seconds, he was towering over me, pressing his hands to the glass as if trying to keep himself anchored. For several long seconds, possibly minutes, our breaths were heavy as we just…stared. Then, without a single word, he pushed away and left, slamming the door behind him.
I looked down at my crumpled shorts on the floor and felt the air return to the room, cooling my exposed center. Leaning back against the mirror, I tried collecting myself as something flashed in the corner of my eye. Written in the still-steamy glass was a singular word:bitch. I smiled weakly and drew a tiny heart next to it, hoping he showered in this bathroom bright and early.
Carver Roland had always had a way with words, but I’d always had a way with men, and I wouldn’t let myself be fooled into thinking he was any different.
Not again.
TEN YEARS AGO
There was something settling about a butterfly’s wings. Not many people knew that butterflies actually had four wings, not two. Two on each side that blended together, working as one, appearing as one. I started collecting butterflies when I was young, even though my mama tried to throw them away at first. And when Chet came into the picture—all the peace of collecting them started to die.
At one point, I wished I were a butterfly, wished I could trade places with them, especially when my body started turning into what it was now. Mama called it good genes, I called it lack of food and the inability to clothe myself properly with the few dollars I could scrounge up. She used to tell me I was coming out of my shell, just like my butterflies, yet all I wanted to do was crawl back inside.
That’s what had brought me to the field after school one day. I sat down with my bag, facing the edge of the woods where several wildflowers and bushes dotted the trees, waiting for the yellow wings of the orange-barred sulfur to flutter on by. The sun grew tired overhead, but the noises behind me were steady. Most sports or clubs used the field in one way or another, and as it turned out, I picked a day when a majority of them filed out and filled almost every spot available.
Glancing up at the clouds, I sighed deeply, then narrowed my eyes as they fell back to the senna plants, hoping I’d see a flash of yellow. But there was nothing there. Making to stand, the weight of my bag sent me teetering as I tried to find my balance.
“Woah!” Sun-kissed and strong arms jutted out, hooking under my arms from behind. I blinked down at them, then scowled and pushed whoever it was away. “You okay?”
“Fine.” I groaned, brushing grass from my legs.
A southern twang, stronger than my own, coated his next words. “Normally, people say thank you after being saved.”
I rolled my eyes and rubbed my fingertips along my forehead as I turned. He was lanky in the way most boys my age were, with small ripples of muscle poking out through his JROTC t-shirt. But what caught my immediate attention was the way his blue eyes were looking at me—not like most ever did.
