Hope Burns - Page 64/75

Carter caught her halfway, pinning her against the wall.

His mouth was on hers before she could catch her breath.

This was what she’d wanted, what she’d thought about every day since that night he’d laid a hot kiss on her in his car. She buried her fingers in his hair and moaned against his lips, taking as much as he gave.

His hands slid under her shirt—cold fingers, but she didn’t care, since her body flamed hot with desire. And when he cupped her butt and squeezed, angling her body so she could feel exactly how much he wanted her, all she could do was rub against him, anxious energy sizzling through her.

He lifted her shirt off, then popped the clasp on her bra, filling his hands with her breasts. His mouth soon followed, and she felt the frenzy of desire, the need to touch his skin with her hands and her mouth. She unbuckled his belt, drew his zipper down, shoving at his jeans to draw them over his hips.

She slid her fingers inside his boxers and wrapped them around his cock, loving the sound of his groan.

“I’ve thought about this every night since I put you on my lap in the car,” he said, mirroring her thoughts.

“Me, too. I want this, Carter. I want you.”

He kissed his way from her breasts to her neck, taking a moment to run his tongue over her throat before taking her mouth again.

Heady passion had her in its grasp, a roller coaster of fevered need. Carter drew her up and carried her the few remaining steps into the bedroom, dumping her none too gently on the bed.

She didn’t want gentle. She wanted him.

She kicked off her shoes while he wrestled with the zipper of her jeans, then drew them down her legs. They shed the rest of their clothes and he grabbed a condom, then climbed on to the bed, spread her legs and slid into her, making her cry out from the delicious pleasure.

As he moved within her, he slowed, his gaze meeting hers in a moment of pure tenderness that nearly broke her. She lifted, wanting the raw passion, the animalistic, mindless need, not this heartbreaking emotion that nearly tore her in two.

She closed her eyes, letting the physical sensations carry her away.

But Carter wouldn’t allow it.

“Molly. Look at me.”

She ignored him for a few seconds, but his movements made her gasp.

“Molly.”

She opened her eyes, and it was like drowning in a sea of mesmerizing green.

She was lost, physically and emotionally, and she had no hopes of keeping herself away from him. Not when he was inside her, moving within her, knowing her body as he did. His fingers laced with hers, and he took her right where she needed to go, his eyes never leaving hers as they both came with a fury that made any control she’d hoped to hang on to explode in a million tiny pieces.

And still, he held on to her, as if he was trying to communicate his thoughts, his emotions, without words.

But she couldn’t listen. Maybe she didn’t want to acknowledge that it was possible he felt something deeper than just this amazing physical force that drew them both together. She focused on the ever-consuming waves of her orgasm, the physicality of it all, the pure thrill of how this man owned her body so completely.

It was all she could allow. Anything else would be devastating to her heart, and she wasn’t ready for that yet.

She might never be.

After, he kissed her neck, rolled to the side, allowing them both to catch their breath. Carter left the bed for a moment, then came back, pulling her against him. She laid her head on his chest, listening to his strong heartbeat.

“Give me ten minutes, then we’re going for round two.”

She lifted her head to stare up at him. “Is there a prerequisite number of times we’re doing it tonight?”

He grinned. “Yeah. Until I pass out or can’t get it up anymore. We haven’t had a lot of time together lately, and I’ve missed you.”

She laughed. “I’ve missed you, too. And tomorrow’s a workday.”

“I’ll expect you to be on time, too.”

She shook her head and lay down again. “My boss is such a dick.”

“So I’ve heard. Want me to kick the shit out of him for you?”

“Would you?”

“Anything for you, babe.”

She smiled, then rolled over on top of him to kiss him, hoping she could cut those ten minutes down to five.

Chapter 29

THE DAY OF the Hope holiday parade dawned cold, but snow free. Molly was both happy and sad. Mainly happy for the town and everyone involved in the parade and the town square project.

But there was snow forecast in a few days, so she could still be excited about that.

She’d had to report to the parade center early that morning to meet with the town square committee. She’d gotten up early to have coffee with her parents. Her mom said she was going to come to the parade today, and her father insisted it was going to be in a wheelchair, because there would be too many people around who could potentially bump into her and knock her down. Plus, walking around the house and at therapy was one thing—fatiguing herself at the parade was another.

Despite her mother’s protests, Molly sided with her father, and Mom grudgingly agreed to the wheelchair.

She’d hurried down to the parade route to see the town square.

It was beautiful. The fountain was running, the dolphin was gorgeous, the tiles were amazing, and the playground was perfect. The giant Christmas tree sitting behind the square was a fabulous touch. She couldn’t wait to see it lit up tonight after the festival.

She hoped her mother was proud of the final product, since she’d spearheaded the project from the beginning. Molly planned to meet her parents here after the parade.

Speaking of which, she had to get in place at the judge’s grandstand. She hurried down the street and around the corner, the brisk walk in the cold air warming her up. She stopped in Megan’s shop along the way to grab a very large latte, and she had that in her hand when she arrived at the grandstand, where Mavis waited.

“Oh, good, you’re here, Molly. Here’s your judging packet. You know, Henderson’s Ford is a big contributor to the mayor’s campaign. And they always do the best floats. Do you know they win the grand prize every year?”

And so it begins. “Is that right?” she asked as they made their way up the bleacher stairs to the booth.

“It is. The mayor would consider it a personal favor if you’d give them a high vote.”