Page 23 of Beg For Me (Morally Gray #3)

SOPHIA

W e shower together, kissing leisurely as clouds of steam envelop our bodies. He’s erect the entire time, but demurs when I offer to take care of him.

“Next time. This time’s about you.”

He’s so damn dreamy. My girlfriends wouldn’t believe this if I told them. They’d think I was making it all up.

That thought is sobering, however. Neither Val nor Ev seemed supportive of this thing Carter and I have. Whatever it is. I don’t want to put a label on it yet.

I just want to enjoy it.

We have coffee and poached eggs, then he leaves for home and a change of fresh clothing. When I close the door behind him, I rest my forehead on it for a moment, wishing he hadn’t left.

Flying high and feeling invincible, I go to work, where I’m more productive than usual. I take phone calls, answer emails, and head meetings with a surge of energy flowing through my veins.

When Alex remarks on the pep in my step and wonders at the cause of it, I simply smile.

Carter sends me a text in the afternoon.

I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ve been useless all day. How are you doing?

I’m Superwoman today, thanks to you. Last night was incredible.

You’re the sexiest woman alive. And the most delicious. When can I see you again? I’m free tonight after 7.

I have a book club meeting tonight.

Cancel it. I’ll read you something VERY interesting.

I bet you would, handsome. Tomorrow night?

I have a business dinner. Saturday?

You’re on. 6pm?

Perfect. I’ll pick you up. I’m going to make you dinner at my house this time. Pack an overnight bag and shave your legs, baby.

My heart flutters, and my face heats. When I don’t dispute the overnight bag command, I know I’m in serious trouble.

I spend the next two days in a state of anticipation. All my senses are heightened. I feel electrified, and I can’t seem to catch my breath.

On Saturday morning, Harlow texts me from Cabo to complain about Brittany. Apparently, her attempts to befriend her are as annoying as all the screaming children running around the luxury beach resort they’re staying in.

I try to muster some sympathy for her, but can’t. I tell her I miss her and to have fun. She doesn’t respond to that, which likely means she’s sulking.

She wants us to have a common enemy, but I think in the long run it will be better for everyone involved if I keep my opinions about her father’s romantic relationships to myself.

Not that it’s easy. It’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I’m betting on karma taking care of Nick, though I know she works at her own pace. It could be decades before his chickens come home to roost.

But something tells me they will.

In the meantime, I’m living my life to the fullest.

By the time Carter pulls into my driveway in his sleek blue Corvette on Saturday night, I’m so wound up, I might explode. I can’t remember the last time I felt this much excitement.

By the way he bounds grinning over the grass to the front door, I know he’s excited too.

He sees me watching from the window and waves. Then he proceeds to ring the doorbell ten times in quick succession while also pounding on it with his fist.

I throw open the door and stare at him in disapproval as though I’ve never seen him before. “I’m sorry, sir, we don’t allow solicitors here.”

“But I’m peddling orgasms , ma’am! I’m sure you can make an exception.”

We grin at each other. He’s impossibly handsome in a white T-shirt and jeans, tattoos on fine display on his muscular arms. A shadow of scruff darkens his square jaw, which I find incredibly appealing. It lends his clean-cut good looks a bit of a feral vibe.

A shade of satyr in the woods.

He looks at the weekend bag at my feet and whistles. “You planning on moving in with me? That bag is serious business.”

“I’m a woman. We travel with a fully stocked pharmacy and cosmetics aisle, along with several different changes of clothes for each occasion, so we can dress according to our mood.”

“Huh. I travel with a toothbrush and a spare pair of briefs.”

“On your private jet, I’m sure, which is probably stocked with everything else you need.”

“Okay, less talking and more kissing. Come here, you.”

He grabs me and sweeps me off my feet, claiming my mouth in a kiss. Twirling me around, he sets me back on my feet and laughs like a lunatic.

“You should see your face. You’re bright red.”

I pretend to be offended and lift my nose in the air. “Maybe I have an allergy.”

He leans down and whispers into my ear, “Or maybe you can’t wait to put those beautiful shaved legs to good use and wrap them around my waist.”

My flush deepens. He laughs again, exhilarated.

“Okay, baby, let’s go.”

He grabs my bag and slings it over his shoulder, swaggering off to the car as I lock the front door. He loads my bag into the trunk. When I get to the passenger side and reach for the handle, he rolls his eyes and sighs dramatically.

“Oh, yes. Please excuse me. I forgot I have staff now.” I gesture to the door. “Go on then, chauffeur. Do your job.”

Gaze heating, he steps closer. A foot away, he smiles down at me with a frank sexual look in his eyes. “Anything you say, your grace.”

“Anything, hmm?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m all about your ladyship’s pleasure.”

We haven’t even left the driveway yet, and my heart is already racing.

He opens the door and sweeps his arm out in a courtly gesture, bowing low at the waist. I settle myself into the leather seat and smile up at him.

“Thank you…oh, I’m afraid I’ve forgotten your name, chauffeur. Jeeves, was it?”

“You can be more creative than P.G. Wodehouse. And Jeeves was a butler, not a chauffeur. Try again.”

“I’m beginning to think you did spend a lot of time at the library in college.”

“Does my big brain excite her ladyship?” He waggles his eyebrows.

Stifling a laugh, I bite my lip and nod. “Very much indeed. In fact, I’d like to take a closer look at that big brain of yours as soon as possible.”

Carter leans in and kisses my cheek. He whispers, “You’re so fucking perfect. My big brain is already hard for you.”

He swings the door shut to the sound of my helpless laughter.

As soon as we back out of the driveway onto the street, Carter takes my hand in his and starts to sing in a booming voice, faking like he’s the lead baritone in an Italian opera. The words are nonsensical. Watching him act so playful and ridiculous makes me so happy, I could float.

We make the short drive to his house in record time because he takes stop signs and yellow lights as mere suggestions.

He pulls into the driveway of a handsome Craftsman with a huge jacaranda tree in the front yard.

A stone walkway leads to a wraparound porch, which is bordered in lavender bushes and blooming hydrangeas.

A detached garage at the end of the cobblestone driveway matches the house’s architectural details and understated elegance.

Carter drives toward the garage and parks in front of it, cutting the engine. Just to test him, I reach for the doorhandle.

“Oh, her ladyship is toying with me,” he says, shaking his head. “I’ll remember that.”

I certainly hope so.

He opens my door and helps me out, then retrieves my bag from the trunk.

Then he leads me into the backyard, which is large and bordered by tall evergreens and Japanese maple trees.

A meandering path leads to a koi pond, complete with a small waterfall surrounded by lush ferns.

A flagstone patio features a built-in fireplace and a shaded pergola entwined with climbing jasmine.

Their small, star-shaped white flowers sweetly perfume the air.

When he opens the French doors in the back of the house and pushes them apart, inviting me inside, I gasp.

His home is gorgeous.

The floorplan is open-concept. A grand stone fireplace with an oak mantle dominates the living room.

It’s flanked by bookcases packed with hardbacks behind leaded glass doors.

The floors are dark, rich oak that flow throughout the first floor.

The gourmet kitchen has a cozy breakfast nook with built-in seating and a large island topped with butcher block, and the Shaker cabinets are painted soft sage.

The entire space is bathed in warm light coming in from the large windows.

“Carter, your home is so beautiful.”

I walk slowly through the living room, marveling at the quality of the furnishings, the incredible attention to detail. The classic Craftsman style is so elegant and well designed, his house could be featured in Architectural Digest .

“You like it?”

“I do.”

He sets my bag on the leather sofa and strolls over to me, hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Thanks. I told my realtor I wanted something homey.”

“This is more than homey. This is a dream.”

His lips quirk. “Wait until you see my bedroom.”

I bat my lashes coyly. “Why? What’s in there?”

He prowls over to me, smirking, then wraps me in his arms. As I twine my arms around his waist, he presses his cheek to mine.

“All the worshipping you deserve.”

He reaches down and squeezes my ass, then bites me lightly on the neck, growling playfully.

I laugh, but then he covers my mouth with his and kisses me. Holding me tightly, he sweeps his tongue against mine with gentle suction, stopping to softly bite my lower lip then thrusting his tongue into my mouth again and feeding on me.

My nipples are tingling. I’m already wet between my legs.

His voice husky and his blue eyes heavy-lidded and hot, Carter says, “Is your grace pleased with her servant?”

Dear God. He’s unlocking new kinks left and right for me.

I’m seized with a burning desire to find a leather crop and a pair of riding boots and sit on a high-backed chair with him kneeling naked on the floor between my legs, wrists bound and cock hard, begging me for mercy as I whip his bare ass until it’s welted.

What is he doing to me?

Maintaining an air of cool detachment, I say, “She is. But we still haven’t given you a name, fine sir.”