Page 13

13

CARLOTTA

S taring at myself in the mirror as I brush my teeth, I come to several conclusions. First, I look happier than I’ve ever been before. Truly like a woman who was fucked good and well, and that’s a first for me which makes it slightly delicious. My cheeks glow and there’s a pleasant buzz moving just beneath my skin. Like a current that has my entire body tingling. I can still feel a twinge between my legs, but it’s not unpleasant. It’s just a sexy reminder of how big Damon is and what he can do with that magical cock of his. I’m glad I waited for him and his experience made last night unforgettable in every way.

Second, it makes me happy that he’s beginning to open up to me. If I had to guess, I’d say he probably rarely, if ever, confides in anyone. Maybe by talking about his past, he can find some kind of healing. He said he’s broken and I’ll do whatever I can to help him feel whole again. No matter what he thinks about himself, I know he’s a good man. A protector to his core who will defend the people he loves.

And, third, I’m going to enjoy every moment we have up here, isolated in this cabin together. He’s adamant we can’t see each other again once we return to the city, but I’m not onboard with that idea at all. In fact, my plan is to slowly make him see how good we are together. Because if last night is any indication, I don’t see how he could just walk away.

I can smell the yummy scent of brewing coffee and I’m ready for the caffeine jolt. After changing back into Damon’s sweatpants and T-shirt and pulling my hair up into a messy bun, I walk out of the bathroom and head over to the island where he sits.

Pulling out the stool beside him, I drop down and reach for the steaming mug waiting for me. I lift it up, blow lightly, and take a sip. “Thank you,” I say. I’m used to sweet, flavored coffee, but surprisingly, I realize that I don’t mind this plain black stuff.

“You’re welcome.”

I glance over at him from the corner of my eye and my heart kicks up a notch. He’s starting to affect me and that’s scary. Especially since he doesn’t want anything long term. But how can I not be affected by him? His dark stubble is thicker now, a light beard, and I can still remember how it felt scraping against my inner thighs. His long fingers are wrapped around his mug and he lifts it up, touches his mouth to the side and drinks. That same mouth that latched onto my pussy last night again and again and made me scream.

I’m getting hot and bothered, and I really need to cool off.

“How about that walk?” I suggest.

He looks over and smirks as though he can hear my salacious thoughts.

“You ready?”

I nod. “Yep. Can I take my coffee with me?”

He gives me a funny look. “Of course. You can do whatever you want.”

I guess it was a silly question, but I’m so used to asking for permission before I do something. I don’t really know why. Maybe because I’m the youngest and I’m used to being bossed around. Or maybe because it’s the polite thing to do.

“Make sure to bundle up,” he tells me and finishes the rest of his coffee. “It’s going to be chilly out there.”

I follow him over to the closet and he pulls out a jacket and a scarf for me. I wrap myself up and watch as he slips his leather jacket on.

“What about you?” I ask and nudge him with my shoulder.

“I don’t need any extra layers. You’re making me hot enough.”

A pleasant blush warms my cheeks as we walk outside. I’m glad to know he’s as affected as I am. We head down the steps and I look up at the perfect sky above. It’s sunny, not a cloud in all that azure beauty, but it’s definitely cold. One of those brisk, late fall days where the leaves crunch beneath your feet and thoughts of hot cocoa fill your head. The holidays are approaching fast and I wonder who Damon plans to spend them with since he doesn’t have any family. The idea of him being alone bothers me. A lot.

So much, in fact, that I decide to bring it up.

Damon leads us away from the cabin and toward the woods. “This way,” he says, pointing out a path.

“I can’t believe how fast this year has flown by. It’s going to be Christmas before you know it.”

He merely nods.

“Any holiday plans this year?” I ask, looking over at his chiseled profile. I suck in a breath, admiring him. He’s really far too handsome for his own good.

“Not really,” he responds. “Christmas is just like any other day, you know?”

My chest tightens. It’s not, though. It should be spent with friends and family, exchanging gifts, eating together, making memories. Damon Archer doesn’t have that and my heart breaks a little for him.

He glances over at me. “I bet the Rossi’s all gather together and celebrate, huh?”

“Yes. We all go to Sicily to be with Mom and Dad. It’s magical over there during the holidays—all decorated and there are so many traditions everyone follows.”

“Like what?” he asks, looking interested.

“Well, outside of the churches, they hold live nativities and they light bonfires to keep baby Jesus warm. And there are processions. A big one is for Santa Lucia in Syracuse and the streets are filled with candles and poinsettias. December in Sicily is amazing.”

“It sounds nice,” he says, voice turning quieter, thoughtful.

“It is. But as long as I’m with my family, I don’t care where we are.” I briefly hesitate then blurt out, “You know, you’re always welcome to join us.”

For a long moment, he doesn’t say anything and I begin to feel foolish for offering. But then he reaches for my hand, threading his fingers through mine and says, “Thank you. That’s a very sweet offer.”

I squeeze my eyes closed and try to ignore the way I’m responding to him…to his touch…to his words. I like him way more than I should and I feel myself moving into very dangerous territory.

This is supposed to be a fling, I sternly remind myself.

Well, if that’s all it is, then what the hell are we doing on a hike? We should be in bed. I’m ready for round two and I need to let him know, just in case he’s holding back because he thinks he might hurt me.

I abruptly stop walking, yank him closer and look up into his surprised eyes. Not wanting to waste one more second, I grab his leather coat and push up onto my toes. “Put your mouth on mine, Damon,” I order huskily.

Heat flares between us and I don’t have to ask twice. His mouth crashes against mine and it’s a scorching kiss full of need. He lifts me up off the ground and I wrap my legs around his waist. We devour each other and I roll my hips against his, letting him know I want him. Now.

Passion consumes us. Pushing my back against a nearby tree, he slips a hand straight down my panties and I shamelessly rub against him.

“Oh, shit, sweetheart. You’re so wet.”

My fingers curl into his jacket, my nails no doubt leaving half moon-shaped marks in the leather. He’s stroking me, creating an absolute frenzy, and I whimper when he slides his fingers inside my soaked core. I’m slick and aching, wanting the release that only he can provide.

“God, Damon…please…” I moan, his fingers thrusting and working my clit at the same time.

“What do you need, sweetheart?”

He’s going to make me say it, to tell him, and this time I have zero shame or hesitation. Reaching down, I wrap my hand around his hard cock and squeeze. “I want your cock deep in my pussy. Now,” I demand.

My quick, naughty reply must surprise him because his fingers stop moving and he smiles against my lips.

“That’s my girl. Never hold back telling me what you want.”

“And what do you want?” I fire back, palming him more firmly.

“Fuck, babe, I want it all,” he rasps, ripping my sweats and panties off.

I’m tugging at his pants, fumbling to get them down as quickly as possible because I’m salivating for this man. Hot and desperate and so full of wanton desire. “I want that, too.”

He helps me shove them down and his glorious cock springs free. Lifting me higher, his engorged tip touches my entrance and I grasp his shoulders tightly and sink down as he thrusts up.

We both let out a low groan and I tighten my legs around his waist, my back propped against the rough bark. But the coat protects it and I lift up then plunge back down, taking him to the hilt.

“I need you,” I whisper against his lips. “Hard and fast. Please…”

“Then that’s what you’ll get,” he assures me. “Hold on, sweetheart.”

He grabs my hips, fingers digging into my sides, and then starts thrusting up. This time, he doesn’t hold back and I gasp. Maybe it’s a little too much but, oh, my God, it feels amazing. Slightly wild and unrestrained, his powerful hips pump, stretching me to the max, making me take every single inch.

It’s rough and all brutal strength, and I love it. Even better than the night before.

“Yes, oh, God, yes,” I cry, pulling him home with every single hard thrust. I feel like I’m going to burst into a ray of light.

I have no idea how he can manage to hold me up, angle our bodies just right and keep pounding into me, but I don’t care. He is clearly multi-talented because he also manages to find my sweet spot, hitting it again and again. I cry out, tightening my arms around him, clinging to his big, strong body for dear life. My pussy clenches hard, milking him, and I drop my head back as my release slams into me with the force of a hurricane.

Yep, Hurricane Archer just landed and I scream his name to the nearly-bare branches of the trees above us.

I can feel the moment his control snaps and it’s delicious. He curses, groans against my neck and bites the soft skin there, immediately soothing it with his tongue as his entire body shudders and erupts.

But then I notice a different sensation. It belatedly occurs to me that he just exploded inside me…without protection. My eyes squeeze closed and we rock against each other as he fills me, coming hard. Wet, hot, pulsing spurts.

The idea of getting pregnant suddenly becomes very real. And if we only promised each other a few days then what the hell are we doing?

That’s what my logical side says. But my pussy is weeping and squeezing him tightly, and she’s fucking deliriously happy. I suppose she’s always been an illogical hussy.

Well, what’s done is done. He lifts his head and our gazes lock, both of us knowing the possible ramifications of what we just did. But he doesn’t pull out, just stays seated deep inside me, and then he captures my mouth in a slow, deep kiss that makes my toes curl.

Without a doubt, I know I’m falling for him. And I’m falling so damn hard and fast, it’s scary. For a long moment, we hold each other and keep kissing as though our very lives depended on it. After what feels like forever, he slowly lifts me up, pulling out and sets me back on my feet.

“We didn’t use anything,” I whisper.

“I know better. I’m sorry. If anything happens?—”

“We’ll figure it out,” I interrupt, reaching down to grab my panties and slipping them back on. It’s hot, sticky and wet between my legs, but I try to ignore it. It’s sort of hard to ignore his semen dripping out of my body, though, but I do my best to act casual.

After we’re fully dressed again, he pulls me close and kisses me hard.

“I shouldn’t have taken you bare and I never do that. I want you to know I’m clean and haven’t had unprotected sex since Caitlin.”

“Caitlin?” I frown.

“My old girlfriend. We dated five years ago.”

“Oh.” I mean, what the hell am I supposed to say to that? We just had ridiculously amazing sex without a condom and now he’s telling me his old girlfriend’s name when I could possibly be pregnant.

My face falls.

“Carlotta?”

“Hmm?”

“Look at me, sweetheart.”

When I don’t move, he places a couple of fingers under my chin, lifting it up, forcing me to make eye contact.

“If anything happens, I won’t abandon you.”

I nod, grateful, but at the same time, stewing in jealousy over a girl he slept with five years ago. It’s silly and doesn’t make any logical sense. Especially since we’ve promised each other nothing. Well, nothing but a few glorious days of fucking.

Yet, I can feel myself wanting more—needing more—from him. And that’s leading me into very dangerous territory.

“There are plenty of options nowadays,” I say absently, even though I know I’d never go through with an abortion. Ending the life of an innocent baby? No way. The guilt would haunt me forever. Plus, the idea of a child that is half me and half him…

I chew on my lower lip, liking the idea far more than I should.

Damon doesn’t comment and we start walking again. With each step, I’m reminded of what we just did. I’m sore and my panties are soaked. Walking away from this without getting knocked up would be a miracle because that man just fucked me so hard my legs are jelly and my vision is still hazy.

In my head, I quickly calculate where I am in my cycle and if pregnancy is even a real possibility.

Fuck. The answer is yes. A very resounding yes. Honestly, I don’t think we could have scheduled a better time to do it because I should be ovulating right now. Biting down on my fingernail, I realize five minutes of getting pounded against a tree might’ve just changed the entire course of my life.

And yet I don’t regret one single moment. In fact, if having his baby means keeping Damon in my life then I’m fine with that. Because I’ve come to realize he’s a wounded man and there’s nothing I want more than to help him.

I know better than anyone that sometimes family can help in the most miraculous way. They give you a home and a place where you can always safely retreat and regroup after the world becomes too harsh. They don’t judge you and they love you fiercely.

Maybe that’s exactly what Damon needs. A good family who will embrace him.