Charlene Sands - Exquisite Acquisitions

She was going to fix that.

Soon.

* * *

The pool was cool and refreshing against Carter’s skin as his arms sliced through the water with even, steady strokes. Moonlight reflected on the water’s edge. He took a deep breath and ducked his head, swimming with finesse and efficiency. He’d mastered the technique from swims in Wild River as a young boy. Back then, it was all for fun, a way a poor boy had to enjoy himself on a hot summer day. He and his friends would jump off tree branches that overhung the rushing river. They’d yell and holler and hoot with laughter, sometimes egging each other on, sometimes daring each other.

Nowadays, swimming wasn’t so much recreational as it was a means to an end. He swam laps to burn off excess energy. He swam laps when he needed to clear his head for business. And he swam laps to simmer down his rising temperature.

Carter’s temper had skyrocketed this afternoon when he’d found out Rocky had disappeared. After speaking with Fargo, Carter had gone straight to his father’s house, certain the dog would be there. And he’d been right, but he hadn’t expected to find Macy there. That had come as a complete surprise. If Fargo knew Macy was there, he’d given him no indication.

Macy wasn’t held hostage on the ranch-she could go wherever she wanted-but butting in to his personal affairs was another matter, and she’d crossed a line today. He was angrier at her than he was at his father. Why in hell was that? And why in heaven’s name did he feel so damn betrayed?

Macy had good intentions, he reminded himself. But his anger didn’t ebb. Instead his strokes became more deliberate, more intense as he cut through the water.

After a good thirty minutes in the pool, Carter climbed the steps and got out. Water dripped from his body as he reached for a towel on the chaise longue. The midnight air was cool against his heated body, his pulse beating hard from the vigorous swim. He dried himself off and wrapped the towel around his waist then headed inside the house.

Macy should be asleep by now, he thought. It didn’t stop him from pausing behind her bedroom door. He sighed heavy and shook his head. He wasn’t ready to forgive her. He wasn’t even close. Part of him hadn’t wanted her getting involved in his dealings with his drunken father, and another part of him hadn’t wanted Macy to see how shabbily he’d grown up. Shame and humiliation were difficult things to overcome. Even though Carter had become successful and wealthy, that house and that man represented a scarred and painful childhood. He hadn’t wanted Macy to witness that. To see how pathetic his young life had been.

He forced himself to move on, to take the steps that led to his own bedroom. Once inside, he showered and put on his boxer briefs. Climbing into bed, he grabbed the remote and turned on the television. Maybe, by the grace of all things holy, there would be a taped-delay baseball game on.

Five minutes later, a soft knocking sounded on his door. He clicked off the television, rose and went to the door. When he opened it, Macy stood before him in a tight spandex skirt and a sheer white tank top. It was sexier than a thousand-dollar silk negligee. His heart pounded and raw desire bolted through his system. He took a swallow and looked into her gleaming violet eyes. They glistened with so much emotion, he couldn’t turn away.

He offered his hand, palm up, letting her make the choice. “It’s just about sex tonight, Hollywood. I’m still madder than hell at you.”

Macy knew what she wanted. An angry Carter was better than no Carter at all. She didn’t want to spend the night alone and wake up in the morning with an awful sense of loss and guilt. She didn’t want awkward moments between them when they saw each other on the ranch. Carter’s anger was evident on his face and the stony set of his eyes, so if it meant a Wham-Bam-Thank-You-Ma’am night, it would still be the better alternative.

She gulped past a lump in her throat and placed her hand in his. His hand closed over hers instantly and he tightened the hold. A warning shone in his hard eyes and then his brow rose in challenge, but Macy didn’t back down. Carter looked ready to devour her whole, but Macy didn’t fear him. Instead, excited shivers tingled up and down her spine. Carter’s wrath could be thrilling. She knew he’d never hurt her physically, so tonight he would be in charge. He would make love to her, and it would be about raw, hot-blooded, unabashed sex.

He entwined their fingers then led her to the bed. He sat down first, and as she stood above him his gaze bore into her with intense scrutiny. Those steely eyes were not caressing, but rather a pillage of her most private body parts. Her breasts flamed, and below her waist powerful throbbing had her squirming for his touch.

Spreading his legs wide, he drew her between his thighs and clamped his legs tight so that she was trapped and standing over him. “Undress.”

Macy didn’t blink. With trembling fingers, she found the hem of her top and she lifted it up for Carter. “Slow it down, Hollywood.”

Macy took a breath. She thought of the harlot she’d once played onstage in an off-Broadway production. Her character hadn’t undressed, but every movement she’d made on that stage spoke of raw sensual passion. Fortunately for Macy, being with Carter lent itself to sensuality on the highest level, so being a sex kitten for him wasn’t a far stretch. She wanted to please him. She wanted this night to be memorable. For both of them.

She slowed down her movements, rotating her hips with each tug of material, and once the top was off and her breasts were free, another slight movement had them bouncing on her chest.

Carter drew in oxygen, and Macy knew a measure of satisfaction.

“Now, the skirt.”

As soon as Macy reached behind for the zipper, Carter’s hands met her there and he gripped her hips to swivel her around. The unzipping took a second, and then he pulled the skirt down past her hips. Cool air hit her bare bottom first, and a long few seconds passed. Macy looked over her shoulder and caught Carter admiring her backside. Before she could turn around, he placed both hands over her cheeks and his roughened palms stroked her with such finesse that goose bumps broke out all over her body.

She’d never done this before. Given a man free rein over her body. She’d never trusted anyone the way she trusted Carter, but it was more than that, and Macy didn’t want to think about what that more was.

Her nipples hardened. The throbbing between her legs intensified as everything else melted into softness.

Next, Carter splayed his hands on her hips, the spread of his fingers nearly encircling her entire waist. Then he pulled her down onto his lap. She landed with an unladylike thud. “Oh.”

Carter kissed away her surprise. It was a long, leisurely kiss that filled her mouth, their tongues peeking out and touching. When Carter was done, Macy blinked from the thoroughness of his kiss. She felt partially devoured.

He kissed her again and toyed with her breasts, flicking the peaks with his thumb, first one then the other, until she wiggled with tortured delight. It was painfully pleasant, and she was glad Carter hadn’t decided on giving her a quickie before sending her away.

No, this was far more enjoyable. She was completely at his mercy. Not a bad place to be, Macy thought.

“Touch me,” he rasped, as if craving her hands on him.

Macy dug her fingers into the sprinkling of hairs on his chest. He was strong, sturdy, and her explorations grew more and more demanding. She loved stroking his shoulder blades and feeling the power beneath her fingertips. She loved feeling the tight muscles underneath his skin and his flat, tapered torso. She kissed his chest and stroked her tongue over his nipples, moistening them and then blowing them dry until Carter’s mouth twisted with a pleasured groan.

His erection poked her side from underneath his boxers. Macy’s heart raced, and the warmth in her body started to flame.

Carter picked up on her need and lowered her in his arms until she was angled back, held by his one arm. Her backside was stretched across his thighs and her legs rested on the bed. Carter watched as her hair dangled onto the bedsheets, the tresses fanning out beneath her. Then the hand that had played her wonderfully above the waist slid down to the center of her womanhood. She jerked when his flattened palm rubbed against her most sensitive spot. A moan slipped through her lips as he continued to rub her back and forth. Her breaths coming in short, uneven bursts, she rotated her body and jerked in his arms. He was relentless and masterful, and when he slipped his finger inside her, she was gone and lost by the erotic thrusts of her body.

Her release was loud and necessary to her sanity. When she opened her eyes, Carter was there gazing at her with a look of satisfaction and awe. By far, he was the best lover she’d ever had, and she wanted him to think of her in that same way.

He lifted her off him quickly to undress and returned with a condom. He sat in his place on the bed again and set her back on his lap, this time facing him. With his guidance, she straddled him, her legs curled around both sides of his torso.

His voice was heavy, urgent as he kissed her throat and whispered, “Do me, Macy. I can’t wait another minute.”

Macy gave Carter all that she had. She brought her body to his, and their joining was thrilling and beautiful in the way their sensual rhythms matched. Macy gyrated with hips that found their own pace, and he pumped into her with a natural, powerful force. They melded and meshed, frenzied with hot, moist kisses and tender touches that roughened at the height of their release. And then came a long, low groan of completion, a guttural song of satisfaction.

When it was over and their heartbeats returned to normal, Carter lifted her and kissed the nape of her neck as he set her down beside him on the bed. He whispered, “You amaze me.”

Macy was spent and exhausted, but his words spoken in awe already began to renew her hunger for him. He remained on the bed, a sheet of sweat coating his bronzed body and his hair askew from Macy’s roaming hands. “You amaze me, too,” she said softly.

He nodded and stared into her eyes. There would be no basking in the afterglow of lovemaking tonight. No cuddling under the sheets, no hand-holding and sweet words. A deal was a deal, and Carter was still angry with her. She’d come to him tonight for sex. He’d let her inside his room for sex.

He turned to peer straight ahead to a wall that held no particular interest, his profile set with a stubborn slant of his jaw. He was waiting for her to leave, and Macy got the hint. She kissed his shoulder, licking away a moist bead of perspiration with her tongue, then rose from the bed. “Good night, Carter.”

She stepped by him and bent to retrieve her clothes on the floor. As she unfolded her body, her garments gripped in her hands, she felt a slight tugging on a lock of her hair. Before she could turn around, Carter was there, pressed against her back. His voice rough, his fingers gently weaved through the strands of her unruly curls. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To bed.”

His breath caressed the sensitive skin behind her ear. “Your bed’s right here.”

“But, you’re still angry.”

“Furious.”

She whirled around. “I think you’re making a mistake.”

“With you?” He chuckled as he circled his arms around her bare waist and cupped her cheeks. He covered her soft flesh with both hands and fondled her possessively. “If that was a mistake, then sign me up for a thousand more.”

They were coated with perspiration and carried the scent of lovemaking. “That’s…not what I, uh…mean.” Macy was losing her train of thought.

Carter kissed away her words. “We’ll have to agree to disagree, Hollywood,” he said. “And not discuss it anymore. Now, come back to bed, sweet darlin’. The night’s far from over.”

* * *

There were days when Carter didn’t think about Jocelyn at all. Not that he’d ever forget her betrayal or her clever manipulation. It was just a simple fact that Jocelyn Grayson didn’t matter anymore in his life, though the lessons he’d learned from her would last him a lifetime. It wasn’t that far of a stretch for him to give up on the idea of marriage. For one, his parents hadn’t set a good example. His mother had to endure life with his father. And as he’d grown to his teen years, Carter would often ask his uncle why she’d stayed with Riley. His uncle had but one reply-she’d loved him. As if that made all the difference. As if that was the definitive answer.