Chapter 22

22

S o meeting Carter's friends wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.

After the semi-rocky start with Luke, and I say semi only because I wasn't sure if he was accusing me of something or simply stating facts. Carter had warned he was aloof and at first impression he was a little gruff but once our dinner had arrived, he talked quite a bit. All of the guys did.

They'd also done what Carter had said they would and had told me stories about Carter's bravery. Some scared me. Some made me proud. And some had me reminding myself he was alive and sitting next to me.

I had a new respect for Carter and his team. I'd grown up with a father in the Army, and I'd been surrounded by military men all my life, but none of them talked to us kids about what they'd truly done. And Carter had certainly never told me about his missions. Hearing about them gave me a newfound admiration.

And also, some understanding.

Each of them had admitted there had been a time or two they hadn't thought they'd make it home. Both terrifying and chilling to hear. They'd also talked about teammates who hadn't made it back. None of them had ever been in a relationship and kept every encounter superficial. By the time dinner was over and we were saying our goodbyes I liked them all and was a little sad they lived so far away. But Carter said we'd come to see them again and they all promised to come down to Georgia to visit.

To which I gave an open invitation to stay at our house. I'd caught myself reverting back to old thinking and referring to my house as mine and Carter's. I'd also told him I loved him and had pretty much jumped headfirst into moving forward. Though it hadn't been talked about again, I think the multiple rounds of sex had communicated this fact more than words could've.

That did not mean I wasn't scared as hell. I was. The thought of losing him again still fresh in my mind and I had doubts he'd really forgiven me. And I knew I hadn't forgiven myself.

We'd already lost too much and I was afraid of losing more if I didn't take this chance. So I was taking it. If in the end I was left in tatters, at least I'd know I tried.

"Babe?" Carter called. "You comin'?"

He was already in bed and I was standing staring out his windows looking at the Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel lit up. He lived on the top floor of a three-story house that had been divided into apartments. His apartment didn't have a balcony, the floor below him did, and the one on the bottom had a deck that opened to the private beach behind the house.

During dinner I'd also learned that Matt owned the apartment house and he'd given Carter a serious break on rent. Now he was giving the same deal to Logan. I was surprised to hear Logan tell me he rented a fully furnished room and had for years. If I'd thought Carter had issues with making commitments, that was only because I hadn't known Logan. He couldn't even commit to furniture.

"You have a beautiful view," I commented.

"I do."

I looked over my shoulder to see Carter on his side, sheets resting at his hips, chest bare, and his eyes were on me.

"I was talking about the bridge at night."

"I wasn't. Come to bed."

How could I pass up that kind of invitation? I couldn't, so I made my way to the bed and crawled in. My ass had barely landed on the mattress when he hauled me to the center, rolled, and settled between my legs.

"Did you have a good day, baby?"

"I did. I like your friends."

"Good."

He brushed a few strands of stray hair off my face and lowered himself to an elbow and took my mouth in a scorching kiss. My hands found his ass and my fingers dug into the hard muscle, pulling him closer. His lips left mine and his face went to my neck, his tongue to my skin, and I loved what he was doing so much my head tilted back.

"You taste so sweet," he murmured against my skin.

The vibration made my nipples tingle and my pussy dampen.

I lost his mouth and his weight when he reared up, grabbed the hem of my tee, forcing my hands above my head. He yanked it off and tossed it aside. Next came my panties. Carter came back down, his hand between us and I felt the head of his dick rubbing my clit.

"You ready for me?"

"Yes."

He guided himself lower, pushing only the tip inside of me and waited.

"Tell me, Laney."

This was new. He'd never demanded this of me, not in all the years we'd been together.

"I love you, Carter."

I watched with rapt attention as his eyes closed and his face got soft. Much like me, he needed the reminder.

"I love you so goddamned much, Laney baby, sometimes it hurts just thinking about it."

He drove in and I moaned.

Then he gave me sweet.

His pace never faltered. Slow, deep thrusts, unhurried, building more than an orgasm. He was building our future. Promising me with his body all that could be ours.

The magic. The beauty. The life we were always meant to have.

And through it all, I gave as good as I got. My hips tipped and matched him stroke for stroke. My hand wandered over his ass, back, and shoulders. Everywhere I could reach. My tongue dueled with his and my breath mingled with his.

"Laney," he groaned when my orgasm hit.

I was beyond words, I was lost in the feel of him. My insides spasmed, my eyes closed, my legs locked around his hips, and my back arched. Beautiful.

With one last powerful thrust, he shoved deep, his dick swelled, and I could feel the ropes of come emptying into me.

"Baby," he whispered and I opened my eyes, meeting his the moment I did. "Do you know?"

"Yes," I answered because I did know.

I knew how much he loved me. I knew he always had. And finally I understood his struggle. He'd been at war. Not in faraway lands, but with himself. Battling his feelings for me and doing what he thought was the right thing, even if it wasn't. He'd truly believed he'd been protecting me. He'd given me what he could.

I used to think it wasn't enough, but now I knew what the alternative was. I'd change nothing. Living half a life with Carter was far better than not having him at all.

"Good."

He was still slowly gliding in and out of me, not breaking our connection. Something he'd do a lot. It didn't matter if our coupling was hard and fast, or soft and slow, he always gave sweet when we were done.

"You were right. I stopped listening." His movements stopped and I continued. "I lost my way and wouldn't let anyone in. I was scared and alone and I didn't want to share my grief. Thank you for bringing me home."

"Laney," he whispered.

"I'd still be out there adrift by myself if you hadn't forced me to talk. You were right to do that. I wasn't strong enough to do it myself. Thank you."

"You're killing me, baby."

"I need you to know, I'm still scared. But with you next to me it helps. Please don't give up on me, even if I try pushing you away."

"I won't, I promise."

This time his vow didn't hurt. It didn't bring up bad memories. Instead it settled in my heart and I made my own promise. To myself. That I'd start listening again. Not to my head or my fears. But to my heart. It knew the truth. And the absolute truth was I'd always love him. We never learned to love each other; we were born to.

Each of us was made to complement the other.

"Good night, honey," I whispered, my eyes getting heavy and my body giving in to exhaustion.

"'Night, baby."

I was lulled by the rhythmic beating of Carter's heart. His weight heavy, his dick still planted deep, and my last thought before I drifted off was, this was my new favorite way to sleep.

"I'm gonna stop by the hotel and drop off the boxes. Do you need anything else before we go home?" Carter asked as he took his exit off the 95.

We were twenty minutes from home and I'd thought a lot about this over the eight-hour drive. We'd spent the last few nights sleeping together again and I suspected with what happened to my car, cameras or not he wouldn't be allowing me to sleep alone until he figured out who had slashed my tires. And the boxes he had contained clothes. The rest he'd left for Logan, including his TV. The sheets were tossed and so were his towels.

"Just bring them to the house," I told him.

"You sure?"

"You gonna let me sleep alone?"

"Not a chance."

"Then I'm sure."

"Wrong answer."

He made a left at the traffic light that would lead him in the direction of the hotel and I was confused.

"What do you mean, wrong answer?"

"I'm not moving my stuff home until you're ready. And me sleepin' next to you because some asshole vandalized your car isn't you being sure. It's you being compliant. Giving in, because you know I want you safe."

I was sure about other stuff, too, but I was worried it was too soon. We'd already moved from slowly fixing us to mach-speed in a few days.

"Do you think it's too soon?" I verbalized my thoughts.

"Doesn't matter what I think."

"Well, I'm asking, so it matters to me."

Carter took his time answering which was annoying as hell. I didn't want his careful consideration; I wanted his raw response.

"I think I've wasted—"

"That's not what I want. I want your honest opinion."

"Then here you go. I don't care when I move my stuff back into our house, because it's just meaningless shit. What matters is where we are. It's about where we go to sleep and where we spend time together. I don't need my clothes back in our closet or my shampoo in the shower to be with you. If it's tomorrow or a week from now, I don't care. Because I know that every night your head's gonna be resting on my chest and my arms will be around you. And that is the only thing that's important to me."

"And what happens when you figure out some stupid teenage punks slashed my tires and I was never in danger?"

"Not saying I'm happy we need to buy you four new tires, but it sure did make shit easier. You being in danger has nothing to do with me being back in our bed."

"What does that mean?" I snapped.

Easier?

"Babe, you weren't gonna let me back in without a fight. One I was prepared to win but I was happy I didn't have to, seeing as you didn't argue. And the only reason you didn't argue was because you were freaked out. Hate to admit it, I never want you scared or in any kind of danger, but me not having to battle your stubborn side made my life a hell of a lot easier."

"I'm rethinking being sure about you moving your stuff back home."

"No, you're not."

He pulled into the lot of the hotel and parked in the same spot he had the last time we'd been there. He was right, I wasn't reconsidering being sure. I wanted him home. But now that he'd called me stubborn I was going to show him just how right he was. And if he kept being smug, I'd remind him I held the championship title for silent treatment.