“I don’t care about the ring, Summer,” she insisted.
Summer’s fingers tangled in the silky locks of her hair. He took her mouth with erotic gentleness, the kiss tasting of salt and heat. Finishing the kiss with a gentle nuzzle, he whispered, “I love you, Red.”
She began a slow descent, placing strategic kisses down the center of his hard stomach, shedding him of his jeans. Licking and nibbling, enveloped in his scent, she resisted his insistent tugging on her arms, whispering, “I love you. I want to taste you.”
A long purr resonating in her throat enticed him to comply, parting her lips to lick the hard, silky flesh. She took him into the warm suction of her mouth, loving him, tasting him, devouring him. Glancing upward, she grinned, seductively behind his broad tip.
“Christ, that’s it, Red. No more fucking around. I need to make love to you. Now.” His self-control vanished, clasping her by the arms and hauling her to the bed.
Grappling roughly, her clothes were stripped from her body in a feverish rush and strewn across the room. His fingers dug into her thighs, pinning them wide open. The dominating mood drew a low groan. Summer parted her wet flesh with one swipe of his tongue, just one, only one, before crawling up her body. She gasped as he buried himself inside in one strong thrust. He withdrew to the tip, plunged again, rooting deep.
There would be time for sweet tenderness, but at that moment Carrie Ann was engulfed in a sensory overload, urgent to hurry the rhythm. Her hips rocked upward to firmly greet him, but Summer set the pace, reining in his rush. He spoke in a dreamlike tone, telling her how much he loved her, how good he was going to treat her, how much he wanted to start a family.
Stringing her tight, he withdrew slowly, rolling her on her stomach. His hands slicked over the thin film of moisture on her back, gripping her hips, teasing her, torturing her before giving her full penetration. He hunched over her, gently, tenderly, his teeth closed over the curve of her shoulder. His fingers moved beneath her, turning precise circles over her wet center, pursuing her pleasure.
He was all around her, inside her, taking ownership of her mind, body and soul. Words tumbled from her mouth I love you. Now, Summer, yes. He responded to each pulse of her muscles, quickening his thrusts. With every withdraw he shunted deeper, taking her higher, cresting a summit she’d never climbed. Sheer ecstasy.
His body jerked, contracting with his own release. Rejoicing in the delivery of slick heat, her strength disintegrated, collapsing on the bed. Holding his weight, he lowered over her. His mouth touched her back, sending shivers down her spine. Summer eased them to their sides, coiling his arms around her, petting and stroking. Their breathing began to regulate as the tremors diminished, leaving them in a sedated state of rapture. They stared at each other, smiling, allowing the realization to sink in.
Summer’s fingers speared through the silky strands of her hair. His simmering gaze drifted over her in a slow pleasing inspection. Carrie Ann tucked her toes between his calves, playing with the soft hair. Not giving one thought to the slickness between her thighs.
“I’m going to be so good to you. Forever, Red. Forever.”
Chapter Fourteen
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In the chaos of the weeks that followed, Ryan Summer and Carrie Ann Lowell became known to the world as Ry-Ann.
As much as they loved spending quiet nights at home, Summer loved taking her out. And paparazzi followed then everywhere. He was accustomed to a sea of cameras pointed at his face, but it took some getting used to for Carrie Ann. There were no secret agendas or games played for the benefit of publicity. Summer simply refused to let anything get in his way of living his life, their life, as a couple.
They enjoyed romantic dinners, days at the beach, a concert, all under the watchful scrutiny of the public eye. Amidst all the madness, Carrie Ann relished every day that followed, each one more than the day before. Summer was polished yet rugged, warm and funny yet brilliantly smart and perceptive. Not only was he an icon on the silver screen, he was savvy and hard-nosed when it came to the business side of his career. Layers peeled back, little by little, exposing his generosity, poignant and telling, yet never brash or showy.
Carrie Ann previously arranged for two weeks of vacation, which she easily extended to a three, thanks to months of accrued holiday leave and sick days. Luckily, her schedule wasn’t pressing and work would wait for a few more weeks. However, her father was another story.
Every time Carrie Ann sent a text to her dad, attempting to get together, he brushed her off using work as an excuse. Summer agreed to keep their engagement private until she could share the news with her father. It would be a delicate subject and one she had no intention of handling via a text message or phone call.
However, they made one exception, immediately phoning Shayla and John the next morning. Cheers of misty emotions and sappy congratulations erupted like a corked bottle of bubbly on New Year’s Eve. Smiles filled the small cellphone screen as the couples celebrated via Facetime making it a breakfast to remember. They promised to get together for a double date, or a weekend getaway as soon as their schedules permitted.
Carrie Ann left another message for her father, the fourth one in two days. “Dad, I’d appreciate it if you could make time to have lunch or dinner with me. I need to talk to you. It’s important.” She received a text several hours later, indicating he was bogged down with a case and couldn’t give her a definitive day or time.
“Maybe I should’ve learned how to golf,” she grumbled, shaking her head in disappointment.
“He knows what’s coming, Carrie Ann. He’ll either accept it or he won’t. For your sake, I hope he does. Maybe he needs this time to come to terms with the idea.”
“Yeah, well, what he needs is to pull his head out of his ass. He’s actually pissing me off. The man is not too busy to see me, he just uses work as an excuse not to deal with me. He always has.”
“It’s just his way, Red. He’s not exactly a warm and fuzzy kind of guy.”
“Are you standing up for him?”
“Absolutely not! He’s dug his own hole, now he gets to figure out how to climb out.” Summer pressed a kiss of affection to her bare shoulder. “I simply refuse to be the driving wedge between you and you father. I’m sure that’s what he’s hoping for and I won’t give him the pleasure of letting him come between us.”
Confronting Jason proved to be nearly as difficult as calling her father. With Summer by her side, Carrie Ann curtly recapped the issue regarding her champagne being roofied, highlighting the important detail that he was the one who handed her the drink.
After ten full seconds of silence, cold enough to turn water to ice, Jason responded, “I have no idea how your drink got drugged. Are you implying that I spiked your drink?” Though he tried to filter the anger in his voice, the resentment and shock came through loud and clear. “Maybe you should be questioning Ryan. He’s the guy you went home with…not me.”
“I’m not implying anything, Jason,” The surety in her tone nonexistent, speaking into the small speaker of her cellphone resting in the palm of her hand.
Summer promptly interjected, “Jason, this is Ryan. I’m sitting right here with Carrie Ann. We’re trying to get to the bottom of this. I’m sure you can understand the seriousness of the situation. The fact is, Carrie Ann had two glasses of champagne and you were the person who handed her the drinks. Against my suggestion, she wanted to talk with you before going to the authorities.”
A hint of compunction slithered across her shoulder, giving a sideways glance to Summer. He was so adamant about Jason’s guilt, yet she still refused to believe Jason would drug her. Or anyone else for that matter. He was a genuinely nice guy…or so she thought. Summer’s insistence was muddied by a streak of jealously and a rigid dose of protectiveness. Which to her own surprise turned her on more than she’d care to admit.