Beautiful Failure (19 page)

“It’s okay to have a soft side...” He releases my lip and kisses me until I lose all sense of consciousness, until everything around me is a blur.

The next thing I feel is him picking me up and placing me onto the chaise. He gives me some directions, something about “move your right arm like this and put your left one like that,” but I’m still in a daze so all I can do is stare at him.

Shaking his head, he repositions me—propping my right arm behind my head, placing my left arm against a pillow. He drags the elastic band away from my ponytail—letting my hair fall over my shoulders, and then he adjusts my legs so they’re crossed over one another.

“I love your lips...” He presses a finger against my mouth. “They’re the first thing I noticed when I saw you.”

He tugs on a few strands of my hair and sighs. “You’re beyond beautiful.” He kisses me one last time before walking to his canvas. “You’re fucking perfect...”

My heart is seconds away from jumping out of my chest. It’s not used to whatever the hell is going on and I’m too mesmerized to stop it.

I watch as Carter pulls a stool in front of his canvas and brings one of the paintbrushes to his mouth. With his eyes on mine, he licks the end of the brush—slowly dragging his tongue across each bristle.

“Be still, Emerald,” he says, and I wonder if I’m blushing red all over.

I’ve been naked in front of a guy before, but this moment makes me feel so much more exposed and I can’t stop shaking.

“Emerald...” He sets his brush down. “
Be still
.”

I blink, telling myself to pretend like he’s any other guy—like he’s a former sponsor that I’m simply using for personal gain, but it doesn’t work.

My trembling is here to stay and my heart is beating so loudly that I’m sure he can hear it.

Shaking his head, Carter sighs and stands up. He walks over to me and helps me to sit up so he can sit next to me.

Running his fingers through my hair, he smiles. “I’m not sure how to interpret the nervous side of you.”

“I’m
not
nervous...” I bite my tongue as he takes one of my nipples into his mouth, sucking it.

“
Yes you are
.” He plants a kiss on my other breast. “But why?”

I don’t answer because I have no idea.

I start thinking of ways that I can insult him, ways that I can show him that my sarcastic quips are stocked and ready for release at all times, but before I can say a word, he’s kissing me.

Keeping his lips attached to mine, he lays me across the couch and slowly moves on top of me. For a brief second, he stops to take his shirt off, but his lips quickly find their way to mine again.

My hands are in his hair and I’m moaning as his kisses start to move away from my mouth and down to my breasts.

“Condoms...” I shut my eyes and whisper. “I...” I can’t focus when he swirls his tongue around my navel. “I left them in my purse...On the table.”

He kisses my navel again instead of getting up, and I blink my eyes open—hoping that he’ll hurry up and grab my purse.

He doesn’t.

He sits up and stares into my eyes—watching me pant and tremble in anticipation.

“Are you going to get them?” I’m confused.

He shakes his head. “
No
.” He lifts my legs and places them over his shoulder.

Looking into my eyes one last time, he presses his mouth against the inside of my thighs and slowly kisses his way to my clit. Gripping my legs tightly, he slips his tongue in and out of me—swirling it around in circles.

I moan as he pushes one of his fingers inside of me—forcing it deeper and deeper.

“
Carter...Please...Slow down...
” I suck in a breath as he moves two fingers in and out of me, as he sucks my wet lips into his mouth—kissing them just as passionately as he kisses the ones on my face,

I grab onto the pillow beneath me, damn near shredding the fabric with my nails, and he continues to ignore my breathless pleas.

I writhe against his mouth—screaming, begging for him to stop fucking me so intensely, to stop torturing my swollen clit with his tongue.

Each time I squirm, he tightens his grip on my legs and increases the pressure of his kisses.

“Wait....Wait...I’m going to cum...” I try to move away from him, try to grip his head and push him away, but he continues to fuck me with his mouth and I can’t hold the tremors back.

I let go and let the most powerful orgasm I’ve ever felt roll through me—again and again.

I’m screaming out of pure pleasure—something I’ve never done before, and no matter how hard I try to regain control of body’s reactions I can’t.

By the time I come down from my high, I realize I’m not lying on the couch anymore. I’m sitting between Carter’s legs in a tub of running water.

He’s lathering shampoo into my hair and planting kisses against my shoulders. My back is to him, but I can perfectly picture his face and how he looks right now.

“You’re beautiful when you cum,” he whispers. “Do you know that?”

I blink.

“And you’re extremely sexy when you’re being shy.” He kisses my back. “But I prefer when you’re actually talking. Are you going to say anything else tonight?”

I shake my head and he laughs.

“Was it that terrible?”

I murmur something unintelligible, earning another low laugh from him. 

I’m not sure how long he keeps me there or how long he alternates between kissing and washing me, but the next thing I know we’re in his bed. Cuddling.

And I
like
it.

With the guys in the past, the mere thought of their arms wrapped around my waist as we slept was enough to make me flinch, but right now, in this moment, I don’t want Carter to ever let me go.

“Are you sleeping?” he whispers.

“No...”

“Good.” He rolls me over so I’m lying on top of him. Blowing an errant strand of hair away from my face, he says, “Tell me something personal.”

“Like what?”

“Something you’ve never told anyone else.”

“Something positive or something negative?”

“Something you’re only telling me.”

“Okay.” I sigh, debating whether I should tell him the first thing that came to my mind. “I slept with a married man once...”

He nods slowly and pushes my head against his chest. “How did that happen?”

“
How
? Don’t you mean,
Why
?”

“No. Asking
why
would imply that I’m judging you.
How
implies that I want to understand.”

“Oh...Well, I was trying to be like—” I pause. “My mom was an escort. It was her career. I honestly idolized her and wanted to be just like her.”

He starts to rub my back.

I squeeze my eyes shut as I reflect. “He was a friend of one of her clients. She told me that he’d come in town unexpectedly and that I should hang out with him while she dealt with the other guy.”

“She also told me that he was loaded and that he would probably pay me a lot if I...you know. So, I did him and it really wasn’t that bad. I
liked
it, but when he pulled out his wallet to pay me I saw a photo of his family. He had a wife, two sons, and a daughter who looked like she was my age...”

“I felt so guilty, so bad for his wife. I told my mom about it when she came home—after she found me vomiting over the toilet. I expected her to say she had no idea that he was married. I thought she was going to suggest that we have a toast to that asshole and talk bad about him to make me feel better, but she said
most
of her clients were married and that I didn’t do anything wrong...You sure you don’t want to change that
how
to a
why
now?”

“No.”

I lie there in silence, listening to the beat of his heart, wondering if what I’ve admitted is too much.

“Did you ever try to tell your friends that story back then?”

“I didn’t have anybody to tell. Friends were
overrated
.”

“How old were you when it happened?” He continues to caress me.

“Seventeen...Are you going to ask me how many men I’ve slept with?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t care.” He trails his finger down my spine. “And it doesn’t matter.”

“Five.”

He laughs softly. “It doesn’t matter, Emerald.”

“I just wanted you to know anyway. Just in case...”

“Just in case
what
?”

“You want to end whatever this is right now.”

He lifts my head and whispers against my lips, “Fifteen.”

“
Fifteen
?!”

“Are you
judging
me?”

“
Hell yeah
, I’m judging you.” I laugh and he laughs with me until we can’t laugh anymore.

When the silence returns, I kiss him and whisper, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For asking how instead of why...”

He smiles and repositions me so I’m on my side and we’re cuddling again. “Get some sleep.”

“Can you tell me something personal first? Like why you don’t have a job?”

“I
do
have a job.” He lets out a low laugh and holds me tighter. “But that’s something other people know, not something personally tailored for you.”

“Then tell me something personalized for me.”

“Contrary to what I said at the lake, you’re the first girl I haven’t slept with immediately after a first encounter.”

“That’s a
good
thing?”

“Yes.” His kisses my neck. “A
very
good thing.”

“Y
ou haven’t fucked him yet?” Sarah practically loses it. “What the hell are you waiting for? He’s
beyond
sexy!”

“It’s not me, it’s him. We’ve done stuff, we just haven’t gone all the way.”

“Has he at least eaten you out?”

“
What
?!”

“Do I need to be proper?” She rolls her eyes. “Has he performed cunnilingus whilst burying his head in your vagina? Did he pleasure thee with his tongue?”

I laugh and stand up as Carter’s car pulls into the lot “Yes, he did.
Several
times.”

“Is that why you’ve been wobbling on stage so much lately? Is it that good?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,
Sparkle
.” I put my finger against my lips—signaling for her to shut up since Carter is opening the door right in front of us.

“Emerald.” He kisses my lips before letting me inside.

“Goodbye, Raven!” Sarah calls out. “I hope Carter fucks you with his mouth again tonight!”

I gasp, blushing bright red as Carter shuts my door.

I flip Sarah the middle finger through the window, but she throws it back and mouths, “I love you.”

As Carter drives away, I keep my head turned towards the window—hoping he won’t say anything about what Sarah said. We’re halfway across the first county line when he places his hand on my thigh and says my name.

I don’t answer.

“Emerald?” The smile in his voice is evident.

“Yes?”

“How was your day at work?”

“Great.”

“Anything interesting happen?”

“Nope.”

“Is it safe to say the highlight of your day was telling your friend I fucked you with my mouth?”

“That was
not
a highlight.” I turn around to face him, knowing that I’m blushing again. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“I’m not.” He grins as we approach a stoplight. “I was just wondering what I needed to say to get you to finally turn around and look at me. I feel like I’ve been driving alone for the past forty five minutes.”

“Sorry.”

He kisses me. “It’s okay. Seriously, how was your day?”

“Nothing special.” I see the glare of the green light ahead of us and notice him moving away from me so he can drive, but I put my hand over the gears. “Can I tell you something else personal?”

“Right now?”

I nod.

He looks into his rearview mirror—probably noticing that we’re the only car on the road, so he puts the car in park. “I’m listening.”

“I think I really like you.”

“You said something
personal
, not something obvious.”

“No.” I shake my head. “You don’t understand. I
like
you.”

He looks confused.

“I’ve never just
liked
anyone before. I’ve always pretended that I did so I could use them for something or get something out of them down the line. I thought that was how it was supposed to be. But with you, I don’t want anything but
more
of you...”

For years, I’ve read about these types of emotions in books—watched it in movies, but I’ve always thought that they were confined to the realm of fiction. Whenever I’d see couples smiling and laughing together, I’d thought they were putting on a show for the world—pretending to enact things they’d only read about.

“I think about you during random times of the day and I really want to call or text you, but I don’t because I’m not sure if that’s right or not...I jump sometimes when you call me at night—literally
jump
and get excited because I know we’re going to be talking and laughing for hours. And I don’t think I’ve ever lost my smile when you pick me up and take me to and from work. I actually hate when the ride comes to an end. The only thing that makes me smile again is knowing that I’ll be back with you in a matter of hours. I just...I
really
like you.” I make myself stop. That babble was so incoherent and disjointed that I’m shocked he isn’t laughing in my face right now.

He’s probably laughing on the inside—wondering how to tell me that I’m a certified psycho and how I need to purchase a bus pass for the rest of the summer.

Several minutes pass without him saying a word, with him just staring at me, so I start to turn away.

“Stop.” He brushes his thumb against my lips. “Is that everything?”

“Yes. Are you going to tell me that I’m crazy now?”

“No.” He presses his lips against mine, whispering against my mouth, “I’m going to tell you that I really like you too.” He kisses me again, but then he tears his mouth away. “I need you to spend the night with me tonight. I don’t want to take you home.”