24
MY PANTS HAVE LEFT THE
BUILDING
Carter
BY THE TIME WE LEAVE Hank’s, the sun is already dipping into the horizon. I’m typically someone who loves winter—present year excluded; this shit is too cold for me—because hockey has always been my life, but I hate the shorter days, the eeting hours of sunlight. I always feel like I’m rushing to get things done before the sun sets, like right now.
We’ve got one more stop on our date that depends on daylight before we head back to my house for dinner and cuddles. Potentially naked cuddles. I haven’t decided yet. I’ve realized slow isn’t a word in our vocabulary, but sex is something I can hold o until we’re both ready to take that step.
“When’s the last time you skated?”
“Yesterday,” Olivia answers distractedly.
We’re not far from my place, and she’s got her face nearly pressed against the window as she stares out at Capilano Lake. It’s always breathtaking, but especially now, faded rays of sunshine glittering o the ice.
Olivia manages to pull her gaze away. “I coach Alannah’s hockey team.”
“You—” I accidentally slam on the brakes, bracketing my arm across Olivia’s chest to catch her. “Sorry, sorry. I just—you just—I think I might love you,” I joke, except I’m possibly, maybe, halfway serious. “That’s amazing. Can I come see a game?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because all you’ll do is distract the girls and the moms.”
“Hmm. I see your point. This face is highly distracting. Don’t get me started on this body.”
God, I love when she rolls her eyes. So tiny and ferocious. “You’re so ridiculously full of yourself it’s ridiculous, Beckett.”
The tip of my nger dances up her thigh. “You can be full of me too if you play your cards right.”
She laughs and shoves my hand o her thigh, only to twine her ngers with mine and set them back in her lap. “Who the hell raised you?”
“Mama Beckett would take oense to that, Olivia.” She’d apologize profusely and tell me to keep my filthy mouth shut.
Which reminds me, Mom’s gonna have a eld day when those pictures of Olivia and me hit the news. I make a mental note to pretend like I have no idea what she’s talking about when she inevitably calls me about it, just to grind her gears.
Once the car is parked, I tug Olivia over to a bench overlooking the lake. It’s covered in a thick layer of glass-like ice, the slowly sinking sun making it dazzle like crystal. The snow-dusted pines shine in the sleek reection, and everything is white, powder blue, and deep forest green.
Olivia’s so enthralled she doesn’t notice her skates in my hands until I kneel at her feet. When she smiles, it’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen. “We’re going skating? Here?”
“You got it, princess. You said you grew up doing this back home. Figured this might be a nice way to bring a bit of home to you.”
Her eyes shine with gratitude. “Thank you, Carter. This is, hands down, the best date ever.”
My chest pus with pride. “Knew I’d kill my rst date.”
With our skates on, I help Olivia down to the ice and watch as she takes it all in, speechless.
Most areas of Vancouver don’t typically get cold enough to freeze over so completely, but this winter is an exception. Right now, as Olivia twirls slowly,
gazing with wonder out at all this little slice of heaven has to oer, I couldn’t be more grateful for the cold.
“I’ve never seen something so beautiful.” Her smile is so dazzling, it hits me right in the stomach like a sucker punch.
“Yeah. Me neither.”
Her lashes utter as she takes her bottom lip between her teeth. “Who do you
think is a better skater, me or you?”
I sco. “Please. I’m way faster.”
“I said better, not faster.” She skates away from me, leaning forward on one foot before she jumps into the air, spins, and lands on her feet. She sends up a spray of snow when she stops in front of me. “Hockey on the weekends and gure skating during the week until I was ten.”
“I’ll take your ass to the ground, Parker.”
There’s a happy thump in my chest when Olivia throws her arms around my neck. She’s nally given up that shyness from earlier today. I love seeing her like this, her walls coming down, her simply… being herself, with me. Me, being myself with her. It’s easy.
I rub the tip of my nose against hers. “Wanna race?”
“No way. Your legs are, like, three times the length of mine.” She spins away from me. “Unfair advantage.”
I skate toward her, loving the way her hips swing with every backward stride.
“Afraid I’ll win?”
“I could skate circles around you, Mr. Beckett.”
I incline my head toward the small green boathouse that sits in the middle of the lake, connected from one shore to the next by a narrow wooden dock. “First one there and back.”
Her ngers crawl up my chest. “When I win, will you rub my feet? They’re gonna be sore from kicking your ass.”
I capture her mouth with mine. “So arrogant.”
“Guess you’re rubbing o on me.”
“Oh, I’ll fucking rub o on you.” I catch Olivia’s waist as she tries to spin away from me, hauling her right back. “We gonna do this or what, pip-squeak?”
“Denitely.” She touches her lips to the corner of my mouth. “But there’s something I want to do before I humiliate you.”
I don’t have time to ask what that is before her mouth opens on mine. Hot, wet tongue lashes, nipping teeth and bruising grips, this kiss is nothing but starved. I’m about to toss my ridiculous idea of anything other than naked cuddles out the window when she starts tugging on my zipper.
“What do you think you’re doing, Miss Parker?” I barely manage the words, because she slips her hand down my pants and wraps her st around my cock, which is now hard as fuck. “Fuck.”
“Can’t a girl put her hands on her man?”
“Yup. Yeah. That’s… fuck. Hands.” My head whips between the trees and my car. Do I wanna push her up against a tree and fuck her, or watch her slip around on the leather seats in the back of the Benz? Tree is more accessible. Do we need to take our skates o? No, I think I can make it work. I’ve got thighs of
steel.
“Carter?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“You’re gonna lose.”
“What?” I nearly cry when her hand disappears. “What are you—Olivia!”
Her piercing cackle echoes across the lake as she takes o like lightning. I’m too stunned to care when my jeans start slipping over my ass, and I’m proud to say that by the time Olivia reaches the boathouse and starts ying back toward
me, my pants are around my ankles.
Because that girl can fucking skate.
She’s still laughing like a hyena when she jumps into my arms and crashes her lips against mine. “Ready to rub my feet?”
I’m ready to rub something, that’s for fucking sure.
I DON’T THINK I’VE EVER realized the power a single person could have on someone. Because here on my balcony, with Olivia’s warm body tucked into mine, her cheek pressed to my racing heart, I’ve never been happier. There’s no
part of me that wants to climb on a plane in the morning and leave for three days, and the realization is staggering.
The awless beauty sprawled out in my lap is decked out in my clothes, head to toe. My Vipers hoodie, a pair of sweats that swallow her legs, my thickest socks covering her feet as we curl up next to the roaring re, Olivia with a cup of the tea I ran out to buy this morning so she can have it whenever she’s here.
Every minute of this day has been perfect, from Olivia’s hand in mine as we skated across the lake, to the way she stood by my side at the stove, watching me cook dinner, right down to the way she tightly wrapped her arms around me when I showed her the stash of tea I’d run out to buy just for her.
I pull the elastic from her braid and run my ngers through her curls. “Hank didn’t scare you o today, did he?”
“Are you kidding? That guy really amps up your cool factor. His smut collection is the most impressive thing I’ve ever seen.”
Right. My eighty-three-year-old best friend and my… Olivia… might have started an impromptu book club today. They’re starting with some book called Follow Me Darkly or something. I have no desire to get tangled up in that, except apparently blindfolds are involved, so, like, maybe.
But still: “My sword of thunder is the most impressive thing you’ve ever seen.”
She tips her head back, wide gaze locking on mine as silence hangs between us. Then she laughs in my face. “You do not call your dick your sword of thunder.”
“I absolutely call my dick my sword of thunder. You know why, Ollie? ’Cause he brings the thunder.” I take her chin in my hand. “I don’t appreciate your laughter right now.”
Folding her lips into her mouth, she pretends to lock them and throw away the key. “You and Hank seem really close. Have you known him your whole life?”
“A little over seven years,” I murmur, wrapping my arms around her, gazing out at the mountains, the stars that paint the sky. “He saved my life.”
“You said that earlier, that his wife did.”
Because she did. I may have never met Ireland, but she saved my life the day Hank found me, and I’ll never think otherwise. But the only people who know how Hank came to be in my life are my family and my very best friends, so maybe that’s why I pause.
“You don’t have to tell me, Carter. You’re allowed to have boundaries, and it’s okay if this is one of them.”
But what if I don’t want to have any boundaries? What if I want to show her all of me?
“The day I met Hank, my dad was in a car accident. It was barely ve in the morning, and the driver was still drunk from the night before.” Grief settles like a heavy weight on my chest, and for a moment, it’s hard to breathe. “He died on impact.”
It’s the smallest, simplest thing, but when one of her hands tangles with mine, and the other moves to lay over my heart, any apprehension I feel melts away. If I want her to know me, well, this is maybe the most important piece of my puzzle.
“I was supposed to play in Calgary the following night. My dad was driving down to watch because it was my rst game as an assistant captain. I oered to y him out but he said he wanted to take the scenic route. I should’ve… I should’ve made him.”
Olivia presses a kiss to my palm. “It’s not your fault, Carter.”
“It’s hard not to think that way sometimes, though. Especially that day.” The only person to ever blame me for my dad’s death is me. It’s a heavy weight to carry, even though I’m not the one who chose to get behind the wheel after drinking all night long. Hell, I’ve seen the struggle in my own sister’s eyes, wondering if our dad would still be here, if he’d one day be able to walk her down the aisle if it weren’t for me playing hockey.
“It was after eleven when my mom’s body nally gave up the ght. I carried her to bed and sat with my sister as she cried herself to sleep. And then I… I went out. By myself. I didn’t want the responsibility of taking care of them when I didn’t know how I’d even be able to take care of myself. Hank was there. Kept cracking fucking blind jokes. I tried to ignore him but he kept throwing peanut
shells at me every time I started to doze o.” I run an agitated hand through my
hair. “I was just fucking…”
“Heartbroken,” Olivia whispers.
“Yeah.” My voice cracks as I hug her tighter. “Just a heartbroken mess. I didn’t think he had any clue who I was. He couldn’t see, after all. And then I made the stupidest decision I’ve ever made. I stood up and grabbed my car keys.”
Olivia sucks in a jagged inhale, swiping away a tear that runs down her cheek.
“Hank slapped his cane against my knee so fast before he stabbed the end of it into my stomach. I remember exactly what he said to me next.”
I think back to that moment, the one that saved my life, and maybe so many more. I remember those light blue eyes moving over me, the fury that I’ve only seen Hank wear that one time as he slipped o his stool, his hands moving over my chest until he found the neck of my shirt and gripped it.
“‘I know you’re not about to drive, Mr. Beckett,’ he said. ‘You’ve had way too much to drink and have too much to lose. There are people here who depend on you. Don’t make a stupid decision that you’ll regret the rest of your life, if you even live to see it, just because you’re hurting right now.’”
Silent tears stream down Olivia’s face as she turns, ngers pressing into my jaw as she presses the softest kiss to my lips.
“That day was the seventh anniversary of Ireland’s death. Hank was sitting there at midnight drinking a glass of chocolate milk because he’d had a dream during his afternoon nap and claimed that his dead wife said somebody might need his help. He’d been sitting there since six in the evening, waiting. Said he knew it was me he was waiting for the second I sank down on the bar stool next to him.”
Olivia snies, hiccupping against my chest. I pull her face up to mine and smile at the way she tries to slap her tears away.
“I’m sorry for crying,” she cries, wrapping her arms around me and burying her face in my neck while I smooth my palm down her hair. “I’m so thankful for
Hank and Ireland and you.”
“Me?”
She nods. “For letting me see the real Carter Beckett. For being the type of man who carries his mom to bed. For having a man in his eighties who loves
dirty books as one of your best friends. I’m grateful to be here with you.”
I’m a little lost for words, so I capture her mouth with a kiss. If I attempt to talk, there’s a good chance that a lot of words I’m not ready to say about how I feel for her are going tumble out, which is ridiculous. Disregarding all the weeks that came before, it’s been one day.
There’s no denying that whatever we’ve got between us feels right. I hope she feels it, too, because in this moment I’m acutely aware that these feelings are going nowhere fast.
For the next hour, we stay by the re, trading stories, laughing quietly while she stretches out opposite me, enjoying the foot rub I’m giving her through my socks. She keeps jerking her foot away and giggling every time I hit a certain spot in her arch, so I peel the thick socks o and throw them over my shoulder, revealing her pink toes.
“Do you have a foot fetish I’m not aware of?” Olivia asks when I press my lips to her arch.
“No. I have a you fetish. And I’m dying to see if your feet are…” I nip her arch. “Ticklish.”
Olivia ies o the back of the couch and nearly hammers me in the face with her foot when my teeth nibble on her sensitive skin. “Stop it! Carter!”
But do I stop? No, of course not. I nd all her ticklish spots, until I’m satised that her laughter is forever ingrained in my brain, and also that she could kick my ass if she really wanted to. Though she be but pint-sized, she is fierce, or whatever the saying is.
“You’re such an ass,” she mutters as she snuggles into my chest.
“Yeah, but I’m your ass.” A rustle draws my attention down below, and I drop my voice, nudging her cheek. I point out at the clearing where a fawn is emerging, each step slow and cautious as it looks around. “Look.”
Olivia gasps, scrambling over my lap to get a better look, gripping the railing.
“Oh my gosh. It’s just a baby.”
A shadow moves behind it, and a much larger deer emerges from the trees, rooting around in the snow. “And there’s Mama.”
“So incredible,” Olivia murmurs wondrously.
“Like you.”
She turns her smile on me. “Are you trying to charm me, Mr. Beckett?”
“I’ve been trying since I met you.”
She slings her arms around my neck, straddling my hips. “You’re getting pretty good at it, as much as it pains me to say. Much better than ‘I wanna put you in the penalty box.’”
“Still can’t believe that didn’t work. But I think if I’d had ve more minutes —”
“I would’ve rearranged your face. Yes, you’re absolutely right.”
“Feisty girl.” I slip my hands beneath the hoodie she wears, palms sliding up her back, and the chill makes her shiver. “You like putting up a ght, and I like it too.” I ick my tongue over the spot below her ear. “Makes me wanna slap your ass and fuck you until you scream.
I think my favorite sound is Olivia’s whimper. I enjoy the way her skin warms with the sound, her body buzzing as my lips move against her neck. I rip the collar of my sweater to the side, exposing her shoulder to the cold air, and cover it with my hot tongue.
“Carter.” There’s that whimper again. Goddamn, I love it.
I pull the hoodie over her head, exposing her soft curves, the gem in her belly when her shirt underneath rides up. It’s getting late and I have a ight in the morning. I know I need to take her home so she can get some sleep before work, but I won’t see her for a few days and I’ll be damned if I’m going to leave this city without a little taste.
So I kiss her stomach, peel those sweatpants o her legs, wrap her around my body, and cart her to the bed, sinking to my knees in front of her.
She threads her ngers through my hair, sting it when her head falls back with a moan as my mouth coasts up the inside of her thigh. There’s a little wet spot in the center of her pale purple panties that makes me want to rip them right o.
So I do. I destroy that scrap of satin and bury my face between her legs like she’s the rst meal I’ve had in days. Olivia collapses on the bed, legs winding around my neck as she pushes me deeper into her, hips arching, crying out for more as I fuck her with my tongue.
She’s coming apart at the seams, melting into my mouth with every ick and slide of my tongue, the way my teeth graze her clit. My ngers crawl beneath her shirt, nding her taut nipples, and when I give one a pinch, she gasps, arching o the bed. Her legs quiver as she yanks on my hair, and I know she’s close.
Climbing to my feet, I ip her over, pulling her to her hands and knees, dragging her shirt up her back and my nger down her spine, watching her shiver. My palm curves over the swell of her full ass, and I dip two ngers inside her, dragging her wetness through her slit until I nd her clit, swollen and begging for attention.
“You’re so wet, Ollie. Do you like when I touch you?”
“Please, Carter.”
“Please what?”
She buries her face in the mattress, hiding the sound she makes. I plow my ngers through her hair, sting it, and I pull her back up.
“Tell me you want me to fuck your pussy with my ngers.”
“Carter,” she whimpers.
“Say it.”
The hushed demand has her gripping the sheets, and when I tease her clit, she sobs, “Fuck my pussy with your ngers, please.”
I sink two ngers inside of her without hesitation, holding her down while I pump in and out. Her ass juts backward, slapping against the heel of my palm as
she begs for more, for harder, faster.
“That’s my girl.”
Fuck, she’s a sight to be seen, ass in the air as she writhes and moans, sting the sheets so hard she starts dragging them right o the mattress. She feels like velvet, plush and soft, so fucking warm, and when those walls tighten around me, I slow my roll, plunging at a deliberately leisurely pace, one that takes all of three seconds to drive her wild.
“Please, Carter,” she cries. “I wanna come.”
“Is that right, gorgeous?”
“Ye-e-esss.” The word is a garbled mess as she shudders, body quaking.
“You wanna come,” I whisper against her ear. “And I want you to earn it.” I release her hair and pull my ngers from her sopping heat.
“What?” Uh-oh. My beautiful girl isn’t happy with me, even less so when I lick her arousal o my ngers.
“Get some pants on. I’ll take you home.”
She slips o the bed and falls to her ass. I barely manage to bite back my snicker, but she looks like she’s ten seconds away from murdering me, and the world needs more Carter Beckett.
I’m waiting by the door when she comes storming down the stairs in my sweatpants and hoodie ve minutes later.
She shoves a nger in my face. “Wipe that arrogant smirk o your face before I wipe it o for you.”
I follow her to the kitchen, watching her gather her things and shove them into her purse. “You’re still mad, huh? But you can’t be. I’m going away for three days. You’re gonna miss me.”
She pins me with a patronizing smile. “And that’s the only reason you’re still breathing right now.”
I tear her coat from her grip the second she pulls it out of the closet, throwing it over my shoulder. Angry Olivia is my favorite Olivia.
I circle her wrists, pinning them to the wall on either side of her head as I work my mouth up her throat. “You want me to fuck you?”
“Screw you,” she tosses out without any real heat. All that heat is stacked in her dark gaze.
“I’d love to. All you have to do is promise me you’ll still be mine in the morning.” Releasing her wrist, I push down her pants and dip my hand between her thighs. “Better yet, tell me who owns this pussy.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Carter.” She pulls my face from her neck, her eyes gleaming. “And I own this pussy.”
“The fuck you do.” I unzip my pants and pull out my hard cock, pressing it against the most addicting pussy in the world as I hoist her up to me. “Try again, princess.”
Her hips arch o the wall, grinding against me. “Right now? You do.”
“That’s fucking right.” I look between us, the way we’re so nearly connected, my throat suddenly thick, chest tight. “I haven’t been with anyone but you, Ollie. It’s just you for me. Nobody else.”
Her hand settles on my cheek. “There’s nobody but you, Carter.”
With a wicked grin, I slap her hands above her head and pin her to the wall with my hips. “I’m about to unleash two weeks of pent-up sexual frustration on you.” I press my mouth below her ear. “You’re gonna have my cum dripping down your legs for the next twelve hours, at least, and that’ll be the only thing that gets me through this trip without you.”
Olivia cries out with unrestrained pleasure when I drive inside her, tears my shoulders apart with her nails as she unravels, and I accidentally put a st through the drywall when I violently come inside of her.
Oops.
