Grace didn’t wait long to retaliate. She scooped out the last of the crème anglaise, and flung it at Carter.
He dodged, but got a lot on his cheek. The cream was silken smooth, and ran down his face in a perfect teardrop.
Now Grace was out of ammunition. Carter gave her an evil look and took a handful of whipped cream.
Grace’s eyes widened. She put up her arms and ducked, but Carter got her, cream spattering her shirt and hair. He then scooped up another glob—there was a lot left in the bowl.
Grace shook cream off her hands, saw in alarm he wasn’t finished, and took off out the back door.
***
Carter was right behind her. Surely he’d end the game, call Grace to come on back in, help her start cleaning up.
Nope, he kept coming. Grace ran up the hill to the left of the house, away from the lights lining the driveway, out toward the field the bluebonnets turned a vibrant blue-violet in the spring.
Carter, with his longer stride, caught her before she’d gone ten yards. He grabbed her around the waist with one arm, swinging her back to him. Grace tripped on clumps of grass and fell, Carter cradling her as he went down with her.
Grace landed on her back on dry autumn grass, Carter half on top of her. He still had the bowl of cream she’d whipped to perfect, stiff peaks.
The bowl landed next to them, and Carter pulled Grace’s shirt up. Grace was just lamenting that her bra was going to be a sticky mess when he unsnapped it and pushed it out of the way.
A glob of whipped cream landed on her breast, decorating her nipple, which tightened to look like the cream had when she’d finished whipping it.
Carter gave her a wicked look and closed his mouth over her cream-smeared nipple.
His tongue danced, teeth and lips sucking her clean … Grace arched up with a small gasp, her hands seeking his body.
His shirt was in the way. Grace tugged on it as Carter continued licking. She managed to lift the shirt to his shoulders, at last smoothing his hot skin.
Stars marched overhead, the heavens open. Grace focused on the brightest one, unable to remember its name right now, but it hardly mattered. Carter was on her, his hands and mouth bringing her to life.
When he raised his head, Grace scooped her fingers through the cream and smeared some down his nose.
Carter rumbled at her. “I’ll make you pay for that.”
Grace raised up and licked away the cream. “You’re cute.”
“Hey, no one calls me cute, darlin’.”
“All right, you’re hot.”
Grace put one hand behind her head to lie back and admire him. He had fight scars on his face, plus those from falling off horses, and had overall been weathered by Texas sunshine. His hazel eyes glittered in the starlight, his mouth, always hard, was pulled down in one corner by another scar.
Grace reached out and traced that scar. Carter went still. His mouth turned down even more, a frown creasing his brows.
The next thing Grace knew, her shirt and bra were being pulled off over her head. Splat went cream on her chest, cold. Grace jumped, grass against her bare back.
Carter’s fake scowl fled. He chuckled as he bent to her, swirling up the cream with his tongue.
“You taste sweet.” Carter’s voice deepened as it dropped to a whisper. “’Cause you are sweet.”
He closed his eyes, his breath warm as he continued to lick. Grace tried to lie still, to enjoy the wonderment of having Carter, the man she’d been in love with for years, pleasuring her with his mouth.
Her body wouldn’t obey. She rocked a little, her hands on his solid shoulders, fingers sliding to his hair.
Carter kept his hair very short—easier for working and riding—but there was enough silken buzz to delight her fingertips. Carter made a sound low in his throat, and he closed his mouth all the way over her breast.
The cream was about gone from her skin, but Carter kept on, his mouth a hot place. He went slowly, swirling his tongue, pulling back to nip, then taking her breast again.
Warm, easy pleasure. Grace moved her hands to his back, gliding across his skin, pulling him closer.
When Carter lifted his head, Grace almost whimpered in disappointment. Cool air touched her breasts where his mouth had been.
Carter pulled his T-shirt the rest of the way off and dropped it beside him. He came back down to Grace, then he kissed his way to her abdomen.
A dollop of cream landed in her belly button. Grace squeaked as Carter started to lick that as well.
Enough. Grace was the one who was supposed to be bad here. She pushed at his shoulders, locked her legs around him, and tried to shove him off balance.
Carter went over, but only because he wanted to. He landed on his back, square on the T-shirt he’d dropped, as though he’d planned it.
His arms closed around Grace, drawing her on top of him. She looked down at his face that his difficult life couldn’t mar, touched it, then she kissed him.
She tasted the cream she’d sweetened with a little bit of sugar and vanilla, plus the crème anglaise he’d eaten before. Grace deepened the kiss, warmth flooding her body as his arms came around her, and he held her in a true embrace.
Carter kissed her thoroughly, his tongue sweeping into her mouth, his arms strong, possessive. He wrapped a blue-jeaned leg around hers, his strong bare foot caressing her calf.
Carter’s hand in her hair was gentle, a contrast to his forceful kiss. He was a tough man, but also kind in his heart, a protector. The love he gave to Faith was evident and real.
Carter eased the kiss to its end. Grace looked down at him, her breasts firmly against his chest. She felt his heart beating swiftly, the perspiration on his skin that had nothing to do with the warmth of the night.
They looked at each other, stillness and moonlight surrounding them.
“Grace.”
Grace touched her finger to his lips. “Don’t say anything.”
Carter seemed to understand. If they talked about real life, if they broke this spell, the bad and ugly would come rushing in.
The bowl of cream rested on the grass within Grace’s reach. To her satisfaction, it was still half full of whipped cream.
Nice. Grace broke into a smile, scooped up the cream, and plopped it to Carter’s chest.
He jumped, reaching to wipe it off. Grace stilled his hands and pressed her tongue to his flesh.
The tang of Carter complemented the cream. Grace plied her tongue to him as he had to her, licking her way to his nipple. More cream needed. She reached for the bowl without raising her head, then lifted away enough to slather cream to his tightened nipples.
“What are you doing?” he asked in a slow drawl.
Grace flicked her tongue over him. “Being bad,” she said. “Being bad in the grass with Carter Sullivan.”
He shook with silent laughter. “Why’s that so important to you?”
Grace kept on licking. “I’m tired of being the safe choice. The girl guys don’t want to have fun with, but don’t worry about taking home to their mom.”
“Hey, my mom likes you.”
Grace gave him an impatient look. “Not the point.”
Carter ran a hand through her loosened hair. “You can’t just turn bad, sweetheart. That’s not how it works.”
Grace frowned at him. Today she’d thrown off her inhibitions, yanked away this man’s towel, and made hot love with him on his bed.
And now he lay under her, while she had her shirt off, and told her no way would she be anything other than the angel everyone thought she was, the woman other girls never minded leaving alone with their boyfriends. It’s just Grace, she’d actually heard a woman say of her. Nothing to worry about.
Oh, yeah?
Now Grace was lying, outside, half naked with the town’s baddest bad boy.
Carter hadn’t bothered with a belt tonight. Grace easily popped open the top button of his jeans and slid down the zipper.
Carter caught her h
ands. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Proving you wrong.”
Grace yanked open his jeans and jerked them down a little. He hadn’t bothered with underwear either. That fact made her already rapid heartbeat trip faster.
His very stiff cock lay against his abdomen, beckoning her touch.
Grace grabbed the bowl of cream, upended it, and sent the rest of its contents right over his waiting cock.
Chapter Twelve
Carter let out a yell as the well-chilled cream landed on his exposed cock and balls.
“Damn, woman—that’s cold.”
“Then let me warm it up,” his dream angel said, and she bowed her head and closed her mouth over him.
Holy … fuck.
This was no dream, and she was no out-of-reach angel. She was Grace, beautiful woman who filled the empty parts of Carter’s soul.
She was also Grace with the wicked smile, who blushed even as she claimed she wanted to be bad.
Oh, I’ll let you be bad to me, darlin’.
Carter had realized before that Grace had never had a man go down on her. Now he realized she’d never gone down on a man.
She didn’t know quite what to do, but with all her licking, kissing, and exploring, it didn’t matter. Plus, she was catching on real quick.
Carter ran his hand through her sleek hair, rocking his hips. He should stop her, tell her they needed to go back inside, clean the place up. His mom might come out any second to investigate. Faith wasn’t allowed outside after dark without someone with her, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t break the rules and run out here if she thought something was wrong.
Nothing was wrong. It was so right.
The ends of Grace’s hair brushed his thighs, a light touch that drove him wild. Her tongue and lips took up all the cream, licking, sucking, nipping.
Just when he thought she’d raise her head, finished, she studied his tip, then carefully closed her mouth around it.
Carter let out a groan. “Grace, sweetheart, beautiful …”
Grace didn’t stop, didn’t ask, with a sly smile, if he liked what she did. She simply continued.
Carter came up on his elbows, the better to push himself into her mouth. He didn’t want to hurt her or scare her, but his body had different ideas. It needed her hot, sweet, wet mouth all over him.
Grace nibbled, licked, rubbed her tongue on the most sensitive places of his cock. She didn’t quite know what to do, but her innocent questing got Carter harder than if she’d used the most skilled techniques.
“I need you,” he heard himself say. “Grace, I need you now.” Now and forever. Stay and make me whole for the first time in my life.
“Grace.” Carter was going to come. He didn’t want to do that, not into her mouth. Correction—he wanted Grace taking him down, but that might frighten her off. He imagined her leaping to her feet, running away, and never coming back.
Only one thing to do. He seized her under the arms and dragged her up his body on top of him. Grace came along easily, pliant, her skin warm.
Carter fumbled and tugged until her shorts and underwear came off her. She helped, tossing the clothes aside.
Now she was naked in the moonlight, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Grace needed little prompting to straddle him, and then Carter lifted himself inside her, pulling at her hips as he slid into her all the way.
Grace cried out, her voice ringing into the night. Carter touched her lips, shushing her. Grace only gave him a languid smile, then her head went back as he thrust high inside her.
Carter held her hips, encouraging her to ride him. Grace caught on, scooping herself against him while he thrust.
It was wild, hot, sticky, beautiful. Moonlight and starlight pooled on Grace’s face, shoulders, breasts, shining in her hair.
She rocked, her breasts swaying, and Carter lay back and watched her.
I love you. Carter wanted to say it, but the words choked in his throat. Too soon, the heat of the moment.
One day he’d tell her. One day he’d try to make this real.
For now, he simply enjoyed loving this gorgeous woman, outside under the wide Texas sky. The stars seemed to dance, thick and sparkling on the black satin night.
Grace’s eyes closed, her mouth twisting as she rose to her greatest pleasure. Her coming wasn’t quiet—she called his name, thrust against him as though she wanted to take him so deep inside he’d never get out.
Fine with Carter. He gave a shout into the darkness as he came himself, feeling his seed seek her.
Then she was falling, collapsing onto his chest, breathing hard, spent. Carter’s heart was pounding, his blood searing in his veins, the loneliest part of him crying out in joy.
Hold on to her. Never let her go.
The commanding voice pushed aside the shy Carter, knowing this woman would complete him. He’d be a fool to let her get away, and he knew it.
The shy man wouldn’t let him speak all he wanted to, even though Grace was lying full-length on him, nude and lovely.
“Grace,” Carter whispered. He ran shaking hands over her hair, then skimmed them down her welcoming body.
Grace lifted her head, her eyes warm, face beautiful in the moonlight. “Well,” she said, her breath sweet. “That was fun.”
***
Carter wouldn’t let her go home. He closed up his jeans and helped Grace find and don her clothes before he led the way back to the house. He started to pull on his T-shirt, realized it had been ruined by crème anglaise and whipped cream, and balled it in his hands. Grace liked him better this way, where she could see the sculpted fineness of him, and the jagged lightning tatts licking from shoulders to forearms.
Grace’s clothes were in a likewise sorry condition. She needed a shower and to toss everything into the wash.
Wouldn’t it be nice to shower with Carter? They could soap each other off, explore a bit more, then fall into bed together.
Carter stopped off at the laundry room to drop his shirt in the washer. He grabbed a clean shirt from a basket of clothes on top of the dryer, slid it on, then looked down at it.
“This is Tyler’s.”
The shirt’s logo was from a bar in Houston that Grace had never heard of. If she was going to be a bad girl, she supposed she should know about bars in Houston.
“It’s fine,” Grace said. She studied the kitchen. “What a mess. I guess we should clean it up.”
“Tomorrow,” Carter said. “It’s late.”
Grace carried the bowls for the whipped cream and the crème anglaise to the sink and started running water. “I’d feel bad if your mom came out to this before I can get here tomorrow. Better to have it done tonight.”
Carter came over to her and snapped off the water. “Do it tomorrow. And you can’t go home.”
Grace blinked at him. “Can’t? Why not?”
Carter glanced out the window over the sink. “I’m not letting you drive home by yourself in the dark. I can’t drive you, because I don’t want to leave my mom and Faith out here by themselves. And I’m not gonna wake them up so we can all go together.”
“I agree, that would be silly.” Grace turned on the water again, squeezed some soap into the bowls. “So is me not driving home. I do it every night—I’ve gone later than this.”
“That was before people from my past started showing up.” Carter at least gave in about the cleaning. He started bringing over the measuring cups and the bowls from the island. “I figure you got two choices. Call one of your brothers to come drive you home, or stay the night.”
Grace sent him a dark look. “Oh, thanks. I can’t climb into a truck with Kyle or Ray when I look like this. They’ll know exactly what I was up to.”
Carter didn’t smile, but the flicker in his eyes announced his triumph. “Then I guess you’re staying here.”
“Fine. But I’m still doing the dishes before I go to bed. I can’t guarantee I’ll wake up in time to straighten up before break
fast.”
Carter gave her a short laugh and went to gather the rest of the bowls and spoons from the island.
“What?” Grace asked when he came back. “What’s so funny?”
“You keep on about wanting to be bad. Sugar, a bad girl wouldn’t make sure the kitchen was cleaned up so my mom wouldn’t be upset when she came in here in the morning. A bad girl wouldn’t give a rat’s ass. And, she wouldn’t argue when her lover asked her to spend the night.”
“Lover?” Grace flushed and busied herself scrubbing a pan. “That sounds so … not me.”
Carter leaned his elbows on the counter. “Not me either. What are we going to do?”
Grace had no idea how to answer him. The charade to keep the sheriff off his back was one thing. Real life was another.
“Well, I for one am going to get the burned sugar out of this pan,” Grace said. “Then we need to mop the floor.”
“Sweetheart, you’re a barrel of fun.”
“I’m a cook.” Grace slammed more dishes into the sink. The Campbells had a dishwasher, a nice big one, but many of her bowls and pans were professional bakeware that a household dishwasher might ruin. “Cooks clean. A lot. If I had my own place, I might have a commis or two to help me. Then again, I’d probably still do my share of scrubbing.”
“I’d like that to happen for you,” Carter said. “Your restaurant.”
“Pastry shop and bakery,” Grace corrected him. “A true patisserie. It will only happen if I can get together enough money. I’m thinking I’ll have to work for someone else in one of the cities, then buy them out.” She sighed. “I really wanted to stay around here, though. There are enough tourists coming through to make a good customer base. Mrs. Ward might let me sell through her, if I can bring in enough samples for her to try, but I still want my own place.”
“You know, I happen to be on the board of a company that helps people buy land and businesses around here.”
Grace shook her head. “I don’t want to take your money. What if I couldn’t pay back the loan? My family was almost on the hook for the last one until I scraped enough together to pay it off. I’d have to leave town and never see you again.”
“A bad girl would take the money and run.” Carter shook his head. “You’re no good at this.”