Poles Apart
Page 32
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“They lost someone incredible from their lives. I feel sorry for anyone that doesn’t know you.”
Holy shit, that’s the best line I’ve ever heard in my life! “Damn, Carson, that was flipping adorable,” I congratulated, awestruck.
He laughed, and his hand travelled a little higher up my leg. “I’m just trying to charm you into bed, Emma,” he joked, using his words from last night.
I laughed. “Well, it’s definitely working, baby,” I whispered, pulling his mouth to mine and kissing him hungrily. He smiled against my lips, his hand heading even higher, brushing against my sex lightly. I gasped when I felt his fingers touch my flesh; I’d completely forgotten I wasn’t wearing underwear after he ripped it off in the gents’ bathroom.
He laughed and moved his hand away, running his nose up the side of my jaw, his lips pressing to my ear. “How about I give you that birthday orgasm now?” he whispered seductively.
I whimpered with need and bit my lip, nodding. I lay down, pulling him on top of me. His weight pressed me down into the softness of the sofa as his hard body pressed against mine. He kissed me deeply. I moaned into his mouth, unbuttoning his shirt and pushing it off his shoulders, trailing my fingers across his skin.
“Should we go to the bedroom, in case your brother comes in? I don’t want any more interruptions,” he growled huskily. He was already on his feet, pulling me up too before I realised what he’d said. I couldn’t go to the bedroom with him, Sasha was in there! I opened and closed my mouth, unable to think of a single excuse as to why I could say no. “You don’t want to?”
I gulped. “Let’s stay in here. My bedroom’s right next to Rory’s, and I don’t want him to hear anything,” I lied, praying he would go for it.
He smiled and shrugged, stepping back to me again, wrapping his arm around me and guiding me back down onto the sofa as his mouth found mine. We launched into the most passionate make-out session we’d ever had. It felt different because we weren’t in the club, and we were different this time. I prayed he felt the same. The kissing was getting so hot and passionate I was almost losing myself in it. Hours, minutes, or merely seconds could have passed but I had no idea, because all I could focus on was him.
By the time he pulled away to kiss down the side of my neck, I was gasping for breath. My head was spinning, and my whole body felt hot. I rolled him onto his back, forgetting we were on the sofa, so we tumbled off the side, crashing to the floor. The split-second falling sensation made my stomach lurch. The alcohol I’d consumed was coming back to haunt me. Carson merely laughed and carried on where we left off, nibbling on my neck. I tried to ignore the way the room was spinning but, when I closed my eyes, I felt dizzy. When my stomach squeezed uncomfortably, I knew.
Oh, God, I’m going to throw up!
I pushed myself up quickly, straddling his hips and grabbing the bin, just about managing to get it to my face before I emptied my stomach into it. Carson gasped and also heaved before I pushed myself off him and threw up again. It was like a floodgate had been opened.
“Oh, shit. Emma, I’m not good with sick!” Carson moaned, dry-heaving next to me whilst trying to rub my back at the same time.
I laughed into the bin and pushed him away from me, blushing furiously as I ran to the bathroom. I could still hear him gagging and I just couldn’t stop laughing. Secretly, I prayed I was still drunk enough to blank this out in the morning, pretend like it never happened.
A couple of minutes later, there was a knock at the door. “Emma, you okay? I have water here if you want it,” Carson said softly from the other side.
I flushed the toilet and rinsed my mouth out with mouthwash before unlocking the door. He stood there looking at me sympathetically, holding out a glass of water. I bit my lip and smiled apologetically. “I’m so sorry,” I croaked, my voice husky from vomiting.
He winced. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sorry, too; I’m useless with sick. Man, I’m really sorry, I didn’t help at all.”
I burst out laughing as I remembered him heaving next to me. The laughing made my stomach lurch again; I shoved the glass back toward him and ran back to the toilet. Behind me, the bathroom door closed and I could hear Carson heaving on the other side of it. I couldn’t help but laugh again before expelling yet more alcohol from my system.
Well, if the papers printing horrible things about him doesn’t scare him away, then this will!
A couple of minutes later, muffled talking started outside the door. I flushed the toilet again, slumping down next to it and trying to catch my breath. I looked up just as the door opened, seeing Rory step in. A huge smirk covered his face as he folded his arms across his chest.
“You’re setting such a good example for me right now,” he teased. I burst out laughing, holding my hand out to him. He gripped it and pulled me to my feet. “When I finally come home drunk and throwing up at two in the morning, you remember this night and no giving me hell about it,” he stated rather smugly.
“Shut up, you!” I scolded playfully as he helped me over to the sink so I could rinse my mouth again. “Has Carson gone?” I asked, wincing because of how embarrassing the situation was.
Rory chuckled wickedly and shook his head. “No. He’s in the kitchen looking a little green. I heard you throwing up and when I came out, he was gagging outside the door. It was hilarious. He’s too funny.” He laughed and I couldn’t help but giggle quietly, too. I’d never seen anyone have such a bad reaction to sick before; Carson clearly had a weak stomach.
Holy shit, that’s the best line I’ve ever heard in my life! “Damn, Carson, that was flipping adorable,” I congratulated, awestruck.
He laughed, and his hand travelled a little higher up my leg. “I’m just trying to charm you into bed, Emma,” he joked, using his words from last night.
I laughed. “Well, it’s definitely working, baby,” I whispered, pulling his mouth to mine and kissing him hungrily. He smiled against my lips, his hand heading even higher, brushing against my sex lightly. I gasped when I felt his fingers touch my flesh; I’d completely forgotten I wasn’t wearing underwear after he ripped it off in the gents’ bathroom.
He laughed and moved his hand away, running his nose up the side of my jaw, his lips pressing to my ear. “How about I give you that birthday orgasm now?” he whispered seductively.
I whimpered with need and bit my lip, nodding. I lay down, pulling him on top of me. His weight pressed me down into the softness of the sofa as his hard body pressed against mine. He kissed me deeply. I moaned into his mouth, unbuttoning his shirt and pushing it off his shoulders, trailing my fingers across his skin.
“Should we go to the bedroom, in case your brother comes in? I don’t want any more interruptions,” he growled huskily. He was already on his feet, pulling me up too before I realised what he’d said. I couldn’t go to the bedroom with him, Sasha was in there! I opened and closed my mouth, unable to think of a single excuse as to why I could say no. “You don’t want to?”
I gulped. “Let’s stay in here. My bedroom’s right next to Rory’s, and I don’t want him to hear anything,” I lied, praying he would go for it.
He smiled and shrugged, stepping back to me again, wrapping his arm around me and guiding me back down onto the sofa as his mouth found mine. We launched into the most passionate make-out session we’d ever had. It felt different because we weren’t in the club, and we were different this time. I prayed he felt the same. The kissing was getting so hot and passionate I was almost losing myself in it. Hours, minutes, or merely seconds could have passed but I had no idea, because all I could focus on was him.
By the time he pulled away to kiss down the side of my neck, I was gasping for breath. My head was spinning, and my whole body felt hot. I rolled him onto his back, forgetting we were on the sofa, so we tumbled off the side, crashing to the floor. The split-second falling sensation made my stomach lurch. The alcohol I’d consumed was coming back to haunt me. Carson merely laughed and carried on where we left off, nibbling on my neck. I tried to ignore the way the room was spinning but, when I closed my eyes, I felt dizzy. When my stomach squeezed uncomfortably, I knew.
Oh, God, I’m going to throw up!
I pushed myself up quickly, straddling his hips and grabbing the bin, just about managing to get it to my face before I emptied my stomach into it. Carson gasped and also heaved before I pushed myself off him and threw up again. It was like a floodgate had been opened.
“Oh, shit. Emma, I’m not good with sick!” Carson moaned, dry-heaving next to me whilst trying to rub my back at the same time.
I laughed into the bin and pushed him away from me, blushing furiously as I ran to the bathroom. I could still hear him gagging and I just couldn’t stop laughing. Secretly, I prayed I was still drunk enough to blank this out in the morning, pretend like it never happened.
A couple of minutes later, there was a knock at the door. “Emma, you okay? I have water here if you want it,” Carson said softly from the other side.
I flushed the toilet and rinsed my mouth out with mouthwash before unlocking the door. He stood there looking at me sympathetically, holding out a glass of water. I bit my lip and smiled apologetically. “I’m so sorry,” I croaked, my voice husky from vomiting.
He winced. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sorry, too; I’m useless with sick. Man, I’m really sorry, I didn’t help at all.”
I burst out laughing as I remembered him heaving next to me. The laughing made my stomach lurch again; I shoved the glass back toward him and ran back to the toilet. Behind me, the bathroom door closed and I could hear Carson heaving on the other side of it. I couldn’t help but laugh again before expelling yet more alcohol from my system.
Well, if the papers printing horrible things about him doesn’t scare him away, then this will!
A couple of minutes later, muffled talking started outside the door. I flushed the toilet again, slumping down next to it and trying to catch my breath. I looked up just as the door opened, seeing Rory step in. A huge smirk covered his face as he folded his arms across his chest.
“You’re setting such a good example for me right now,” he teased. I burst out laughing, holding my hand out to him. He gripped it and pulled me to my feet. “When I finally come home drunk and throwing up at two in the morning, you remember this night and no giving me hell about it,” he stated rather smugly.
“Shut up, you!” I scolded playfully as he helped me over to the sink so I could rinse my mouth again. “Has Carson gone?” I asked, wincing because of how embarrassing the situation was.
Rory chuckled wickedly and shook his head. “No. He’s in the kitchen looking a little green. I heard you throwing up and when I came out, he was gagging outside the door. It was hilarious. He’s too funny.” He laughed and I couldn’t help but giggle quietly, too. I’d never seen anyone have such a bad reaction to sick before; Carson clearly had a weak stomach.
