Sincerely, Carter
Page 20

“You look beautiful tonight, Ari…” he whispered against my mouth, letting his fingers caress my skin through the fabric of my dress.
“Thank you…” I breathed.
“Have you ever worn this dress before?” He tugged at its hem.
“Freshman year.” I blushed and buried my head in his chest to prevent our mouths from getting any closer.
“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” he whispered into my ear, but I didn’t answer. I was breathing in his scent, exhaling as he pressed his hand against my thigh.
“Ari?” he asked. “Ari?”
I ignored him once more, and instead of questioning it, he ran his fingers through my hair—setting my nerves on fire all over again.
A few songs later, when I’d convinced myself that my increased heartrate had nothing to do with the fact that Carter was still holding me close and touching me, I looked up at him.
“Why is the DJ playing slow songs now?” I asked.
“Would you like me to tell him to change it?”
“Yes…” I said softly. “Yes, I would.”
The lights in the room dimmed even darker, to where I could only make out the outline of his face.
“It’ll speed back up in a second,” he said, his lips slightly brushing against mine. “He always slows it down before the next power hour.”
“Right…” I felt his forehead touching mine.
The lights suddenly went black, and the next thing I knew, his lips were all over mine and my back was pushed hard against the wall. His tongue slipped into my mouth—demanding complete and utter control, and I immediately gave in.
Murmuring, I shut my eyes as he used his hips to keep me pressed against the wall, as he used one of his hands to slightly cup my ass.
He slid a hand under my dress and softly ran his fingers against my panty-line; in response, my arms went around his neck—my fingers threaded through his hair. He bit down hard on my bottom lip, so hard I moaned. But he didn’t stop kissing me. He kept his mouth attached to mine, barely giving me a chance to breathe.
“Ah…” I let another murmur escape my lips, and he bit my lip again. Even harder this time.
“Alright, enough of this slow shit!” The DJ bellowed! “Power Hour, part two bitches!”
The strobe lights came on again, and Carter and I quickly tore away—panting and staring at each other in utter disbelief.
“Fuck…” He breathed. “What the hell was that?”
“You tell me.” I leaned back against the wall. “One minute, I was dancing and the next minute, you were sticking your tongue down my throat.
“My tongue was nowhere near your throat,” he said, now smiling. “And you left out the next minute where you were kissing me back.”
“No, no, no. I was simply reacting to a sudden and rude intrusion of my mouth…” I paused, shaking my head. “You know what? I think I definitely had way too much to drink tonight, so I’m…I’m going to go lay down…Can I use your room?”
He readjusted my dress and smoothed my hair before answering. “Sure.”
I expected him to walk away and leave me to get there on my own, but he grabbed my hand and led me down the hallway—past the bathroom and past the door that separated his suite from the rest of the place.
He unlocked the door to his room and hit the lights, motioning for me to get into his bed.
“Wait…” I felt a sudden chill hit my skin, bringing attention to my still slightly damp dress. “I need to take a shower…Can I use your shower for a few minutes?”
“Of course you can,” he said, his eyes locked on mine. “You know you never have to ask me for anything like that…”
We stared at each other, and I was pretty sure that dampness I was feeling was not my dress.
“Um…” I stepped forward, looking away from him. “I’m going to go um…Take that shower now…” I moved past him and walked straight into the bathroom, but I saw his reflection in the mirror behind me seconds later.
He took a towel from the closet and handed it to me. “Here.”
“Thank you…” I said, wondering why he was shutting the door. Shutting the door without leaving…
“You’re not going to stay in here with me the whole time are you?”
He smiled. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Do you watch Josh when he takes his showers? Do you get off on watching your friends naked?”
“No,” he said, smiling wider, looking me up and down and making my heart race all over again. “I was only going to help you get undressed because you’re not completely sober yet, just in case you can’t do it yourself.”
“I’m pretty sober, so I think I’ll be perfectly fine.” I felt my cheeks heating. “I take off my own clothes every day, all alone. So, I think I can manage…”
“I’m just being a good friend, Ari.”
“Yes. A friend, Carter.”
“A good friend.”
“Yes…” I was definitely more than drawn to him right now. “You’ve said that already…”
Our eyes locked again and I felt like I couldn’t even force myself to look away.
“Okay. I’ll wait in my room until you’re done.” His eyes lingered on my lips for a few seconds, and then he left.
Swallowing hard, I shut my eyes and tried to think.
This is a dream, Arizona. A very sexy, titillating, yet random as hell dream…You did not kiss Carter. He did not kiss you. You like him as your friend and you do not find him that attractive. You’re in his bathroom because you probably just went to the beach together and wanted to freshen up afterwards…Yes…Yes… That makes much more sense...
I opened my eyes again and turned on the water—holding my hand underneath the faucet until I felt like it was warm enough. I pulled the shower lever forward to turn on the overhead streams.
Then I realized I hadn’t taken off my clothes yet.
That I couldn’t take off my clothes.
The zipper on the back of my dress was jammed, and I now remembered Nicole forcing it up a bit before we came to the party.
I considered ripping the dress off myself, but the fabric was too thick, so I decided against it. I walked over to the door and called Carter’s name.
He walked down the hall to me seconds later, with a knowing smile on his face. “Yes, Ari?”
“Could you please help me take off my dress?”
“Just your dress?” He raised his eyebrow.
“Yes.” I stepped back inside, letting him follow me. “Just. My. Dress.”
“Okay. Turn around.”
I turned around and felt his hands in my hair, felt him slowly pulling my hair on top of my head and attempting a makeshift bun.
He gripped my zipper and jerked it a few times before it gave, and then he slowly pulled it down until it reached my lower back.
I started to turn around, started to thank him, but he gripped my hips and held me still. Gently tracing the line above the clasp of my bra, he looped his fingers underneath the clasp and tore it free.
“Do you need help getting out of anything else?” he whispered.