Carter and I slept on the mattresses on the floor until we could afford a bed. Nobody knew that he usually slipped into mine every night. Night time was usually my favourite time of the day; that was when Carter made out with me right before we fell asleep. It sort of became routine, being in each other’s arms, kissing until our lips had grown tired and our pulses had slowed down from some seriously intense make out sessions. He did things to me that made my eyes roll to the back of my head, using that tongue in ways that were downright wicked. Still, he didn’t have sex with me, and I was left frustrated most nights with a new ache between my legs that needed to be filled, literally.

There was no way I could wait any longer.

And right when I began to fall asleep, Carter would give me a goodnight kiss and slip out of bed and into his own room. I never got used to it. In fact, I hated it more than anything. This was him drawing the line. Telling me that although there was “more” between us, we weren’t in a relationship.

Friends.

We were just friends, as usual.

Ten

“I went to the clothing store today.”

Carter was seated on my bedroom floor with his back against the wall. His legs were spread out, his head bowed down at the notebook he was scribbling into. At the moment, though, he was deliberating, most likely lyrics to a song he was already forming in his head, dangling an HB pencil sideways in his mouth.

His hair had fallen over most of his forehead, curling a little at the ends. He was shirtless, wearing only flannel pants. I stared at him for a while, taking in his sharp jaw and beautifully set cheekbones that were filled with stubble.

“Carter,” I pressed, seated on the mattress, still on the floor, with my homework in my lap.

“Hmm?” he muttered, barely paying attention.

“I went to the clothing store today.”

“Cool.”

I frowned. This was the headache that came with living with a musician. He wasn’t always around mentally, which resulted in this: him ignoring me but pretending to pay attention at the same time.

“I have hairy armpits,” I proceeded to say, tilting my head as I studied him.

He grunted again, having not paid one ounce of attention to me.

“I want to tattoo my face.”

Nothing.

“I’m wearing a thong.”

This time, his head shot up, and he stared at me with wide blue eyes. “Are you really?”

I couldn’t resist laughing. “Oh, so you heard that?”

“I heard everything you said,” he replied, spitting out his pencil and tossing aside his notebook.

“Oh, yeah? Well then what else did I say, wise guy?”

He moved forward and slowly crawled to me. Shirtless, did I mention that? He was so fucking hot, I nearly combusted on the spot. He gave me his usual smouldering look that told me what mood he was in, and with his lips pulled up in a smirk, I knew exactly what was on his mind.

“You said,” he muttered, drawing near, “you went to a clothing store, you have hairy armpits, and you want to tattoo your face.”

My mouth broke into a massive grin as his arms rested on either side of me. His mouth skirted along mine.

“Oh,” I mumbled against his lips, “so you choose not to respond to me.”

In typical Carter fashion, he didn’t respond to that. His eyes simply looked down at my pyjama pants. “Are you seriously wearing a thong?” he asked heatedly, because that was apparently the most important thing right now.

I bit my lip and nodded, that blush really burning my cheeks now.

“Fuck,” he cursed with a pained look in his eye. “You’re already so sexy, Leah. But decorating that tight body? You must look like a fucking bombshell under all this baggage of clothes.”

“So you want to see, I take it.”

“I want to see and taste, thank you very much.”

I laughed again and went to pull my pants down, when his hand shot out and stopped me. He shook his head at me and I raised a confused brow at him.

“No, Angel,” he said, “for me to enjoy the full experience of seeing you in a thong, I need you bent over first.”

My breath escaped my lungs in a whoosh. “Bent over?”

He nodded gravely, like this was an extremely serious matter. “Oh, yeah. I want you bent over so I can slowly peel your pants off.”

Holy fucking shit on a stick.

He raised his finger and drew a circle in the air. “Around, Leah. All fours.”

I turned around and felt his hands on my hips, positioning me in front of him. He pressed his hand on my upper back, forcing me down so that my ass was in the air. I was freaking out a little, my nerves and excitement competing for my attention.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked me, his fingers trailing the hem of my pants.

“I’d be more comfortable if you just got it done,” I answered.

He chuckled and started peeling my pants off.

“Fuuuck,” he slowly cursed behind me, and it sounded like half a groan.

All that worrying he wouldn’t like it was for nothing. Thank God. I’d bought the thong today while I’d gone shopping with Marlena. She was in some other aisle, thankfully well out of view, and I had five whole bucks I was willing to blow. When I saw the white thongs hanging there among the others, I wondered if Carter would find me sexy with them on.

I had grabbed them and rushed to the checkout. When they were bought, I shoved them in my purse and met Marlena in the cooking aisle, pretending to give a shit about non-stick frying pans while my thoughts revolved around whether I would look like a squeezed sausage in them, or whether I might actually pull it off.

I quickly learned they weren’t very comfortable, or I just wasn’t used to them yet. They rode up my ass crack and it felt like I was walking around with a wedgie. That’s essentially what they were, though, right? Wedgie makers, that is. I’d have to learn to deal with it if I wanted to get this kind of reaction out of him.

He leaned over me, and I felt his hard chest against my back. His mouth touched the side of my face as his hands gripped my ass.

“Eleven out of ten, gorgeous,” he whispered.

I turned my head to him and smiled. “I’m glad you like it.”

He turned me around just then, so I was flat on my back with him over me. His hand travelled down my legs, tearing the pants off all the way and flinging them to the side. Then he kissed me, simultaneously stroking between my legs, burning me with need.