Carter Ortese is Trouble - completed (The Boys #1)

Chapter 31: Carter

My brain is a puddle of useless mush. I'm still trying to figure out what's happening. Emma is in my room, which I never thought would happen. She's also on top of me. She's kissing me, and somehow, my lips drift to the soft curve of her neck. I let out a shuddering breath as I kiss her skin. She's warm, and her scent surrounds me, floral and almond. Emma is incredible, every inch of her. She exudes perfection from every curve.

If there were ever a time to let go, it would be now with Emma. I want to let go with her. Her hands reach lower, tracing down my chest. My fingers trail along her sides and settle on her hips. When I touch her bare skin underneath the hem of her shirt, I will my brain to continue being mush. I refuse to ruin this.

My lips capture hers, and I kiss her as she undoes the top button of my pants. I'm wrenched back into the throes of reality. I grab onto her wrists, and my hands shake. I pull myself back, out from under her, and away from her. I hate myself.

But I can't let go, not like this. I've never been able to, not with anyone, and definitely not under these circumstances. I know Emma's hurting, though I can't figure out why. I'd be a miserable excuse of a person if I did this now.

Her eyes are wild and blazing, a mixture of colors and emotions. My hands are around hers, but she's still reaching for my pants, and if she gets any closer, I will lose the last shred of myself. I tighten my grip, and she winces. I instantly drop her hands, and she leaps off my bed.

"What's wrong?" we both ask at the same time.

My eyes catch sight of her wrist, and I grasp her fingers, gently this time. Her skin is angry and red, and I know I didn't do that. I might have gripped her, but not hard enough to create marks. I ease her toward me, trying to catch her gaze, but she won't look at me. "What happened, Emma?"

"Nothing. I just ..." She sinks down on top of me. She's so warm, and I can feel it all the way into my bones. There is nothing I wouldn't do for her in this moment, other than the one thing she seems to be asking of me. "I want to forget. I want to own one thing, okay?" Her hands go around my face, and she cups my cheeks, bringing our lips back together.

This doesn't feel right anymore.

I press on her shoulders, treating her like she's a fabergé egg. "What happened, Emma?"

She finally moves off me and sinks onto the bed. She's wounded, split open at the seams, and I don't know how to put her back together. "Why can't I have this with you? I want to give it to you. I mean, this isn't anything new, right?"

Anger flares up inside me. I get up and pace my room. Emma is stony quiet, watching me with wide eyes. She's curling in on herself, disappearing right in front of me, and I can't stop the rage from building under my skin.

She still thinks of me as my reputation. I'm that guy. Being that guy doesn't hurt with anyone else, but it hurts like hell coming from her. Emma thinks that she wants this—wants me—but she doesn't. She'll regret it.

Something happened to her, and she's not telling me what. That pisses me off more. But when I look at her on my next pass of the room, I see the pain in her pale eyes, the tranquility in her pensive gaze as if she's still waiting for me to change my mind. My heart dissolves like the bread on my mayo-saturated sandwiches.

"Come here," I say, offering her my hand. It hangs in the air for a few moments before she curls her fingers around mine. "We're going for a drive. Do you have your car?"

She shows me her keys, and I pull her toward me. Emma leans into me, and our lips hover an inch apart. Her breathing is uneven, and I could still have her. Thing is, as much as I want her, the timing isn't right.