Donovan (Face-Off 3)

I’m so excited about our dirty shower sex that my pussy cheers at the promise of more. No matter how much I get, I can never get enough of Carter.

After another round of sex, I can hardly walk through my apartment without wincing in pain. Carter’s size is not something you adjust to overnight. Even after a few months, he still has the ability to wreck me from the inside out. And that shower sex was so fucking dirty it should be illegal. Carter is a bad boy.

Lounging on the couch in Carter’s boxers and a tank top, I curl up next to him, soaking up his warmth as he wraps his arm around me. He’s like a big teddy bear when he acts this way with me. Despite his moments where he’s rough with me, he has this soft side to him outside the bedroom that I adore even more.

Carter left no room for me to talk about the book before dinner. With all the fucking we were doing, I had no room to get a word in before he was taking control of my body. For whatever reason, Carter is watching a Flyers game from last season, pausing, and then rewinding the tape repeatedly. It’s annoying the hell out of me, but I want to stay on his good side.

We need to talk about the book and if he’d be okay with me writing some version of our love story. Stroking his arm with my fingers, I glance over at him and already have his attention.

“I need to tell you something,” I confess, nervous about his reaction.

“Like what?” He seems just as worried as I do.

“You know the games I played when we first met?”

He nods. “How could I forget? You gave me a never-ending case of blue balls.”

I laugh, adjusting my position on the couch. “Well, I kind of did something you might not like.”

“Stop being so cryptic, Syd, and just tell me already. What did you do?”

“I pitched a book idea to my editor about us.”

His face turns to stone, his body just as still. A beat passes between us before he looks human again, his chest rising and falling as he sucks in a deep breath. “Please tell me you didn’t write about my past. Please tell me you did not do that to me. To us.”

I shake my head, holding onto him for dear life. He’s shaking beneath me, his anger radiating off him in waves. “Of course not. I would never do that to you, which is why I couldn’t write the outline for my editor once I discovered your secrets. I always knew you were hiding something from me, but I had no idea what. In the beginning, I thought it would be fun to play with you, toy with your emotions. I know it was immature and stupid, and I regret doing it in the first place. But it also gave me this amazing book idea that my editor said he can sell to a wider market than what I have now.”

“You want to make money off my life? My life is not for sale, and yours shouldn’t be either.”

“That’s not what I’m saying. Just hear me out.”

He attempts to shake me off, but I jump on his lap and straddle him, pinning him in place with my thighs. Carter could move me with one hand in an instant. But he submits. Allowing me to run my fingers through his hair, he stares into my eyes.

“I love you, Carter Michael Donovan. You are my world now. My writing, the books, they don’t even compare to you. I thought that writing was the love of my life before you came along and put my ass in check. Do I regret messing with you in the beginning? Of course, I do. But I also think my childish behavior kept you interested long enough to realize this could work between us. You were never a one-woman kind of guy. Not until you met me.”

He smiles. “Did you just use my full name?”

“That’s all you got from what I just said?” I shake my head, laughing. “You stubborn ass.”

He strokes my jaw with his thumb, pulling my head toward him. Speaking against my lips, he says, “Tell me more about this book.”

Relief washes over me. I was so damn nervous I had been avoiding this conversation for weeks. “I changed the names, locations, and any details that would give anyone the impression the book is about us.”

“What’s my name in this book? What’s my story?”

“Well,” I say, planting a soft kiss on his lips. “It’s our love story, not just yours. Your name is Chuck and mine is Savannah. She’s a spoiled brat who plays games with Chuck just to get her way.”

“Sounds about right,” he says, laughing.

I roll my eyes at him, not entertained. “Chuck is a Wall Street guy from a small town who made it big. He has a dark past that he keeps hidden from Savannah, so her games work out for him until they get old, and he gets bored with her.”

“That’s not why I stopped talking to you,” he interjects. “I was never bored with you.”

I cock an eyebrow at him, confused. “No? Then, why did you walk away from me?”

“Because I wanted something more. After Tyler had told me about the baby, I knew it was time for me to grow up. It was kind of a wake up call for me. My best friend is having a baby and eventually getting married, and here I am fucking off with you when you wouldn’t even let me fuck you.”

“The same thing happened to me. After I had found out Kennedy was pregnant, I knew her life was forever changed. I was already losing my best friend with how much time Tyler and Kennedy were spending together. But a baby…The news made me sit down and reevaluate my life, except by the time I had done that, you would not even respond to my messages.”