Donovan (Face-Off 3)

He wraps his arm around me as we fall back onto the mattress together. Stroking my hair with his fingers, he leans my head on his chest. Carter has done some variation of this since the first night we had sex. I think he’s sorry for being so rough with me. Some days, Carter handles me like a ragdoll, forgetting it’s me he’s fucking. It’s almost as if he goes into this lust-filled zone that I cannot get him out of until after he finds his release.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers into my ear. He does this every time we have sex.

“It’s okay, big guy.” I rub my hand down his arm, feeling the ridges of his muscles. “I understand. You don’t have to apologize.”

“No, you don’t understand. That’s the problem.”

With my back pressed up against his chest, I can’t look into his eyes and see what he’s thinking. Not that his eyes would give me any indication. Unlike me, Carter is not an open book. His eyes are not the windows to his soul. Most of the time, he’s unreachable, so far from my grasp that I feel as though he will slip away from me.

I have no control when it com

es to Carter. Whatever power he allowed me to exercise over him was clearly for my benefit. It was his sneaky way of getting into my pants, all part of his master plan. Whether I had realized or not, Carter was the one working me over. Not the other way around.

“I want to understand, Carter. Why don’t you tell me why you like it this way?”

He plants kisses on my neck, avoiding the question before moving me onto my side of the bed. At this point, he has me conditioned not to prod for information. I cannot lose him again, so I hold my tongue when it comes to the small thing he asks of me. Patience has never been my virtue, but when it comes to Carter, he’s the exception to everything. I’m also falling in love with him, which scares me even more.

What if he doesn’t share my feelings? What if he rejects me? The thought of him walking away from me again terrifies me, makes me want to be a better person. For him. For us. For our future together. I set aside my childish behavior for Carter. Now, I have to wait patiently until he spills all his secrets, lets me into his very private life.

Even Kennedy doesn’t know what he’s hiding. All she knows is that it’s something big that Tyler won’t tell her about. He says it’s not his place, considering he kept his own secrets at bay for years.

Rolling onto my side, I watch as the mattress dips beneath his weight, and Carter gets up from the bed. He glances down at me for a second, smiling. His legs are like trunks of solid muscle, his arms like chiseled steel, and the tattoos that mark most of his body are like a road map of his perfect dips and valleys. I wish I knew the meaning of his tats. The answers are behind the pictures and words. If only I could figure out how to navigate them.

Tell me all your secrets, I think to myself as he winks at me and walks into the bathroom. Tell me what you’re hiding from me.

He comes back with a washcloth, same as always. Carter has this odd habit of cleaning me after we have sex. I’ve never had a man do this before, and I like it. While he’s aggressive and passionate during sex, he’s tender and soft after we finish. It’s as if he tries to make up for hurting me. But what he doesn’t realize is that I like our rough sex. I like when he spanks my ass and pulls my hair. Carter opened my eyes when it comes to trying new things.

I may write about bondage, and whatever taboo topic pops into my head. But rough sex, the kind I have only watched in a porno or read in books is one thing I have never written from personal experience. Now, dating a teacher and writing about it was a no brainer for me. That story was real and raw. I hooked up my English teacher all through high school. Every detail of that story I wrote through my own eyes.

Sometimes, the forbidden world, like the one I have with Carter, is so much more enticing. Except I never saw a future with my sexy teacher. He took my virginity and hoped for more after graduation, but I always knew our relationship wasn’t meant to be. We never had the chemistry I have with Carter.

After Carter completes our post-sex ritual, he holds me tight against his chest and kisses my hair. “I’m exhausted,” he breathes, resting my head on his shoulder. “I have to get up for practice in a few hours. I need my sleep, Princess. No more for tonight.”

I try to hide my laughter and fail. “We already had sex three times since you got here. I think you filled your quota for the day.”

“I can never get enough of you. Your pussy is hard to resist.”

“My pussy is sore and needs a break anyway.”

He laughs, shaking my body in the process.

“It’s not funny.” I smack him on his thick thigh with a loud crack, giving him a taste of his own medicine.

“You have no idea how much I like you.” His voice is a faint whisper. He sounds as if he’s dozing off already.

You have no idea how much I love you, I want to say but keep my mouth shut. Instead, I mutter, “I know. Me, too.”

“You’re beautiful and perfect,” he sounds as if he’s slurring the words. “I’m glad I met you, Sydney.”

This man has the ability to fall asleep faster than anyone I have ever met. Sex takes so much out of him, which is not at all surprising with the way he fucks me.

A single tear falls from my eye and slides down my cheek. I wish I could tell him how I feel without chasing him away. How can I love a man who won’t open up to me?

“I love you, Carter,” I whisper as he snores in my ear. I don’t expect an answer, but it feels good to say it aloud.

After thirty minutes of heavy breathing, I slide out from beneath Carter’s large frame, watching him sleep for a few moments before I retreat to my office. I have to get some work done. Sam has been up my ass to get the outline done for the new book. Now that Carter and I are back together, he expects me to write the fictionalized version of our love story. Except I have no idea how it ends.

How do I write what Sam believes will sell off the shelves when our story is not complete?