Hope Burns Page 53
He tried to swallow. It didn’t work. His throat had gone dry. “That’s some costume.”
“So . . . you like it.”
“I like it so much that if I’d known you had it on underneath that sheet, I’d have sent everyone home hours ago.” He came into the room, took a long swallow of his beer to cool his parched throat, then set the drinks down on the table by the window. “Seriously, Molly, you take my breath away.”
“That was what I was hoping for. We haven’t had much alone time since that night we spent together. I didn’t want you to think it was a one-time thing. I didn’t think it was.”
He swept his fingers up her arm. “Neither did I. I’ve been thinking about you a lot.”
She lifted her gaze to his, and, as always, her eyes mesmerized him. “Have you?”
“Yeah. And just so you know, I’d have tried to seduce you tonight, even in that baggy white sheet you were wearing earlier.”
She lifted her hand to his face, using her thumb to tease his lower lip. “Good to know. But isn’t this so much better?”
He was so hard right now he was afraid he might bust open the seam of his tight Frankenstein pants. Just looking at her—that white corset making her breasts threaten to spill right out, her hair flowing over her shoulders, her legs—oh, man she had great legs—and those shoes.
He pulled his wig off and dragged his fingers through his hair.
“I should go take a shower and get this green makeup off my face.”
“And leave me standing here? I don’t think so.”
“You really want to . . . be with me looking like this?”
Her lips curved. “Maybe I have a thing for movie monsters.”
“Kinky.” He grasped her wrist and kissed it, then pulled her arm around his neck, drawing her body closer to his so he could touch her skin and that sexy white thing that encased her curves.
“I like the way you feel against me,” he said, sifting his fingers through her wildly curling hair.
“But my hair is graying. Will you still want me when I’m old and gray?”
She was teasing him, but he wasn’t in the mood for jokes right now. Not when she was half naked and pressed against him. “Yes. Hell yes.”
He tunneled his fingers in her hair and pressed his lips to hers. Her answering whimper made him groan, made him want to strip her out of that flimsy, sexy thing and slide inside her, so the pounding ache in his balls would go away.
But oh, he liked the feel of her when he ran his hand down her back. There were strings back there. How the hell did she get dressed in this?
He made a mental note to ask her later, because right now her lips moved under his, her tongue flicked against his, and he picked her up and carried her to his bed, sitting her down on the edge.
He crouched down and slid his hands up her silk-clad legs. “These are nice.”
She smiled down at him. “You like them?”
“Yeah. The shoes, too.” He lifted her leg. “How can you walk in these things?”
“Did you see me doing any actual walking in them?”
He laughed. “No.” He slipped one shoe off, then the other. “But they’re hot as hell.”
“I thought so, too.”
He took her hands and pulled her up, then turned her around so her back was to him. “I like these laces in the back.”
He started undoing them. “But honestly, Molly. I’m going to have to get you out of this thing, because I want to touch your skin.”
She inhaled, let out a breath. “That would be nice.”
Every touch of Carter’s hands along her back was sweet torment. And he took his time undoing the laces, which she’d had to embarrass herself and ask her sister to do up for her while she was getting dressed at her parents’ house. Which meant Emma had known what she was planning, but once she’d bought the corset, there was no other way, because she couldn’t get into the thing without help.
Or out of it, for that matter.
Emma had been nice enough not to say a word, other than give her a secret smile in the bathroom mirror as she’d laced her up. She owed her sister—big time.
And now, as Carter oh-so-delicately and oh-so-slowly undid the laces, she bit down on her lower lip. She’d had no idea that someone getting her out of this corset could be such a sensual thing, but his knuckles caressed her back, and his breath sailed across her neck and there was his erection she knew he deliberately brushed against her butt, making her incredibly aware that this was taking way too damn long.
Until he separated the back of the corset and turned her around to face him.
“While I like this—a lot—that was some damn torture, Moll.”
“For me, too.”
He looked down, his fingers grazing the swell of her breasts. “Did it hurt?”
“That’s not exactly what I meant.”
He lifted his gaze to her face. “What did you mean, then?”
“That while you were back there undoing the laces, I was kind of hoping you’d hurry up.”
He pulled the corset from her, tossing it to the chair, then cupped her breasts in his hands, using his thumbs to draw circles around her nipples. “Are you on a timetable, Molly? Do you have a curfew?”
She cocked her head to the side and shot him a look. “No. And you know what I mean.”
“I’m sorry. You’re right. I was thinking when I first saw you that I wanted you naked and underneath me in an instant, so yeah, I get the impatience, believe me. But we have all night, right?”