Carrie's Answer (15 page)

Throwing his car into gear, he sped out of his driveway, heading to the only place where he absolutely knew he could be alone.

He used his key to enter the empty club. Velvet Ice looked so different in the light of day. The dark walls closed around Marcus as he strode through the regular bar and toward the staircase leading to the second and third floors.

“Hey man, what’s up?”

Marcus slowed, looking at the top of the stairs. Brady Ryder, the public partner of the bar, leaned casually against the railing.

Marcus climbed the rest of the way up. “I need someplace to crash. No one knows I’m here and it’s gonna stay that way. Understand?”

The other man nodded curtly. Marcus knew that Brady wouldn’t question him. The tattooed Dom never took part in the club’s many pleasures and perversions, just watched silently. Brady Ryder looked like what he was—a man with enough secrets and torment of his own. He didn’t need to dip into Marcus’.

Arriving on the third floor, Marcus went to his room and unlocked it. He didn’t bother turning on the light, preferring the darkness. He grabbed a drink from behind the small bar in the corner.

He could just hear Meredith now.
Isn’t it a little early to have a drink?

Marcus saluted the air.

“You’re right, sis, it
is
a little early to have a drink. But since I plan on more than one, why not get started?”

He tossed back the vodka, grabbing the neck of the bottle before he stalked to the bed.

Yep, he was going to get nice and tanked and feel sorry for himself. It was easier than dwelling on how the best thing that ever happened to him had walked out of his life. He didn’t want to think about how he hungered for what they could have together. Marcus wanted the happy ever after, the white picket fence and kids. Fuck, he even wanted a damn dog.

Never in his life had he considered those things for himself. Stirling had made sure that none of his children wanted to produce a Worthington heir. Now Marcus did, and he wanted it with Carrie. She would be the kind of mother who showered her kids with love. She could show Marcus how not to be so hard. With her, he allowed himself to be gentle, to be open and unguarded, all the things a father should be with his children.

He waited for the tears to form but they never did. This was different than when Karen had betrayed him. Karen had wounded his pride. This time he felt utterly empty and alone and he knew that his life was never going to be the same, if he ever recovered at all.

Karen had humiliated the man, his ego was bruised.

Carrie had broken his heart.

* * * * *

Four days later, Marcus sat on the dock, staring out at Silver Lake. He hadn’t been able to tolerate being in the club once it opened. The music and sex did nothing except remind him of the last time he’d been there. The night Carrie had invaded his world and turned everything upside down.

He couldn’t stay home either. Everywhere he looked, he saw her. In his bed. In the tub. At the fucking kitchen table. She haunted the place.

He thought about work but couldn’t find the desire to go there either. For the first time in his life, Marcus Worthington couldn’t focus on business. Carrie had stolen his mind when she’d stolen his heart and soul. He wondered if she even knew it.

So he’d spent the last four days at Matthew’s vacation cottage. The “Love Shack”. The place Matty brought his conquests
du jour
. It was the only place Marcus could think of where he could be alone. Where visions of Carrie wouldn’t haunt him.

Of course he’d been deluding himself. He carried her inside, in the place his heart used to be. By Thursday afternoon, Marcus realized that there was nowhere on earth he could go where she wouldn’t haunt him.

Finally, heaving a sigh, he bowed to the inevitable. She was gone and, unless he wanted to jump into the lake and drown himself, life would somehow have to go on.

Running a weary hand over his eyes, he rose and headed for his car.

Chapter Eighteen

Marcus couldn’t believe he was doing a drive-by. Again. He’d been reduced to haunting Carrie’s apartment building like a ghost and he didn’t like how pathetic it made him feel. It was a good thing he did it though. Tonight there was a light in the window. He felt like a stalker as he watched and waited.

A shadow passed in front of the curtains, a female form that he’d know anywhere. Carrie was home! He didn’t know what was stronger—his relief that she was home and seemed safe, his anger that she’d left him in the first place or his fear that she wouldn’t want to see him. After all, she’d only promised a weekend. But, by God, she owed him one more day and if that’s all he could get, he was determined to take it.

He scratched his face; he needed a shave. He smiled a little bit at the vision of her creamy breasts rosy with whisker burn. He wouldn’t have chosen to go to her scruffy, but frankly at the moment he really didn’t care how he looked. The last four days had been a virtual hell. One he never intended to live again.

The time he’d spent alone had done little to calm his pain or his anger. At first he’d determined to just let her go. It was for the best for both of them. That resolution had lasted all of twenty-four hours. Then memories of her sweetness, her sass, her luscious body had overcome his good sense. He’d known he had to get her back.

He’d even broken down and tried to find her. He’d gone over in his mind every detail he could remember from their conversations. He didn’t remember her sister’s last name but he had managed to track her parents’ number down, only to get an answering machine when he called.

He’d wanted to give up. He almost
had
given up. But the devil on his shoulder and the vision of her liquid brown eyes when she’d told him she wanted to feel him come inside her had him making the three-hour drive from Matt’s lake cottage and cruising by Carrie’s apartment one more time.

Now, staring up at her window he felt pathetic. Pathetic and pissed. He’d fallen hard and deep for this woman, something he’d vowed never to do again. Now as he pushed open his car door, he knew he was going to her at least this one last time. He had to know why. Why she fucking left with only that one phone call. Why, after what they shared, had she turned away from him with no explanation?

Marcus bounded up the stairs two at a time. His heart was in his throat. He was shaking as he knocked heavily on the door. He waited about ten seconds before, unable to find his legendary patience, he started to knock again. Two apartment doors simultaneously flew open.

His eyes locked on Carrie. She stood there looking so damn good. She was wearing an old terry cloth robe, her wet hair hanging in strings around her shoulders. Her face was bare of makeup, and Marcus thought he’d never seen such a beautiful woman in his entire life. His cock rose to attention and he gave a mental curse. Now was so not the time for that.

“You again.”

He cringed as he recognized the old lady from Sunday morning. He shot her a quick glance and was relieved to note that she was not holding a newspaper this time.

“This young man came pounding on your door at an unacceptable hour Sunday morning.”

“It was after ten a.m.,” Marcus growled.

“Sorry, Mrs. Meyers.” Carrie laughed. The old woman sniffed and closed her door.

“Well, are you going to just stand there?” she asked.

Marc drank in the sight of her, forgetting for a moment that he was pissed. “I think I should.”

Her full bottom lip tilted down in confusion. “Ok, but do you really want Mrs. Meyers to hear what you have to say?”

He definitely did not want that old crow knowing his business.

He moved forward into the apartment and shut the door but would not come any farther into her home.

“Marcus, what’s wrong?” She looked so genuinely confused that Marcus saw red.

“What’s
wrong
?” He knew he was yelling but he couldn’t seem to help it. “What the hell kind of question is that? I’m a little disappointed, baby. For such a smart woman, you’re being awfully obtuse.”

Carrie knitted her eyebrows together at his insult. This sure as hell wasn’t the welcome home she expected. He was angry, apparently at her.

“Marcus, I think you need to explain what the hell is wrong with you.” She didn’t even try to keep the bite out of her voice.

“Oh, I don’t know… How about the fact that the woman I love walked out on me without a word?”

“But, Marcus…” Wait. Did he just say the “L” word?

“No. Just stop right there. I’ve been waiting for four fucking days!” He was yelling again. “Was it really so bad?” he asked, stepping up to her, his mouth a scant inch from her lips. “Damn, baby, you sure had me fooled. You’ll have to forgive me for thinking you liked it, the way your body responded to
everything
I did to you.”

Carrie wasn’t sure if she wanted to smack him or kiss the sneer off his face. At the same time, her confusion only grew more. He strode past her and into her small living room.

“I was actually going to come up here and tell you that I would go vanilla for you. That I’d decided if you hated what I wanted so much, I would change for you.” His face was flinty, expressionless as he continued. “I didn’t mean to hurt you or to scare you. I would never deliberately hurt you.” Only his disheveled appearance and the dark circles under his eyes gave away his torment.

He walked past her again. She reached for him but he jerked away from her before she could touch him. She felt like she’d fallen into an episode of
The Twilight Zone
.

“But I can’t be someone else, not even for the woman I love.” His voice caught on the word
love
.

He wouldn’t let her near him, so out of desperation she did the only thing she could think of to catch his attention.

“Marcus Aaron Worthington, you’re a bastard.” Her angry voice stopped him in his tracks. He turned to her, his face red with fury.

She dropped the robe, crossed her wrists behind her head and stood there. A wicked grin spread across her face as Marcus’ eyes flashed silver.

“Now that I have your attention, why don’t you explain to me what
the hell
is wrong with you.” She took a tentative step closer to him. He backed up until his back hit the door, and she rolled her eyes. “Obviously we have gotten our wires crossed.”

“You left me.” His voice sounded almost broken, a sound she would never have expected from him.

“What are you talking about? I didn’t
leave
you. I went
to
my sister. Cassidy went into labor early and I had to get to her as fast as possible. I did, in fact, call you and tell you just that.”

The color drained from his face. He went white and seemed to collapse against the door.

“Besides,” she continued, “when I woke up, you were gone. Nowhere to be found. I had to run in order to catch the next flight to Chicago and I had no way of contacting you.” She sent him a pointed look. “You didn’t have your cell phone with you.”

When Marcus finally responded, it was slowly, as if each word was being dragged out of him.

“I only heard you say that you couldn’t do this, and then goodbye.” He closed his eyes and tipped his head back against the door. “I thought I’d asked too much of you. That I’d hurt you or scared you. That I’d driven you away forever.”

Marcus looked so lost that Carrie almost wanted to take pity on him. Almost. But she knew that her man needed a firm hand, so she stalked up to him, crowding him against the door until she could feel his heat seeping into her naked flesh.

“You know, Marcus,” she gave him back his own words. “For a smart man, you’re acting like an ass. A wonderful, sexy, arrogant ass.” One slender finger poked into his chest with each word. “Even after all we shared, you didn’t give me the slightest hint you wanted anything more than one weekend. How was I supposed to know? It should be me screaming my lungs out.”

Her palms moved to his chest, which was still heaving with emotion. She smoothed his shirt before beginning to unbutton it.

“I tried calling several times this week and you were nowhere to be found.” Her fingers tiptoed over his hot skin and she hummed her enjoyment, leaning forward to lick at one hard, male nipple.

Drawing back a little, she cupped her breasts, offering them to his famished gaze. “And tell me, how many women would do this if they were running from you?”

Marcus felt dizzy as he watched her walk backward and kneel on the carpet, taking her position, red velvet collar circling her delicate throat, presenting him with her newly pierced nipples. All the blood rushed from his head to his dick.

Christ! He
was
an ass. A stupid one, too. The whole time he’d been brooding at Matty’s party cabin, she’d been in Chicago. Carrie hadn’t left him.
Carrie hadn’t left him!
He brought one hand up to his mouth as his eyes devoured the ornaments dangling from those cherry-red nipples.

“God, baby, do they hurt?”

“Oh, yes they do. The girl said they were going be sore for a while. You’ll just have to be extra careful with them.” Her brown eyes fluttered as she answered.

“So are you going to stand there all day and just stare at me?” she asked.

He felt his eyes darken at her sassy attitude. Before she could do more than widen her eyes at him, Marcus pounced on her, pushing her back into the carpet and following her in a rush that stole her breath.

Marcus bit into Carrie’s neck as he whispered, “God, baby, I thought I’d lost you.”

He felt her shudder against him. “Marcus, I thought you only wanted a weekend. And then, after seeing her…”

“Shhh… not now… Soon, but not now. Now I need to be inside of you.”

He clumsily ripped open his jeans, managing to pull them down enough to free his dick and guide the wet head into her entrance.

He thrust home and they both cried out. His mouth trailed a path down her neck and traced hot, damp circles over her breasts, homing in on her waiting nipples. When he carefully licked the pierced buds, Carrie hissed, but when he went to remove his mouth she held the back of his head, keeping him in place.

He couldn’t go hard, so he gently pulled the small golden ring into his mouth, flicking his tongue against the very tip of her nipple. She arched hard against him, grinding her clit into his pubic bone and thrusting her nipple farther into his mouth. He sucked the neglected nipple between his lips, taking his time and making sure his movements were slow and easy.

Carrie’s eyes were dazed as she wrapped her thighs around his ass. “Please, Marcus,” she begged incoherently.

He levered himself up a little, grabbing her hands and placing them over her head. Holding her wrists in one hand, he pumped inside of her. He was raised enough so that his chest didn’t rub her newly pierced nipples but he loved the picture they made swaying as he drove into her over and over again.

His mouth clamped down on hers in a kiss so scorching that, by the time he came up for air, her lips were swollen and red. God, she was so fucking gorgeous and she was his.

Changing his angle, he let go of her and pushed up to his knees. Folding her thighs back, he muttered, “Watch, baby. Watch me move in you. Fuck, you’re so creamy for me. Look, it’s all over my cock.”

She stared at the place where they were joined, her eyes going wide with the wonder of their lovemaking. Marcus placed his finger on her tight little button, rubbing and teasing her to the brink of orgasm over and over until tears formed at the corners of her eyes.

Just when she knew she couldn’t take one more second of his torture, he slowed even more until time stretched like hot taffy and it seemed like he’d been loving her forever, would keep loving her forever.

Nothing had ever been as perfect as this moment. There were no flowers, no silk sheets, none of the trappings of romance. Looking into her eyes, Marcus saw everything he ever needed. She was his, forever. She craved him, just as he was, the way he craved her. Unable to stave off the emotion filling him up, he buried his face in her neck, swallowing back the first tears he’d let fall in five years.

But these were tears of happiness. A kind of happiness that Marcus never dreamed existed between two people. He sounded like a sappy ass, and for once he didn’t give a damn. For Carrie, he was willing to be anything she wanted, anything she needed. And the best part was that she needed him to dominate her in the bedroom. She needed him to love her every day and night.

“Come with me, baby,” he whispered into her ear. She tightened around him and sobbed his name as her release rippled over him, clenching him in a velvet fist. It was too much for him and he let loose, pumping his love and his seed into her sweet recesses.

He managed to roll his weight off of her, going to her side and tucking her against him.

“Now, what was all that business about loving me?” She was giving him a naughty, cheeky smile, and he let his hand drift down her back before smacking her soundly on the butt. When she pouted at him, he relented. Gazing into her eyes, he gave her his soul.

“I love you, Carrie Anderson.” It was short and sweet and not very romantic, but it was everything.