He stepped closer, backing her against the cold bars. ‘And what about Maggie? Does she want to come out to play with me?’
His mouth was so close to hers, she could touch her tongue to his if she dared. She’d bet he tasted sweet, like the red drink he had been slurping on their way here.
She stopped his kiss with a hand pressed against his chest. ‘I have more questions.’
‘Of course you do.’ He pushed forward, she thought to kiss her, but instead the gate swung inwards. ‘It’s my turn to ask a question, though, isn’t it? What do you do for a living?’
She shook her head. ‘No, ask me something else.’
‘Come on. You know where I live. You know where to find me.’
‘Who said I wanted to find you? And I don’t want you finding me, either.’
‘All right, enough of this bullshit.’ He stepped in front of her and blocked the gravel path. ‘I’ve left it wide open for you to walk away, but you’re still here, busting my balls about my motivations for being here when you’re here for the same thing.’
Carrie opened her mouth, but he just went on. ‘You won’t come right out and say it: it’s not taking the pictures that gets you off, it’s the thought of someone out there stroking off to those pictures. That’s why you do it. That’s why you like it. You’re just as dirty as the rest of us, and Maggie, let me tell you, I’m dying to show you how dirty things can get.’
There wasn’t even a hint of a smirk left on his face. His words bled into her skin and trickled through her veins.
Carrie wanted to back away from him, but found herself fixed to the ground like one of the statues around her. This small part of the world she shared with him seemed to close in, and she didn’t so much as flinch when he slipped his arm around her and splayed his hand at the small of her back.
‘You want to be fucked. Tell me, where do you want to be fucked?’
She licked her lips and watched him mirror the action. She felt his cock pressing between them. With the pressure of his hand drawing her closer, it was harder than ever to breathe.
She tilted her head. She intended to shake her head, ‘No,’ but lost the intention entirely halfway through.
‘My place is five minutes from here.’
The corner of his mouth turned up, delectable and tempting. ‘What’s your name?’
She brought her hand up and pressed it against his chest, not to push him away but to steady herself. She struggled through a deep breath and curled her fingers. ‘Carrie. My name is Carrie.’
Having him in her space put her on edge.
Her knees wobbled as soon as she opened the door. She charged on through with Brendan trailing behind her. She found she couldn’t breathe as she stood with her back to him, stripped off her coat and tossed it on to the edge of the sofa.
She was terrified.
‘This is where all your money goes,’ he said quietly, and Carrie turned.
‘Excuse me?’
He stood in front of the door, gaze roaming over every inch of her apartment. ‘You’ve got nice things, expensive things.’
Carrie crossed her arms over her chest, mostly to keep her hands from shaking, but also to show her annoyance. ‘So I like nice things. I buy nice things. What else would I do with my money?’
‘How much did that mirror cost?’
‘What does it matter?’
Brendan shrugged. ‘Just thinking of the other fun things you could have bought with the money.’
She shrugged. ‘It’s a knock-off. Forty bucks at Pier One.’
‘Forty bucks could still get you a lot of goodies to show off.’
He glanced at his shoes and then at her, and with a smirk pushed them off his feet. A mad little panic skittered through her belly.
If he gets too cosy, I can’t push him out the door.
‘Do you want to give me the tour or should I just make myself comfortable?’
‘Right. Sorry.’ She stepped to the centre of the room, ‘This is the living room, obviously. Behind you to the left is the kitchen. It’s not huge or anything, but I only cook once a week and … what?’
He was grinning. ‘I’m not interviewing you for a lifestyle magazine. I just need to know my away around.’
Carrie sucked in a deep breath and tried to relax, but she couldn’t bring herself to unclamp her arms from across her chest. ‘I’m sorry. I’m nervous.’
‘Then you’ll have to settle down.’ He padded around the sofa in his socked feet. ‘Allow me. Living room, obviously.’
As he went to every corner of the room, touching and feeling her things, Carrie just got tighter and tighter. The enormity of what she had done grew with every step he took. As he peered from her window onto the street, she suddenly wanted him out, but now that he was in she had no idea how to make that happen.
Her head was a mess. Part of her wanted to go forward. Part of her wanted to go back to her safe little life.
‘Kitchen. Tiny, but a little bit of counter space,’ he said as he walked through the hall. ‘Bathroom. Big. Big enough for two or more.’
She followed and stood in the doorway as he sized up the tub. ‘You’re looking at every single surface in here and gauging it for … for …’
‘Stability? Comfort? Fuckability? No, not really. Anyone can fuck anywhere if they want it bad enough, but now that you mention it –’ he stepped into the tub and sat down ‘– it’s been a while since I had any fun under running water. Too tricky unless there’s enough room to move. I wouldn’t fuck in here, but there’s definitely enough room to play.’
He stretched out his legs and rested his feet on the lip of the bath, then folded his hands behind his head. ‘You have another camera, don’t you? One with a tripod. Is it waterproof?’
Carrie nodded. The thought of being wet and slippery under the spray with him … oh, my.
‘I always wondered …’ he began, then shook his head. ‘Never mind.’
‘Tell me.’
‘It’s just, the way you come off in those pictures it’s obvious you like the appearance of being fucked. I was wondering if that’s why you decided to go almost completely bare.’ Carrie just burned as, chuckling, he extracted himself from the tub. ‘I’d say that one day you indulged a little while shaving, and you’ve been that way ever since because you like the way it looks and feels.’
The butterflies in her stomach went mad as he paused in the bedroom door. ‘Now this is telling me something. There’s never a good shot, but I had my suspicions.’
‘What?’
‘This bed.’ He hopped onto the mattress and knelt at the foot of the bed, one hand on the iron poster and the other resting on the throw tossed over the footboard. ‘I mean, Jesus Christ, this is the type of bed a woman buys when she wants to be fucked hard.’
She stepped forward and fingered one of the sheer curtains. ‘I bought this because –’
‘Yeah, yeah, whatever. You bought the bed so you could block out as much light as possible. You bought it because it was on sale. You bought