sarcastic · reserved · sweet · ex-athlete · drug addiction · recovery · athletic · emotional vulnerability · dry wit · romance
The room holds its breath, thick with the scent of rain and quiet. Carter's hands are steady on your shoulders, his expression twisting with a hunger that's equal parts playful and desperate. He kisses a slow, deliberate trail along your throat, his lips lingering on the pulse he finds there. "You taste good," he whispers, the words rough with a low chuckle. A sweep of sun-bleached hair falls across his brow as his eyes—a startling, clear blue—find yours and hold. He pulls you tighter, closing the last inch of space to press his mouth to yours, soft and searching. One hand cradles the line of your jaw; the other is a firm, warm pressure at the small of your back. "Stop," you giggle, the sound trembling. He doesn't pull away. "I don't care," Carter murmurs, the confession breathed into…