A Bossy Roommate (Next Door to a Billionaire #2)

25. Eden

25

EDEN

S eriously. How does Hattie do that? Does she have a hidden camera somewhere? Does she stand by the door, looking out the peephole to see when I’m coming? I need to know how that woman always seems to be ready and waiting to greet me when I come home from work.

Except this time, it isn’t just Hattie. Eleanor stands with her, both of them ogling me. I have a brief moment where my brain goes, Oh, no, there’s two of them.

They both say my name enthusiastically.

“Eden! There you are, dear!”

“Eden! Welcome home, ma chère !” Eleanor pulls me into a tight hug, and I do my best to balance the cookies in one hand as I return the embrace.

Likewise, she has a glass of wine in her hand that she’s careful not to spill. “We were just going to sit down to a game of Scrabble. You should join us!”

The idea of sitting with two elderly ladies playing Scrabble and drinking wine actually sounds ridiculously fun, especially with these two ladies specifically. But there’s still the issue of being allergic to Hattie’s apartment—and there’s Carter. Completely isolated Carter.

I offer a sad expression. “I’d love to but?—”

Hattie speaks up for me. “I’m quite certain she would prefer to spend her evening with her husband, love.” She smiles, and I swear I can see her nudging Eleanor’s arm before looking back up at me. “We certainly wouldn’t want to intrude upon what might be a romantic date night.”

“Oh, yes, yes, of course, I get it,” Auntie says. “You don’t want us four-wheeling on your date night. We’ll just be over here, on our best behavior.”

I nod with a bright smile, seizing my opportunity. “Which reminds me, I should go get ready before he gets home. Oh, care for cookies?”

“Funnily enough, we were just on the verge of whipping up our own batch,” Hattie says, “but we’d be delighted to sample yours instead, my dear.”

I extend the box of cookies, and Auntie’s gaze immediately lands on it.

“Cookies? Oh, I thought you said ‘cocktails,’” Eleanor says. “Good, we’ll take the cookies, anyway.”

They reach into the box and grab some.

“We’ll pretend we made them ourselves,” Eleanor says. “Don’t tell anyone!”

I laugh. “Your secret is safe with me. Have fun, ladies.”

I let myself into the apartment. As embarrassing as it is that they know exactly what Carter and I will be getting up to, at least there’ll be no interruptions this time. It’s practically guaranteed after that conversation.

I put the cookies on the counter and then head to the bedroom and then to the bathroom to take a quick shower (belting out the lyrics to “Can’t Help Falling in Love” by Elvis). It’s not until I start going through my minuscule wardrobe that I pause and realize what I’m doing. Hattie had been the one to call it a date, not me or Carter. Why am I acting like it is one? Carter and I have dinner all the time—what the hell makes me think tonight will be a date? He never said it was and hasn’t given me any indication it will be.

Crap.

I sit on the bed, taking a moment to collect myself. Without noticing, without even realizing it, Carter has wormed his way into my heart. How has that happened? When did that happen? That can’t happen.

I can’t have feelings for him. I shouldn’t have feelings for him.

There’s a laundry list of reasons why, but it really all comes down to the big three: he’s my boss, our marriage is fake, and I’m leaving in six months.

I hear the door open and the familiar sound of Carter’s boots across the hardwood floor. Pulling myself together, I put away the clothes I had been ransacking and go to greet him.

He’s in the kitchen already, shuffling through a stack of mail. Standing there all casual, with a hint of scruff on his jawline, he looks effortlessly irresistible. His leather jacket is folded over one of the kitchen chairs, and he’s untied his tie but left it hanging around his neck. The top buttons of his dark-gray shirt are undone, and he’s rolled the sleeves up past his elbows.

How dare he?

Inked sleeves. Heavens .

There’s something about a well-groomed man being half-dressed, showing off his tattoos that makes me clench my thighs together. Especially this well-groomed man.

“I ordered dinner before I left, so it should be here soon,” he rumbles, not looking up from his pile of mail.

“Awesome,” I chirp, trying to act like my libido hadn’t shot through the roof the second I came in. “I got cookies. They’re in the kitchen. Did you see your aunt?”

“Yeah, I stopped by there a minute ago. Had to scold Hattie for making sangria, but lord knows they won’t listen to a damn thing I say.” He puts the mail down and removes his gray tie all the way, wrapping it around his hand in the process.

My mouth drops open a little. If only my hair could have such fun…

When he finally looks up at me, he stills. Next, he playfully raises his eyebrow. “You see something you like?”

Busted.

Shit. Am I drooling?

“Not really,” I lie, moving across the room toward him. “Not sure what you mean.” I’m a lying liar who lies, and he knows it. My whole body screams, “ Take me !”

Carter’s gaze still on me, he picks up his jacket and makes his way around the table. “That’s not what I heard.”

“What do you mean?” Damn. Did I say something out loud? Surely not.

“I mean, two ladies just told me that my wife had plans for a date night tonight. I wasn’t aware we had a date night.”

At that, I laugh and shake my head. Thanks, ladies! “Oh, my God, those two are going to be the death of me. Hattie was the one who said the words ‘date night.’ All I did was try to politely bow out of a conversation.”

“I warned you.”

“Yes, yes, you did.”

“So, no date night then?”

My heart skips a beat. “You were the one who talked about wine and dinner. I should be asking you the same thing.”

“After that phone call, it looked like you needed it.”

Instant mood killer. I’ve been doing my best to not think about the call, and it had worked very well up until he mentioned it. I make a face and sit on the nearest chair. “Ugh, don’t remind me.”

For two seconds, Carter puts his hand on my shoulder—my heart stutters for those two seconds—as he walks by on his way to our room. His room. Not our room.

“We’ll open some wine,” I hear him rumble, “and you can tell me all about it. Let me take a quick shower first.”

“I don’t think you have enough wine to cover the whole story.”

“We’ll make do.”

While he goes to shower, all naked and tattooed and hot, I busy myself in the kitchen. I need to find something to focus on, something other than the pounding of my heart and the casual comfort Carter is willing to provide. Add to the fact my brain decides to think about all our special encounters, including how close he sat next to me at lunch, how his arm was around my shoulders, and I know if he comes into the kitchen and touches me in any way, I’m going to jump his bones.

Ding-dong. Ding-dong.

Luckily, dinner arrives, distracting me.

“I’ve got it.” Carter comes to answer the door, dressed in black jeans and a black long-sleeved shirt. The shirt is tight enough that I can see his muscles just barely straining through the fabric. I force myself to look away, because if he catches me staring—again—I’ll never live it down.

Instead, I unpack the food and finish setting the table, while he goes to pick out wine. He’s ordered pasta with marinara sauce this time. The delicious smell of tomato sauce elevated by sautéed mushrooms and assorted vegetables fills the room. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I fill our plates, and when he returns with a bottle of white wine a minute later, I’m already picking up my fork.

“All right, spill,” he says. “What happened?”

I spend the next ten minutes telling him about the phone call with my attorney, revealing the harsh truth that winning a case against Rob is outright impossible. That it feels like I’m getting farther and farther away from any sense of justice because I have no proof. I admit to Carter that it was a consequence of my own actions, my own foolishness. I had placed my trust in a man who had turned out to be a master manipulator of words. His extensive network of friends and connections are a result of his expertly crafted fa?ade, and I can’t compete with that.

By the time I’m done, Carter is shaking his head. “Ridiculous. I don’t want to accept that.”

I sigh, pushing my food around with my fork, not very hungry anymore. “And you want to know what the most screwed-up part is?”

“All of it?”

“Besides that. I was the bold one. I was the one who took the leap and asked him to marry me. I even told all my friends about it, feeling so proud that I’d made the first step, defying conventional rituals.”

I pause. Oddly enough, I don’t find it as difficult as usual to admit to why I’m hurting—especially to a man who hardly ever messes up. Gathering up the last shred of bravery I have, I finally voice what is causing such turmoil that I hadn’t even shared it with my own sister. “Finding that one true love has always been my biggest dream. To be with one man for the rest of my life, knowing that we can overcome anything together, from reconciling after the worst arguments, to wholeheartedly backing us in all our crazy pursuits and heartfelt endeavors, and ultimately, growing old together, hand in hand…you know, being able to share everything without the fear of being abandoned…”

I pause and look at Carter. His gaze is tender, soft even, and he nods once, slowly, as if this thought is new to him, but not necessarily a bad thing.

“In short,” I continue, “I wanted to be loved for who I was. I thought Rob was the man who loved me unconditionally.” I take another deep breath. “So, I popped the question and asked him to become my husband. Consequently, it came back to bite me. He claimed that I ‘forced myself upon him’ and he justified his actions of safeguarding our joint financial resources as a means to protect himself from potential misuse. According to him, I was driven by my bruised ego after he backed out. It struck a chord with those who were unaware of the truth, despite my numerous attempts to set things straight. But I guess it was a good life lesson…luckily, I found out before I said I do. Imagine being stuck with him, ugh!”

“Don’t do that.”

I frown, glancing up at Carter. He stares at me with a serious expression. “Don’t do what?”

“Don’t backtrack.”

“I’m not backtracking. I’m trying to stay positive.”

“You don’t have to put other people’s feelings before yours to be positive.”

“That’s not what I was doing. I was only saying that I could take it as a good thing that I wasn’t stuck in a shitty marriage with a man who doesn’t love me and doesn’t deserve me.”

“Why is that a good thing when the outcome of everything was a complete disaster? You know, Eden, let me share with you one of the most profound realizations I’ve had in my lifetime: Shit happens.”

I snort, grateful that he made me laugh.

“There’s no point in blaming yourself when it’s blatantly evident that you’re not at fault,” he continues. “You move forward, focusing on your goals. And you never backtrack, and you never apologize for standing your ground. Simple as that.”

For once, I have no response. I sit there for a moment, thinking about what Carter said. “I see your point,” I tell him.

“But also give yourself more time to process the fact there are plenty of shitheads around, and while you do that, don’t let a shithead get inside your head. Just like with Huxley. You met the CFO, and pretty much immediately, you realized he’s one of those shitheads.”

I nod. Carter’s right. I had disliked Huxley from the very beginning, not just because of his outdated, condescending 1950s attitude toward working women.

“Can you imagine that he managed to deceive even me once?” he asks.

“You? You fell for Huxley?”

There’s something in his gaze, something vulnerable that oddly makes him appear even stronger. He nods, a grin turning up his lips. “I was young and inexperienced. Under his direction, I devised a strategic plan aimed at yielding favorable results for the company. During my presentation, Huxley diverted the conversation by introducing doubts and questions about my plan.” Little by little, the smile fades. “I’m serious, Eden. You know how much Legacy means to me and how hard I work every day to become partner. It’s not just about being the best, although that’s pretty important to me. I want to strengthen Legacy in every way I can. I want to be part of something bigger and meaningful—of a company where we create opportunities, where we drive innovation and shape the direction of the industry. Where people enjoy working. Where they get job stability and the salary they deserve. Where we’re cultivating the best out of people and giving them ownership and opportunities for growth and leadership as we continue to expand. Where we empower them. It’s always been like that. The nine-to-five routine and a picket fence existence,” he gives me a mischievous look, “that has never been what I wanted.”

My heart melts. I know Carter is a strict but fair boss, but hearing him reveal a part of his soul—a very hardworking and ambitious soul—stirs and awakens something inside me.

“Back to Huxley,” he continues. “It didn’t take long for me to see through him, but unlike you, I took that mistake as a lesson and moved on. You should do the same. With Rob.”

That’s actually good advice, and his words make me smile. For some reason, they calm my stormy heart. Hopefully, giving myself time and space to understand and accept this new phase in my life will help me come to terms with my shaken sense of self-worth.

“Thank you, Carter.”

“You’re welcome. Anytime.” Carter holds his wineglass out in a toast, and I tap my glass to his. “Also, I’ll talk to Vance, if you’re okay with it. There must be something that can be done, and the fact that your lawyer took so long to call you back is unacceptable—and pretty shitty. Your ex-fiancé is not going to get away with this. This will also help you get some closure.”

“Really? I wouldn’t want to waste your lawyer’s time. I might not be able to pay for?—”

“Hush,” he interjects, his tone filled with the assurance that he will handle it. “Vance is the best in his field.”

“Carter, I don’t know what to say. I wasn’t expecting you to ask about it, much less while at work today. You’re always so adamant about not getting personal in the office.”

“I’m not a robot, Eden. I do feel sympathy and empathy. When my usually happy and level-headed assistant has a twenty-minute phone call and comes back clearly upset and distracted, I’m not going to ignore it.”

“Well, whatever the reason, I appreciated it.”

“Also, thanks for that quick thinking with my aunt. I still cannot believe she showed up and spilled the beans like that.” He laughs. Actually laughs.

“Don’t mention it.” Just the sound of his laugh is enough to make me break out into a fit of giggles.

“Ready for the good news?”

“Absolutely.” I beam.

“We sealed the deal with Harbor View, and I have you to thank for that.”

My eyebrows go up in surprise. “Why? You were the one who did all the work. All I did was assist you.”

“No, that wasn’t all you did. First, you warned me about Huxley, which I greatly appreciated, and your advice was spot on. Joe and Adam were on the fence, but our conversation provided me with a clear understanding of how and where to tackle the problem to drive the account home. On top of all that, they couldn’t stop singing your praises.”

Thrilled is an understatement. I’d never imagined my overhearing Huxley’s phone call would lead to such a favorable outcome, especially after Carter had initially more or less dismissed it. I’m also struck by the fact the clients had mentioned me.

Carter finishes the last bit of wine in his glass. When he puts his glass down, he reaches over to grab my hand. “How about dessert?”

The smolder in his eyes and the smirk on his face lets me know he’s not talking about the cookies that sit waiting on the counter. Smiling back at him, I down the rest of my wine as well and allow him to pull me to my feet.

We’re done playing around.

We’re done waiting.

I’ve barely pushed my chair back when his mouth is on mine, his hand reaching up to cup my cheek. I melt into his embrace, pressing my body against the solid warmth of his chest. He kisses me like he’s starved, like we haven’t kissed in weeks when it has only been a day.

Melting under his kiss, I prepare myself for the wreckage.

“I want to break our rules,” he rumbles in his baritone.

“Okay,” I breathe.

Just like that.

In a heartbeat.

The next thing I know, he lifts me off the ground.

With a squeak of delighted surprise, I wrap my legs around his waist. His hands cradle my ass as he carries me down the hall and kicks the door of the bedroom open.

Everything feels tight, like I’m on edge, waiting for him to touch me, to light my body aflame again. With one hand holding my back, he lowers me onto the bed, the weight of his body sending a thrill of excitement through me. I love feeling him on top of me, feeling the powerful lines of his muscles and the way his hands explore every bit of me he can reach.

Carter only breaks the kiss to pull my shirt up over my head, and slide my skirt down, dropping the items off to the side. The moment they’re out of the way, his mouth returns to mine and his hand slides up my torso to my breasts.

When he draws back, it’s not my body he stares at.

He gazes into my eyes as if he wants to delve into the depths of my soul.

“Baby,” he whispers, his lips brushing over mine.

“Yes?”

“Now,” he pauses for a moment, murmuring against my mouth, “I will take care of you. I will fuck you happy, baby. That’s a promise.”

And just like that, I know I’m a goner.

He pulls me close. His hot breath grazes my neck as his lips trail down my body, his mouth devouring mine, and his hand touching, groping, exploring my body. His hands roam hungrily over my skin, intensifying my desire for him thousandfold. His grip tightens, almost mercilessly, as if he can’t bear to lose physical contact for a second. Despite the need in his eyes, he holds back, and I feel my pleasure growing and growing until it’s unbearable.

I probably fell in love the moment I saw him in that ice cream shop. Carter makes me come alive in ways I didn’t think were possible.

With a growl, he sits back on his heels, taking the hem of his shirt and pulling it up and off. I can hear the rustling of clothes and the sound of his breathing as he inhales and exhales like some sort of beast.

I can almost feel the muscles moving beneath my fingertips and the hair on his chest. I long to touch his tattoos. Each are a part of him. Each tells a story. On Carter’s muscled body, the ink dances across his skin. Maybe it’s just my imagination, but the hawk on his skin appears hungry. It looks as if the predator is poised to swoop down and consume its prey. From what I can see, it seems likely it will achieve its goal. In fact, it’s the most compliant quarry he’s ever come across. I can’t help but run my hands up the hard planes of his chest, touching the beast, sucking in a breath as the muscles twitch under my palms.

The world turns. Every breath is a rumble of thunder, every heartbeat a dull drum beating to the rhythm of our passion. My skin feels hot and feverish under his fingers.

Carter hovers over me, only in his jeans now, but this time, the kisses aren’t for my mouth. They’re for my cheek, my throat, my collarbone, the valley between my breasts…lower and lower he moves until he slides between my legs.

I run my fingers through his hair as his tongue slips inside me.

With each kiss, nibble, and lick, I find myself losing every ounce of control. Not that I have much to begin with when it comes to him. I hadn’t had that first night together, and I sure as hell don’t have any in this moment. Every nerve screams for him, every muscle clenches and waits for the pleasure this man brings.

His expert touch sends ripples of pleasure through my body, and I bite my lip to keep from crying out. Carter’s mouth and fingers are magical, bringing me closer to the brink repeatedly before backing off, leaving me sweaty, shaking, and wanting. I beg for that sweet release, shamelessly writhing, and moaning his name until he’s merciful enough to give me what I want.

An electric pleasure rushes through me, crackling like powerful sparks. I can feel Carter in every nerve in my body as I come beneath him.

When I return to myself, he’s on his knees in front of me, his fingers nimbly undoing the button of his jeans. He pushes them and his boxers down, letting me finally get another look at him. Knowing that he not only wants to fuck, but love me, rid me of the pain in my heart, is almost too much.

I reach for him as he lowers himself on the bed. My arms circle his neck, and I kiss him, trying to pour everything I’m feeling into one simple action. I want him to know what he does to me, to my soul. I want him to know how much I want him in case it isn’t obvious that he can turn me to ash with one fiery look. He lies on top of me, fits us together, this time skin to skin, my breasts pressing into his pecs. His cock is pressed against my thigh, hard and ready to be inside me.

With his arms left and right of my shoulders, caging me in, he nudges my legs farther apart with his knees.

“Tell me, ‘Fuck me, babe,’” he growls.

I do, without hesitation. “Fuck me, babe,” I whisper.

Slowly, he pushes into me, only to still when his tip fills me.

His eyes connect with mine.

He peers at me through his long, dark eyelashes, winks, and patiently waits.

Just when I’m about to protest, he pushes deeper with one smooth thrust.

“Ohhh…” I gasp and slide my arms around him, pulling him into another kiss.

Carter doesn’t move at first. He stays there, buried inside me while he kisses the life out of me, leaving me breathless and wanting more. “See how perfectly you were made for me.”

He begins to move, the pace of his thrusts slow, leisurely even, like everything else has been tonight. He fucks me with a delicious force I can’t get enough of. He won’t stop kissing me, will leave my lips only to growl into my ear, tell me how perfect I feel, how flawless I am, how deliciously I squeeze his cock, how much he loves fucking me. That my soul, my body, and my pussy are his. And that he will fuck me as long as it will take, until I start to believe again.

I cling to him, my legs circle him.

I can’t say what I want to say.

I try to let my body do the talking. I let myself go and give every part of me to Carter. I’m his, heart, body, and soul. And I will never ever say it aloud.

He starts to go faster. I know when he’s close. His pace becomes relentless, and his mouth travels away from my lips to release a groan, to latch onto my throat, kissing and sucking the sensitive flesh.

“Fuck, baby, fuck ,” he groans.

My breathing and moaning take control of me. I’m surrounded by him, enveloped by the scent of his skin, the feeling of his hands, mouth, voice, his cock, and when I can’t hold back anymore, I give in and let him consume me.

I fall over the edge, moaning his name.

His forehead presses against mine, mouth slotted over mine, stealing what little breath I have left. I feel his hips jerk, dominantly, hard, once, twice, and then he’s still, locked into place as his cock pulses and his own release takes over, followed by a final groan.

We collapse.

For a few endless moments, we remain locked, not letting go of each other.

When he slides out of me, he lies down by my side, pulling me with him so we’re face to face, giving me a chance to finally move. If I could. My body hasn’t started working again, so I’m perfectly content to just lie there, struggling to catch my breath.

“That was perfect, baby,” he rumbles, his voice hoarse and his eyes hooded with post-orgasmic bliss as he pulls me closer against his body.

I tuck my head under his chin, pressing myself against his broad chest. “Yes, more than anything. Not sure if I’m going to be able to walk tomorrow.”

Carter reaches out to slap my ass. “If you’re not sure, then I haven’t done my job properly.”

“Trust me, you did it well and then some.” I roll over onto my back, half-snuggling into Carter and half spread out. “By the way, that position is maybe my new favorite.”

“It’s maybe my new favorite too.” He chuckles and glances at the alarm clock on his nightstand. “We should get some sleep,” he says through a yawn. “We have to be up early to get to work.”

“And here I thought we were going to keep going until we passed out from exhaustion. That’s too bad.”

Carter raises his eyebrow. “Was that a challenge?”

“It could be.”

In the blink of an eye, I find Carter on top of me again, his mouth colliding with mine in a kiss that leaves me even more breathless than I already am.

He growls my name, his hand cupping my breast while he lowers his mouth to my nipple. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”