All Chapters of The Carrero Heart (series book 2): Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

“Pretty sure we have, more than once. Maybe you were just too drunk to remember. I carried you to bed twice when you stayed here, after a party. Couldn’t trust any of the guys not to climb in with you and make a play for something more, so you slept with me.” I stare at him in disbelief, trying to recall any time I have ever woken up in his bed and seem to remember hazy memories of doing so once or twice, but always alone. I just assumed he let me use his bed and slept elsewhere. It feels kind of nice, in a warm weird way, to know that I have actually slept with him. That he took care of me that way and shared a bed without even knowing I had. My heart expands with affection, appreciating him with a definite smile and losing all the last ounces of shyness.Still my Arry after all.“Always the gentleman.” I giggle, toying with his shoe with the toe of mine still, distracted by the motion, and happier that we are being more like us,

I walk out of my room sassily when I’m dolled up in the figure-hugging cocktail dress. It’s knee length, has a tight pencil skirt and a bust popping upper bodice that has off the shoulder straps and a serious amount of boning to give me a vampy tailored body. I think I’m even more in love with it now than I was the first time I tried it on and it’s one of those dresses that look bland on the hanger, but stunning on a body. It’s definitely not something I would have worn in the past months, to go to some seedy bar with seedy friends, but Arrick’s friends hang out in upmarket, classier clubs, and this dress will totally fit in.“Wow! You look stunning.” He’s on his feet in a flash, his eyes devouring me in a way that is not Arry at all, and I get that he suddenly feels uncomfortable when his eyes drop away with a slight tense of his jawline. He picks up his jacket and slides it on while avoiding looking at me, then I hand hi

We find his group fast, enveloped into handshakes and hugs and I even recognize a couple of familiar faces of people I have accompanied Arrick with over the years. I’m passed from person to person, as we reacquaint and Arrick is caught in the throes of welcomes and back slaps. He’s always been a sociable and friendly guy. He eases into the whole guy among guys thing so fluidly, at home with his circle of friends and at ease to just be Arry. Not a rich Carrero tycoon, or even Arrick Carrero, fighter extraordinaire.The club is pretty cool, one I’m sure I have never been to, and it’s obvious the door fee is higher than most places, by the type of people milling around. It screams trendy, upmarket and stinks of money. I’m surprised that he comes here. I know they usually opt for classier places, but normally he likes more middle ground clubs. Affordable for his friends who are not born into money, and this is not one of those. Knowing him, he probab

Natasha really cannot dance; it’s so bad, it’s painful, but she seems to embrace it like a champ, and we end up giggling ridiculously. I try showing her how to shimmy but she just can’t, how to sexy wiggle, which is worse than bad, and even for the life of me, I try showing her how to just sway side to side and fake a dance, but each and every attempt is just hopeless. I have never known a woman have such little fluidity to her movements as her, and she seems so prim and proper out there that I have to rescue her before this starts to become embarrassing. I shake my head when it’s clear the new faster beat to the next song is beyond her capabilities and drag her back to the bar above, back into the fold of Arrick’s friends in a happier mood, strangely light and forgetting everything else for a minute.When we get back up the stairs, I notice he’s standing at the bank of windows with Nathan and a couple of other men. They’ve been watch

I’m blocked by Camilla, thrusting a champagne glass in my face almost immediately; it’s like she knows my intention and is telling me to back off without saying a word. The glass she gives me is of something clear, and I notice the weird oily swirl running down the center as though something alien has been freshly poured in.I glance from the drink and back to Camilla, catching sight over her shoulder of the girl I’d been about to rescue, being fucked in a corner, pounded against in the most vulgar way, while her face is that same gaping emptiness, and I recoil, nausea rising up. From here, all you see are his back and shoulders, no hint that he’s exposed at the front, his hand pushed hard at the wall, concealing her mostly, while the other keeps her leg up at his hip so he can screw her standing up. Subtle thrusting motions are all that give the game away.