The Carrero Solution (Carrero Book 3)

Jake groans against my neck as my hand closes around him inside his boxers. I almost jerk out of his hands with pleasure as his fingers find what I’ve wanted from him for weeks. Lack of touch down there has me at my most sensitive, and I can already tell that I’ll cum the second he is inside of me, not just those wickedly good fingers. Jake’s mouth captures mine again as he slides his hand in a rhythmic motion, and I start the familiar internal building of hot waves and clenching pleasure. It’s happening too fast. Weeks of not being touched are making my body long to climax. I’m over-sensitive; at this rate, it will be over before it’s started. I don’t want it that way. I want to savor this and enjoy it. I have him back in his entirety, and I want it to be everything I’ve been dreaming of.

“Jake, wait.” I pant as my legs start trembling. I don’t want it this way. I want us to get past his emotional barrier and have him inside of me, all hot hardness of him. If he makes me finish before he starts, he might not follow through, and I need him more than air right now. I need his body and mine as one. He buries his face in my neck again, kissing me and pushing further into the rhythm our grinding has created with subtle moans.

“Jake? Emma?” A voice rings through the house rather loudly. The familiar song of a woman that you don’t want catching you up against a wall with her son; semi-naked and about to screw you. Jake immediately snaps his head up and looks at me in sheer surprise.

“Fuck, it’s my mom.” Jake pulls his fingers out of me, slides me down to my feet, and hauls down my dress, throwing a quick kiss on the corner of my mouth before retrieving his T-shirt from the floor and yanking it on crazily in one fell swoop; a move suggesting this isn’t the first time he’s almost been caught red-handed by her.

Noooooooooooo!

I huff and pick up my cardigan, previously discarded on the floor next to me. Jake adjusts himself and buttons his jeans in almost lightning flash speed, already walking toward the door to see Sylvana while I sort myself back from the frazzled horny mess we’ve gotten ourselves into. My face is on fire, and my body is screaming for release, tingling in a crazy motion, making me as cranky as sin. I want to cry or kick something … really, really, hard. We were so goddamn close!

Jake was so close to getting over whatever this bloody stupid fucking thing is.

I stomp around in a circle, buttoning up my cardigan and straightening my dress, trying hard to bring some calm to the fury of hormones ravaging me.

Maybe smashing something will help.

We were so close to him trying again, but now, with the interruption from his mother, I’m not sure he will do that anymore, especially if cooling off while talking to Sylvana gives him time to re-think all this; make him go back to not wanting to try at all. It was unplanned and completely fueled by the thought of Daniel and Leila marking his territory. I could scream right now!

How on Earth am I going to find a way to get that spark back in him to where we’d almost been?

My skin is still tingling with the memory of his touch, and I am sure as hell not going back to its absence. That sizzling sensation on my body has me aching with longing, a pain so intense that I am not, in any way, going to let this go. I need Jake to have sex with me, or I will go insane.

I wander into the hall and am greeted with the sight of mother and son talking. Jake looks unruffled and normal, not that it surprises me. Even after full-blown, mind-numbing sex, he has a knack for looking completely fine. Sylvana, on the other hand, looks flustered and completely uncomfortable.

There’s an embarrassingly loud wailing sound echoing from upstairs, which is much louder out here than in the room I just left, traveling due to having no furniture or floor coverings in the empty echoing house. Sylvana’s face turns beetroot as the noise pitches higher.

Yes, we’re standing here listening to Leila having what sounds like an earth-shattering orgasm right now … Lovely.

“So, yeah, I’ll bring Emma over soon, Mamma. We won’t be long.” Jake kisses her on the cheek and walks

her to the door talking loudly to cover the moans still happening overhead, trying his hardest to get her out the door fast. Jake is still an old-fashioned boy at heart, and subjecting his mother to any kind of sexual noise is almost as painful for him as it is for her. He looks positively agitated. I’m trying not to count how many seconds it’s lasting, annoyed with green-eyed jealousy as I glare at Jake’s back, a little moodily, and curse internally at our interruption.

It should be me making all that noise.

I don’t know why Sylvana was here or if her departure is because of the obviously cringe-worthy noises upstairs, but I can’t help but sigh with disappointment. The noise upstairs reaches its pinnacle with a rather embarrassing long, drawn-out scream and then deafening silence.

Thank God for that.

Jake shuts the front door and looks toward the ceiling with a hint of the Carrero Death Glare before slowly walking back to me. He lets out a long breath and glances back at the door, checking if his mother is completely out of earshot.

“Remind me later to beat the shit out of Danny.” He grumbles and takes my hand loosely. He has that whole aura of distance again with a calm and gentlemanly touch that screams celibate. I immediately get the vibe that what started between us will not continue at all.

“Why’d your mom leave so soon?” I ask with more than a little attitude. Jake looks at me with a frown and raised eyebrow combo, pointing out the obvious.

Ah okay. So maybe I would’ve run off too, if I hadn’t been in the middle of trying to achieve the same noises myself.

“About before, Emma, maybe we should leave it for a bit.” Jake avoids looking at me. That urge to bash him on the head takes me over, disappointed rage, and crazy hormones rise, hitting me hard.

I goddamn knew it.

“Not a fucking chance.” I snap in complete tantrum mode and yank my hand out of his. “I’ve had enough of this. You’re more than capable, as you’ve just proven, and if you don’t make good on what you started in there at some point today … then I’m going back to Queens until you fucking well do!” I spit harshly, lifting my chin toward him in complete frustration, weeks of pent-up sexual desire kicking in. Jake gawps, totally taken aback by this sudden and very loud verbal defiance, and raises his hands in defense.

“Emma …” Jake puts a hand to my face, and I slap it away, a Leila-type maneuver coming in handy. I am so beyond angry right now, and the lack of sex between us has finally come to a head. I can’t handle this anymore. It’s torture.

“Don’t goddamn “Emma” me!” Tears prick at my eyes through sheer exasperation. This situation is getting beyond ridiculous, and if I’m being honest, it’s not just about the lack of sex either.

“You don’t want me, do you?” I spit as tears start falling hard. “You don’t get the same lust I used to make you feel?” His face crumbles as he steps toward me, but I step back. He looks devastated, which only upsets me more but makes me think that maybe, finally, I’ve hit a nerve.

“Baby?” He tries to reach out for me again, but I hit his hand away, harder than before, fueled by heartbreak and emotions cruising through me at speed, pain aching inside.

“No. Don’t touch me unless you’re going to have sex with me! Do you have any idea how it feels having you go from being unable to keep your hands off me to this?” I wipe the tear away from my chin angrily, moving anytime he tries to catch hold of me. Every frustration of the past few weeks is bubbling to the surface in an extreme emotional breakdown and raging insecurity, raising an ugly, tortured head.

“It’s not like that, Emma … You know I still want you that way.” He’s trying, but I’m not interested in hearing it, so fueled by hormones and frustration, my irrational mood is moving back in. His actions of late haven’t shown me that he still feels that way, and now it’s no longer good enough to just hope.

“I want the Jake Carrero with zero ability to stop lust and love consuming him. Where is he? The guy who screwed me in the back of a limo and the guy who pushed me against a hotel wall. Because that’s who I fucking need!” I’m stomping around, waving my hands, letting all fury loose, Teen Emma throwing her ponytail back in defiance.

“Emma, I don’t know what else to say.” Jake’s face is a mix of panic and pain, holding up his hands in a defensive manner, and he has no clue how to handle my sudden outburst or this version of me. This was supposed to be a happy day, getting the keys to our first home and coming to see it now that it’s all ours. It’s ruined because our friends were too horny to get out of this house before having a quickie, and it makes me aware that they are behaving exactly like we used to.

“You haven’t touched me that way since you kissed her!” I snap loudly, and his expression instantly turns sheepish. I swear I see the blood drain from his face, and I falter for a moment as a tiny flash of doubt comes back to haunt me from that bitch’s words. Maybe he did do more than kiss her? I shake it away as stupid.

“I know.” He drops his gaze to the floor and closes his eyes. “I know how this looks, Bambina, but it’s not like that. Hurting you, breaking up, and then the baby fucked my head up more than I know how to explain, and I’m scared to have sex with you.” His voice is low and sincere, and it stops my rampant storming around almost instantly. I calmly turn to him, holding the crazy still for an explanation.

“Because of the baby? Talk to me, Jake, because this is killing me.” I beg him, moving toward him, holding onto the hem of his jumper like a vulnerable child, trying to understand.

“Every time I get close, Emma, all I can see is how you looked at me that night. It’s not just about the baby. It’s about how much I hurt you!” His eyes come to meet mine and flit down to my mouth, unable to rest on one feature, from eyes to mouth and back, as though all he’s thinking about is kissing me. I’m shocked into silence by this unexpected confession.

“What do you mean?” I breathe softly. He slides his hands over my shoulders and pulls me closer so we’re nose to nose.

“I told you I needed to learn to forgive myself too and that’s what’s stopping me. I haven’t forgiven myself for hurting you. It doesn’t matter that you seem to be able to forgive me and love me. I still feel like a complete shitty asshole for what I did to you. I don’t deserve every part of you back, Emma. When I look at you, it kills me that I hurt you. This perfect, angelic, trusting face that looks at me like I’m her everything. Don’t you see how much it hurts to know the sadness you carried in these beautiful eyes for the past few months is because of me? Not some bastard from your past but me … That I hurt you, baby…. I never wanted to be that guy to you. When you told me what happened to you, I swore to myself, right there and then, that I’d never do that to you. I’d never do anything to put that look of devastation there again, but I did, and I saw it, and no matter how hard I’ve tried, I can’t get your broken face out of my head anytime I think of touching you that way.” Jake’s voice breaks.

His hands tighten on my shoulders, and he clears his throat to dislodge the intense emotions caught there. I am stupefied into silence. My head is racing around in circles, unable to formulate one sentence with the mish-mash of thoughts brimming through my brain. My heart is aching between love at what he’s saying, how deeply scarred it has made him, and by sadness that he can’t overcome in the way I have.

“Jake … If I can forgive you, then all of this is stupid.” I blink up at him and see nothing but guilt and self-hatred looking back. This is never what I wanted for him; this is not how I want him to still feel about what he did. I need to fix this because this is not the Jake I want or the one I know he can be.

I lift my hand to his on my shoulder and clutch it, pulling it down, then turn with complete determination and yank him with me. He follows obediently like a child as though he somehow knows I’m in no mood to be questioned or refused. I storm straight for the front hall, hauling him with me at speed before he can protest. I turn at the stair and pull him after me. He’s being compliant, letting me, for the first time in existence, be the one to take charge without argument; a part of me tells me he wants this as much as I do. I’m empowered and not in the mood for any resistance.

Daniel and Leila appear at the top of the stairs as we level them, looking a little disheveled. Daniel is sporting a bloody nose and a grin like the Cheshire Cat; I don’t want to know. They obviously have some severely kinky preferences, and Daniel is more than able to handle Leila at her absolute worst. She seems to look a little less aggressive, at least, and as his hand is on her ass without any refusal from her, I assume it’s all good.