Page 40 of False Promises

I had people to catch me when I tumbled down in my life. For all I knew, she had no one.

I opened my eyes. “Sure. Let me talk to Taylor. I’ll be right back.”

Her fingers intertwined with mine. “Thank you, Carter. You’re a good man. I can already tell.”

From the entryway, Savannah watched as I hurried back to the car.

Minutes later, I was climbing the flight of stairs to Savannah’s apartment on the fifth floor, her hand nestled in mine.

“I wish I could afford a place with an elevator,” she said once we reached the landing. “This is home. It’s not big by any means, but it’s the first place I could afford by myself.” She unlocked the door and pushed herself to the side to let me in.

The entryway had only a couple of hooks on the wall behind the door and a floating shelf under a white-framed mirror. A corridor on our right led to what I assumed were the bedroom and bathroom. Open floor space with a living room and a kitchen doubling as a dining room, the apartment was small but looked inviting. White walls, stainless steel, and red accents. By now, I could tell red was Savannah Prince’s color of choice. From her lipstick to her wardrobe and the pillows on her white couch.

“This is lovely,” I said.

Savannah backhanded my chest. “Stop it. I’m sure you’re used to the rich and famous lifestyle.”

I pushed my hands into my pockets. “Well, contrary to what you might think, I much prefer simple things to over-the-top whatever. Restaurants. Apartments. Hotel suites. Clothing. I’m a small-town guy at heart and will always be. I don’t need fancy to feel fulfilled or happy.”

“It’s refreshing to listen to you. Want some tea? I must have a few varieties somewhere.”

“Sure. Need any help?”

“Nah.” She pointed to the couch on her way to the kitchen, leaving me alone in the living room. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

I studied the picture frames hung on the wall next to the large window offering a view of another building and the busy street below. All shots of Savannah were taken in the last couple of years. In a tiny string bikini on a beach. In gorgeous gowns at what looked like movie premieres. Riding a horse. No one else was featured in any of the shots. Guess I wasn’t the only one not close to his parents. In my penthouse in Nashville and my cabin in Green Mountain, I had pictures of the shows I’d given in the past, Dahlia and Jack, Jeff, my friends back in White Crest, Riley and I at one of the fundraisers we went to, Stud and his family. Platinum albums and the tickets to the first concert I ever gave, framed. It was a mix and match of everyone important in my life. People I cared about. Events and relationships that shaped me into the person I was today.

I felt sad for Savannah as I realized she was all alone in this world. Or at least, appeared to be. I wanted to ask about her family, but after her panic episode earlier at dinner, I refused to open that can of worms tonight.

She joined me and wrapped her arms around my middle from behind, her chin resting in the crook of my neck. “When I was a teenager, I went to an all-girls school and used to compete in equestrian competitions. I had a bad fall, dislocated my shoulder, and had to stop. His name was Savane. It means Savannah in French. We were best friends.”

I turned until we faced each other and combed her hair back. “I’m sorry you had to give it up.”

She shrugged. “Well, it’s okay. It’s in the past anyway.” She detached from me and grabbed the steaming mugs of tea from the coffee table and handed me one. We drank in silence as I pulled her against me and kissed her forehead before we sat side by side on the white leather couch, my arm around her shoulders, holding her close.

“Thanks for dinner,” Savannah said, pivoting to face me. “I didn’t say it earlier, but I had a great time before the incident.” She discarded her empty mug on the floor and shifted until she straddled me. I chugged the rest of my beverage, and she placed the mug next to hers on the floor. “I was thinking I could thank you the proper way.”

Her eyes lit up. The corners of her lips lifted into a crooked smile.

“You don’t have to,” I said, my throat bobbing at the sight of the promises flashing in her eyes. Savannah stared at me like I was her next meal. Gone was the shy girl at dinner, the one who shared about her horse. Back was the woman in the hotel room in New York. The sex maniac I’d experienced for a night.

I tried to swallow, but the intensity of her gaze made the simple action harder than it should have.

Her mouth caressed the corner of mine, and the scent of her—that expensive fragrance I remembered pretty well—tipped all my senses.

Her voice, husky and filled with untamed lust, made every cell of my body tremble with need when she spoke. “What do you say, Carter? Want me to thank you like you deserve to be thanked?”

When I chose to come to LA tonight, it was with the intent to continue what we started in New York. To fuck Savannah Prince out of my system. And move on with my life. But then I discovered a sweeter side of her that reminded me a lot of myself in many ways. And we connected on a deeper level. We shared about our lives. A bit. I told her about my anxiety episodes. And Jeff’s passing. Never in the past had I been that upfront about it with a person I barely knew. Usually, I was much more discreet about my personal life. Something about Savannah’s vulnerable side appealed to me. And the caring side of me took over with the need to protect her from a hurtful past she was trying to leave behind. I’d been that guy. If someone could understand, it was me.

Perhaps Savannah Prince didn’t come into my life by accident. Perhaps we were destined to meet. I never believed in that shit before, but life was clearly sending me a signal. We were too much alike to ignore the coincidences.

When I agreed to come inside her apartment, it was because I believed Savannah needed a friend, but now that her fingers toyed with the fly of my denims and her warm breath tickled the shell of my ear, I was starting to overthink everything.

Her hand wrapped around my hard-on, and all rational thoughts left me.

A strangled growl exited my mouth when she worked me in slow, painful strokes. A tease. Just enough to make me see stars. But not enough to get me to completion.

Her movements accelerated.