Ember
I had planned to channel the anger from the morning into the kitchen. Carter, apparently, had different plans.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Kissing your neck,” he said, finding my sweet spot. A moan escaped before I could stop it, and he took that as his answer. The elevator opened into a large, elegant room — a few couches, a bar area, and a huge one-way window overlooking the restaurant floor below. I turned into his arms and he took my mouth. The kiss was hot and urgent and I had nearly forgotten I was angry. Nearly.
“Carter, we have to work,” I said against his lips.
“Little Red, when you hurt, we all feel it. Every one of us. Even Damien, whether he likes it or not. Let me help,” he said, lifting my chin.
I sighed. A distraction was not the worst idea in the world.
“Wh
