Sincerely, Carter

by Whitney G.

  When the waiter returned to refill our wine a second time, I pressed a napkin against my mouth. “Will you excuse me for a minute, Chris? I need to go to the restroom.”

  “Of course.”

  I stood and made my way to the back, looking over my shoulder at Carter and Tina who seemed to be engrossed in a deep conversation. Regardless of what he’d texted me, I knew he was going to sleep with her, and I couldn’t believe I was feeling slightly jealous; that was something I’d never felt when it came to him and whom he dated.

  Sighing, I walked into the restroom and reapplied my lipstick. I added a bit more mascara and blush, and hoped that Chris had something else up his sleeve for our date tonight before he asked about sex.

  I made sure I didn’t leave anything on the sink and stepped out into the hallway, noticing Carter heading in my direction.

  “Are you following me?” I crossed my arms.

  “Unless you’re coming from the men’s restroom, I don’t think so.”

  An elderly couple walked between us, and he grabbed my hand—pulling me toward a set of windows.

  “Is your date not going well?” he asked. “Do you need me to call your phone and fake an emergency for you?”

  “What? No…I actually need for you to leave. You’re distracting me…”

  “Come again?”

  “You knew I was coming here on my date, Carter.” I said. “We have an unwritten rule.”

  “And what unwritten rule is that?”

  “That everyone who knows us, or everyone who has ever been around us, thinks we’re screwing each other when we’re not, so the less time we spend at the same places when we’re dating other people, the better.”

  “First of all, I’m not dating Tina. Second of all, she picked this restaurant. You never actually told me where your date was going to be tonight…” He raised his eyebrow, looking concerned. “What is going on with you? Did you drink too much alcohol today, too?”

  “Maybe.” I sighed, silently counting the four glasses I’d just had with my dinner. “I just…I just thought you were here because….”

  “Because what?”

  “It’s nothing.” I took a deep breath. “I’m very sorry. I thought you were purposely showing up here to distract me.”

  “And why would I ever do something like that?” He looked completely confused.

  “You wouldn’t; hence the apology I just gave you.” I started to move around him, but he stepped in front of me, gently pushing me against the wall.

  “Are you sleeping with him tonight?” he asked. “Does he live up to everything on your spreadsheet?”

  “I don’t have a spreadsheet anymore,” I said. “I’ll have to find the time to start a new one because after the ‘Epic’ party, someone found a way to delete it from my phone.”

  “Hmmm. That’s such a shame….”

  “It is.” I laughed. “I also hope that whoever that person is, knows that I could possibly charge them with a crime because even though it was just a cell phone, logging into someone’s personal data cloud is—” I didn’t get a chance to finish my sentence. My intended last word ended on his lips once his mouth covered mine and he kissed me again—taking complete control, making me feel everything I felt at that party all over again.

  “Carter…” I panted, slowly pulling away. “What are you…What are you doing?”

  “Now I’m purposely distracting you.” He looked into my eyes. “I’m also trying to determine whether or not I’d feel the same thing if I kissed you while I was completely sober.”

  “So, what’s the verdict on that?”

  “Jury’s still out.” He walked away from me without another word, and returned to his table—leaving me completely speechless.

  I leaned against the wall for several minutes, struggling to compose myself. I waited until the butterflies in my stomach stopped fluttering, until my heart stopped beating abnormally, and took a few deep breaths before returning to my table.

  “You okay?” Chris asked as I took my seat. “I was about to come looking for you.”

  “I’m more than fine.” I smiled. “You ordered us five different samples of wine?”

  “Yeah.” He moved to my side of the table and put his arm around my shoulder. “I want us to try them all together...You ready to focus?”

  “Absolutely…”

  I tried, but I honestly couldn’t focus for the rest of dinner. No matter how many times Chris gave me a compliment or told me a joke I’d normally find hilarious, my mind wandered back to Carter, back to both of us kissing each other senselessly at that party. To him kissing me again in that hallway.

  When the restaurant manager informed us that he’d be closing the place early tonight, we left the restaurant and headed to Sandy Park.

  Chris found a spot that was secluded by overgrown trees and turned off his car. He looked over at me, possibly gauging my reaction and I smiled.

  With that he climbed into the backseat and pulled me back there with him.

  We didn’t waste any time talking.

  His lips latched onto mine, and I desperately wanted to feel that reckless and uncontrollable passion—that raging desire that I’d felt for Carter just hours ago, but there was nothing. It felt like we were just going through the motions.

  Not noticing my lack of enthusiasm, he slowly pulled away from my mouth, and started to kiss his way down my stomach.

  Maybe this part will be good…This part will make me forget...

  I leaned back against the seat, and he hiked up my dress. He pushed my panties to the side and kissed the inner skin of my thigh. Caressing my legs, he whispered, “Nom, nom, nom…nom, nom nom…”

  What the hell did he just say?!

  “Nom, nom, nom…”

  Oh my god…

  “I love eating pussy…I’m going to eat yours all night.”

  I was pretty sure my vagina dried up like a desert and cried at that very moment, so I sat up before it could attempt to detach itself from my body and walk away for good. “Wait, Chris…I’m…”

  “Not ready yet?”

  NEVER… “Yeah…It’s still kind of soon…I’m just not ready.”

  “I figured,” he said, sitting up. “You’ve seemed a bit off since we left the restaurant.”

  “I’m not off…I just…” I figured I could still blame it on the alcohol. “I shouldn’t have had so much wine—especially coming off one of the worst hangovers I’ve ever had yesterday.”

  “Ah.” He nodded. “I’ve been there…” He helped me back into the front seat. “Well, I’ll take you back home so you can get some rest.”

  “Thank you very much…”

  Our drive home was slightly awkward. We didn’t say much to one another outside of commenting on how annoyed we were with the usual summer migration of tourists, and when we arrived at my house, he was still a perfect gentleman. He opened the car door for me and walked me to the door.

  “Try Sprite and fresh lemons,” he said.

  “For what?”

  “Your upcoming hangover tomorrow morning.” He kissed me and walked back to his car, motioning for me to go inside so he could pull off.

  As soon as he shut the door, I slipped out of my shoes and dropped my purse to the floor. I heard my roommate and her boyfriend laughing in the living room, so I dashed into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of wine and a mug. Then I went upstairs and shut myself inside my room.

  I poured the first cup, slowly sipping it as I thought about the past forty eight hours. I could see everything playing in my head like a movie, and I kept pressing pause on my favorite frames, wondering if after all this time I could possibly like Carter after all.

  He gave me wedgies on the playground in fourth grade…

  I poured another cup, drinking it faster than the first.

  He set my science project on fire after I told him he was ugly…

  Shaking my head, I got into bed—fresh cup of wine in hand and leaned back against my pil
lows, thinking about everything as thoroughly as possible.

  As I replayed our kiss from the party in my mind, I felt my phone vibrating. Him.

  How was your date?

  I hesitated before responding.

  AMAZING! I had the Best. Sex. Ever!

  I asked how your “date” was…not your daydream…

  How was YOUR date? (Why is it so hard to believe that Chris and I had sex?)

  It wasn’t a date. It was just a dinner. (Because I know you didn’t.) What are you up to right now?

  I’m drinking cheap wine out of a mug.

  Want some late-night Chinese to go with it?

  I looked at my clock and realized it was long past midnight. “Only if I get three eggrolls that I don’t have to share…”

  “Sure. Be there in twenty.”

  I got out of bed and straightened my room, something I never did when he was on his way over. I moved my food and beverage magazines to the window sill and cleared my desk of all my half written recipes, leaving only my notebook so it would look like I’d been writing.

  I made the bed—tucking the sheets in for the first time in months, and as I was vacuuming, I suddenly stopped.

  What the hell am I doing?!

  I returned the vacuum to the closet and finally changed out of my dress. I put on the most unflattering pair of sweats I owned—along with a large T-shirt, and pulled my hair into a low ponytail. To perfect my “look like a bum” effort, I found my makeup remover wipes and brushed them against my face until every bit of foundation and mascara was gone.

  When I finished, Carter walked into my bedroom—Chinese food in hand.

  “I lied about the eggrolls,” he said, setting a brown bag on my desk. “You’re going to have to share at least one of them.”

  “That wasn’t part of the deal.”

  “It also wasn’t part of the combo special.” He tossed me a fork and froze—looking around my room with his eyebrow raised. “Did you and Chris come back here after your date?”

  “No…What makes you think that?”

  “Because this is the cleanest I’ve ever seen your room.” He handed me a white box. “Is your mom coming to visit you tomorrow?”

  “No…I just…I just felt like cleaning up.”

  “Right…” He took a seat on the edge of my bed. He stuck his fork in my bed of rice and lifted a piece of chicken onto his plate. “What really happened on your date? There’s no way he brought you right home in that dress.”

  “We found a park and…” I paused. “Everything was going right for the most part but…”

  “Do I even want to know the rest of this story?”

  “No, but for future reference, if you ever start going down on a girl, please refrain from saying ‘Nom-nom-nom’. It kind of kills the mood.”

  A smile spread across his face, and he held his laughter back for all of five seconds.

  I rolled my eyes. “Feel free to stop any time now.”

  “I can’t.” He laughed harder. “That’s really sad. So much for your ‘pretty decent’ sex.”

  “No, what’s sad is a guy who claims he’s going to sleep around for the summer, but he’s not able to get it up for several days in a row.” I leaned back against my pillows, laughing.

  “Is it really that funny?”

  “You not being able to have your infamous “rough and dirty” sex? Yes, it definitely is…” I shut my eyes, still laughing, and the next thing I felt was his lips on mine. Threading his fingers through my hair, he kissed me harder, rougher—forcing me to open my eyes and look at him.

  There was no sudden break away, no “what the hell was that?” between us. There was only a shared look of understanding, a silent confirmation that I wanted him to take things further. A lot further.

  Pulling away from my mouth, he trailed his fingers against my lips. “Is there any reason why you decided to put on the worst clothes you own before I came over tonight?”

  “What makes you think I would do something like that?”

  He didn’t answer. He slowly slipped a finger into my mouth, and groaned when I flicked my tongue against it. Smiling, he slipped in another finger. “You can’t lie to me, Ari…” he said, pushing his fingers in and out. “I see right through you.”

  “These aren’t my worst clothes…”

  “They are.” He smirked, moving his fingers away. “But they’re not going to prevent me from fucking you tonight…” He pulled me out of the bed and made me stand in front of him.

  He ran his hands across my breasts—palming them through the fabric of my shirt, making me moan as he gently twisted my nipples. “Take off your clothes…”

  I stood still, entranced by the feel of his hands on me.

  “Ari…” He squeezed my breasts.

  “Yes?”

  “Take off your clothes.”

  I hesitated for a few seconds, and he leaned forward and gently bit my bottom lip.

  “Right now,” he said.

  I grabbed the hem of my shirt, but he placed his hands over mine and helped me pull it over my head. Without him saying anything else, he pulled the drawstring on my sweats, keeping his eyes on me as he stepped back and took off his shirt.

  My breathing slowed as he unbuckled his jeans, as he slowly stepped out of his briefs and exposed his cock.

  Oh my god…

  I could feel my jaw dropping, feel redness crossing my cheeks, but I somehow managed to get out of my panties without taking my eyes off of him.

  He grabbed my hand and placed it against his chest—trailing it across his abs, then lower and lower until I could hear his breathing slow with every touch.

  His mouth latched onto mine again and his hands went around my waist, gripping me so tightly I could feel his fingers digging into my skin. Sliding his hand down a little lower, he slapped my ass. Hard.

  “Ahhh…” I cried out as he did it again. And again…

  The sharp pain was a complete contrast to the softer way he was kissing me, and I couldn’t explain why, but I loved the way he was making me feel.

  I moaned as he began to slow our kiss, as he suddenly pulled away from my mouth and spun me around. His cock was against my ass, and his mouth was on my neck—softly biting my skin.

  Shutting my eyes, I felt him running his hands up and down my sides, heard him whispering, “Am I allowed to fuck you the way I want to?” He bit me a little harder. “Or do you have a spreadsheet for that, too?”

  I shook my head.

  “Yes to fucking you the way I want to…” He slid a hand between my thighs. “Or yes to the spreadsheet?”

  “The…” I stuttered as he pressed his thumb against my swollen clit and rubbed it. “The first one.”

  “Good.” He suddenly bent me over my desk—pressing my chest against cold metal, and spread my legs.

  I heard him unwrapping a condom behind me, heard him saying, “You’re so wet...” as he trailed a finger against my slit.

  Gripping my hips, he leaned against me and pressed kisses against my spine.

  One kiss. Two. Three…

  I tried to focus on the warmth of his mouth, the strength of his hands, and when I was finally picking up on the pattern of his kisses, he started to slide inside of me.

  Slow at first, very slow…

  He forced himself deeper and finally filled me, and then he placed one last kiss on my back before pulling back and pounding into me so fast and hard I nearly lost my balance.

  “Fuck, Ari…” He rasped. “You feel so good…”

  “Ahhh…Ahhh…” I murmured as he reached between my legs and strummed my clit, never stopping his reckless rhythm—thrusting in and out of me again and again.

  “Carter, I….” I could feel my legs trembling, feel my pussy throbbing. “Carter, I…”

  “Shhh…” He pulled out of me and flipped me over, grabbing my legs and wrapping them around his waist before sliding into me again. He looked into my eyes, pressing his fingers against my mouth a
s I moaned.

  Unable to hold on for too much longer, I tightened my legs around his waist, and when he thrust into me again I lost all control. I started to cry out his name as I reached my climax, but he covered his mouth with mine—muffling me as he reached his own release.

  Panting and trembling, I shut my eyes—not answering any of his questions that he peppered with forehead kisses.

  The next thing I felt was him pulling out of me and lifting me up, placing me into my bed. I heard him step out into the hallway bathroom and run water, and then I felt him wiping a warm cloth between my legs.

  He placed another kiss against my forehead, whispering, “I love the way you say my name when you come…”

  With my heart still racing a mile a minute, I had no idea what the hell I should say to that. No idea how the hell Chinese food had turned to fucking…

  I just continued to lay in bed with him beside me, with him running his fingers through my hair and softly caressing my neck.

  I was certain he had nothing else to say either, because hours later, he fell asleep and I was still staring at my pale white ceiling. I tried shutting my eyes and forcing sleep, but my body wouldn’t allow it.

  My lips wanted to be kissed again, my thighs wanted to be caressed, and there was a yearning ache between my thighs that I’d never felt before.

  To make sure I wasn’t dreaming, or stuck in the middle of one of my recent fantasies, I looked over at Carter and made sure he was asleep. Then I trailed my hand down between my thighs—touching to see if my clit was in fact really swollen or if I really was—

  “You’re still horny?” Carter whispered, a smile in his voice.

  I ignored him and immediately moved my hand away, keeping my eyes glued to the ceiling.

  “Ari?” he asked again.

  I didn’t answer.

  He let out a low laugh and moved on top of me, looking into my eyes. “Ari…”

  “Yes?”

  “Are you still wet?”

  “No.”

  Smirking, he slid a hand between my thighs, getting the true answer to his question. “Would you like me to help you with this?”

  I shook my head and he leaned down, sucking one of my nipples into his mouth. “Why not?”