by Loren, Celia
"No, definitely not!" I reply. "Definitely, definitely not."
"Got it!" Nikki says with a laugh. "You have to come shopping with me tomorrow."
"I don't know if I can..."
"Please! I have nothing to wear!"
"You have more clothes than anyone I know! And this is from the Gucci fall collection if I'm not mistaken," I say, fingering the hem of her beaded silk mini-dress.
"Yeah, and now everyone's seen me in it! So, shopping tomorrow?"
"It's just, I'm trying to save up some money," I explain.
Nikki laughs so suddenly that she spits Cosmo across the table. "For god's sake, why? You're, like, one of the richest people I know, and I know actual royalty!"
"No, my father is rich, I'm not! And I don't want him to bankroll everything. I'll just wind up having to ask him for permission for every little thing. I need to save money if I want to go back to school on my own terms."
"Go back to school? You don't need to do that! You want me to introduce you to one of Jonathan's friends?"
"No, no, forget it," I sigh, downing the rest of my drink. "I get too stressed out thinking about it all," I say as I pour myself another. My calm has been broken, and one more drink will settle me down again. "You know this DJ?" I ask her, nodding to the guy on the raised platform.
Nikki always has her finger on the pulse of the music scene, so I can sit back as she launches into an explanation of this DJ's influences, and the better ones she's seen in the big clubs in Europe. Her older husband, Jonathan, is the heir to a pharmaceuticals fortune that's based out of Tampa, but she escapes to more exotic locales whenever she can, with or without him. Though I think she prefers to go without.
Before I know it, I've finished my second drink and Nikki is pressing another one into my hands as she begins telling me about Jonathan's eligible friends. I giggle as she lists their best attributes, one being that his divorce has now completely gone through. She grabs my hand and drapes it across her shoulder. At her insistence, I chug whatever rum-based concoction she just made me so that I don't bring it onto the dance floor and spill it everywhere.
She guides me out of the VIP area and through the crowd. I marvel at the multi-colored lights that swing every now and then across the otherwise dark space. Moist, glistening bodies press in around me and I throw my head back and laugh with Nikki. Our limbs move with the music and I have no worries in the world. The lights above me change and look almost like they're spinning, or maybe it's all in my head.
A handsome man with a dark beard sidles up to me and takes my hand. His hips press against mine and his arms wrap around the small of my back. He's a good dancer, and quickly takes the lead. My body follows his as he swirls me around and then dips me back. Nikki joins in, pressing against his back as I turn around and spin with the music. I giggle as a short, balding man makes eye contact with me and wiggles his eyebrows. He looks almost absurdly out of place, and I look around for an escape route as he begins to dance toward me.
Suddenly, Carter steps around a woman in front of me and grabs my arm. "We need to go. There are too many people here. It's not safe."
"Carter, stop being such a killjoy!" I reply, and wrap my arms around his neck. "Just have some fun!" I press my hips against his and try to get him to move them back and forth. "Consider it physical therapy!"
"Thought you were pissed at me," he growls.
"You caught me in a good mood," I sigh, tilting my head back and letting my hair swing from side to side.
"You mean a drunk mood. You said you weren't going to drink anymore."
"I just wanted to relax a little!" I yank my hands away from him. "Just let it go OK? I feel like I have to walk on eggshells in that house and I just want to forget it for a while!" I throw my hands up in the air and move away from him, swaying with the music.
"Alexa!"
I look back at him. Shit, he looks stressed. His jaw is clenching and his neck muscles are bunching out. He needs to learn to take things less seriously. The cute guy with the beard grabs me around the waist and pulls me toward him and Nikki. She's so fun and pretty. We need to hang out more.
"You're the best!" I yell at her.
"No, you're the best!" she yells back.
"We're leaving," Carter says, taking my arm and pulling me away.
"I don't want to!" I retort, planting my feet.
"Hey, chill out," the bearded man says, placing a calming hand on Carter's shoulder. "We were just dancing. I didn't know she was here with—"
"Get the fuck off me!" Carter spits back, his eyes flaring. The music changes to a faster song and the crowd surges behind him, sending a couple dancers stumbling against him. His head flies wildly around and his knees bend into a slight crouch. "Alexa, we have to go now!" he yells, his eyes darting around as though we're under attack.
"Carter..." I say, stepping toward him, hands outstretched. Around the edge of the dance floor, a cocktail waitress trips and sends glass flying and a stool toppling over.
Carter drops to the floor, his hands over his ears and his head bowed. I rush over to him, my concern cutting through my drunken state.
"I'm here. Hey, I'm here," I murmur, spreading my fingers over his hands and ducking my head beneath his so that he'll see me. "Everything's OK."
"Can't breathe," he gasps.
"I think it's a panic attack," I tell him. "You're hyperventilating. There's nothing actually bad happening, alright? You have to try to understand that." A couple dancing next to us jostles against us and I'm worried we're going to get stepped on. "Let's get out of here. We're going to stand up, and you just keep your arms around me and just look at the back of my head, alright? Just focus on me."
He nods, and we stand up together. I turn around and wrap his arms around my waist. I step forward with my right foot and he follows me, syncing up our walking motions as I make my way through the crowd with him behind me. I push the front door open and thankfully there are a couple taxis sitting at the curb, waiting for club-goers to come out.
I open the back door and tap on Carter's hand, signaling for him to come around me. I shuttle him into the back seat and then shut the door behind us and give the cabbie directions back to the house.
"Your car..." Carter groans, his head in his hands as he rests his elbows on his legs.
"Fuck my car," I tell him, rubbing his back. "I'll get it tomorrow."
Chapter Sixteen
We don't talk on the way back to the house. I just curl my body up to his and wrap my arm around his shoulders. The cab drops us off in front of the main house, but I guide Carter around the side to the boat house. We silently walk up the stairs and I lead him to the sliding doors to the right of my bed.
"This is where I go when I need to relax," I tell him, sitting him down on the couch on the back balcony. I cover his legs with the throw blanket I left draped over the back.
"Yeah? What else do you do?" he asks, rubbing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.
"Well, I—" I begin with a smile. "Actually, wait a second..." I open my clutch root around in the bottom of it. "Oh my god," I say as my fingers close around an old joint. "Do you know what this means?"
"You have more than one vice?"
"No, it means I'm a felon. I forgot this was in my purse and brought it back on the plane from France. Sorry, sorry, don't think about that." I dig around in my purse again and take out a lighter. "Here, just take a small hit."
"This will help?"
"It's very soothing, trust me." I light it up pass it to him. He takes a short drag and breathes the smoke in before releasing it and passing the joint back to me.
"My hands feel funny," he says, flexing them.
"That's from the panic attack, not the pot. Weed doesn't work that fast."
"You know a lot about panic attacks?"
I nod. "Used to get them in eighth grade. Had to see a psychologist for like a year. When you hyperventilate, your extremities stop getting enough oxygen and
they start buzzing or going numb and stuff. Just keep breathing deeply and it will go away."
"I don't panic."
"OK," I reply, handing him the joint again. He takes another small hit.
"I'm trained not to."
"Great."
"Stop doing that."
"What do you want me to say? I know what I saw."
"You going to tell your dad?"
"Why would I do that?"
"I don't think he's going to want to employ someone who can't handle being in a fucking club," he says.
"You kidding? I love keeping secrets from my father, or trying to, anyway." I pause. "I owe you an apology."
He frowns. "What for?"
"Insisting on going there, and then insisting on staying. I thought you were just trying to control me...I didn't realize you wanted to leave for you."
"Well, I didn't realize that either, so it's fine." There's a long silence, and I stare at him. "What?"
"You don't have anything to say to me?" I ask, stubbing out the end of the joint. "Why'd you accept this stupid job?"
"You don't think it's weird? The new security center? The license scanner at the front gate? I mean, this place is locked down."
"My dad's nuts. I thought you knew."
"Maybe...or maybe there's something he knows that he's not sharing."
"That does sound like him. He loves knowing things that other people don't know. And using it against them. So you're saying you took the job because you think I might actually be in danger?"
"Maybe."
"But..." I trail off and clear my throat, wondering how to put this delicately. "You were also convinced I was in danger tonight."
He flinches, and runs his hands through his hair. "So you don't trust my instincts," he says quietly.
"Carter...it's just, whatever you've been through, it's got your mind playing tricks on you. I'm just saying, maybe you're seeing danger where there isn't any."
"I used to be one of the best..." he murmurs, staring out at the water.
"I am touched, though. That you'd care if I were in danger," I say, nudging him with my foot.
His head snaps in my direction and he frowns. "Of course I would. Why would you say that?"
"Seriously?" I roll my eyes. "Just forget it."
He frowns, but lets it go. "How old is Nikki's husband, anyway?"
"Like, forty-five, I think." He laughs and leans back, spreading his arms across the back of the couch. One of his fingertips gently rests on my bare shoulder, and he begins to mindlessly flick it back and forth. "Feeling better?"
"Mm," he murmurs, and takes a deep breath. I watch his chest expand and admire his profile in the gray light reflecting off the water. "You're a felon," he says, looking at me, and begins to laugh. It's catching, and I begin to giggle. "Your skin is so soft," he says suddenly, leaning forward to examine my shoulder. "Do you rub something on it?"
"Like lotion? Not really. I guess I should," I reply, staring at him in amusement.
"No, it's good the way it is. Feel my palm," he says, extending an open hand to me.
"Rough," I observe, trailing my fingers across the huge callouses.
"I was so excited when I first saw them, when I first started working out."
"How old were you?"
"Sixteen, maybe fifteen. I was tall, but bony, and everyone was teasing me about not inheriting my father's muscles."
"He's strong?"
"Well, he was a professional football player."
"Shit, really? Does Jack know him?"
"No one does, anymore. I think you should go back to school," he says. I'm not sure if he's changing the subject or if he's just speaking in a stream of consciousness.
"So you were listening in on my phone call," I say, pulling my hand back, but he latches onto it with his.
"I have excellent hearing. I can hear your heartbeat right now."
"You cannot."
"Yes," he replies, pulling me closer and wrapping his hand around my wrist. I feel his thumb move over the artery on the underside of my wrist.
"You are impossible," I sigh in frustration as his scent overwhelms me. "You said very specifically that we were never doing this again."
"So did you. On the plane."
"Yeah, well, you said it more recently."
"I felt jealous tonight. Of the man touching you. I want to be the only one who's allowed to touch you."
"Carter, you can't say things like—" Abruptly, he leans forward and kisses me. I gasp and pull back, fighting the desire that's coursing through my veins. "You're just—"
But he pulls me in again, now wrapping his arms around my waist and pressing himself down on top of me. Oh, fuck. My willpower dissolves as his tongue slips into my mouth. Any thought of turning back is wiped from my mind as I wrap my arms around his neck.
I moan as he pulls my strapless dress down and takes my breast in his calloused palm. His mouth leaves mine and I arch my back as he sucks my nipple into his mouth. He flicks it back and forth with his tongue and grazes it gently with his teeth. His hands push up my dress as his mouth moves to my left nipple, whirling it around inside his warm mouth.
He takes my waist and turns me so that my back is leaning up against the armrest of the couch, then brings both of my feet onto the couch and pulls my legs apart, kneeling between them. I hear fabric tear and the cool breeze against me and look down to see him dropping my cotton thong on the ground in tatters. I shake my head at him and he gives me a wolfish grin before bending his head forward and taking a long lick of my clit.
"Oh, Carter," I groan, as my eyes roll back in my head. I didn't think sex with this man could get any better, but I had no idea what he could do with his tongue. As he works my clit over, I feel him slip one long finger inside me and circle it around, coming back over and over again across my g-spot. My fingers search the rattan side of the couch for a grip as I feel an orgasm begin to build inside me. My legs shake and my breathing is ragged, but he keeps going. His tongue circles faster and faster and my back arches and I come with a barely muffled cry.
I hear him stand up and open my eyes in confusion as I feel him lifting me. "Where are you taking me?" I ask, trying to get my bearings.
"To bed, of course."
Chapter Seventeen
He stands me up next to the bed, then reaches forward and takes my dress in his hands. It's bunched around my waist, and he carefully works it down over my hips until it falls to the floor. I watch as he takes his own clothes off, the effect of my high now really hitting me since I'm not so worried about him.
Naked, he walks to my nightstand and takes out a condom. When he returns to stand in front of me, I bring my hands up to his chest and then up to his clavicle, then across his shoulders and down his arms. His body feels like strength itself to me.
"Lie down," he tells me quietly. I let myself fall backward onto the bed, and then scooch back until my feet aren't hanging off the end. He brings the condom to his mouth and rips it open, then unrolls it on his long, thick cock. I'm not sure how long it takes him...time seems funny and it could be ten seconds or an hour.
He leans forward, and with his weight on his elbows on either side of me, he crawls up the bed, then gently lowers himself on top of me. I wrap my legs around the back of his thighs as he softly kisses me. I can taste myself on my lips and open my mouth wider, curious about my own taste on his tongue. His cock presses against me and I adjust the angle of my hips slightly to accommodate him.
He thrusts slowly inside me, his tip spreading me open until he is fully sheathed inside me. He rocks his hips slightly back and forth, and then pulls out again. I close my eyes, losing myself to the sensation, but I feel his hand on my chin. When I open my eyes, I see him staring down at me with his hand gently holding my face in place. I can feel his cock sliding back inside me as his eyes lock with mine. He's studying me, absorbing my every micro-expression as I take him in. He lowers his head an inch, brushing my lips with a kiss, and the
n pulls back out again.
He moves painstakingly slowly, never allowing me to look away, until a throbbing ache of desire has built up in my groin. I need him to move faster so that I can find release.
"Please," I gasp, pressing my hips up against him so that he gets the idea. He nods, and with another soft kiss, he begins to thrust forward faster. The sudden movement almost pushes me over the edge, but I hold back. I arch my back and dig my hands into his ass. I want to feel him deep, deep inside me. One more thrust, and my pleasure crests. My body shakes with spasms until I have nothing left.
He collapses on top of me and I feel his breath against my neck. He raises himself on his elbows again, and with one finger, pushes a sweaty strand of hair off of my forehead. Slowly, he pulls out and stands back up. I watch him walk to the bathroom, admiring the high curve of his ass. I move up to my pillow, and pull the sheets over myself. He reemerges from the bathroom and I wonder for a second if he's going to leave, but he walks back over to my bed and slips under the sheets from the other side.
He lays back on the pillow and reaches one arm out, pulling me against his shoulder. I tense for a moment, and then relax against him, letting my hand fall against his chest. His breathing slows down, and I trace the tattoo on his chest with my finger.
"Carter?" I whisper.
"Mm?"
"What did you mean on the plane when you said that it had been a while since you met someone like me? What is someone like me?"
"Someone so full of life," he explains without pause.
"Oh." I lapse into silence, mulling over this explanation. "Carter?"
But he's already asleep.
* * *
I wake up in the morning with a smile on my face. I'm not even sure why...ah yes, Carter. The night started out shaky, but boy did it end well. I turn onto my side and reach out my arm for him. He's gone.
I sit straight up in bed, listening. Is it possible that he's just in the bathroom? Nope. All silent in here. I spot a little slip of paper on his pillow.
Sorry, he scrawled on it.
That fucker.
A deep rage begins to surface inside me, but just as quickly as it appeared, it's gone. My mind feels clear for a moment.