by Aneta Quinn
I wave to Jimmy, as I watch Carter walk him to the door, and they step out of the apartment for a moment to talk. I take this opportunity to freshen up in the bathroom, and find myself leaning against the bathroom sink staring at my reflection while the water runs. I scoop some water in my hands and let it trickle off my fingers against my burning neck, the droplets of cold water running down my spine.
I watch my reflection and see the bright eyed, rosy cheeked, girl in the mirror. I can’t even begin to describe the whirlwind of feelings running through me – the hate that’s been brought up to the surface after telling Carter what happened, doused by feelings of sadness for the loss of my parents, and then finally a feeling of need and love, which Carter seems to be bringing out of me from the deepest most lost parts of me.
I wet my hands again and run them up and down my arms, just as Carter knocks on the partially open door and steps in. He leans against the doorframe for a moment, and watches me watching him in the mirror. His arms are crossed against his chest, and there’s a small smile playing against the corner of his lips in that little crooked grin.
He takes a few steps further into the bathroom and closes the door behind him, then turns towards the shower and turns it on. The bathroom gradually fills with the soft steam from the shower water.
He takes hold of his shirt and pulls it off with ease, arms flexing with the movement, and he smirks when he sees me almost drooling in the reflection of the mirror. He steps up behind me and slips his fingers under my tank top, then lifts it gently. My arms automatically lift to let him take it off. Does that make me seem too eager?
I don’t argue, I don’t fight off whatever it is that’s he’s doing, because I want it just as badly as he does. The look in his eyes is something I haven’t seen, and I would seriously be lying if I said I didn’t love it.
I watch as he drops the tank top to the ground with his shirt, and looks at my reflection momentarily, before gliding his fingers up my back and unclipping my bra with ease. I lower my hands, letting it slip down my arms and drop to the floor with the rest of the discarded clothes. He steps even closer, his warm body pressing right up against my back as he looks at me in the mirror, then slowly starts kissing my neck and down my bare shoulder. His eyes close briefly, but then return to looking at me in the mirror. His eyes burning with desire make me close my own and tilt my head back against him.
This feeling right here, this pure need for someone, is indescribable. There’s something a little more primal in his touch tonight, some feeling beneath the surface that’s dying to break free. Every sweep of his lips against my skin, every touch of his fingers has me losing all sense of preservation.
His hands glide up against my body, one wrapping across my chest and holding my neck softly, while the other runs up my side and takes hold of one of my breasts. He tweaks my nipple softly and starts to kiss my naked shoulder again, every so often looking back to our reflection in the mirror. He’s enjoying watching us like this, our bodies pressed together, just as much as I am. He wants this just as much as I do.
A moan escapes my lips when he kisses a sensitive spot on my neck, like he knows all my weak spots, knows all the right places to touch me. His hands drop their hold on me as he turns me around to face him, his lips crashing down on mine. I groan hungrily against his mouth as he picks me up and puts me on the bathroom counter, not gently either.
He keeps kissing down my neck, my collarbone, across my breast and takes a nipple between his lips. He bites gently – just the way I like it, and flicks his tongue across it making me moan again. This is just getting embarrassing, but I couldn't even give two shits right now how much I moan or how loud I get, because his lips on me feel amazing.
I lean my hands back and accidentally knock some stuff off his counter, both of us pausing briefly to watch his deodorant and toothbrush clatter loudly onto his tiled floor.
He shrugs and returns his lips back to my chest, making his way lower down my stomach. He unbuttons my jeans and lifts one of my legs as he pulls back, trying to tug my boot off my foot.
He lets out a quiet sound of frustration, like he can’t get me naked fast enough. He starts trying to unlace them, but I shake my head, “I’ll get them off faster” I say just as impatiently.
I lean forward and tug it off, then drop my leg. He picks up the other one, runs his hand up my thigh and pulls the laces undone, allowing me to tug that shoe off too. I look around the bathroom floor, taking in the clothes, the counter items, and now my shoes lying haphazardly on the ground. I lazily reach out and tug the waistband of his jeans, pulling him back against me and look up into his eyes, hopefully depicting what I hope to be a sexy face. Oh god these eyes of his are seriously destroying me.
"You drive me fucking nuts, you know that?" he says, and I’m hoping he means in a good way.
He starts to tug my jeans down, so I lift my hips allowing him to slide them over and down my legs, before he pulls them off completely. He tugs my socks off as well when he reaches my ankles, leaving me sitting on his counter in nothing but my undies.
The hunger in his eyes for me is what’s making my heart rate pick up, my lips to go dry, and my core to clench in anticipation of what’s to come.
He grins at the fact that yet again I’m wearing lace, and runs his fingers against my thighs and up my sides, allowing my hands to work his pants undone and slide them down. They drop to the ground and he steps out of them. He kicks them off to the side, as he uses his foot to take off his sock and then the other.
"You're wasting the hot water" I say, and motion towards the running shower. He slips his fingers into his briefs, and tugs them down his hips letting them drop. I stare, because I can't help it. His hard on is very firm against the inside of my thigh, as he steps closer and picks me up. I automatically wrap my legs around his waist as he kisses me so hard, and takes the remaining steps towards the shower. In fact, he kisses me so hard my toes curl and I momentarily forget I’ve still got panties on.
I start to squirm just as he steps under the spray of hot water, going unnoticed.
"You're insane" I laugh, but then shut right up when he practically shoves me against the cold tiles of the shower.
"I get why you prefer showers, this would be a tad hard to do in a bathtub" he chuckles as he presses his lips to my collarbone, licking, kissing, making my insides do crazy things.
I watch him as the water cascades down across his side, wetting his hair, wetting his body. He shakes his head a little to get his hair out of his eyes, and the water flicks in all directions making me laugh. He puts my feet down on the ground, letting my body slide down his very wet and very naked body slowly. He slides his fingers under my panties and glides them down my legs smoothly.
I love how attentive he is, and seems to already know which parts of my body are the most sensitive. He kisses down my neck, and runs his hands down my sides, resting them on my hips. I feel his smirk against my collarbone as one of his hands slides around and starts to run his fingers through my wetness. He grins at how wet I already am for him, as he slips his finger inside, moving slowly at first, until he slides another finger in.
I let him move his hand against me, let him work his fingers inside me, as I scrape my hands down his firm chest and take a firm grip of his cock. He instantly groans hungrily and I see his jaw tense tightly.
I reach out with my free hand and grab hold of his body wash, squirting a little onto his chest. The drop of soap slowly starts to descend down his chest and onto his stomach, so I use one hand to start rubbing the body wash against him, and the other hand slowly moving up and down his cock.
It smells amazing, that delicious manly woodsy aroma with a hint of something citrusy. He ends up doing the same, removing his hands from me momentarily to get the body wash onto his hands, and then slowly starts working the lather against my body. Around my breasts, on my shoulders, down my stomach, until finally his hand resumes his delicious touch where I need him most.
My pleasure builds with his gentleness, because I'm not really used to being looked after like this. It's tender and sweet, yet incredibly sexy since his hands are still touching all the right parts of my body. Oh god I'm about to come.
He picks up his pace a little sensing how close I am, so I try to get a firmer grip on him, trying to get him there with me. He rests his head against mine gently and a moan slips from my lips, followed by curse words, because there are literally no other words to describe how amazing he makes me feel.
Every nerve ending in my body lights up with heat and my pulse quickens as I slip into a blissful and intense orgasm. I moan loudly as I let the sensation take over me but never take my hands off him. He groans and says my name softly, and I feel when he reaches his climax because his cock hardens further and pulses, the evidence of his pleasure now in the palm of my hand.
He chuckles a little, "sorry, didn't mean to get you" but all I can do is laugh softly with him. I'm too far gone to care. After he finishes washing my body, and washes off the lather of soap, I do the same for him.
"You want me to wash your hair?" he asks surprisingly, and I stand there slightly shocked. No one has ever looked after me like this - it's ridiculously sweet so all I do is nod gently. Considering how much I was against a hearts and flowers kind of guy and how he said he wasn't going to be like that with me, he's being the sweetest guy I've ever met and I'm loving every minute of it. Who would have thought?
"Hey, what's wrong?" he asks, tapping under my chin lightly so I lift my gaze to his.
"Nothing, I just...No-one’s ever taken care of me like this" I admit.
"That's because you probably told every guy you've been with you hate being looked after, and they listened" he smirks.
"Why didn't you listen then?" I tease, as he grabs the shampoo bottle off the little shelf and squirts some onto his palm. He rubs them together and taps my hip with his finger. I turn slowly, and allow myself to enjoy being looked after as he washes my hair. There’s a first for everything I guess.
"I listened at first" he admits, "but there's just something about you. You come off as this tough take-no-shit type person, but it kind of feels to me like you want to be taken care of for once. After you told me what happened to your parents I wanted to make you feel better."
"I don't want your sympathy" I say quietly, but it's almost as if he knew I was going to say that, because he's already shaking his head at me when I look over my shoulder.
"It's not sympathy, Kayla. I just think you deserve to be loved, everyone does" he says as he does that little half smile, dimple slightly popping out in his cheek.
"Loved?" I ask curiously. Oh god I hope he's not saying that already. He sees the slight panic in my face, and shakes his head again with a chuckle.
"I'm not saying I love you, Kayla" he says, and I find myself frowning a tiny bit, "But I'm not saying I won't either. You don't see how amazing you are. You think all these things you do or did in the past are going to chase me away, but it's half of those things that make us similar in more ways than one, it’s half of those things that pull me towards you, darlin."
I blink up at him, the water still showering down on us. We're standing under the spray of hot water just looking at each other, and all I can think of doing is kissing him for all that he's done for me tonight. The date, getting to know Jimmy, taking care of me even though I still think I don't need it, and all the sweet things he's said. I wrap my arms around his neck and lean in close to his lips, but kiss his cheek softly instead. He grins and turns his head so our lips meet, and he gives me a soft, sweet kiss.
Before he pulls away though I pull him closer against me and kiss him harder, and his tongue slips into my mouth and moves against my own. He groans and fumbles with the shower turning it off, never letting his lips leave mine, then picks me up and starts carrying me out of his bathroom and into his room, naked, wet, and ridiculously turned on.
Chapter 15
Carter
I carry her slick, wet body towards the bedroom, my dick hard as a rock between her legs as I kiss along her soft warm skin. She’s driving me nuts, literally fucking nuts, and I can’t decide whether I love it, or want to drive her equally insane.
I decide both are great options, for starters, I can't get enough of her. I lay her down on the bed, her hair spread out around her in a sexy, wet mess, and she doesn't bother covering up when my eyes do a slow perusal of her laying naked and wanting on my bed.
In fact, she quirks her finger for me to come closer with the sexiest fucking look on her face, and who am I to deny this gorgeous woman something she wants.
I press my knee down onto the mattress, but instead of climbing on top of her I wrap my hand around her ankle and slide her closer towards me. She laughs, which makes me grin like an idiot as I kiss my way down her leg.
"Carter..." she says in a breathy tone that makes me swell with pride knowing I'm making her feel like this. I look up at her from my position between her legs, my stubble no doubt rubbing against her thighs, "Yeah babe?"
"Come here" she practically whispers, so I do as I'm told and slide up against her, her perfect tits slick against my bare chest.
"What do you want, Kay?" I ask, because some twisted part of my brain, that I doubt has ever been used, is begging for her to say she wants me. That she wants more of me.
I keep my eyes on her as she slides her hand down my side and reaches for my cock, then takes it in her small hand. She rubs the tip against her opening, and I swear I almost go cross eyed just from that movement itself.
"You Carter, I want you" she says.
I can't help but grin no matter what way she means it, because those words coming out of her mouth make me feel like a king. She still has a firm grip on me as I start to slide in further, as far as I can go, until I'm in completely. It feels amazing, until I realise why it feels so amazing - I'm not wearing a fucking condom.
"Kay, I need to stop, I'm not wearing anything" I say, jaw tense as my hips move out of their own accord in a slow, leisurely roll. She shakes her head from side to side, as her eyes squeeze shut tight before she whispers "Don't stop, Carter, it’s okay."
I don't stop. Somewhere in my mind there's a little voice telling me I should stop, because we haven't had the ex's talk, or the how many people have you slept with before talk, or even the can you get pregnant talk, because in no fucking way do I want kids at any point in the near future. Can you picture me as a dad? What a fucking joke.
Her hands make their way down across my back, and she does some little swivel of her hips that has me seeing stars, literally shutting up that voice inside my head. Stop now - are you insane?
My lips move down to hers and I find myself kissing them in soft, sweet little kisses, until I realise that we're not fucking. No. In fact, what I've never done but find I'm going crazy over is us…now…making love instead of fucking. I used to think people were insane to think there was a difference, but shit, I sure know the difference now.
Then I realise even more how much I love the little sounds that are escaping her lips every time I move against her. The only way I can describe it is like little moans of delight when you're eating your favourite dessert, or the blissful feeling type moment when you first lick the delicious flavoured ice cream. When you close your eyes to savour the taste and that soft little 'mmm' comes out of your mouth.
I lean down on my elbows and my hand automatically goes up to press my palm against her face. A soft, gentle stroke of my finger against her cheek that has her opening her eyes and looking directly into mine.
She's feeling something other than this hatred or sorrow, and it's because of me. It's because of me that there's a smile on her face that could light up a fucking room. It's because of me that she's moaning in pleasure and begging for more, but it's because of us together that has her breathing my name when she comes and me coming right along with her.
I don't want to move a muscle as I lay on top of her, her tits squi
shed just nicely against my chest. Even though I've asked to make sure, apparently I'm not crushing her and making it hard to breathe - thank fuck because I wouldn't have moved either way.
Her fingers move softly against the muscles on my back - up and down, up and down in soft, leisurely strokes. My face is pressed against her neck, and even though I washed her in my own body wash, or used my shampoo, there’s still a trace of whatever makes her smell like her.
I'm getting kind of sappy, and surprisingly she hasn't wanted to run out of my apartment after that, because we both know the difference between fucking and that, whatever that was.
I decide to break the silence, "What’s your favourite colour?” I ask stupidly.