Cards Of Love: The World (Swift Series Book 2)

by Leslie Pike

  “Oh yeah? What about this?”

  My arms raise so she can see the flaw in our plan. She starts laughing.

  “That’s not the reaction I was going for.”

  “I don’t mean to insult your obviously impressive jewels, Friar Fuck. It’s just comically obscene.” Her eyebrow lifts with the statement.

  “What’re we gonna do about it?”

  She presses her lips together for a few beats before the words come tumbling out.

  “You do realize you’re always showing me your manhood, right?”

  “I am not. Quit exaggerating.”

  “Am I? The pond, then here tonight. I think you want me to look. You’re proud of it. Like a monkey,” she giggles.

  I just shake my head and control my smile. She may be right.

  “Come on. Help me figure out how to hide it. I can’t go like this.”

  “Can’t you tuck it somewhere?”

  She’s serious.

  “It’s not that pliable you know.”

  “This is the strangest conversation I’ve ever had.” She grins, but we’re both holding back a laugh.

  “Come on. We’ll find something in the house.”

  I look down at the green-print apron tied under the tunic, “Does this look right?”

  She rings the doorbell. “Just pretend Robin’s making dinner.”

  Shit.

  The door swings open and an eighty-five-year-old flapper greets us. Grandma Birdie is all fringe and feathers. There’s a long cigarette holder in her mouth. Around her neck, pearls.

  “Twenty-three skiddo!”

  “What does that mean, anyway?” I say.

  “I have no idea, darlin’. Grandma isn’t that old, you know.”

  She takes January’s hands and they scope out each other’s costume.

  “Birdie! Love the dancing fringe.”

  “Ohh, let me look at you! Absolutely stunning, my dear.”

  As a song begins to play from inside the party, Grandma responds in her usual way. She shakes her hips to the rhythm.

  “What about me? Am I stunning too?” I ask, pretending to be hurt.

  Grandma Birdie wraps her arms around me, as I knew she would.

  “Well honey, you’re the most stunning of all. Now come in and show everyone how good you look in tights.” She looks at January. “Don’t you think?”

  “I do.”

  “Why the apron, Brick?”

  “It’s a long story,” I say.

  “Really long,” January says naughtily and under her breath.

  I shoot her a look and she shrugs her shoulders and chuckles as we walk inside. Grandma pretends she didn’t hear. But I can see her holding back a smile.

  The house has been transformed into a haunted mansion. Seating is pushed against the walls making each room a dancehall, and they’re filled. It’s always this party everyone wants to attend. This and the Firefly Ball. It grows bigger by the year.

  January’s taking in the decorations and crowded dance floor.

  “Is that you?” She points to the large oil painting hanging on the wall to the right.

  “My alter ego.”

  Replacing the watercolors usually hung on the thirteen-foot walls are my mother’s oil portraits of the Swift Family Vampires. We’re a deadly pack of blood suckers who show our pale faces one day a year. All sharp fanged with menacing expressions. We wear black high-necked capes and white dress shirts, and each painting includes something portraying our individual personalities.

  Grandma Birdie’s wearing her pearls. Grandpa Davis a red bowtie to match the blood on his fangs. Bristol wears a stethoscope and Atticus palms a baseball. Mother’s self-portrait has her holding an artist’s brush dipped in blood, and Dad’s shows him about to sip a Jack Daniels that’s suspiciously red. Mine has me dripping blood out of the corner my mouth while reading a contract. The newest painting making its debut tonight shows Charlotte and Mallory as mother-daughter immortals.

  And even the animals are represented. Right in the center of the wall is The Colonel and Scarlett’s portrait. This is the one to get the most laughs. The menacing vampire dachshund, lip curled up just as it is when he senses an intruder. But bright red blood drips from his canine fangs. Next to him is my father’s cat, Scarlett. Evil kitty fat and lazy, with bloodied claws, a dead pale mouse and a bored stare.

  “This is the cleverest thing I’ve ever seen!” January says as she inspects each portrait.

  The room is crowded with dancing, drinking revelers. We weave through. I’ve taken her hand so we don’t get separated. That’s the excuse anyway. In reality I like the sensation of our fingers entwined.

  At the opposite end of the room I spot my parents dancing to “Spooky”. We’ll say hello when the music stops. I don’t want to wait any longer to hold her.

  “Let’s dance, Maid Marion.”

  Her eyes brighten. “Oh yes! I was afraid you weren’t a dancer.”

  “You don’t know everything about me,” I say taking her in my arms and bringing her close.

  We move smoothly within the space we have. My hand is on the small of her back, hers is around my neck. I smell the fresh flowers in her hair and feel the rise and fall of her breasts pressed against me. And I swear her heartbeat just quickened.

  All of a sudden these tights don’t seem so bad. There’s only a few thin layers of fabric between her body and my dick. I sold this costume short.

  “Tell me something about yourself I don’t know,” she says running her fingers across my neck.

  I take a few moments before answering. “Here’s one. I don’t make friends easily.”

  A sly grin lightens her face. “You made friends with me easily enough.”

  “Is that really all we are?” I say holding her stare.

  She chews her bottom lip. “I don’t know anymore.”

  “I do.”

  Our bodies sway to a stop. All around us people are dancing and talking. I’m hyper aware of what’s going on. A woman is laughing loudly. A man close by just stepped on his partner’s foot, and someone across the room is raising their glass in a toast. Then the noise quiets and the people recede to the background. It’s just January now.

  “I don’t want to be your friend,” I say quietly but surely.

  “What do you want?”

  “I want it all.”

  There’s a pause before she responds. “Our vow to not let sex ruin our friendship hasn’t lasted a month.”

  “Maybe our new vow should be not to let friendship ruin our sex.”

  I press my body against hers so she feels my intentions. Leaning in, I whisper in her ear.

  “Goddamnit, January. Don’t make me wait any longer. Come home with me.”

  “I have no intention of refusing your lovely invitation.”

  A sigh escapes from deep within her, as if she just exhaled for the first time since we met.

  Chapter 7

  January

  Anticipation of a first time is a powerful pulling son of a bitch. It’s making my panties wet. Once felt, you’re a goner. I want him like an addict wants their fix. And the closer we get to Brick’s house, the stronger the craving. It was inevitable we end up in bed. I see that now.

  I hear the familiar sound of a text. My sister’s pissing me off. She’s sent me five long texts tonight about that stupid Tarot card. Undoubtedly this is number six. Why did I ever show it to her? Before I turn off the notifications I peek at the screen.

  Major milestone! Fulfillment! BABY!! Harmony! The best card you can get in a Tarot reading!

  My sister must be on crack.

  “You’re in demand tonight,” Brick says.

  “It’s just Summer. She’s insane. I turned it off.”

  A smile’s all I need to confirm I did the right thing. Nothing’s going to interfere with the magic that’s happening.

  Is it possible my pussy’s on fire even though it’s wet? I’m electrified with the fantasy of the moment, but the
charge is thrilling. God. If this is my reaction to just the idea of sex with the man, the real thing might kill me. I’ve seen a hint of the length of him, a preview through swim trunks and tights. Lord and hallelujah, I’m in for a good buggering.

  Both of us have built this up to be something epic. Will it turn out to be all I’ve imagined? I’m pretty sure the answer is yes, because it’s not just my pussy telling me something wonderful is about to happen. It’s my heart.

  Barely a word’s been spoken since leaving the party. But he’s holding my hand, and our eyes have said a volume. Every so often he looks over at me and when he does I feel like a schoolgirl who just discovered the boy she secretly loves, loves her. Thrilling is too weak of a word.

  I think we’re both afraid if we say anything this feeling might evaporate. So I take his hand and bring it to my lips, making sure he’s real and not just a dream.

  Lifting my hand to his lips he returns the kiss. “We’re almost there.”

  A final turn winds up a narrow two-lane road that climbs a hill. The higher we get the better the city view, the more the twinkling lights bring the magic.

  “This is a little bit of heaven, Brick.”

  I’m surprised when he pulls onto a long driveway leading back behind a modest, older one-story. It’s a charming structure with a porch and a swing. The house sits on top of the hill and the closest neighbors are on the street below.

  He shuts off the engine and looks at me with stormy blue eyes. He’s so fucking hot.

  “I’ve never been as excited about being with a woman as I am right now.”

  His hand reaches under my hair and brings my face close. For a moment he just looks at me. Then his mouth is on mine. Gently at first, taking soft, satisfying kisses. But it doesn’t take long for the passion to build. His breathing becomes heavier. My panties wetter.

  I feel his hand move around from my neck, down the front of my dress. My nipples harden with the nearness of his touch.

  “Touch me, please.”

  He watches as his fingers graze over the gossamer fabric, then move to my nipple. This sensation is everything.

  “God yes.”

  It’s only a second or two before that hand slips down the front of my dress. I’m braless. His jaw tightens, and his hips lift just a little in his seat.

  Leaning my head back, I take in the feeling. Hands pull my neckline down. I’m exposed.

  “Oh god,” he says in a soft tone. “Beautiful.”

  Then his mouth is on my nipples, sucking and making them peak. Strong hands explore the shape and size of me. I can’t help but touch myself between my legs, over the fabric. Rubbing. When he sees what I’m doing, he gets an exquisite look on his face, like he just had a sexy vision. Then I go further. I reach over and place my hand on his cock.

  “Let’s get inside,” he says, leaving no room for refusal.

  He covers my breasts and we get out of the car as fast as possible. I’m practically running. He drops his phone and steps on it. I trip on my long skirt rounding the back of the house and almost take a header into a giant oak tree. Right there in the midst of our passion we start laughing. Hard.

  The view and the landscaping around the large pool is spectacular. I start to comment, but he covers my words with an indecent kiss. Our tongues, our lips, his hands on my face. It all takes away any opinion I have to offer. What house? Pool?

  And all the while I’m pretty sure he’s working to disarm a security system, without looking down once.

  “Fuck!” he says, finally putting both hands and his attention on his key remote.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “The fob sticks once in a while. Shit!”

  I take the keys from his hand and toss them to the table next to the chaise lounge. That gets his attention. I’m making an executive decision. The time for waiting’s over.

  The wreath of flowers on my head goes first. I toss it into the pool, followed by Robin Hood’s hat. They float away, linked together by the feather.

  One piece of ebony hair falls over his forehead. I love that misbehaving lock. Everything slows down now. It’s never going to be the first time again. I want to remember it all.

  He unties the narrow, braided belt I wear, and it drops to the ground. I encircle his waist, undo the apron strings and fling it aside.

  Finding the hem of his tunic, I raise it just enough to be able to see the outline of his erect cock. He lifts the tunic right over his head and throws it behind him. Fuck me, sweet baby.

  The man is a god in green tights. His manhood almost breaking through the fabric. We lock eyes.

  Then he starts to peel them down, one inch at a time.

  “Tease,” I say.

  “Want more?”

  “Yes, please.”

  I come close and take matters into my own hands. My fingertips trace across his bare skin from hipbone to hipbone. At first I feel the length and width of him over the tights. Lord. Fingering the tip makes him groan. I take his balls and very gently lift them in my palm.

  Then my hand moves inside the tights. Before I even touch it, his cock is moving. Anticipation. It’s taking us higher. My fingers wrap around his hardness.

  “God. Yes,” he says pumping in my hand. “Kiss it, babe.”

  He peels the tights down and exposes his assets. I lean over and get up close and personal with the most magnificent cock I’ve ever seen. Jesus. I give him a peck on his pecker, just to tease. Then a lick all around the head.

  “Wait! Let me take these tights off. They’re cutting off my circulation.”

  “Not to your cock they’re not.”

  He grins and takes my hand, leading me to the patch of grass around the pool. Sitting down, he gets to removing the green laced shoes. I start to lower my dress from the shoulders but he stops me.

  “I want to do that, January. Just let me get this costume off.”

  “No hurry. I’m enjoying this immensely.”

  He’s having a hard time with the multiple laces and the knots. So, he breaks them with his bare hands.

  I straddle his legs and give him my best heated look.

  “If you get those tights off in the next ten seconds, I’ll give you a glimpse of things to come.”

  He lays back and peels the tights off in one quick movement. Now he’s a naked god, resting on his elbows, ready to be rewarded.

  “Well, clearly I gave you too good of odds.”

  “Let me see,” he says, ignoring my comment.

  I make him wait for it. Just a bit.

  Without breaking eye contact, my hand goes down to the skirt of my dress and I start gathering it up very slowly. Brick’s lost the grin and his gaze has lowered to my hand.

  When it gets close to the reveal, I stop. His eyes dart back to mine.

  “Show me.”

  I lift the dress above what can loosely be called my panties. They’re so delicate and barely cover my lips. Besides that, they’re mostly see-through. Not that I planned anything.

  He sits upright the second he sees what I have for him. Awe transforms his face. I try to lower the skirt, but his head dives underneath. Then his mouth is on me, hands grasping my ass and pressing me closer. I could die in this moment, and know without a doubt, I once knew the real meaning of pleasure.

  Chapter 8

  Brick

  Peeling her panties down is my new favorite aerobic activity. My heart’s pounding. I want to look.

  Fuck.

  She’s my idea of perfection, everywhere. Bare except for the tiny patch of hair. Lips so soft and perfectly formed. When I separate them, her clit’s visible and waiting for me.

  What a sight.

  She’s moaning as I touch every fold and crease. I press my lips to hers and my tongue knows the way. She’s incredibly wet.

  Goddamn.

  Perfect. It tastes like sex. No more waiting. I kiss her one last time and come out from under her dress. Her face is flushed and she’s breathing heavy.

 
; “You’re beautiful,” I whisper.

  She sits right down on top of me and leans close.

  “Fuck me right here,” she murmurs.

  I roll her over. Now I’m looking down at that fantastic face.

  “How attached are you to this dress?”

  “Not at all. Get rid of it.” I straddle her body, take the neckline in my two hands and start tearing. The fabric’s so delicate it hardly takes effort.

  First the breasts are exposed. Her chest rising and falling with desire. Pink areolas and erect nipples all for me. I put them in my mouth, sucking one beauty then the other.

  My dick’s pressing against her, but a piece of the dress is preventing flesh against flesh. I lift myself up just long enough to gather the skirt. I rip it apart in a frenzy to get at her. Her pussy against my dick sends a charge through my balls, up my spine, directly to my brain. She spreads her legs and every cell in my body cries out for her.

  Without any more foreplay, she’s as ready as I am. I balance myself on one arm and take my dick in the other. Running it up and down her lips, knocking on her door.

  “Please. Put it in,” she begs.

  Legs wrap around my back and I can feel her opening to me. I gently put the head in. Balancing myself with hands on either side of her. I’m holding back. Then I slowly push, carried by the slick of her juices. But it’s fucking tight. Even with the help.

  “Oh god! God!”

  “Too fast?” I say.

  Her hands go to my face. We lock eyes. “No. I want it all.”

  I take her leg, put it over my shoulder and adjust my angle. There. Better access. I push inside. She lifts up and down with my rhythm. She can move better than anything I’ve experienced.

  Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.

  Her eyes close. Starting slowly, I roll into her. Undulating with every thrust. She begins to moan. So do I. My dick’s never been harder. Never have I been as turned on. She closes her eyes for a few beats.

  “Look at me,” I say between breaths.

  Her lids lift and I’m staring into that blue lake. It’s no longer serene, but wild and intemperate. The color of her eyes has changed with passion. They’re darker now and burn with lust. It excites the fucking hell out of me. I’m part beast now, rising from her waters.