Lawless

by Teagan Kade

  He leads me over to a table, sitting me down and returning with a bottle of water. “What happened?”

  I wipe my eyes. I must look terrible. “Reporters. A lot of reporters.”

  Carter raps his knuckles against the table, shaking his head. “Fuck. They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

  “Not physically, but…” I don’t know if I want to repeat their questions, to speak and give them mock credibility.

  He wraps his arms around me, pressing me into the same, wet shoulder as before. “I’m sorry, baby, but we both knew they’d come. It will pass. They’ll move on to the next story. We just have to give it time.”

  I nod against him. “I know. I just didn’t expect…”

  He holds me away, smiling, bringing the bottle of water to his lips. “Here. Drink.”

  “Why are you so good to me?” I ask. “I thought ex-cons were supposed to be all hard and badass, all ‘you’re mine tonight, not tomorrow’?”

  In a burst of laughter he sprays water over the carpet. “And I made shanks out of combs and never bent over to pick up the soap too, right?”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Well, did you?”

  He tilts his head. “Sure, and Morgan Freeman left me a note under a tree.”

  I wrap my arms around his neck, always surprised by how firm he is—a rock. “You know I don’t like people dissing my favorite movie.”

  He narrows his gaze. “Get busy livin’, or get busy dyin’.”

  “Guess we better get living then.” I lean my head forward and kiss him.

  I’m freshly shaved, already wet.

  He lifts me up from the seat.

  There are no windows, no way to see through the front doors. We’re safe.

  “Take off your dress,” he says.

  I begin to shake with anticipation, the need so urgent it hurts.

  With trembling fingers I reach down to the hem of the dress and slowly pull it above my head and off.

  Instantly, my nipples harden against the tepid air.

  He comes forward.

  “Bra and panties, too.”

  I remove them, standing naked before his heated gaze.

  “Put your arms above your head.”

  He reaches out with one hand and explores my chest as he spins me around. He strokes and kneads my breasts before pinching and pulling at my tender nipples. Below, my clit buzzes, moisture seeping from my pussy when his hands dip lower, running over my stomach and down to the cushiony vee of my sex.

  I start to walk backwards, teasing him with a hooked finger.

  He follows. “Watch out now.”

  “For wh—”

  I walk right back into the open gate leading to the rink. I trip and fall flat onto my butt on the ice, sliding away laughing.

  It’s fucking freezing.

  Carter steps onto the ice.

  I try to get up.

  “No,” he says, “stay down. Spread your legs for me.”

  I spread them, heels scuffing on the ice.

  “Wider.”

  His eyes lift and I’m struck again by the depth of color within them, blues that span the entire kaleidoscope—deep cerulean, azure and everything in-between.

  He strips away his clothes, one article at a time until he stands before me in nothing more than his socks.

  He slides on his knees across the ice, slides right between my legs like some kind of icy rock star.

  His fingers brush my legs and I quiver, more so from his touch than the cold that lashes at the extremities my body.

  I’ve let my knees fall apart slightly and his eyes move there, between them. Gooseflesh rises on my skin, my back prickling against the ice.

  His erection grows outwards, thick and long.

  Our eyes lock together in that moment. I begin to shiver. My nipples press as arrowheads into the top of my thighs, compressed there.

  I’m cold, but I’m hot too.

  A sudden need takes over, desire flooding through me. My breathing is strained and uneven as the head of his cock rises steadily into the air.

  It grows, stiffening further and further until the top of it, a baby apple, rests against the hard plane of his chest.

  Mesmerized, I cannot look away.

  My teeth drag along my lower lip as he crouches between my legs.

  His member hovers between us, bouncing unaided in the no man’s land there, veins thick on its surface.

  Take me, I want to yell. Please. I’ll do anything if only you’ll take me now.

  He places his own elbow inside mine and leans his head in. Even as his lips approach, I sense the heat they give off in juxtaposition to the cold ice below, his hard body in wait.

  My lips meet his and I shiver as they press together. He kisses me deeply, his hand at the back of my head, drawing me to him. His tongue, warm and wet, probes at the hot cavern there, seeking out my own. Together they tangle as his fingers move over my dimpled skin, my spine twitching and a warmth leaking from the heated space between my legs as my sex readies itself for him.

  I pant harder, the skin of my back burning, sticking to the ice.

  I reach down and curl my fingers into myself, using the fluid that seeps from my swollen lips to lubricate his shaft, rolling my fingers over his length and pistoning my hand up and down upon him. He stiffens in response, pressing himself against my chest.

  His mouth leaves me and takes up one of my nipples, pulling it taut from my breast. Caught between his lips, it stretches there as I pump my hand below, his hips sliding forwards and backwards in rhythm, knees slipping on the ice, my ass on fire against the frozen surface.

  I roll my hand around the glassy knob of his cock as it leaks against my palm, his arousal merging with my own and preparing him for the enviable union, a union my body yearns for in desperate anticipation.

  He takes place between my thighs.

  I gasp when his fingertips press back the velvety folds of my vagina. He places his cock at my entrance and thrusts forward.

  Oh, god.

  The cold, the pain—It’s all forgotten.

  I shudder in delight as his prick moves past my lips and penetrates slowly into the depths of my wetness. He takes my ankles and raises them into the air until my legs are vertical, sliding me back and forth on the melting ice below as he slowly drives his cock in with powerful thrusts.

  My fingernails scratch long channels into the ice at my sides, strange noises coming from my lips. His cock opens my pussy wider, penetrates me deeper. Soon I cannot control my plaintive moaning as his shaft becomes more and more merciless inside me, almost caught to the hilt.

  He pushes at my legs until I’m folded in two, a frosty wetness gathering at the base of my skull where it meets the ice. Clouds of white leave my mouth, drifting outwards like dancing specters caught in the void between us. He heaves my legs again and my thighs touch my breasts until I’m like some strange inverted insect. He slides himself back until only the head of him remains inside and then slowly, drives back in.

  His thick cock disappears up to the hairs, feeling as if it is going to come out of my navel. I slap my hands flat on the ice as his speed quickens. I hiccup and scream with each thrust, struggling to gather air and send it to my lungs. Trickles of sweat gather on my forehead and freeze just as quickly. All the while his member moves forward and back, sliding easily into my wetness, his body hard against my clit.

  He presses down on my legs and drives into me harder than ever before, desperate to seek out the deepest confines of my pussy, and when I feel this, his cock threatening to tear me in two, I scream out in delirious joy, my eyes closing and the words “Yes, yes,” a quiet mantra upon my lips.

  My orgasm hurtles through my body unexpectedly, with such velocity and fury I do not notice his cock jerking with its own, imminent release.

  Another orgasm tilts into the first. I swear to god my back’s breaking as I arch off the ice, my skin burning where it remains in contact—hellfire.

  Carter thrusts on.
His enormous cock buried in my core. It squeezes him like a velvet tong, his balls, heavy with cum, brushing against my raised buttocks, fine hairs tickling my anus.

  Finally, as the embers of my orgasm drift away and the spasms subside, I am dimly aware that he’s stopped. With a series of groans, I feel him flood my pussy.

  He sits, lifting me from the ice. I fall into his lap and scream as a second orgasm overlaps the first, my fingernails digging deep into his back.

  We kiss, the welcome warmth of his tongue a blissful contrast to the icy rink around us.

  When I open my eyes, I see his own glazed over in ecstasy.

  I rest my head against his shoulder. “How’s your butt?”

  “Cold,” he laughs.

  Carter

  We use the showers in the locker rooms, dressing by the rink.

  “Well,” says Wren, “chalk that up as another first.”

  As she pulls her dress on, I notice her back is patchy with red from being pressed up against the ice.

  I do my buttons up. “I think you’ll find there were many firsts in that particular encounter.”

  “For me, maybe. I don’t even want to know what you got to up to in your Crusher heyday.”

  “No. You do not.”

  She straightens up, fully dressed. “All this sexing is wearing me out, you know.”

  “I don’t think ‘sexing’ is an actual word.”

  “You’re not getting sick of me, are you?”

  Never. “I’m not my brother. I’m not about to go off with Monica or whatever the fuck her name was.”

  Wren stops fixing her ponytail. “How do you know her name?”

  Shit.

  I shrug. “I guess I read it somewhere.”

  Her hand drops, her hair spilling down. “That’s funny, because I haven’t. People knew about David’s affair—your father, some of his close colleagues, but it occurs to me now, how did you know? Were you talking to him, when you were in prison?”

  I shake my head. “No. The family cut me off completely, David included.”

  She’s working it out. “But you guys used to talk, didn’t you? You talked the night you went and shot that guy. What aren’t you telling me, Carter?”

  “Wren…”

  She looks down, bringing her hands to her head. “Holy shit. He was cheating on me before you went to prison, wasn’t he, with her, Monica? He told you about it. What did he say, Carter?”

  She’s becoming flustered. I don’t blame her, but this isn’t how I wanted this conversation to go down—not here, not after that.

  Tell her the truth.

  Fuck. “Yes,” I nod. “He told me. He bragged about it to my face.”

  Her eyes are welling up. “I can’t believe it. You knew he was cheating on me.”

  “I did, yes.”

  “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

  Whatever emotion she’s going through, it’s turning into anger now, and it’s being directed my way.

  “Look,” I begin. “I was angry at you back then. I was angry at you ever since you chose David. We hadn’t spoken in over a year or more, you and me, so—”

  It’s lost on her. “How could you, Carter?”

  “Wren, it’s different now, I—”

  “Come on. I’ve had enough of this ‘I chose David’ bullshit. You never gave me any indication you were even interested in me like that, Carter. You fucked off and played the bad boy, screwing up your life.”

  “Oh, so that’s what you think happened?”

  “It’s the truth, isn’t it?”

  I want to tell her to go to hell, but I remain cool. Don’t lose her. “Would it have made a difference, if I had of told you about the cheating? Maybe I was trying to protect you. Have you considered that?”

  She starts to cry. “You just told me why you didn’t tell me; because you were trying to hurt me, punish me for choosing David and not you, the womanizer, the brother with absolutely zero prospects.”

  Enough of this. “And look what fucking happened by marrying the golden child. That worked out well for you, didn’t it?”

  I don’t know where this is coming from, but I press on. “It wasn’t just this Monica either. He was fucking other girls in the firm too. Did you know that? Honestly, how could you have been so fucking clueless?”

  She wipes away the tears, physically distancing herself from me. “Fuck you, Carter.”

  I throw up my hands. “Yeah, fuck me, blah-blah-blah. Does that make you feel better?”

  “Go to hell.”

  I take a breath, enough to see the error of my approach here, the complete insanity that has suddenly overtaken me. “Look, I’m sorry. Let’s talk this out.”

  She stands.

  “It’s too late for that, Carter. It’s too late for everything.”

  Wren

  His silence says it all.

  Finally, he speaks. “What was I supposed to do, Wren?”

  She’s shaking her head. “I thought we were friends, even then.”

  “Admit it,” I push. “As soon as you hooked up with David you started to push me out of your life, you and everyone else.”

  There’s a heaviness behind my eyes, more tears welling. “That’s not true and you know it, but you knew, Carter. You knew and you did nothing. Are you even going to apologize?”

  He turns away with his hand up.

  “Don’t you turn away from me!” I scream.

  When he turns back, I see the hurt and hate and everything boiling behind his features. “Maybe it was your own stupid fucking fault for marrying him in the first place.”

  It’s too much. My emotions have got the better of me.

  I pick up my cell, tossing it into my handbag. “I’m leaving.”

  “Great.”

  I walk to the front doors and he doesn’t follow. I don’t care. I just want to get as far away from him as possible.

  I walk fast down the sidewalk, removing my cell from my handbag. I hold it with one hand, wiping away tears with the other.

  “Hello?” comes the voice.

  “June…”

  She immediately senses something is wrong. “Wren, what happened?”

  “I need your help,” I tell her, choking back tears, trying to prevent myself from falling to the ground and waiting until the coming winter covers me completely.

  I swallow before speaking again. “I’m ready to come home.”

  I wait in an empty lounge at Vancouver International for my flight.

  June was happy to pay for my ticket. I insisted I’d pay her back, but she wouldn’t hear of it.

  I try to compose myself. I’ve been staring at the blank screen of my cell for what feels like hours now.

  Carter hasn’t called. He hasn’t texted.

  Whatever we had is over.

  I think about the three of us—David, Carter and I. We were inseparable. We had our own cliques at school, but once that bell rang we were out the door and looking for mischief. Our parents didn’t care we were out all hours, even where we ended up. We had money to burn and the time to do it.

  God, we had some adventures. Maybe that’s why Carter went off the rails, trying to replicate that free-spirited fun we used to have, to make up for…

  Don’t say it.

  …Losing me.

  Those poor kids were brought up to be competitive, taught to win at all costs. How would it have felt? What must have he been going through inside when David announced we were getting married?

  I don’t know what to make of it. I can’t even comprehend what was going through his head after the accident, and where was I? Where was my support? I was too busy in New York socializing and trying to play the perfect wife to give a damn.

  All this time Carter had feelings for me. Was I really that blind?

  Stupid, perhaps, but definitely not blind.

  Thanks, brain.

  “Flight UC393 to New York is now boarding.”

  I’m about to switch off my cell whe
n the screen lights up.

  I check the incoming call. It’s Natalie, my boss.

  Compose yourself.

  I straighten my top, wipe my face, even though we’re not Facetiming.

  “Natalie,” I answer, “how are you?”

  Typically Natalie’s pretty cordial. You have to be in her position, but her reply is far from it today. “I’m sorry to be calling like this,” she says, her usual effervescence gone. “But we need to talk”.

  “About the birds and bees? The falling rate of oil?” I joke.

  No laughter echoes down the line.

  “Star Bright is a charity built on public perception. I’m sure you know that.”

  I don’t like where this is going. “Of course.”

  “In fact, public perception is pretty much all we have.”

  “Is there a problem with Star Bright’s image?” I query.

  “Not directly.”

  “I’m not sure I follow.”

  A pause, a breath taken. “I’ll cut straight to it, Wren. We’ve been taking a bit of heat thanks to all this media exposure.”

  “Media exposure?”

  “This thing with David. It reflects badly on…” She doesn’t finish, but I can hear the ‘you.’

  I haven’t been on social media for days, haven’t even accessed the internet. I was too busy getting off… in the most delicious, back-bending way. And it’s all gone. “I wasn’t aware, sorry.”

  “The charges, Wren, the investigation, and now you’re with the brother-in-law, a convicted felon, and so soon after…” She trails off again.

  I feel my defensive urges rising. “That’s my private life, Natalie. I don’t see what it has to do with Star Bright.”

  She tries a different tact. “You know we all love you here. You’re great with the kids, our clients, but I’ve fielded too many calls not to take action.”

  “Take action?”

  “We’re going to have to let you go—for now.”

  This I was not expecting. “You’re serious?”

  A huff. “I’m afraid so. You’re welcome to come around and collect your things when you’re back in New York, take a day to tie up any pending leads and clients, and I’m sorry, I really am, but the pressure’s too much. My hands are tied.”