by Bonnie Dee
He looked at her, and Carrie nodded.
“Anyway, I’ve been working on letting go of the anger, but sometimes I’m still just plain mad. Even at her for leaving us.”
“It’s a natural reaction.”
He shook his head. “Christ, I told you I was finished whining about my dead wife and here I go again. Sorry. I’m sure it’s the last thing you wanted to hear.”
“No. I asked because I wanted to know where you’re at, what you’re feeling. You need to talk about Angelina. She’s a big part of who you are.”
Carrie set down her tea, untouched. “I wish I could say I’ve ever felt anything that strongly. You’ve lived a whole life in a decade, been in love, had a marriage, a family, suffered through the death of a loved one. I look at my life and what have I done? Nothing. Went to college and got a job.”
“That’s something. That’s important.”
She shook her head. “I’m talking about emotional involvement. I’ve never…I mean, I haven’t really…” She exhaled, then tried again. “I keep telling myself I’m just not meeting the right kind of guy, but the truth is I’ve never let my heart open up that much. I skate around the edges of things. I don’t plunge in and take chances.”
Ric looked at the mug in his hand. “Tonight was a leap. You took a chance and went out with a stranger.”
“The Valentine effect,” she reminded him. “This afternoon I was thinking I didn’t want to spend the holiday alone, and then you walked in. I got swept up in the moment. Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad I did. It’s been a wonderful night. Unbelievable.”
“But just one night. I understand.”
Wait a minute. How did we get here? That’s not what I meant to say. Carrie tried to backpedal, to take the sting from the ill-planned words. “No. It could be… There could be more. I mean, if you wanted. Another date. See where it leads.”
He set his mug on the counter and turned to look at her.
“Dating a guy with a kid, that could be a very big leap. Are you up for it?”
She met his gaze. “Honestly? I’m not sure yet.”
Nodding, he crossed the space between them and put his hands on her waist.
“That’s all right. Let’s not worry about what comes next, okay?”
He suddenly lifted her up on the counter and moved in between her legs, a hand on each of her thighs, pushing the long tails of the shirt up out of the way.
“Right now, let’s just do this.” Leaning into her, he pressed a kiss to her neck.
Her arms went around his back, holding him close. “This is good,” she murmured, threading her hands in his soft, soft hair. His neck, corded with muscles, was warm beneath her palm as she cupped her hand around it.
He pushed the shirt off both her shoulders and kissed his way over the rounded curves. “Man, I love the way you look in this.”
Just hearing his appreciation made her feel sexy. She imagined how she appeared to him, soft womanly curves framed against his big, masculine shirt. His lips nuzzled at the upper swell of her left breast and she wondered if he could feel her pulse pounding against his mouth.
“Mmm.” He lifted his head and gazed at her with hungry, lust-filled eyes. “Can’t get enough of you, baby. But we’re supposed to be having tea, and how about some of that cake, too?”
“Sounds good,” she murmured, barely comprehending the words. Her brain was all lust-addled again.
Ric kissed her cleavage once more, then released her waist and stepped away from between her spread legs, leaving a cold, empty spot. He picked up her abandoned tea, fished the teabag out with a spoon and handed her the mug.
Crossing to the refrigerator, he brought out the white Styrofoam box from the restaurant and got a fork from a drawer.
Carrie sipped her still-steaming tea. “I don’t know how you can eat any more. I’m still stuffed from dinner.”
“Burned off a lot of calories.” He forked up a bite of cake and offered it to her with a smile. She couldn’t refuse and opened her mouth to accept the dessert on her tongue, where it melted in sinful sweetness.
“Mm. Fantastic. Is this made at the restaurant?”
Shaking his head, Ric took a bite of the cake. “There’s an old woman who bakes all the desserts for the restaurant in her home.”
“She needs to find someone to distribute and market for her. This stuff could make her a fortune.”
“You can’t mass produce something like this. It loses something. Besides, these old ladies guard their recipes like gold. She’d never reveal her secrets.”
He gave her another bite then leaned in to lick any residual frosting from her lips. His tongue slipped between her lips, touching hers, and savoring the chocolate with her. Sweet and hot, the kiss was a confection in itself.
Carrie felt his hand at the front of her shirt. He unbuttoned the top button, revealing both her breasts when he pushed the material aside. Pulling away from her mouth, he forked up a bit of the soft, gooey icing from the top of the cake. A quick glance at his focused gaze let her know exactly what he intended to do with it.
Depositing a dollop carefully on her right nipple, he leaned to suck it into his mouth. God, it was hot, the way her breast looked decorated in chocolate, his pink tongue darting out to taste her and his thick lips wrapping around her tit.
“Shit!” Carrie realized she still held her cup of tea clutched in one hand when the hot liquid hit her thigh. She set the mug on the counter and brushed the water from her leg.
Ric released her wet nipple with a pop and retrieved a dishtowel from the oven door handle to pat her dry. The tea wasn’t scalding and the pain alleviated almost immediately. He leaned to press a kiss to the slightly pinkened flesh. “Okay?”
“Fine. But…actually, up here farther…” She pulled her over-sized shirt all the way up her legs to reveal the juncture between her thighs. Indicating a spot just to the left of her pussy, she added, “See, right here. It kinda burns. Could you kiss it better?”
He growled, a low, throbbing sound in his throat and bent to touch his mouth to the crease of her inner thigh.
Pushing her knees wider apart, he crouched between them and burrowed his face into her crotch, nuzzling her all over. Carrie laughed and tensed as he tickled her with his exploring tongue and nibbling kisses. He moved in close to her pussy without touching it, and her nether lips swelled and ached, yearning for contact.
She wiggled farther forward on the counter, hands braced against it on either side. With a complaining whimper, she lifted her hips a little, offering herself to him.
Ric rose and reached for the container of cake he’d set on the counter. He dipped his finger in the icing, scooping up a thick blob.
“This could get messy,” he warned, his dimple flashing.
Her crotch tightened in anticipation, and she watched, enthralled, as he frosted her seam, depositing the bulk of the chocolate on her clit.
Again he crouched, facing her, and leaned in to taste her. His long tongue lapped over her swollen pink lips, delving between them and licking up the icing. She moaned and thrust toward him, her eyes falling half-closed. It felt so good, especially when his tongue laved her erect bud, swirling around and over it.
His fingers spread her lips wide to grant him better access to her private parts. The sight and feel of him bathing her with his tongue drove her wild.
“Oh, God, that feels so good.”
“You like that, mami? Tienes una crica bonita.”
“Yesss,” she hissed, lifting her ass off the counter, reaching with her pussy for the contact he suddenly withheld. “Please!”
He laughed and obeyed, bending to his task again.
She melted as the pressure of his mouth descended on her again, his tongue stroking, his teeth nipping sharply at her clit. Since she’d already come several times that evening, her body was as soft and malleable as overripe fruit. It took only a slight shake of her tree to send that fruit raining down. His tongue was like the whisp
er of a breeze that pushed her over the edge.
Carrie cried out as she came, bucking against his torturing mouth as waves of delight flooded her system. Sweeter than the sugary cake, the pleasure of orgasm exploded through her senses. “Ahh!” The back of her head hit the kitchen cupboard as she collapsed backward.
Ric sucked on her clit once more, sending a last charge shooting through her, and then he kissed her belly before straightening to look her in the eye.
“Gotta have you now. No time for more cake.” He stripped off his briefs and lifted her off the counter. Her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms around his neck as their mouths fused together like they were superglued.
His cock prodded her, pressed against her still-pulsing pussy and into her stomach. Lifting her higher, he settled her on the tip and pushed inside with a low groan. Her vagina was still tender and trembling from her orgasm and from the earlier fucking, but her inner muscles automatically clutched and drew him inside where he belonged.
His hands gripped her ass, and he staggered across the kitchen with her. The counter was too high so he pressed her up against the refrigerator, knocking magnets and school papers to the floor. Carrie caught a glimpse of Nando’s school picture fluttering to the ground, his grinning face staring at her, and a pang of guilt flashed through her—as if she’d been caught doing something wrong.
She closed her eyes and surrendered herself to the moment, forcing all worries from her mind. There was just this—her back against the smooth vinyl surface of the fridge, a magnet pressing into her flesh, and a big, hunky, beautiful man holding her close, balanced on his cock, which filled her like it was tailor-made for her body. As he pulled out and thrust in with a grunt, her eyes flew open. “Oh Ric, condom!”
“Crap! Goddamn it! Sorry.” He pulled his cock from her and let her slide down to her feet. Reaching in the breast pocket of the shirt, which had slid most the way down her arms, he pulled out a green foil-wrapped packet with a flourish.
He grinned. “Put it there before I gave you the shirt, just in case.”
“In case we had kitchen sex?” Carrie raised an eyebrow.
“Well, yeah. And aren’t you glad I did?” He ripped the condom open, sending the wrapper flying to the floor, and rolled it on his cock. Once more he cupped her ass, lifted her up, and aimed for her entrance. She slipped her hand between them and guided him home.
He gave a grunt of appreciation as he seated firmly within her. He bent his head to nuzzle her shoulder as he pumped in and out.
She arched her hips into him, pressing her upper back against the fridge door. Her legs were clamped tight around his waist and her fingers gripped his back, feeling his muscles expand and contract with each push. God, he was built as solid as a brick house. He must lift weights, ’cause how much muscle did a guy use working on cars? He had no problem supporting her weight as he fucked her upright. His strength made Carrie feel as light and tiny as a doll.
His lips tickled her neck and shoulder as he fed on her flesh, moving restlessly over it. Quiet groans reverberated in his chest, sending a thrill through her. As the pace of his thrusts increased and his groans grew more desperate, she knew he was getting close to coming.
“Aw, Christ,” he muttered. “Fuck!” He slammed into her with abandon, leaving her breathless from the force of his thrusts. The magnet, which she’d forgotten to move when she had the chance, dug relentlessly into her mid-back.
Her soft moans escalated to match the strength of his passion, and her arousal swelled again from the point deep inside where he pummeled into her. Impossible! She couldn’t manage a fourth orgasm in one evening. Hell, she’d scarcely ever had that many in one week! But the expanding sensation inside her grew, like a sponge absorbing more and more water until it was plump and full and ready to be squeezed out, showering water everywhere.
One last time Ric drove into her with a curse, then froze, his cock pulsing in her tight channel. Carrie came almost simultaneously, her pussy clenching violently around him and releasing a gush of fluid. She gasped and squeezed her thighs around his hips, digging her fingers into his back as wave after wave shuddered through her.
His breath was hot and moist against her throat. She slid a hand up the back of his neck, holding his head against her. Turning her face into his hair, she felt the soft curls against her mouth and chin as she nuzzled and kissed his bowed head.
After holding her sandwiched between the fridge and his hard body a few moments longer, Ric once more set her back on her feet. Her legs were quivering, almost too weak to stand.
“Whew! That was…” She trailed off.
“Oh, yeah,” he agreed. “I definitely think we need to lie down for a while.”
She glanced once more at the scattered papers on the floor, the one hundred percent with a smiley face at the top of a short essay about why dogs made better pets than cats. Nando’s manifesto was clearly a plea to get a dog. The reminder of students and school brought Carrie back to earth with a thud.
“What time is it? I have to get up early in the morning.” She scanned the kitchen searching for a wall clock and found the red digital numerals on the stove. “One-thirty! Oh my God, I’m never going to be able to drag myself out of bed.”
“Then don’t.” Ric pulled her close again. “Call in sick. It’s a Friday. How much did you really have planned?”
She rested her head against his warm chest, breathed in his scent, and strongly considered his proposal. “It’s tempting, but there are things I wanted to finish, and assignments I planned for the kids to work on over the weekend.”
“At least come back to bed for a little while. I need a cuddle.”
“Oh, when you put it that way…” His adorable request won her over. “What’s another half-hour or so?”
Chapter Eight
After rinsing the stickiness off herself in his shower, Carrie wrapped in a towel and walked back into Ric’s bedroom where he waited, sprawled naked on the bed with his arms behind his head. Every sculpted muscle was delineated in the light and shadow cast from the bedside lamp. His flaccid cock resting against his belly was large and imposing. He looked like a pin-up, so gorgeous that her pussy tightened again. In one evening, he’d turned her into an insatiable nympho. The mere sight of him had her tingling all over.
“God, you’re hot, woman.” His eyes appraised her, skimming up and down her body like fingers touching her. “So hot. Take that towel off so I can see you.”
His appreciation made her feel beautiful and desirable. She dropped the towel to the floor and posed for a moment, hands on hips and chest thrust forward. Then she laughed and dropped her arms to her sides. Springing onto the bed hard enough to make it bounce, she flopped down beside Ric.
He pulled her into his arms, spooning behind her. His cock rested in the groove of her buttocks, a thick, solid weight. Kissing her shoulder, he murmured, “This is what I’m talkin’ about.”
“Mmm.” She stretched and yawned and nestled back against him, wishing she could stay, knowing she shouldn’t. It wasn’t just a matter of calling in sick to work. She’d certainly earned a day off, not having taken any all year. But there was something about spending the night and waking up in Ric’s bed in the morning that seemed too much like a commitment to continue this relationship. And she still wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
Everything had happened so quickly. An after-school parent-teacher meeting had evolved into a date and an all-night sex-a-thon. It wasn’t her nature to be carried away like this. She felt like a piece of driftwood caught in a flood, out of control and likely to wind up lodging anywhere. Right now she just wanted to pull back into her own space and regroup.
“Please, baby, stay all night,” he whispered against her shoulder. “I’ll make sure you get up in time for school.”
“Love to, but I can’t. Just a little longer, then I have to go.”
He gave a disgruntled groan and held her even closer, but didn’t argue.
; A half-hour turned into almost two as she lay in his arms in his big, comfortable bed. Both of them fell asleep almost immediately with no further talking. Carrie dozed and woke a half dozen times, each time checking the bedside clock and telling herself, “Just a little longer.”
When she woke and found it was almost four in the morning, she couldn’t put off leaving any longer. She slipped from underneath Ric’s heavy arm and out of the warm nest of blankets. She stood for a moment, debating whether to wake him and say goodbye or just leave him sleeping peacefully. He looked so beautiful in the lamplight with his long, dark lashes curling on his cheekbones. He was like a painting of an angel, strong, dark and fierce—one of God’s powerful warriors rather than a vapid, golden-haired cherub.
If she woke him, he’d cajole her into staying the rest of the night. No way could she reject the lure of his hot body and soft bed. It would be rude to simply go, but she could leave a note for him downstairs thanking him for everything.
Padding silently from the room, she walked down the steps to the quiet, empty living room. She located her clothes strewn across the floor and gathered them up.
It was disorienting, dressing in the silence of a strange house, listening to the hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen and the furnace kicking on, wondering exactly how she’d gotten there. Carrie tried to pinpoint the moment when she had suddenly spun into an alternate dimension, because this certainly wasn’t her normal life. Must have been when she was standing at the window, looking at the red light the plastic stick-on heart cast on her hand. It was then Ric had walked through the door and shaken up her world.
“Can’t last,” she muttered, pulling her fuzzy sweater over her head and smoothing down her static-filled hair.
It took her some time to find a piece of paper and pen to write him a message. There wasn’t a pad of paper by the phone and in the end she had to use a paper towel and one of Nando’s markers. She sat on the couch, pressing against a magazine held on her lap, and wrote, “Ric, Thank you so much for the wonderful evening. I’ve never had…”