by Lisa Suzanne
Oh, my. He certainly is. His body so close to mine drives some of the fear out of my mind, but a tiny bit of it still hangs on.
I push his chest away from me and grab my purse off the counter. “Well great, then. I’m starving.”
We get into his rental car and he starts driving. I’m not sure where he’s taking me, and I’m okay with that.
He rolls his window down, and I follow suit. To be honest, I hate riding in the car with the window down. My hair—which I spent hours perfecting—whips in my face and gets stuck to my lip gloss, and it’s just not my favorite thing ever. He seems to be enjoying the breeze, so I let it slide. We end up on Coronado Island, which I wasn’t expecting. We sing along to his playlist, which is comprised of a surprising amount of Taylor Swift songs. Even more surprising is the fact that he knows all the words to every song.
Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
In fact, it’s beyond charming, and I find myself liking him even more. He may be vague about some personal things, but he’s definitely a loud and proud Swifty.
We walk a couple blocks to a restaurant. He seems very sure of himself and where he’s taking me. I’ve lived in San Diego my entire life, but I’ve never been to this place before. I’ve never even heard of it. It’s called Payo’s, and it’s some sort of Asian seafood fusion place.
After we are seated in a cozy round corner booth, he says, “A bottle of wine okay?”
I giggle. “You know what wine does to me.”
He raises an eyebrow and then shoots me a wicked grin. “That’s exactly why I asked.”
I grin. “Wine’s fine.”
He’s sitting right next to me, and I can feel his heat beside me. It’s a small booth, but we both have room on our other side. It just seems like neither of us is willing to break our close proximity.
We peruse our menus. “What’s good here?” I ask. He shrugs, and I laugh. “You took me somewhere you’ve never been?”
He looks a little sheepish. “I asked Axel where the best place to take a girl is. He told me Coronado, and this place had great reviews.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “You asked for the best place to take a girl?”
He nods innocently.
“Why do I feel like there’s more to the story?”
“Fine.” He sighs heavily, as if I’m forcing him to reveal his darkest secrets. “I asked him the best place to take a girl I want to lay.”
“Aw! You want to lay me? How sweet.” I elbow him in the ribs, and he jumps. Apparently I’ve located a ticklish spot, information I’ll keep for later.
“I didn’t think that was a secret, but I still wanted to make a nice night out of it.”
“Well so far I’m having a great time.”
“The date has barely even started. Wait until you see what else I have planned.”
I shake my head at him. “You know you didn’t need to take me out for a fancy dinner to get me into bed, right?”
He shrugs. “Too late. Guess we better make the best of it.”
We order, and then we sip our wine. “Have you ever been to Napa Valley?” he asks, nodding to the wine.
I shake my head. “I’ve always wanted to go, but I haven’t made it up that way yet.”
“Add it to your trip.”
I cock my head. “What trip?”
“Your dream trip. The one where you drive through the western states? You can drive up through San Francisco and hit Napa on the north side.”
I nod slowly, sort of surprised that he remembered that. I know I just told him about it yesterday, but then we had all that sex, so it feels good that he remembered something personal about me. It feels a little bit like we’re building something stronger than an intense sexual connection. I push that idea away and bury it deep with those feelings I pushed down earlier.
“I like that idea,” I finally say with a small smile.
“You seem to love wine, so it makes sense to go see where it’s made.”
“You don’t think it’ll ruin the magic?”
He chuckles. “Have you ever been to a winery?”
I shake my head. “Have you?”
He nods. “Not in Napa, but I’ve been to others. You get free samples at some of them.”
“Well count me in for sure, then.”
We talk some more about wine and wineries, but I still have a burning curiosity to know more about him.
“So you told me a little about your parents today,” I say once our food arrives. “Tell me about your brother.”
“Carson?” he says.
“Carson and Carter?”
He shrugs and rolls his eyes. “My parents have a thing for names that start with that sound.”
“Clearly.”
“They’re Karoline and Carlton.”
“Good thing they didn’t have any more kids. They might’ve run out of boy names that start with C-A-R.”
He chuckles. “My mom’s name starts with a K.”
“Karoline with a K?”
He shrugs. “Her parents were…unique.”
“And bad spellers.”
He laughs.
“So, Carson.” I lift a forkful of mahi-mahi to my lips.
“He’s older than me by a little over a year, and he’s a lot wilder than I am.”
“Wild how?”
“He likes fast cars, fast women, and fast living. A lot of the company executives want King Communications to go to me when my dad retires, but Carson is the older one, so he’s heir to the CEO position.”
“Why does that automatically mean he’s heir?”
“That’s the way my great-great-grandfather wanted it. He started the company, and the original bylaws state that the CEO must always be the eldest son in the family lineage. Obviously those bylaws have changed since it’s a public company now, but it has remained in the family anyway.”
“So what if there isn’t a son?”
“There always has been, but there’s something in the bylaws about that. It can go to the eldest daughter or something.”
“And if the CEO has no kids?”
He shrugs. “I think then it would go to the next son in line, or the first grandson from any sibling in the line above.”
“What if your brother doesn’t want it?”
He takes a bite of his crab. “Then it’ll go to me.”
“Do you want it?”
He shrugs. “Yes and no. There are other things that mean more to me.”
I want to ask what, but the waitress comes by and interrupts our conversation to ask if we want another bottle of wine. We do, apparently, and the moment has passed, but it still leaves me with burning curiosity. It seems like every time I get close to finding out more about Carter, I’m only left with more questions.
We’re done eating, and the waitress asks if we need anything else. We have half a bottle of wine to finish, so she leaves us alone.
The booths in this restaurant have really tall backs, so our little booth in the back corner is actually semi-private. Carter rests one hand on my thigh as he lifts my hair behind my shoulder with the other, and then he leans in to kiss my neck when I tilt my head back to take a sip of my wine. I moan, because his lips feel so good on my body and the wine keeps sliding easier and easier down my throat.
His hand slides up, and I let out a tiny gasp when his pinky finger brushes against the outside of my panties. He leans in and kisses my neck again, and I hear a quiet moan escape him.
The ache that started building from the moment I opened my door to him this evening intensifies to a nearly unbearable level.
His pinky toys with the edge of my panties, and I allow my legs to fall open to allow enough room for his fingers. I turn in slightly toward him because I realize we are, in fact, in a restaurant, and there are people all around us. Even so, we’re in a quiet corner by ourselves, hidden away from the rest of the world, and I think I might die if his fingers aren’t inside me in the next ten seconds.
Luckily, we don’
t have to find out if that is in fact the case.
He runs his pinky along my most sensitive skin, and then he stretches my panties to allow all his fingers in. He brushes softly against my clit, and I nearly fall apart at the exhibitionism of this.
While I’ve had some good sex in my life, I’ve never done anything like this. I’ve never been fingered in public. I’ve never wanted to rip off my clothes and mount my man in the middle of a restaurant, but Carter brings out these animal instincts I didn’t even know I possessed.
He pushes one finger into me, and my breath hitches. I groan softly, and I hear his quiet shh in my ear.
I force myself to be quiet, which is difficult considering the level of pleasure he’s currently delivering as he adds a second finger and drives the two digits in and out of me. His hand is trapped by the confines of my panties, so he doesn’t have a lot of room to move. It doesn’t matter, though, because the way he’s touching me is enough. I grip the table with both of my hands because if I don’t, I might yell out in pleasure.
I let go, my body clenching around his fingers as the Epic Quake takes over. I can’t think, can’t move, can’t even breathe for a minute as I focus all my energies into coming as quietly as I can so the people eating fish at the table next to us don’t know that this guy actually just gave me an orgasm during their dinner.
Carter leans in and kisses my neck again, and I turn my head to catch his lips with mine. I’m panting, and he’s grinning.
“You okay?” he asks as he pulls his fingers out of my body.
I nod, still unable to speak, and allow myself to collapse back into the booth.
* * *
If I’m being honest, I’m a little drunk. Every time the liquid in my wine glass fell below half, Carter would fill it back up to the top. I swear I drank a bottle and a half myself. He had maybe two glasses, but he drank it slowly and flushed it with water, using the defense that he has to drive.
Coronado Island isn’t very big, particularly the downtown area with shops and restaurants. It’s really just a few blocks, and the two of us meander hand in hand as we window shop and people-watch.
It’s all so romantic and sweet—not at all what I would’ve imagined for a date with Carter King. It’s actually perfect, and that little sex appetizer he gave me back at the restaurant has me wanting more. I want him—all of him. I want him inside me and surrounding me. I want his mouth on mine, and I want all of it without any confines.
I know it’ll happen again, but my place is so far from here.
He wants it, too. He has to. He just fingered me in a restaurant. He just watched me fall apart because of what he did to me, and he’s just as flushed as I am.
So, when the ache builds to a point where I can barely take it, I turn in toward him and impulsively press a kiss to his lips before I back away.
His eyes meet mine, and he immediately knows what I want—what I need.
He breaks our eye contact and glances around, and then he grabs my hand and practically runs down the block. We turn at one corner and then turn again, and suddenly we’re in a quiet alley behind a row of shops and restaurants. It’s deserted back here, quiet and private, and it’s exactly what the two of us need in this moment.
This back alley is lined with small doorways and brick walls. He shoves me up against a door, pinning me there with his hips. It’s aggressive and beyond hot. His mouth crashes immediately down to mine, and I’m helpless to the world around me as Carter consumes me.
My little vow from earlier—that I was going to play it close to the vest—goes right out the window. When he’s kissing me, all rational thought leaves my brain and I’m only able to act on pure instinct.
He shoves his hips against mine, and the ache between my legs intensifies to levels I can hardly bear. One of his hands grabs for my breast while the other braces his weight against the door behind us.
He abruptly stops the kiss. “Fuck,” he mutters.
“What?”
“I don’t have a condom.”
I reach into the small purse I brought with me and pull one out. I hold it between my forefinger and my middle finger, and his lip curls as he raises an eyebrow.
“Always prepared,” I whisper.
A small smile plays at his lips, but it disappears quickly as he snatches the condom from between my fingers. His mouth comes back down to mine for more, and all I can do is kiss back. All I can do is try to meet the aggression with which he’s coming at me, but it’s futile. I’m his to play with, and nothing short of someone opening the door we’re about to fuck against is going to stop this freight train.
I hear the condom rip open, but I’m so caught up in his lips and his tongue that it barely registers. I know he’s doing something with his hands because his body moves away from mine, but his mouth is hard and unforgiving against mine, punishing. I like controlling Carter. This is a new side to him, and the brutal force just in his kiss is an unexpected turn-on.
He lifts the skirt of my dress just a little; I’m still covered should anyone happen by the passionate couple in the back alley. He pushes me up a little harder against the door, and then he slides my panties over like he did earlier. I’m suddenly on my tiptoes, spreading my legs apart to help him get to me, and then I hook one leg around his hips. He plunges into me without warning, which is fine because I’m still wet as fuck from when he fingered me in the restaurant. The steel hardness of his body connecting with mine sends an immediate fire through my blood.
If I wasn’t a little drunk, I’m not sure I’d be doing this right now.
That’s a lie.
It wouldn’t matter if I was drunk or sober. This—Carter fucking me in a back alley—was inevitable tonight.
I still don’t understand the intense connection forming between us, but I think there might be some things we aren’t meant to understand.
He pumps into me the way he kisses me: strong and unrelenting, powerful and passionate. He grunts as he thrusts his hips upward, and I groan at the feeling of him burying himself as deeply as he can inside me before backing out nearly all the way. He’s quick with his movements, one arm now firmly planted under my ass, the other still supporting him against the door. I feel my back slam into the door every so often, and all it serves to do is ignite the fire inside me.
When I come, it’s fast and it’s hard. My release slams through my body as I pulse all around him. I’m unable to control the volume of my moans, but I’m also unable to care because I’m so consumed by him.
He bucks up into me a few more times before he lets out a long, low growl of satisfaction.
Once his orgasm subsides, he leans his head down into the space between my neck and my shoulder. I grip the back of his head with my hand, pulling him to me. He’s still inside me as we hold each other in a public alleyway behind some store, and somehow that sweet, tender moment goes down as one of the most romantic moments of my life.
He turns his head in toward my neck and presses his lips softly to my sensitive skin, and my heart swells for him.
Oh fuck. A swelling heart for this guy I’d already written off?
That can’t be good.
* * *
CK: You feeling okay this morning?
Me: I just washed down five Tylenol with a gallon of water, so I’m doing better.
CK: Sorry about all the wine.
Me: I do actually totally blame you.
CK: Are you free in about an hour? I’d love to come by and make it up to you.
I glance up at the clock on my phone.
Me: For you, yes.
He doesn’t write back, but he does ring my doorbell almost exactly an hour later. He’s as sexy as he always is, and I scrambled for a shower and some makeup in the hour since he texted me, so I’m feeling much better.
“Come on in,” I say, opening the door wider.
“Actually, you’re coming with me.” He grabs my hand and pulls me toward him, but he doesn’t move. Our bodies slam together, and
it reminds me of last night in that alley.
Which, by the way, I’m still not over.
That was hot as hell.
He leans down and kisses me, and it’s such a contrast to last night. Last night was passion and need and instant gratification. This is languid and lazy and confident, as if we have all the time in the world.
I break away breathlessly. “Let me just grab my keys.”
A few minutes later, he’s driving through town, and then he turns into a neighborhood. He pulls into a driveway of a gorgeous home situated directly on the beach.
“Is this it?” I ask.
He nods.
It’s a three-story mansion. The outside is all glass and ivory stucco, and it’s incredible. I stare up at it in awe for a few quiet moments.
“What do you think?” he asks. His voice holds a hint of anxiety, and it strikes me as so odd coming from him.
“First impressions?”
He nods again.
“It’s gorgeous.”
He smiles with a bit of relief, and I’m frankly surprised that my opinion means so much.
“I’d take you on a tour, but it’s not mine yet and I don’t have a way in.”
“Then I guess we’ll have to wait.” I feel a little disappointed because I’m dying to know what it looks like inside, but something tells me I’ll get my chance.
COURTING SANDY EGGO
posted by Courtney Sanders
EXHIBITIONISM IN AN ALLEY
Have you ever seen a couple having sex in public? Or even making out? Like you can’t quite look away because you know something is going on over there and you’re really curious to know if they’re actually doing what you think they’re doing, but you don’t want to be that nosy person staring at the couple kissing who might be doing a whole lot more than kissing?
You know the ones—the people who are so passionate about each other that they can’t even make it home. We all think it only happens in movies or books, but, dear readers, it happens in real life, too. Apparently this is more common after a couple bottles of wine.
There are some stories I want to hold dear to my heart. Sometimes things happen and I don’t want to post them here for the world to read.