He turned and gazed out at the darkness of the lake, illuminated only by the moon and the lights behind us. I stared at his profile, drinking in every detail of his face. I even began counting the number of freckles on his face. I got up to number seven before he spoke again.
“I had my first swimming lesson right here on this pier.” He turned to me with acute eyes. “I was about four years old, and was skipping stones while my father talked business on the phone. I went to reach down to grab one of the fish I saw swim by and I fell in.” He stopped to glance at me and see if I was following him
I was.
“My father abruptly ended his conversation. I thought it was to come save me. Instead, he stood over me at the edge of the pier and told me to kick my legs.Stop fighting the water, he yelled to me. For the life of me, I couldn’t understand what the hell he was talking about. I just needed him to save me. I yelled for him to help me and he saidI am helping you.He told me to let the water carry me. I did and eventually I began to float. He instructed me to kick my legs and move my arms to propel me farther. I did and was able to get back to the pier’s ladder, where he helped me up. I hated him at first for doing that shit. Ran and told my mom, who got into a huge fight with him. They stopped speaking for a week. It wasn’t until I went away to boot camp that I became grateful for his lesson. He taught me at four years old; I had whatever I needed to survive right inside of me. I didn’t need outside help,” he finished, turning toward me, and I was able to finally release the breath I hadn’t known I was holding.
“Why did you tell me that?” My voice came out just above a whisper.
“Because I want you to know everything about me. I want you to know who I am. All of me.”
I gulped the saliva that pooled in the back of my mouth.
“Let’s quit playing games, sugar.” He placed the glasses down on the small, wooden table that sat in between two chairs on the pier. He moved, coming to stand over me, staring down at me with such intensity that his gaze alone held me in place.
“You stayed because, despite your hesitation, you want this just as bad as I do. You wantmejust as badly as I want you. So, let’s cut through the bullshit. Are you taken?”
I drew my eyebrows together in confusion. “Taken?”
“Are you married?”
I shook my head.
“Boyfriend?”
“No.”
“Then that settles that.”
And before I could respond and tell him that no, that did not settle the matter, my face was in his hands, and his lips were on mine. My ‘no’ became all jumbled in my head, until it became a resoundingyes!I wanted more of this, more of these kisses, more ofhim.
“Let’s take this inside,” he whispered against my lips, voice hoarse.
My belly quivered and my legs trembled, so much so, that I wasn’t sure I’d be able to walk on my own free will. I didn’t need to. With the ease and comfort of a man who never missed a gym session, Carter stooped low and picked me up into his arms. Air flew from my lungs and I stiffened, clinging to his tuxedo jacket, fearful of falling.
“Easy, sugar. I’d never drop you.”
Why did that pet name get to me so? I normally hated pet names, but Carter just made everything sound like silk off of his tongue.
“Hit that light switch for me,” he ordered, after he pushed through the door of the guesthouse.
I did so, illuminating the space. Their guesthouse was the size of my apartment and I guessed they didn’t have any six year olds running around because, like the main house, this place was spotless. It was decorated beautifully in lots of pastel pinks and blues. Carter easily strolled past the living room, down the short hall, his shoes sounding against the hardwood floors, until we entered the master bedroom. The bedroom was carpeted, and in the center stood a large bed, surrounded by four shiny wooden columns.
I found myself being lowered to the bed, and I looked up to see Carter’s face hovering just above mine. I yearned for the feel of his mouth against mine again, and he was too, by the way he stole my breath, planting me with another kiss. I opened up for his greedy entrance, lifting my hand to cup his jaw, running the tips of my fingers against the hairs of his beard. I felt myself being pushed against the mattress and in no time he was over me. I moaned when I felt his erection poking against my stomach. That made me come to a little bit, and I pulled back.
“Carter, I have to go home,” I tried.
“You don’t have a babysitter?” He nuzzled the side of my face, not moving an inch.
I hesitated. I did have a babysitter, a highly reliable one. I’d just text my mother and told her I would be in a little later than usual. She told me to stay out as late as I wanted, that she and Diego were fine. I could lie, however. Carter wouldn’t know the difference. I should’ve lied. Done the responsible thing and gotten out of there. But when I felt his massive hand move up my thigh, under my dress, and make its way into the hem of my panties, the lie wouldn’t form. What came out instead was …
“Yes.”
“Good.” And with that, my panties?the only barrier between Carter’s probing hand and my sanity?were obliterated, with one hard tug. I heard the ripping of the lace, felt the tears of the fabric against my skin, but couldn’t fully process what was happening because Carter’s tongue was back in my mouth. I moaned, and pulled at his tuxedo jacket, when I felt the first contact of one of his digits against my aching nub. He began rubbing circles against my clitoris, sending sparks through my bloodstream. When his fingers moved lower and he first entered me, I jumped at his intrusion, my back arching off the bed.
He slowly penetrated each and every one of my senses, with his insistent kisses and even more insistent probing of my nether lips. His fingers became coated with the juices that spilled from me, and his movements picked up in speed. I was panting into his mouth, unable to catch my breath. When he let his thumb return to my clit, pressing against it, I came undone. My head fell back against the bed and I felt Carter’s teeth scraping my chin. My vision failed me and I squeezed my eyes tightly, against the tsunami that was my first orgasm in a very long time.
“Better than a four alarm fire,” Carter murmured above me, as I was regaining my senses.
