Carlson
We’re cloaked in black velvet infused with shimmering twinkles, surrounded by winking heavens with no horizon or earth, tiny beings merely anchored in the unbound universe.
I watch, air tight in my lungs, as Suzette twirls around with her arms out, head thrown back in abandon and laughing joyously at the magnificent brilliance embracing us. We’re at a clearing in the desert rung by thick, spikey trees and dry dirt, a good eighty miles out from the city. There’s not another soul in sight. It’s December and cold as fuck out here, but she doesn’t seem to notice.
“It’s like we’re one of them. Existing in space.” Suzette stops and turns to me, her gorgeous smile as splendid as any star. “Thank you for this.”
No manufactured lights, no civilized convenience, but I don’t need manmade amenities to enjoy the delighted flush on her cheeks. Watching her, having this intoxicating pull to her, is startling. I tip back my head to admire the glorious view, knowing her gaze is resting on me as I lean against the side of the car, the cold metal cooling my heated flesh, my fists jammed uselessly in my pockets.
Glows of blue, pink, yellow, and white fuse into a stark slash across the darkness.
“Sometimes I wonder what you’re thinking,” she probes when I don’t offer anything in return. “Your size. Your voice. The ink on your skin. They’re contradictions to who you are. An ad to something you want people to believe.”
Nothing. There’s nothing I want to say to that. People see the obvious, the familiar and the effortless. It doesn’t bother me.
“Most of the time you won’t even spare me a glance. A half smile,” she goes on as if mulling to herself. “You speak to me in riddles, a puzzle with missing pieces. They vanish when I get close. You brought me here, hours from HC, from everyone we know, yet you give me nothing.”
If she knew the overwhelming urges I have when it comes to her, she wouldn’t be here with me right now.
“But I’m not convinced.” A deliberate step. Two. “You won’t look at me because you don’t want me to see you. Really see.” The distance dies a slow death. “It’s too late, Carlson. I already saw.”
A shot of light flashes across the sky and is just as quickly gone. “You’re too short to see me.”
She laughs. “A joke? I’m vertically challenged, but that doesn’t mean I’m blind to what’s in front of me.”
The heat, the alluring scent of her envelopes me like the unruly night itself. Inescapable. Raw.
When her fingertips graze up my abdomen, featherlight, it’s a straight up gut punch, knocking the breath right out of me.
Bold and direct. Perhaps it’s the stars. The secluded desert. The bargain beer she had.
My arms are painfully rigid trying to keep my fists in my pockets, my neck unbearably strained from the unyielding post. Not for a second can I give in to the urges I’m hastily battling back, to do all sorts of nasty things with her best left to night whispers.
Without warning she’s tugging me, a foot back, another, away from the safety of the car and right into her inner flame. Slim fingers link loosely with mine.
She’s dancing, sensual hips swaying left to right and back in sync with her shoulders, bringing our joined limbs up to a tune only she can hear. Shifting and swinging in place, yet I don’t move. Can’t. The crossfire of harsh craving and unspeakable restraint. If I do, I fear she might disappear. A fresh, gorgeous mirage. She’s looking up at me like I hung all the stars above us. I’m seized by her, and I know I’m done. There’s nothing left in me but wanting her. Just like this. Blissful. Lighthearted. The way she’s caught up in me, I’m convinced I can do anything. She only has to ask.
“You’re so strong,” she murmurs almost to herself. Her small hands aren’t able to wrap fully around my wrists, but that doesn’t stop her from bringing my palms to her fluid hips. Light fingers skim up my taut arms to my shoulders. “If I place my ear right here…” One palm skids down to my chest, a mere draft. “Would I find your heart pounding out of control?”
She’s tipped up to me, testing my reaction. Waiting for permission? Rejection?
I meet her gaze, a controlled motion I don’t dare test. “That’s assuming I have a heart.”
“You’re all heart, Sebastian Carlson. That’s why you’re so protective.”
I’m on her so fast all she manages is a shocked inhale even as her shoulders slam back against the car, her feet clear off the ground with my mouth consuming hers.
Need to taste her. Need to feel her.
She’s perfect for me. Perfect legs going around me. Perfect arms inclosing me in. I grind against her, hard length against giving flesh. She groans into my mouth, a wanton, needy sound vibrating hotly in my blood.
Lost all reason. Lost all will to resist.
Her cute ass is a firm apple in my hands and sculpted for me. She tears her mouth away to suck in air, desperate feminine gasps echoing with the night sounds. Head falling back, moans of pleas unchecked, she’s giving as good as she’s getting, frantically grating her hips against me.
I drag my mouth down her neck, licking at the chaotic pulse beating against my tongue.
“Carlson.”
I grunt, not wanting to be distracted from my special tasty treat.
Fingers dive into my hair.
Oh yeah. Pull my hair, sweetheart. Pull it good.
She does, yanking my head back. “Carlson,” she pants. “I want to touch you.”
“Touch me,” I urge, not even caring I sound like a desperate and horny teenager. “Touch me anywhere you want.”
“Inside. Now.”
For an elated, hell-yeah heartbeat, I thought she meant inside her. The wild gestures at the car burst that inflated bubble. With her clamped securely around me, I tow her with me with one hand, using the free one to throw open the rear car door. She’s kissing my collar. I nearly drop her when her tongue flicks at the side of my neck.
Licking my tats.
I’m considering inking my dick.
I slide us both along the smooth leather seat and slam the door shut. Suzette is perched on my lap, her sexy legs instinctively adjusting to straddle me.
“You’re so big,” she whispers along my jaw. “Do we fit back here?”
Even with her on me, the top of her head scarcely reaches my chin. “We’re fitting just fine,” I reassure her. It’s true. She can comfortably tuck her head against my neck. “You feel pretty good exactly where you are right now.”
Her lips stretch at my chin. “Only pretty good?” Easing back, she wiggles her ass right over my protruding part. Then she’s twisting her sweater up, revealing soft, pale skin and a simple white bra. “How about now?” she asks, tossing the garment aside with an arched a brow when I’m left drooling at the soft swells. “Still pretty good?”
I’m riveted to the sight of her perky, barely concealed tits. “Fucking gorgeous.”
“Eloquent Carlson,” she teases. Gently, she tilts up to brush her lips against mine. “I think you’re pretty fucking gorgeous.”
I’m running my hands all over her back, savoring the bare, velvety texture, and take her mouth for a savor of a different sort. God, she tastes like the forbidden fruit itself, and I’m the lured, reckless man craving that juicy bite.
I’m so far gone I swear I’m hearing jingles.
Suzette pulls back with a look of exasperation and contrition. That’s when I realize I’m not hearing things. I frown at the sound of the phone chiming a happy tune from somewhere in the car.
“Is that yours?”
Discomfited, she bites her lip, drawing back and urging me to do the same. “I have to get that.”
“Ignore it,” I order and try to dip in for another taste. She’s ripe and sweet. I want to press my face into her plumpness and gobble her up.
“I can’t.” A hand pushes at my shoulder. “That’s my mother.”
My head pops up at that. “Your what?”
She’s already climbing off me. “My mother. It’s after midnight, and she worries.”
The annoying clangs stop only to start again. At least I get an appetizing view of her ass as she leans over the center console to grab her phone from her purse.
“Hi, Mom.” She slants me an apologetic look. “I’m fine. Just hanging out with a friend and lost track of time.”
Disbelieving, I watch her distracted gaze scan the car for the castoff top. No, no, no. I’m not done yet. She barely took off the fucking thing and she’s already putting it back on? All because her mother called?
“I know, but classes are on break,” she says into the phone. “I do have to work tomorrow, but I’ll be fine… what’s that?” Big whiskey eyes fly to me. “My friend? Um… no one you know… not Gemma, but a friend of hers too.”
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
“He’s someone I kind of work with,” she admits with obvious reluctance. “I’ll be careful. Sorry I forgot to call. I’m going home soon. I’ll talk to you later.” She disconnects and slips the phone in her pocket. “Sorry about that. I kind of forgot all about my mother.”
That’s the way it should be when you’re with a man. “Suzette.” I know I’m staring at her like my brain is out-of-stock, but this is unbelievable. “What the hell was that?”
Irritation flashes at my incredulous look, and she quickly snatches up her top. “Don’t judge me, Carlson. I don’t need it from you.”
“Just how old are you?”
Her head disappears in fabric for a second. “I’m legal, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Hey.” A swift tug and she’s back on my lap. “I wasn’t judging you. Okay? I’m just surprised, that’s all.”
Releasing a breath, she nods, not looking at me. “My mother. God. I know it sounds crazy, but I try to alleviate her anxiety as much as possible. She... feels things.”
“What do you mean she feels things?”
A gush of wary exhale, then, “She’s kind of psychic.”
The fuck? “Excuse me?”
“Just a little bit. I mean, it’s not like she actually sees things. Thank God. She just gets these vibes or whatever.” Fingers fiddle at the button on my shirt. “I am sorry.” Her gaze falls on the thwarted protrusion beneath my zipper. “You want me to help you with that before we go?”
I rest my forehead on hers. I’m not sure who’s crazier right now. “Not tonight. Ask me again though.”