My cock hardens in a swift jerk. I readjust it through my jeans, and her gaze dips down.
“I hope you agree with my choices.”
“That’s a tactic. Isn’t it? Blindsiding me with lust in two sentences, and then asking a question? You can get anything you want that way. For future reference.”
Ignoring every testosterone-driven response in my body is difficult, but I do. I need everything to be perfect before we delve into that passion-fueled place of no return.
Carina smiles, tugs on the bottom of her black workout shorts, and says, “Let me show you what I’ve done.”
I nod. “Lead on,” I tell her, extending an arm at thehall to the right of us. I want to look at her ass as she walks—something that won’t help the current situation in my pants. “It smells like home already.” I hate to compare, but this place, with Carina in it, is homier than the house I purchased with Megan. The house I lived in for years.
“Yeah? I’m glad it doesn’t smell like fake wood and spray cleaner anymore,” she says over her shoulder. Carina rambles on about how she wants me to put my touches on the rooms and says multiple times that I can change anything I want.
“I don’t want to change anything. You’ve done an amazing job.” And she has. The house looks lived in, minus my huge rubber storage tubs pushed against a wall in my bedroom. My room. We talked at length about living together and the challenges that may arise. We agreed that our friendship is the number one priority regardless of how taking things to the next level goes. I’ve told my family that Carina is my girlfriend. We’re expected at my mom’s house late this afternoon.
She turns completely when she’s in front of one of the bedrooms at the end of the hall. “I set up my bed in here. I know we said we’d keep separate bedrooms until, well, you know, we established some sort of status we were both comfortable with, but you don’t have a bed yet. And I won’t have you sleep on the couch I put together. For fear for your life, of course. We can sleep in here together. If you’re comfortable, that is.” She’s rambling,looking everywhere except at my eyes.
Glancing over one shoulder, I study her room and the four large marker boards covering a light gray wall. The scribbles and circles confuse me, but my name, always written in black marker, stands out. She backs in a few steps to provide room for me to enter. “Sleep with you, huh? Didn’t you put together this bed as well? Who’s to say this one is any safer than the sofa out there?” I hike my thumb behind me and flash her a grin.
She blushes. “Jasmine put the bed together,” she says, sitting down on the edge of the king-sized mattress. It’s covered in a soft purple duvet. “I told you it was a hidden talent of hers.” Carina bites her bottom lip and pats the bed next to her. “See?”
With her seated, she’s eye level to my dick. A fool would hesitate, so walking a couple more steps, I sit next to her and rest my hand on her knee. “You do realize we’ll need to do more than sit to test her craftsmanship?” I turn in time to see her swallow deeply.
“Right now?” she asks. So few things are this simple anymore. We’re both on the same page—we know exactly what we want. “You mentioned taking it slow when we had the relationship conversation before. Humping like sex-deprived rabbits five minutes after you walk through the door is scarcely slow.” Before I can respond, she slides her hand over mine—the one on her knee—and guides it up her smooth thigh to rest at the hem of her shorts. The skin on my hands is sensitiveto textures and temperatures, and gliding against hers is an extreme pleasure. “Say the word, Smith.”
If I said the words fuck, sex, make love, bang, copulate, or tap, we wouldn’t leave this room for months. Maybe years. I can’t be sure.
Gently, I take her wrist in my free hand and pull her over to straddle my lap. Her face is so close that her nose is brushing my own, and her sweet breath makes me lightheaded. Carina’s arms wind around my neck, and her fingers find their way to my hair. She pulls it softly while she catches her breath.
“While I’d love nothing more than to rip off your clothes and fuck you until I can’t remember my name, we have to go to my parents’ house soon. When, and notice I didn’t say if, I said when, I finally take your body, I’ll need days. First, days to plan exactly what I want to do with you, and then days to execute said plans.” I brush my nose from her ear down her neck.
A tiny moan escapes her lips, and she lowers her hips to sink herself onto my hard-on. Every muscle in my body flexes in response. “What if I have my own plans?” Carina breathes, her voice a mask of longing. This is a new side of her. One I’ve only dreamed about.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, startling us. “It’s divine intervention. Even my cell phone wants my plans to be successful.”
With an exaggerated sigh, she leans to one side to afford me room to reach my cell. I’m not in a careerwhere I can send a call to voicemail. At this point in my work-up, I have to be ready to deploy on a moment’s notice. If I get the phone call, I have two hours to be on base and ready to pack out. It doesn’t mean I have to answer gracefully. “Talk,” I say, holding the phone up to my ear without checking the caller.
Carina leans over to my opposite ear and whispers. She tells me how she can help make my plan successful. I’ve never wanted anything else more. My mother, on the other end, telling me to pick up limes on our way is merely background noise.
She leans back, smiles, kisses me on the cheek, her lips barely brushing the corner of my mouth, and hops off my lap.
I reach out my hand as she goes. My balls are painful reminders of what I almost had. “All right, Mom. She’s excited too. Yep. Yeah. The house is great,” I say, answering her mundane questions with as much patience as I can muster. I hear Carina in the bathroom. The water turns on, and I’m sure I hear the moment her clothing drops to the floor.
I run a hand through my hair and then press my palm down the front of my jeans. “No, there’s nothing to worry about. Yes, I saw it as well. There’s nothing to worry about. Turn off the news. Nothing good comes of it these days.” It’s both truth and fiction. She really shouldn’t watch television anymore, but worry? Yeah, she should. Every day the news reports a new terroristattack. Here on American soil. Each attack gets a little more organized, a little more threatening, and more innocent lives are taken. I hang up the phone after I console Mom one more time and lie back on Carina’s bed.
I want to close my eyes for a few minutes to clear my head and rest my wiles. What feels like minutes later, Carina wakes me by tousling my hair and pressing a kiss to my temple.
“Time to go, sleepyhead.” She’s dressed in a soft pink dress. Her perfume is mouthwatering, and she looks stunning. “I let you sleep as long as I could.”
I drank too much last night. This nap has to be my substitute for the hair of the dog.
I smile at her, letting myself appraise each one of her features thoroughly. “I think this bed will do quite fine,” I remark. Standing, I take her chin in my hand and tilt her head to the side, exposing her neck. Inhaling deeply twice, I close my eyes.
She sighs. “I’m glad you approve.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Carina
