A Kiss For Carter

by Davina Stone

  “Lucy?”

  “Yeah… Lucy…” Her voice trailed off. Did she really want to know? About Carts loving another woman? Kissing another woman? A churning feeling settled where her ribs met her stomach. She’d never deemed herself capable of jealousy, but was she? Was this a sign she was in deep? Already? She cleared her throat. “Were you two serious?”

  “Kind of. We were together a year. That’s long term for me.”

  Her gut constricted. What if Carts was one of those commitment-phobic men who came on all hot and strong and then lost interest? Wined and dined you and then whoosh. Gone. A couple of girls she knew had been… what did they call it? Ghosted or something. She’d been horrified when she heard, and retreated to her sewing room and washing Mark’s socks, grateful that she wasn’t out in the world getting ghosted.

  “Perhaps we shouldn’t talk about exes,” she said. “Let’s just enjoy tonight.”

  He murmured his agreement and they cuddled once more. To hell with worrying. She was far too practiced at that. Here now, in the present, she wanted to be daring, to take risks. So, when his arms tightened around her, she pressed her body along the length of his, delighting in how lean and muscular he was. She found where his shirt met his pants, gave it a little tug, and let her hands roam across the velvety skin of his stomach. The muscles of his abs quivered and he buried his face with a sigh into her hair.

  “You smell divine,” he murmured.

  “So do you.” She pressed her lips softly to his neck, saw his Adam’s apple bob, once, twice, as if he was swallowing hard. She nipped little kisses lower, around his collar as her hands sneaked up his back.

  “Oh Christ!” Deep and guttural, it was her cue to keep exploring. Her hands moved over his hips, around his butt, and then, daringly, she pulled him against her belly. The ridge of his erection strained against her, and a thought struck her that was utterly and completely out of character

  Oh my, big boy!

  Stifling a bubble of laughter, she lifted her lips and kissed him with a ferocity the Judith of yesterday would not have believed herself capable of.

  Man, oh, freakin’ man!!!

  If he’d thought hand-holding had been a turn-on, think again.

  The pressure of her lips, the wild tangle of their tongues… her hands roaming up his back, over his hips and pressing into his butt cheeks… and things were hotting up down below faster than a six-burner barbecue.

  He tried to back off on the kiss, just for a moment, to regroup and claw back a skerrick of self-control…

  But then with a little moan, Judith did some wicked rotational thing with her hips. And suddenly his cock was galloping full tilt for the finish line.

  Holy fuck NO!—No way… not here…

  Desperately he wrenched his lips from hers. Stumbled backwards.

  She stared at him with a mix of puzzlement and hurt. He’d never want to hurt her, but neither did he want… Oh, Christ almighty, it had almost got very messy.

  Wrapping his jacket around himself, he shook his head. “Shit, sorry, I—it’s just—”

  His cheeks were on fire. Miserable humiliation slugged him and all he wanted was to crawl under the nearest shrub and hide from her gaze.

  He wasn’t a real man. Real men had control over their libido. They didn’t almost blow on a kiss.

  She stepped back. He tried to grab her hand and missed.

  “Did I do something wrong?” she asked

  “No, it’s not you,” he said desperately, “it’s me, I’m—” He tried to find words that wouldn’t give the whole miserable game away. “Could we just, you know, take it slow? Get to know each other a bit better, first.”

  Judith’s spine snapped straight. “Absolutely. Of course.” Her voice was thin and strained and polite, as if she was talking to a stranger. With a flick of her hair, she turned and started walking. He followed, tried again to grab her hand but she was swinging her bag by the strap, and it banged into his leg. He stifled a yelp. What the frig did women put in their handbags to make them hurt that much when they bumped you?

  “I didn’t explain myself very well,” he muttered miserably.

  She stopped on the path and said, “It’s okay Carts.” She sighed. “Look, to be honest, this is a bit silly, isn’t it? I mean, I’m only four weeks out of a long-term relationship, and I’m trying to seduce you behind a tree. I obviously misread the signs. I’m totally rusty about all this dating business to be honest.” Her laugh was as paper thin as her voice. “Just forget I did that. Please.”

  “I loved it… honestly.” He reached out and this time located her hand and lifted it, with the bag still attached. They both stared at it, and he felt her tug of resistance and quickly released it. Hand and bag dropped like a weight. Like the weight around his heart.

  Judith looped the bag over her shoulder. “How about we meet at yoga next Friday, have a drink afterwards, just get back to where we were before.”

  His shoulders sagged and she must have noticed because she said, “Hey, it’s okay. Really. I’m not upset.” Her tone was soothing as she rubbed his arm. He felt like one of her patients, and realised how good she was at making people feel better.

  “I like you. I really do,” he pleaded.

  “Thank you. I like you too.” She said so airily it almost disappeared before it reached his ears.

  She started walking and silently he fell into step beside her.

  In the darkness his mouth moved as he searched for words. I very nearly came when you kissed me; my brain seems to have lost control of my dick… variations came and went… No freakin’ way could he say any of them.

  So, he said nothing at all.

  It was Judith who finally said, “I really should be getting home.”

  His heart bleeding with the realisation that he’d blown probably the most important date of his life, Carts replied politely, “Of course, I’ll walk you back to your car.”

  Chapter 7

  When Judith finally located Polly on Monday morning, she was typing up a report in the Echidna Ward staff office, her dark curls tugged into a tight knot on top of her head and her pretty mouth pulled into a grim line.

  This was so unlike the usually ebullient Polly that Judith hesitated. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes of course.”

  “It’s just you scooted off after the team meeting and you’ve kind of been…” Judith searched for words, feeling for some reason like she had to walk on eggshells.

  Polly tapped her lips with her pen and lifted an eyebrow. “Been what?”

  “A bit off,” Judith supplied lamely, then gathered her courage. “Since Carts’ birthday party, actually.”

  Polly gave a shrug. “Just busy.” Then, narrowing her eyes, she went in for the kill. “But more importantly, how have you been since Carts’ party?” Judith felt her skin tingle with a blush as Polly pushed on. “Have you met up again?”

  Judith had confided in Polly after Carts’ party about The Kiss (it always had capital letters in her head), so she guessed she only had herself to blame for Polly probing. She also knew that there was something Polly wasn’t admitting to, or rather someone, in the form of the handsome locum psychiatrist, Dr Solo Jakoby, but she was too completely overwhelmed with her own problems right now to focus on it. Sinking down in a chair opposite Polly, she sighed. “To be honest, I’m confused.”

  Polly sat back, her face brightening. “Tell all. I need a distraction from writing this family therapy report.” As well as being a social worker, and renowned for her counselling skills, in her personal life, Polly was a matchmaker extraordinaire. She had an amazing knack for getting people to talk about the most intimate details of their lives.

  Like now.

  Judith stared at her hands. “I think I’ve scared him off.” She glanced up and, sure enough, Polly’s interest was piqued.

  “Not possible. I saw how he hung around you at his party, he couldn’t even greet his other guests. Believe me, he’s got it bad.
But I do need the deets if you want my advice.”

  Judith squeezed her hands together. She really did need to offload; it had been going round and round in her head all weekend. “Okay, so we went out Friday on a date, and it was lovely. He took me to Blazers on Elizabeth Quay and insisted on paying, which I know is really old school, but it was nice because Mark never paid for anything, I even paid for my own birthday dinner last year.” She took a deep breath. “Anyway, afterwards we had gelati and we talked and walked, and then he—you know, we, um, cuddled and stuff and I kind of got a bit enthusiastic.”

  “Go, you!”

  Judith cringed. “No, no you don’t understand—it all went horribly wrong.”

  “What did you do? Rip his pants off in public?”

  “No, of course not. It’s just I remembered what you said a couple of weeks back, about how women need to call the shots more often. I wanted to show him I was all in. But I think I took things too far.”

  “Uh-huh.” Polly sounded thoughtful. “In what way?”

  Judith felt the colour suffusing her cheeks. “In the kissing department.” Her lips twisted into a rueful smile. “I even surprised myself.”

  Polly lifted one foot onto the edge of the desk and rocked her chair back. “Carts hasn’t had a date for a year. You probably blew his fuses.”

  “He did say that.”

  “That you blew his fuses?”

  “No, that he hasn’t dated for a while.”

  “Oh dear. The poor guy’s a sperm bank waiting to happen.”

  Judith’s eyes widened. “Polly!”

  Polly threw back her head with a wicked gurgle. “I swear you are easier to shock than Alice. I think that’s why I love you, you two are so alike. Except she’s got two left thumbs when it comes to craft. She can’t even wrap a gift without sticking her fingers up with tape.”

  Judith grinned. It was nice to be compared to Alice. It made her feel like she might have finally made it into Polly’s close-knit circle of friends.

  “Anyway, I digress. What happened next?”

  Judith sandwiched her cheeks with her palms. “Oh god, it’s so embarrassing. Basically, he jumped away like I’d bitten him and said could we take it slow. Get to know each other first.”

  “And what did you say to that?”

  “I agreed.” Judith nodded emphatically to make her point. “In fact, I said to him, that obviously I—I shouldn’t be getting involved with anyone this quickly after Mark.”

  Polly looked baffled. “Why not?”

  “How could I take Carts back to my place…? There’s still a bottle of Mark’s shampoo in the shower, and some of his work clothes in the wardrobe. It wouldn’t be nice.”

  “Oh, fuck a doodle, is that all?” Polly waved an airy hand. “Forget nice. Nice gets you nowhere. Alice was nice to Aaron, and he repaid her by sleeping off his hangovers on her couch and getting her advice on how to escape his latest dating disaster.”

  “But he fell in love with her? In the end,” Judith said eagerly. She’d heard part of the story from Polly before. “Something must have changed?”

  “She seduced him.” Polly smirked and tapped a finger on her chest. “With a little advice from yours truly. He’d been in love with her all along, but men’s brains don’t always connect to their hearts. Something to do with their dicks interfering with the wiring.”

  Judith laughed; her mood already lifted. Polly had a knack of making you take things, even tragedies like Friday night, more lightly.

  Polly leaned her elbows on the desk conspiratorially. “So what’s your next move?”

  “I think taking it slow is very sensible,” she lied, trying not to let her mind revisit the purple-hued fantasies she’d been having all weekend.

  Polly cast her a disbelieving look and Judith opened her mouth to solidify her stance when the door opened, and Solo’s head popped around it.

  “Ah, Judith, here you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I need you to come and talk to a patient about anxiety management strategies.”

  Judith glanced at Polly. Her face had gone blank as her eyes snapped back to the computer screen. The room felt like someone had blasted it with icy air.

  Solo ignored Polly. Polly ignored Solo.

  Awkward. Very, very awkward.

  Her gaze pinned to the screen, Polly said flatly, “Doctor’s orders must be obeyed.”

  Judith thought Solo gave a snort.

  What was wrong with these two?

  But there was no point questioning it because the frostiness was turning into a blanket of icy tundra that was quite unpleasant to be around.

  Solo lifted an eyebrow. “Was I interrupting something?”

  Judith jumped to her feet. “No, nothing important,” she said and followed him.

  Carts drove to work listening to the Ramones on full volume to try and keep all thoughts of Judith out of his head. Which failed miserably when “Baby I Love You” blasted at full volume through the speakers.

  He stabbed it off with a snarl.

  The problem was the whole disastrous evening had been on replay inside his head all weekend. And none of his favourite music from the eighties seemed to alleviate the situation.

  After his hard-on hash-up, they’d made stilted conversation until they reached Judith’s car. She’d been searching for her keys in her bag, head bent when he’d decided to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. He’d missed and hit his chin hard on the crown of her head. She’d rubbed at the spot, and he’d reached out and rubbed it too, rather like he used to do to Avery when she’d bumped her noggin as a kid. Which might be the right thing for an older brother to do… but with the woman you were so hot for you could barely get the words out, let alone your dick to behave, it was wrong—as—fuck.

  Sure enough, she’d given him a tight, polite smile before pecking him on the cheek in what could only be described as a sisterly way.

  Doomed, utterly doomed.

  After moping around the house all of Saturday, ending up half-cut at the Shamrock with Dan and Carts’ new housemate Solo, who incidentally had been in a mighty foul mood this past week, he’d finally plucked up the courage as he zigzagged a path home at midnight to thumb into his cracked phone, Thanks for a lovely evening yesterday. Hope to see you at yoga.

  He hadn’t got a message back until halfway through Sunday morning. He swore his fucking stupid screen had got even more cracked, because reading it had been a challenge, but he’d managed to decipher, Thank you, I really enjoyed it. See you at yoga. x

  His mood had leapt at the words “really” and “enjoyed”. Then sank as he decided that x was definitely lukewarm. xxx would have been okay. An emoji of a heart would have been fantastic. Actually, amend that; x was probably cool, verging on cold. He guessed it was not as cold as her not replying at all, not in the super cold territory like when you were searching for the hidden pressie as a kid and your parents kept shouting cold, colder, freezing.

  Not freezing. Which meant there was still a glimmer of hope.

  On Sunday morning he’d tried to call Aaron in England, then realised it was the middle of the night in Cambridge. He thought about Aaron tucked up in bed next to Alice and the envy he’d thought all gone hit his gut, hard and sour. Yet again he’d found himself in a game he didn’t understand the rules to, flailing around trying to work out what the hell to do next. Looking in from the outside, like some ragged, grimy-faced kid in a Dickens novel.

  By Sunday afternoon his grumpiness had reached new heights. A fat lot of use his year off women had been. He should never have taken Polly’s advice on that. He was now so out of practice he’d almost made an abject fool of himself.

  Finally, desperate for a solution, he’d sat down at his laptop and googled premature ejaculation. Because while he knew he hadn’t exactly been Casanova before, he’d never been at risk of this. Her kiss, her touch, the way she’d pulled him close and pressed her beautiful body into him, had fundamentally done him in.

&nbs
p; And then he’d blown it, by intimating he wanted to take it slow. He hadn’t meant the relationship part, and, no, of course he hadn’t meant not kissing each other. Jeesh, Judith’s kisses were the best. It was like their lips had been designed by some divine being to fit together perfectly. A kissing prototype made in heaven.

  But… but… what if he couldn’t perform?

  He guessed pulling back was better than the other possibility… though crickets, it had been a close call.

  His eyes scanned the google list of treatments for ejaculatory problems. Finally, he clicked on one from a health channel that looked viable and wasn’t trying to sell him snake oil.

  Okay, anxiety could cause it. Yes, tick that box. He was terrified. What was he supposed to do about that? He read on.

  Avoid sexual encounters and focus on other aspects of the relationship. Well, hmm, that was all very well, but Judith clearly was hot for him, a fact that still filled him with disbelief. How long could he keep rejecting her advances? Hell, he was equally hot for her. He just needed to manage the major glitch in his anatomy.

  Okay, what next?

  The pause, squeeze technique. Carts’ eyes widened in horror. This one involved getting close to your orgasm, then asking your partner to squeeze the base of your penis. Oh, Jesussssss. He got up and paced the room, raking fingers through his hair. This was not his idea of making love for the first time with Judith. Gazing deeply into her eyes and asking, would you mind giving my dick a squeeze…? No, not there, a bit lower down…

  He forced himself to sit back at his computer and scrolled down the screen. Reduce sensitivity by wearing a condom. Fair enough, that was one piece of sound advice. He’d always been super considerate with safe-sex practices because of course it was as much the guy’s responsibility as the woman’s. But then, what if she wanted to roll the condom on him and he came while she was—he groaned out loud. Oh, fuck NO!

  He tried to calm his erratic breathing. Went over to his record collection and studied the spines. Playing some of his favourites from the eighties was usually guaranteed to improve his mood. He removed the first cover that came to hand and his eyes fell on “Tainted Love”. That got shoved back quickly. Next came Marvin Gay’s “Sexual Healing”. Freakin’ unbelievable. Okay, he’d pull one out at random and not look at the title. He dusted the vinyl, placed it carefully on the turntable and put the needle to it. Out came the opening bars of Frankie Goes to Hollywood’s “Relax, (don’t do it)”. He managed a twisted grin at that; there was clearly no escaping his problems through music. He went back to his laptop, chewing hard on the inside of his lip, and read the next gem of wisdom.