Illicit: A Novel

by Ava Harrison

  “Any reason why?”

  “Growing up, I moved around a lot. I never felt I had a home. But no matter where I was—what city I was in—the stars were always the same. Even if some aren’t visible, you know they’re there. You know what I mean?” For some reason, it feels good to tell him this. Refreshing in a way. It’s not often anyone asks me questions about my home life, but sitting here telling this stranger feels cathartic.

  “I didn’t move around a lot but I understand the feeling of liking consistency in life.” He reaches out his hand and takes the bottle back, pausing for a swig from it. “I know a thing or two about stars,” he says as he looks up to the sky.

  “Do you now?”

  “Yep.” He sits up tall and puffs out his chest, then turns toward me and smirks.

  Wow. That smirk makes me want to relax, have fun. Forget everything that happened tonight and just enjoy the moment. I take a deep breath and try my best.

  “Okay, big shot, what’s that one over there?” I ask.

  “That constellation is Cassiopeia,” he responds candidly.

  “Cassiopeia?”

  “Do you know anything about mythology?”

  “No, not really.”

  “Have you ever heard about Perseus?”

  “Wait, isn’t he the one in the movie with the hot guy . . .”

  He grunts from beside me and I stifle a laugh. “Yes, he’s the hot guy from the movie. He’s also the one who killed Medusa to save Andromeda, the woman he loved. Remember?”

  “Um, yeah, sure.”

  “Okay, so where was I?”

  “Telling me a really long story,” I chide.

  “Hardy har har. Okay, yeah, so Cassiopeia was Andromeda’s mother. She was also married to the King of Ethiopia. She was an incredibly vain woman and believed she was above everyone and so was her daughter. One day she said her daughter was more beautiful than the goddess Juno. The gods decided to punish the country for this comment and let loose a sea monster to kill everyone. When given the choice to sacrifice her daughter Andromeda, and thus, save herself, she chose that route. Luckily for Andromeda, Perseus saved her, but still—”

  “Holy shit. Sounds like my mom.” Our eyes meet and he furrows his brow. “She would easily sacrifice my well-being to make her life better,” I clarify, and he bites his lip in thought.

  “I’m no stranger to crazy parents,” he mutters. I cock my head at him and wonder if he’ll clarify what he means, but after a few seconds of complete silence, I look back up to the sky. I guess he’s like me and doesn’t want to talk about it either.

  “Then what happened?”

  “After her daughter was saved, she was punished by being placed in the sky as a constellation in such a way that her head was upside down half the time . . . forever to be humiliated.”

  “That’s pretty anticlimactic if you ask me. Where’s the humiliation in that? If my mom did that to me . . .” I take a deep breath. “I guess I wouldn’t do anything, either. At least this way, she hangs upside down half the year for eternity. That’s got to suck. Maybe next time my mom pisses me off, I can do that.” I laugh, but I’m only partly kidding. It would be nice to hold my mother accountable for her actions. However, that would require her to be around, not traveling the world and leaving me to raise myself.

  “If only it were that easy, right?” he says, and I give him a half smile. It’s time to change the topic. Talking about my mom is not the way I want to spend my evening. Hanging with Matt and his bimbo would be more fun.

  “What about you, Carson? Any weird things I should know? I mean, we’ll probably never see each other again? So you might as well tell me all of your secrets.”

  He eyes me for a minute, and then shakes his head. “Nope.”

  “Oh, come on. That’s not fair. I told you mine.” I pout and bat my eyelashes.

  “I hate clowns,” he blurts out and I bust into a fit of giggles. “Like, despise them.”

  “Really?”

  His firm mouth curls as if it wants to smile, but he’s fighting it. A small dimple gives him away, though.

  “Have you seen It?”

  “You know that’s just a movie, right? Clowns are just normal people in a costume.” I laugh as I shake my head.

  “Doesn’t stop me from hating them.”

  “Any reason for this ‘hate’?” I air quote, obviously poking fun at him. From the corner of my eye, I can see his lips purse, holding back a laugh.

  “Not that I can remember. Maybe I was tortured as a child.”

  “Maybe,” I say and wait for him to laugh. But when he doesn’t, I narrow my eyes at him. “Wait, were you?” I shift toward him with one eyebrow raised.

  “No. I do have mommy issues too, but she never tortured me,” he air quotes and I nod, but there is no mistaking the hollow look in his blue eyes. I can feel my own pain lodge in my chest at the thought.

  “I feel you. Guess no life is perfect.”

  “Ain’t that the truth? I’ll toast to that.”

  I reach for the bottle and take another big gulp.

  “Why constellations?” I ask him, looking back up to the spot he had pointed to before.

  “Why not?”

  “There has to be a reason?” He shrugs at my question. “You can tell me,” I say.

  “Okay, fine. I guess it’s because it makes something beautiful from chaos. Two points in the sky. Two stars otherwise not connected. Then an imaginary line connects them and everything makes sense.” There’s a deep significance to his words.

  We sit for a while, neither of us speaking as we continue to share the bottle. After my last sip, I balance the bottle in the sand. I’ve had enough to take the edge off. Any more and I’ll be a sloppy drunk, and unlike most of the girls at the party, I don’t enjoy praying to the porcelain god.

  A loud crash from within the house breaks the silence between us. Both our heads turn in unison to investigate.

  “God, they really aren’t the most mature, are they?” Carson says, shaking his head.

  “I know. Sometimes I can’t believe I dated one of them.”

  “You dated one from that bunch?” he asks, looking at me now.

  I shrug. “Yes, unfortunately. Matthew Robinson. Do you know him? He was at the party tonight.”

  “Can’t say that I do. Should I?”

  Thank God. I don’t think I could continue to sit here if they were friends. As cool as Carson seems to be, that would be too much to bear after tonight’s fiasco. “Oh, God, no. You’re much better off. He’s not worth knowing, trust me.” I glance back at the house. “He’s kind of the reason I’m out here.”

  “What happened?” His voice is soft over the lapping of the waves and I take a deep breath.

  “I walked in on him fucking another girl,” I blurt in a shrill voice before I can change my mind. I turn my head to him and his mouth is hanging open, probably from my bluntness. It makes me laugh. “Truth?”

  “Always. No reason to ever lie.”

  “I never really liked him all that much, but it was nice to have someone. I have my best friend Bridget, but with my mom . . .” I trail off.

  “I understand. My parents aren’t the best, either.” His gaze finds mine. “Okay, enough of this serious shit.”

  I nod, and then point a hand up to another cluster of stars.

  “What’s that one over there?”

  Hours must pass, but it doesn’t feel like it. We talk about everything and nothing. He shares the mythology stories that correspond with each constellation, and I marvel at how knowledgeable he is. It’s comfortable with him and even though we don’t know each other, when I talked about my mother . . . it was as if he understood me. A yawn escapes and with that he jumps to his feet.

  “You’re falling asleep listening to my stories. Come on, let’s do something fun.”

  “Like what?”

  He looks back at the house and then toward the ocean. His lips turn up and form a smile. “We could go b
ack into the party?”

  The idea of seeing Matt has my blood running cold.

  “Yeah, that’s not an option,” I say, and he expels a giant puff of air he must have been holding in.

  “Oh, thank God. I don’t know what I would have done if you said yes to that.”

  “Nothing to fear there. What are the other options?”

  He lifts his eyebrow, and I playfully feign shock. “What? I was just going to say I could bore you with more of my fears.”

  We both stare at the beach in front of us. All of a sudden, he turns to face me. Excitement shines in his eyes. “Let’s go for a swim.” He reaches a hand out to grab mine.

  I stare at his large palm, then the vast ocean, and then back at him. “Now? But we can’t see. Won’t that be dangerous?”

  “The moon is bright enough. We won’t go in too deep. Come on, it’ll be fun.” The corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiles at me. “A lot more fun than that party. Plus, this is my last weekend before I have to become an adult with responsibilities. Have a little fun with me. Live a little, Lynn.”

  I turn my head to gaze into the Atlantic. As the moon gleams across the water, I realize he’s right. It’s definitely bright enough to swim, and seeing as this night has already gone off plan, I should have as much fun as possible rather than dwell on some douche who can’t keep his dick in his pants.

  “I don’t have a bathing suit on.” A dimple forms in his right cheek.

  “Dream on.” I laugh.

  “Go in your clothes. It’s so damn hot, they’ll dry within minutes.”

  “Okay,” I say, but then I look down at my outfit and shake my head no. “But not this skirt.” It’s my favorite, and the short strands of layered chiffon would never hold up against the salty water. Running my hands down my torso, I unzip my skirt. The material hits the sand, and although I know that amidst the crashing of the waves nothing can be heard, it echoes in my mind. Nervous tension courses through me and then fills the space between us. With timid steps, I walk ankle deep into the water. It’s the perfect temperature.

  I watch as he dives under and emerges a few seconds later. “It’s fucking amazing. Just jump in.”

  I walk in deeper and finally immerse myself. It really is amazing.

  “Isn’t it perfect?”

  I smile. It really is perfect and having him with me even more so.

  “You’re really beautiful when you smile.” His words pull me from my daze. I must look like a lunatic smiling so wide. My heart hammers in my chest. I shake my head and pick my brain for a snarky response.

  “Does that mean I’m not beautiful when I don’t?”

  “You know what I meant.”

  “Do I?” I tease, and he moves toward me.

  “Stop being a smart-ass or I’ll dunk you.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.” I try to move away but Carson’s arms wrap around my middle. His fingers splay against my ribs, and the feel of his skin on mine drives me crazy. It makes me crave every inch of his skin against mine.

  Our eyes lock, and as Carson’s grip around me tightens, I brace myself to go into the cold water. On instinct, my eyes close and I wait to be submerged. When nothing happens, I reopen them and am met with his gaze still fixed on me. A wave of feelings pushes through me.

  I’m trapped between opposing thoughts.

  Need and hesitation.

  I should probably put space between us, but after Matt’s betrayal, the idea of being wanted, of letting go and just doing something crazy with a stranger, is all encompassing. I can no longer think straight. Carson’s expression grows serious and everything—all the thoughts inside me—melt away as his fingers touch my jaw. With all my inhibitions now gone, my lids flutter closed as he strokes my skin.

  Our faces are inches apart. We’re so close I feel his breath tickling my lips on each exhale. The feeling flowing through me is monumental. I feel paralyzed by it.

  Unable to move.

  Unable to even breathe.

  My desire for this stranger is painful. Opening my eyes, I peer into his. His pupils are large and edged with desire, and his gaze is intense as I wait for one of us to make a move. For one of us to throw caution to the wind and seal our fate. The urge to be kissed takes over every facet of my mind.

  Dropping my gaze, I take in his deliciously full lips. I need to kiss him. Need to feel his mouth on mine. Need to get lost in him.

  “God, you’re beautiful.” His voice breaks with huskiness.

  A ragged breath escapes my trembling lips as his thumbs tip my head back and he descends. His lips brush mine, soft and pliable. They coax my own open, and as his tongue sweeps against me, I am lost to this man.

  Completely and utterly lost.

  I have no choice but to surrender to him.

  His large hand cups my face as he deepens the kiss. The soft caress of his mouth becomes firmer. The kiss is no longer sweet—it’s fast and rough. A kiss demanding we’re both equal partners in this.

  Matt always complained that I never initiated sex, and that when we had sex I wasn’t into it. I never understood what he meant, but now, kissing Carson, I get it. This is what a kiss should be like.

  Hungry.

  Desperate.

  Primal.

  Carson pulls me roughly to his body, almost violently, and I melt against him. “Need you,” he growls.

  I know what he needs and I need it, too, the way I need oxygen to live. I need his hands to touch me, his mouth to kiss me, and most of all, I need to feel him inside me.

  “Yes,” I plead. He answers by sweeping me weightlessly into his arms and bringing us out of the ocean and onto the beach. Lowering me to the sand, he rolls his body over mine. The feel of him on me is like a blanket of comfort that I have always sought. It’s perfect.

  He buries his nose in my neck, and then his lips drop delicate kisses down a path to my collarbone. When they reach the strap of my camisole, he drops the flimsy material covering me.

  Exposing me.

  Strong hands cup my breasts, as warm lips trail down until they reach the hollow of my chest. His mouth takes possession of me, finding each peak and licking and sucking until my body quivers with need. His mouth meets mine again, and our tongues collide at a faster clip.

  Carson hooks one finger into my wet panties, and pulls them down my thighs. Once completely stripped, I lie naked on the blanket instead of sand. His eyes roam my body as he leans over me like a predator stalking his prey. Parting my legs, he angles his body between them and kisses all the way up until he meets the inside of my thighs. Slowly, he makes his way up to the bundle of nerves inside me and I jerk away, closing my thighs as embarrassment fills me, but he tightens his grip around me.

  “No, I need to taste you.”

  He licks up my seam, and I’m surprised when a moan escapes. All thoughts of halting this delicious torture fade with each swipe of his tongue. The back and forth motion is almost my undoing. I hang on by a thread until he begins to flick and then suck in a maddening pace that has me gripping the blanket and falling over the edge. With one last kiss, Carson climbs up my body until his hard length concealed by wet boxer teases at my entrance.

  “Are you sure?” he mumbles against my neck.

  Am I? I might never see him again, but at this moment, it doesn’t matter. I have never wanted something or someone so much.

  “Yes,” I pant.

  “Thank God,” he moans as he reaches across the blanket and into his shorts pocket, grabbing a condom. Pulling off his wet boxers, he rolls the condom on himself and positions his body once again, the tip of him teasing my opening. When I think I can’t take much more of this torture, he pushes inside my slick heat. The feel of him sinking inside me elicits a moan of pleasure, but Carson silences me with his mouth as he pulls out and then thrusts back in. My thighs clamp around his lean waist, and my back arches up to meet each of his strokes. He lifts my knee to his shoulder for deeper penetration, and the new angle makes me succumb to
the blinding euphoria that’s been building inside me. As I ride my high, I feel him push forward a few more times until his body jerks within me, following me over into the bliss.

  The fragrance of salt wafting in the air brings me out of my post orgasmic haze. Opening my eyes, I see Carson smiling down at me.

  “That was incredible. You’re incredible.”

  My face warms at his words, and I’m thankful that in the dark of the night he can’t see the blush that must be spreading against my cheeks. He lifts off me and flops down beside me on the blanket. His chest rises and falls as I regulate my own breathing.

  “You really are.” Carson’s voice sounds lazy. Stealing a glance, I notice his lids are shut. The even rhythm of his breathing indicates that he’s fallen asleep. I quietly slip my clothes back on.

  Now what?

  When he wakes, will he politely tell me he has to go? Will he ask for my number? Oh, God, what if he doesn’t? What if he never wants to see me again? What if I’m just another slut who slept with him on the first night? I feel sick at the thought. I need to leave before he awakens.

  I pick up my bag and grab my phone. 4:25 a.m. Fuck. There are a couple of missed texts from Bridget.

  Bridget: Where you at?

  Bridget: Everyone at the party is talking about what Matt did! What a dick. U okay?

  My stomach drops. Knowing I’m the big gossip of the night has me mentally refusing to go back in to search for Bridget. Since this message was only sent an hour ago, I decide to answer and make sure she’s still around before I go. I can’t leave without her.

  Me: Fine, but I need to get out of here. You ready?

  Bridget: Sure thing. Meet me by the car.

  I look down at Carson one last time. I contemplate leaving a note but shake the idea out of my mind. It’s better to just cut my losses. This is for the best. One night, no strings attached. I just ended one crap relationship, no way am I jumping into something else. Why would I bother? As amazing as Carson seems, I’m sure he would disappoint me. Leave me. Eventually, everyone does.

  I see Bridget standing by my mom’s car in the driveway. “You cool to drive?” she hollers.