Sweet Caroline

by Micqui Miller

  "Mick," she stopped when she sensed his presence nearing her.

  "Shh," she heard him say, and drew a sharp breath at the unmistakable touch of his tongue licking the chocolate that remained on her lips.

  "Umm," she managed, more a breath than a word. "I thought we had all night."

  Her words were lost in his kisses, soft and feathery, like the touch of a kitten's whiskers—along her cheeks, her forehead, over her eyelids and back again until his lips were fully on hers, soft at first, undemanding.

  "Wait." She splayed her fingers against his chest. Mick groaned. "Um?"

  "I want to be with you tonight, Mick—you know how much. But I want you to be honest with me first. You say you have feelings for me."

  She saw by the crease in his brow that he likely regretted the words almost as quickly as they'd slipped out. Not opening his eyes, he murmured, "I do."

  "That's not enough of an answer. You said we're adults. Adults put feelings into words, good or bad." He sighed, and straightened into a sitting position.

  "Caroline, why are we doin' this now? Can't we just let..." 274

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  No, she wouldn't be put off. "All right, I'll go first." She stood, dodging away from him as he tried to snatch her wrist to pull her back beside him.

  With a sip of champagne for courage, she forged ahead.

  "I'm falling in love with you, Mick." She had his full attention now, and a scowl shadowed his face. "I'm not asking for promises or commitment," she continued. "Just please don't break my heart."

  Mick shot to his feet, and roughly pulled Caroline into his arms. He drove his mouth against hers, in the deepest, most honest kiss he'd ever given a woman in his life. Caroline melted into him, clinging to him as if he were a safe haven in a storm. He didn't realize she was crying until he tasted her tears.

  "Caroline, sweetheart, I'd never hurt you, never." He buried his face in her hair. "You're my heart, but don't ask me for something I can't give. Let's cherish this moment and let that be enough for now."

  It wasn't enough for Caroline, but it was the most she could hope for. He'd said "for now," and heaven help her, she'd hang in there until it wasn't enough for him, either. She threaded her fingers through the curly soft hair of his temple, pulled him forward and nipped at his bottom lip until his mouth yielded to the tantalizing tip of her tongue. In seconds, Mick's resolve gave way to the passion he was trying so hard to keep in hand. He returned her kiss, plunging further while his fingers found their way to the first ribbon tie of the caftan. At the touch of warm skin against his fingertips, he went instantly erect.

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  Somewhere at the back of her mind, Caroline heard a tiny voice whisper, There's still time to stop, Caroline. Don't let him break your heart.

  Mick's mouth was demanding, his kiss urgent, preemptory. In seconds, Caroline abandoned any thought of safe haven. His lips were hot, his tongue prying. The kiss; deep, probing, thorough. Awesome. Unrelenting.

  She broke away, struggling to quell her excitement and to catch her breath.

  Undeterred, Mick switched places. A gentle dusting of kisses along her jaw line. A whispered breath across her ear, and a barely discernible suckle on a tiny earlobe. Goosebumps—loads of them. Caressing hands, inquisitive fingers. Warm touches against cool skin, silk against leather, the hitch of the metal of his belt buckle, a plastic button at the top his fly, the swatch of a silken thong. His fingertips danced along her spine, across her back, slid along the curve of her tight little behind. Nibbles on her neck, curly red tendrils freed from imprisoning barrettes. Shivers skittered across her skin. Breath coming hard. Hands flat against his chests, fingers splayed, grasping, releasing, a net of desire drawing closed, ensnaring her. She bit back an anxious giggle, nerves taut, anticipatory. A jolt of electricity. Hands urging aside the front panel of the caftan. How was it possible? When had Mick untied all of the tiny latches that held the lapels in place?

  Probably at the same time she'd fished inside his waistband and freed his shirttails. Probably at the same time she'd opened his shirt front and padded a trail with her 276

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  fingertips through the wiry red curls that dusted the muscles of his chest and tummy.

  Probably about the same time she felt the hardness of his erection telling her just how glad he was that she was there. Rising on tiptoes, she molded herself against him, undulating only enough to rub the head against the softness between her thighs.

  From somewhere the other side of breathless, Mick murmured "Caroline, oh, my sweet, sweet Caroline." Before she had a chance even to think what was happening, he swept her up in his arms and carried her toward the bedroom. The room was spinning around Caroline. With it came the realization that the girl who'd stood a head taller than all of her classmates from the first day of pre-school, who'd fetched toys from the highest shelves while the petite little princesses stared up at her giggling, who'd eaten her heart out because the star quarterback in high school preferred the wispy little gnome who somersaulted off the top of the cheer squad's pyramid—for all the years, and for all the jeers, Caroline suddenly knew this moment was for her.

  She draped her arms around Mick's shoulders and nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck. Wafting four feet above the ground, secure in the arms of a man who actually stood head and shoulders over her, Caroline knew with certainty that she loved him like she'd never loved another man again. This was better than slipping her feet into glass slippers. Someday was here, her prince had come.

  * * * *

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  MICK HUMMED WHILE he waltzed her into his room, a room he'd spent an hour preparing with candles with just the right scent, dozens of roses to compliment their fragrance, and shiny satin sheets that must have looked like an ocean of white to Caroline from her perch high above. She was almost as tall as he yet she felt delicate in his arms, almost tiny, as if she were no bigger than a minute. And God, how right she felt.

  He lowered her to the floor, making sure that every inch of her brushed languorously against every inch of him on the way down. He wanted to gather her against him, hold her with such might it would take her breath away, but he dared not. There was something so open, so trusting and still so vulnerable about the way she looked at him, he knew he'd rather lose an arm than ever hurt her.

  Rational thought gave way to urgency. The last of the ties of the caftan fell open. He was urging her backward while she fumbled with the button on his slacks.

  A second later, his finger slipped inside the thong.

  "Mick!" she gasped.

  "Ummm?"

  His thumb brushed against her silken lips. "Oh, Mick!"

  "Oh what?"

  "Oh, more."

  "We have ... all night."

  Her mind was turning to mush on the scent of roses and candles, and the kind of raw lust that she'd only dreamed of ever knowing. Whatever he was saying, she didn't care. She wanted him—inside her. All of him. Now!

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  "Not yet," he whispered and cradled her face, forcing her to look at him.

  They both knew he was right. "We have all night." Her fingers, with a mind of their own, were pulling on the sleeves of his shirt. It dropped to the floor behind him at their feet while she unzipped his fly. Was it her imagination? Or was the man buck naked inside his slacks? With one swift push, she sent his trousers falling to his knees. His arms tightened around her. She watched the control he held so well weaken.

  "Lie back," he said, and she did, dragging him along with her. She found his mouth and kissed him hungrily, but his hands had found her breasts, and from that moment on, Caroline Spring quit talking ... thinking ... wishing ... hoping. As sure as the sun rose in the east, Caroli
ne Spring had met the man she was made for, who'd give her the night of her dreams.

  To Mick's delight, Caroline's breasts were small and firm yet soft to the touch. A rounded tiny pear that fit perfectly between his lips. He swept his tongue across the pink nipple, which blossomed immediately. He knew it would, expected it to, still a new wave of excitement coursed through him and Caroline as well. Beneath him, her heart pounded as she arched up ever so slightly to meet his mouth.

  "Beautiful, beautiful," he said more a breath than a whisper, at the sight of those lovely mounds. Each was just enough to fit his palm. He pressed them together, until they stood as one, then licked and suckled, favoring each in turn. 279

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  Mick kneaded and teased, mostly gentle, sometimes urgent, sucking, tasting, nipping as the smooth warm flesh grew harder and seemed to swell beneath his lips. A quite moan slipped past Caroline's. She quivered. He felt her excitement building, and when she cried out, "Touch me!" he knew exactly what she wanted.

  Mick abandoned her breasts in favor of tracing the length of her with his tongue and lost himself in the smooth, flawless skin. He planned to pleasure her in a way he knew instinctively she'd never been pleasured before. With his tongue, he traced the route of his fingertips, separating her nether lips and licking and teasing the very essence of her. She writhed beneath him, grabbing blindly and wildly at his shoulders, his hair, at anything to hold onto, until tremors wracked her body and she gave into pure feral bliss. He didn't stop until she shuddered one last time and sighed contentedly. He kept his hand on her, protecting her warmth while her breathing returned to normal. When she tried to coax his hand away, he remained immovable.

  "Please, it's my turn to..."

  He smiled. "Are you kidding? I haven't even begun."

  "No, no." She resisted, until he massaged her hardened nub. She moved with him now, lifting her hips, breathing and moaning exactly the way he'd hoped she would. She gasped when he slipped a finger inside her.

  "Relax for me, darlin'. Don't think, go with it."

  "I'm ... I'm..."

  "Shh." He kissed her full on the mouth, erasing her resistance and letting her taste her own desire from his lips to 280

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  hers. "Relax, sweetheart. Let me love you the way we both want it."

  And he did. He brought her to electrifying peaks a half dozen times, each greater than the last until he knew he couldn't hold on much longer himself.

  "Ah, sweet Caroline, now it's my turn." He shivered. They traded places as naturally as if they'd been making love to each other all their lives, pausing only long enough for him to rip open a foil packet. His hands trembled so, he turned all thumbs. "Bloody hell!" Caroline groaned and wrested the packet from him.

  "Bloody hell is right!" She managed to accomplish what he could not.

  Then to both their need and delight, he guided her to a meeting point. Ever so slowly, he lowered her onto him until she had taken him completely inside her, a perfect fit. Swaying to their rhythm, she leaned forward so that her breasts tantalized his lips. He raised his head and took one in his mouth, darting his tongue against her taut nipple in time to the motion of their bodies.

  They moved as one, knowing instinctively when it was time to slow or when to move faster. The glow of the candles flickered about them, the scent of roses mingled with the scent of lovemaking—musky, male, and yet somehow so sweet. It was a perfect rainbow of pleasure, vibrant colors against a cerulean sky, soft pillows of white floating lazily across a far horizon, two hearts pounding against each other in sync with their dance.

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  "Sweet mother, you're so tight," he groaned, lost in the pleasure of her.

  "Sweet mother, you're so ... big." Mick never felt so hard, Caroline never felt so full—or so good, or so ... loved.

  Somewhere along the way, they'd switched positions again, and now Caroline wantonly arched her back, wrapped her legs around his waist and closed her eyes. With every thrust, he drove deeper, the tempo building, the pressure growing to an urgency she had never experienced before, and didn't fully understand.

  Their movements quickened along with their breathing, until he had time left only to say, "Oh, Caroline," before he exploded inside her.

  Seconds later, she cried out, "Oh, Mick," and joined him in bliss.

  * * * *

  MICK KEPT HIS promise, and much to his surprise and delight, Caroline willingly returned all of his favors. She was shy at first, unaware of the depth of her own passion and sexuality. They uncovered it together, and with each new discovery, the purring kitten turned into a tigress. At some point during the night, they'd ended up in her apartment, where she drew happy faces and shamrocks all over him with lime-flavored body paints—then licked them off. After that, they found new uses for coconut and chocolate sauce, warm peach halves, and chilled Jell-O. By two, they'd used the last of the condoms and their bodies were crying 282

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  Uncle! Murmuring something about a willing spirit and weak flesh, they drifted off to sleep arms and legs entangled.

  * * * *

  SUNLIGHT STREAMED THROUGH the window, the rays shining across Caroline's face when she awakened to a tap on her wrist. "Hmm?" she said without opening her eyes but grinning as memories of last night tumbled around inside her. She raised a lid, expecting to see that magnificent naked body she'd come to know with all five senses. Instead, she saw Mick already dressed, in a coat and tie.

  "Get up, sleepin' beauty. Thirty minutes 'til we leave." Caroline pulled the sheet up to her chin, feeling exposed compared to his business attire. "Thirty minutes to what? It's Sunday morning. Or did we play right through Sunday and never knew it?"

  "You wish." He sat on the edge of the bed and tousled her hair before dropping a kiss on the tip of her nose. "Mum called awhile ago. She thinks the photo in your postcard was taken in the woods behind Holy Trinity Academy. Annie's giving the homily at the 10:15 a.m. Mass. Mum wants us to join her for brunch and bring Annie with us." Caroline looked at the clock. A quarter to nine. "We're going to church? With Annie?" She pulled the sheet higher.

  "After what we did all night?"

  "Especially after what we did all night." He grinned broadly. "To thank the Lord for not strikin' us dead half way through."

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  "Don't make jokes about religion," she scolded. "In some circles what we did all night is considered a bit on the sinful side."

  "I prefer the circles that believe nothing is wrong if two people—" He stopped short, eyes wide, face paling as if he'd suddenly realized what he'd almost said.

  Caroline sucked in a sharp breath. Had he almost said what she thought he did? "If two people what, Mick?" He stood quickly, threw back the bedding and pulled her up and out of bed. "If two people are adults. Now move it." He patted her on the rump to urge her along. "We can't be late."

  * * * *

  THEY ARRIVED TWENTY minutes early and used the time to walk through the woods on a perfect September morning. They saw squirrels scurrying through the fallen leaves and heard birds chirping in the branches of aging pines and majestic redwoods. A stream ran alongside the footpath, its babble adding to Nature's conversation. Everything smelled twice as fresh to Caroline. A night of incredible lovemaking had heightened her senses, though she still felt a pleasant ache in the oddest parts of her body.

  "Looks like Sheila guessed wrong," Mick said. They'd doubled back twice and headed for the small chapel between the convent and the boarding school's dormitories.

  "Is that the key, Mick? If we figure out where the photo was taken we'll know who took it?"

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  "I'm more curious about why.
Likely we'll have to delve into that face to face."

  "That reminds me." Anxiety stirred in the pit of her stomach. "There's a couple of other things you need to know." Like why I'm really here, and what I've uncovered for Ian.

  Mick smacked the heel of his palm against his forehead.

  "Sweet mother, Caroline, you're not going to tell me you've a husband and six kids waitin' for you in Dallas?" She balled her fist and punched him in the arm. "No, silly, seven and I'm gay."

  "Oh, I know that last part's not true." He circled her waist and lifted her until they were nose to nose. Then he kissed her soundly. "See, told you so. Now come on, those are the final bells before Mass starts."

  The chapel at Holy Trinity was small, seating no more than thirty or forty. Mick and Caroline slid into the back row, praying along with the faithful until Sr. Anne took her place at the lectern to deliver the homily. She looked straight at Caroline and Mick and her gaze never wavered. She spoke of love and commitment, of family and friends, loyalty to God and weaving integrity into everyday living. In a strong voice, delicately flavored with an Irish brogue, she spoke without notes, never hesitating to find the right words, yet their simple honesty brought tears to Caroline's eyes. Mick took her hand almost from the start. She knew by the pressure he exerted that Annie's words had touched him, too. Caroline found herself praying with hope and belief for the first time since her mother's death, not with anger and 285

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  anguish. With Mick standing beside her, she found a sense of peace she had not known since childhood.

  After Mass, they waited in the parking lot for Sr. Anne to join them.

  "That was quite a miracle we experienced, now wasn't it, Mick?" Annie asked while he hugged her. "I'm talkin' and fearin' that any minute the roof's going to fall or the pillars collapse from your bein' there after all these years." He laughed as he kissed her on the cheek. "There are no pillars inside, Annie. You'd be surprised to know Sheila drags me in several times a year." He placed his arm around Caroline's shoulder. "You remember Caroline, from the weddin'?"

  "Of course, I do." She extended her hand. "How could I forget such a lovely lass, especially on the arm of my favorite heathen?"