Kestrel

by A. M. Hargrove

  “So have I. That’s why I would never do it to someone else.”

  Her lips move, as if she’s going to say something, but then she doesn’t. The elevator dings, and the doors open.

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?” I ask.

  Her brow furrows.

  “Your backpack?”

  “Oh, damn.” She runs down the hall, back to the lab. I wait for her at the elevator.

  On the way down, I say, “Why don’t you follow me to my place and we can go out from there?”

  “Fine.”

  I gently elbow her in the ribs. “Are you going to be grumpy all night just because I kissed you? Or do I have to kiss you again to prove to you I think you really are sexy? Because I’m up for that if you want.”

  Her mouth drops open.

  “I see how it is then.”

  I grab her and kiss her again. This time, I slide my hands down to palm her ass. She sucks her breath in when I do, and I go in for the kill. By the time I’m done, her arms are wrapped around my neck and I’m chuckling.

  “Yep, not only are you sexy, you’re hot as hell.”

  When the doors slide open, we move apart and I throw my arm around her shoulders as we walk. I’m pretty damn sure she doesn’t know what to make of me. And right now, I’m not sure what to make of me, either.

  “Who knew I’d have a thing for a doctor who wears glasses?” I ask as I pinch her ass. The look of shock on her face is priceless.

  When we get to the parking garage, I tell her to meet me at my place. I pull into my driveway to see she’s already there, waiting.

  “So, did you want to change, because I’m going to,” I say.

  “No, I’m good.” She’s already wearing jeans.

  “Great. Come on in.”

  She follows me and I ask, “Where would you like to go?”

  She mentions a couple of places, both seafood. We make our decision and it’s a place out on John’s Island. I quickly change into jeans and a sweater. I grab two leather jackets.

  “You want to drive or you want me to?” she asks.

  “I’ll drive,” I say as I hand her a helmet and a leather jacket.

  “What’s this?”

  “You can’t ride without either. One is obviously for your head and the other is so you won’t be cold.”

  She’s puzzled as we walk outside, until we go around the side of the carriage house and she sees the Harley.

  “Oh my.”

  “You okay with this?”

  “I guess so. I’ve never been on a motorcycle.”

  “Good. You’ll like it.”

  “I’ll have to take your word for it since I’ve never been much of a daredevil.”

  I climb on and tell her to do likewise. “Hold onto me, and don’t fight the turns.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Checking to make sure her feet are properly placed, I turn my head and say, “Scoot closer to me and follow my body as we ride.”

  Her arms tentatively hold me. That needs to change so I take them and wrap them tightly around me. Then I say, “Can you hear me?” The helmets are equipped with earpieces and microphones so we can communicate and I need to make sure they are in working order.

  “Yeah. This is cool.”

  “The bike is pretty noisy. We won’t have to shout with the helmets on. Ready?”

  “Yep.”

  I start her up and off we go. Once we clear the city, I open her up and we fly like the wind. Riding the Harley is so liberating. The constraints of my life and job melt away like the dingy old snow at the end of winter. Every time I ride I feel a renewed sense of energy flow into my blood, energizing me. Carter’s hands spread out against my abs and I can hear her breathing.

  “All okay back there?” I ask.

  “Yeah.” Her voice is husky, sexy sounding. I feel myself respond.

  What is happening to me? Why is this girl affecting me so much? I’m at a loss for an explanation.

  “Kestrel?”

  “Yes?”

  “This is fantastic.”

  Her body is completely pressed to mine and I want it to stay there. I’ve never ridden with another woman, other than my sister-in-law, and I never imagined it could be this erotic. When we get to the restaurant, I pull in the lot, and find a place to park in the back corner, where it’s dark and deserted. I waste no time in dismounting the bike and ridding myself of the helmet.

  My hands lift her off and remove her helmet, and my lips are on hers before I can stop myself. Her hair spills out of the bun it was in and I twist one hand in it as I intensify the kiss. She moans when I do, and the urge to feel her skin pushes me past my boundaries. My free hand slides under the jacket and finds the waist of her jeans. Her skin is cool from the night air and my hand slips beneath her jeans. Touching her ass is almost more than I can take. That is until her teeth sink into my lower lip and she pulls me closer.

  My harsh breathing forces me to stop the kiss and when I do, I look at her face as the moonlight washes over it. Her eyes are shadowed but not her lips. They’re parted as she runs her tongue across the lower one.

  “Don’t stop. Not now, Kestrel.”

  “Jesus Christ, Carter. I’m undone here.”

  But that is before. Before her hand unbuttons and unzips my pants. And her cool fingers slip inside and take a hold of my dick.

  “Oh fuck. Not here, Carter. If we’re going to do this, it’s going to be right. And not in some parking lot of a restaurant.”

  “But …”

  “Put it on.”

  I hand her the helmet and we get back on the road. It takes hours, or at least it seems like hours, to get back to my place. And when we do, I tear her off the bike and carry her in the house. Helmet and jacket disappear like they never existed. And then we’re kissing like two crazed teenagers.

  In the middle of it, I ask, “You’re sure about this?”

  “Look at me. Do you think this is the picture of a hesitant woman?”

  She’s right. She’s every bit as eager as I am. She lifts her shirt over her head and undoes her bra. Carter is slightly built for a tall woman. Long and lean, she’s very delicate looking. And timid.

  “I’m not exactly—well I’m pretty inexperienced here.”

  “Your inexperience blows me away.”

  I peel my shirt off, then the rest of my clothes follow. She watches me demurely. Her fingers fumble with the button on her jeans but I brush them aside as I finish the task. When she steps out of the obstructing garment, I am in awe of her. In clothing, she’s a frump. Naked, she’s a goddess. My mouth is cotton, devoid of all moisture. Every coherent thought has fled, and I am left with nothing but a vision of true beauty as she stands before me. But what I realize is I am undeserving of her. She’s sweet innocence and she has been dealt the cruelest hand of all—the death of her child. The loss of a love I cannot comprehend. This lovely creature that stands before me, who has bared her innermost secrets, is now willing to share her body to me.

  “Kestrel?” Her voice has an element of uncertainty in it.

  “My God, you’re beautiful.” Before my mind can take a turn down the dark path that it so often does, her body plows into mine, mouth against mouth, chest against chest. She clings to me and I find that I couldn’t let her go for anything in the world. In this moment, everything is wiped clean. It’s only the two of us alone in the world.

  What’s happening to me? I’ve asked myself this a dozen or more times and can’t seem to find the answer. Carter impacts me in a way I’ve never been before. Is it sympathy? Empathy? Or Both? I don’t have the answer. But my heart responds to her not only physically, but emotionally. And it scares the hell out of me. Because I’m every bit as fucked up as she is.

  In this moment, I shed those thoughts and focus on the here and now. And what she’s doing to me. Her lips are on my neck, and she’s sucking and licking me. For someone who’s inexperienced, she has set me on fire. And then I feel her warm
breath against my skin as she murmurs, “Tell me what to do. What can I do to please you?”

  “Jesus, what the hell do you think you’re doing now? Look at me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, step away, and look at me.”

  Her brows are furrowed but she does as I say. Only she focuses on my face. I gesture with my head, indicating for her to look down. When she does, she gets the picture.

  “Now do you understand? I am very pleased.”

  “I, uh,” she swallows, then continues, “yeah.”

  “Touch me. Down there. Like you did in the parking lot.”

  Our eyes are locked, but then she looks down and her hand reaches out. My cock jerks in response.

  “Harder.”

  “Like this?”

  “Yeah.” I practically growl at her.

  “Do you want me to suck it?”

  There’s nothing I’d like more, but if I let her do it, I’d come in half a second. She’d think I was a fucking teenage boy who hadn’t had sex in a while. She’d be half right anyway.

  “Not yet. But I want to suck you.” That brings her hand to a dead stop.

  “You want to …”

  “Yeah.” And I kiss her opened mouth. Savagely. Because I can’t help myself. She does that to me. She’s innocence and willingness wrapped up in one nice, hot package. And I’m going to make her come like she’s never come before. While we kiss, I walk us into the bedroom. When the backs of her legs hit the bed, we tumble onto it.

  “Carter, I’m going to tell you this because I mean it and because it’s true. You are absolutely gorgeous and extremely sexy.” Then I lift her legs and spread them wide. “Now I want to taste you, suck you, eat you until you scream.” My tongue makes one long swipe on one inner thigh and I first bite, then suck. Then I move to the other and repeat. I hear her suck in her breath. Score. Then I lick everything but what she thinks I’m going to, until she’s squirming so much, I have to grip her hips to keep her in place. Now I target her sex and my tongue tunnels into her before it begins its long slow torture. I lick, tease, suck, and nibble before moving to her clit. By then, she’s biting the first joint of her index finger. Once there, I suck on that tiny bud until I bring her to an orgasm that leaves her fingers clenching the sheets and her mouth calling out my name. But I don’t stop playing with her. My fingers slowly, inexorably move in and out of her.

  “You have the sweetest, softest pussy. And look how wet you are. You’re so ready for me. Tell me what you want.”

  She still breathing a bit hard when she says, “Don’t call it a pussy.”

  My fingers are touching said anatomy. I want to laugh, but I don’t. I can’t keep the smirk off my face when I ask, “And why not?”

  “Because a pussy is a cat.”

  “Then what shall I call it?”

  “A vagina.”

  Now I really want to laugh. Hard. “Don’t you think that’s a bit clinical?” In a falsetto voice I say, “Oh, Carter, you have the sweetest vagina.”

  That gets a giggle out of her.

  “And I suppose you want to tell me you enjoy my penis.”

  “Well, I can hardly say, since I’ve yet to experience it.”

  “Then, sweetheart, I think we should let your pussy meet my dick. What do you think about that?”

  “Okay, under one condition.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Never ever call me a pet name.”

  This strikes me as odd and I laugh. “Why’s that?”

  “I read a book once where the guy called the girl a pigeon. I don’t want to be called a nasty assed bird. Or some other stupid name.”

  I howl. She looks at me quizzically.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “My brother calls his wife ‘kea’.”

  “So?”

  “A kea is a bird.”

  “Oh. Sorry.” She wears a contrite expression.

  “And did you know that a kestrel is actually a bird?”

  “Oops.” Her sheepish look intensifies and her face becomes mottled with red.

  “Yeah, it’s a small falcon to be precise. But hey, it’s okay. It’s not like you intentionally insulted me. But why the aversion to pet names?” I run my finger down her cheek.

  “I think they’re demeaning. Like honey, sugar, kitten. I don’t meow, and sugar! I mean, come on! If you’re going to give me pet name, it better be a damn good one is all I’ve gotta say.”

  “All righty then. No pet names for Carter. Anything else?”

  “Nope. That’s it. What about you?”

  “I’ll have to tell you when the time comes. My list is too fucking long.”

  “Can you tell me about your tattoos?”

  “Yeah. Someday. Not today though.” I move over her and murmur against her mouth. “Right now, I want to bury myself in you and make you scream. Tell me how you like it.”

  Her face suddenly flushes scarlet. I wipe my finger across her cheek again. Then I kiss it. Her inexperience is very endearing to me. Afterwards, I move to her neck, then her shoulder. I want to assuage the awkwardness.

  “Kestrel, I don’t really know.”

  “Hmm. I have an idea.”

  “What?”

  “How about we find out?”

  She chuckles. “How do you propose to do that?”

  “We’ll test out a few positions and you tell me which ones you like the best?”

  As I speak, my fingers slide out of her and play with her clit again. She emits a little mewling sound. “Is this the plan then?” she asks, in a breathy voice.

  “Mmm.”

  I reach into my nightstand and pull out a condom. She watches me with curious eyes as I put it on.

  We’re on our sides, so I pull her leg over my hip and stroke her entrance with my tip. Then I slowly rock into her, little by little. The creases in her brow deepen as I move, and I ask, “Is this okay?”

  She’s silent. Too silent, so I stop.

  “Carter?”

  “It’s been quite a while for me.”

  “That doesn’t mean it’s supposed to hurt.”

  I pull out and roll her on her back. Moving between her legs, I enter her again. This time, she grabs my ass and pushes me while she thrusts her hips up until I’m fully seated.

  “Why’d you do that?”

  “It’s best to just get it over with.”

  When I move to pull out, she stops me.

  “Now, Kestrel. Make love to me.”

  Her eyes plead with mine. Moving slowly at first, I do as she asks. But soon I’m caught up in the rhythm and things escalate. I lose myself in her and much too soon I’m climaxing.

  “Was it okay?” she asks, tentatively.

  I look at her in confusion. And then it hits me. I rub my face and get up. Once the condom is disposed of, I get back into bed and pull her into my arms.

  “Carter, we need to get something clear. This wasn’t about getting me off. This was supposed to be about mutual pleasure.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The sex. Did I hurt you?” It troubles me deeply to think that I did.

  “Not really.”

  “Not really isn’t good enough. Jesus. Carter, I was going to take it slow. So you could enjoy it, too. That’s what sex is supposed to be all about. Not just me getting off. I’m sorry I got carried away and let it go too far. It’s been a while for me, too.”

  She visually examines me.

  “I believe you.”

  I snort. “I would hope so. I’m not playing games with you. Making love, having sex, fucking, whatever you call it, is about mutual pleasure. Not you laying here, enduring an unpleasant experience.”

  “Oh, it wasn’t all unpleasant.”

  “Do me a favor.”

  “What?”

  “Let’s do this again. My way. So you can get off.”

  “Get off? During sex, you mean?”

  “Yes, goddammit.” I run my hand through my
hair.

  “Okay.”

  “Listen to me. I want to do this the right way.” I lean over her and lick her nipple until it hardens to a peak. Then I suck on it and tease it with my teeth. I check the other one and see it’s stiff as well. My fingers roll it and then I move to it for a little tongue teasing, too. My mouth hits various points on her body, ones I think will arouse her further. My teeth gently sink into her soft flesh and she moans, grabbing my hair. Her sweetness and heat nail me.

  “Oh, God, Kestrel. What are you doing?”

  “Showing you what mutual pleasure is all about.” Then I roll her over on her stomach and continue with my teasing, licking, and biting her. My mouth and hands cover every inch of her and by the time I get to her ass, she’s whining. When I release her, she turns on me like an untamed tigress. She mimics everything I did to her and has me tied up in knots in no time. She’s sweet and spicy all at once.

  When her warm, wet mouth slips over my cock, I really want to scream. But I don’t. Every muscle clenches with each tentative lick and swirl of her tongue, and I restrain myself until I finally tell her to stop.

  “Carter, I want your sweet mouth on me but what I truly want more than anything is to make love to you again … the right way this time.”

  “Where are your condoms?”

  “Top drawer. Nightstand.”

  She scrambles over to get one. “How do I do this?”

  “Take it out and roll it on.”

  She’s so tentative I grab her hand and say, “Just do it. I won’t break.”

  That gets a grin out of her. She grabs my cock and rolls the cover on it. Then she moves to lie down, but I stop her.

  “No. Ride me.”

  “What?”

  “Climb on top of me and ride me.”

  Her gaze drops to my erect cock and then to me.

  “You’ll love it. I promise.”

  She makes her move and I assist. When she starts to slide onto me, I say, “Slow this time,” I remind her.

  Once she’s fully seated, I hold out my hands and she uses them for leverage. It’s not long before she has the hang of it and I can see by her face that this is right. A woman’s body changes when she is aroused. The color of her nipples becomes rosier, her spine curves inward, her hips undulate, her breathing deepens, her scent changes, her pupils dilate, and don’t get me started on her sex. Carter has reached the maximum state of arousal. I move her hands to my hips and use my free ones to play with her. At first I brush and tug her rock-hard nipples. Then I move to her clit. She’s been rocking up and down on my cock and I’m about to come, so I want to speed things along for her. My thumb massages her tiny bud and that’s exactly what she needs. Her muscles begin to tighten and she throws her head back, giving me a view of her neck—the neck I want to lick and suck all day long. Her mouth opens and she calls out my name when her orgasm hits. I can feel all of her inner muscles tightening, then contracting around me, squeezing me, allowing me to release my control. When my orgasm hits, I let it go and she knows. She watches me come and then she collapses on top of me with a loud gasp.