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Steal Me (Longshadows Book 1)

Page 14

by Natalia Banks


  They shared a little chuckle. “Fair enough.” Carter took another sip, gazing out into some imagined distance as he gave it some thought. “I do it because it’s a chance to be true to my real self—something in me, in a lot of men, women too, something primal and natural and true, some part of me that’s real, untouched by the civility of modern life, the airs and motions of it all.”

  “Like you see in your family?”

  Carter nodded. “They have more to do with it than that. I can’t lie to you, Kat; it drives them crazy, what I do. And there’s something about that which brings me a reasonable measure of satisfaction.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “You have family?”

  “Mom, and then my sister and brother-in-law; they’re newly pregnant.”

  Carter raised his champagne flute in a toast. “Congratulations.”

  “No need to congratulate me; I didn’t do anything.” They laughed again, easy and natural, their company very free-flowing, positive energy surrounding them, drawing them together.

  They ate the sumptuous feast, conversation flowing easily and covering a variety of personal subjects. So Kat wasn’t surprised when the topic of their love lives came up. “So, other than your…um, profession or hobby or whatever, are there any…other women in your life?”

  Carter shook his head. “There have been a few, but…nobody special. Until now.” After a sultry silence, he asked, “And how is it that I’m lucky enough to find you unattached? Woman like you, thought you’d be married with kids by now.”

  “By now? I’m not even thirty. You’re a very old-fashioned sort of person, all things considered,” Kat said playfully.

  Carter chewed slowly, looking her dead in the eyes as he let her words sink in and carefully calculated his response. “I asked you a question.”

  There was that power, that determination that she just couldn’t seem to resist. “I had a guy recently,” she admitted. “Turned out to be married.”

  “But you didn’t know.” Carter raised an eyebrow.

  “Of course not! He was living kind of a double life. Had this big red cabin out on Lake Melody, pretended to be a recluse. Turns out he had a wife here in town.”

  Carter’s hovering somberness returned as he gazed out over the horizon. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. The way some people are, it’s…it’s beneath us all, don’t you think?”

  Kat didn’t have to give that try much thought. She raised her glass and smiled. “Yes, Carter, yes I do.”

  The view from the sixty-fifth floor of Rockefeller Plaza afforded an amazing view of the Empire State Building, lit up blue, a proud relic of a bygone era. And the music was a perfect match, a robust combination of hot swing and sweet, the jaunty rhythms of Duke Ellington and the timeless melodies of Frank Loesser.

  Carter led Kat out onto the dance floor, and she was quick to see that he was a master. He swung her around with grace and certainty, whirling her around him as he guided them across the floor. Light bounced off a ball hanging from the ceiling, the entire room cast in what felt like revolving starlight. She looked up into his eyes and he down at her, the connection between them undeniable. Kat felt like a princess in his arms, being led in glorious turns by no less than a prince—a man among men. For all his toughness, he was every bit as sophisticated and classy. She began to see signs of a more refined childhood, one of world travel and education. She already knew him to be a soul both deep and wide, beautiful in a world that could be harsh and ugly.

  But there was even more to Carter Fields than that. He saw through the mundane to the fantastic, the whimsical, just the same way Kat herself did, or used to be able to do. And in his company, she could see once again that, behind the veil of drudgery and boredom, challenge and trial, life could be a sparkling fantasy come to life. There was beauty in the world, both real and imagined, and one had no less value or lasting power than the other. She had always felt that way, but it took Carter to remind her, and she knew then that she’d never be able to forget it, or to forget him.

  The music crescendoed, the band holding the chords, horns letting their chord ring out before the next, languid ballad began, a familiar melody in waltz time that she could almost place. When Carter pulled her close, his eyes locked on hers, and began to sing the words in a delicate whisper, she knew where she’d heard them before. But she also knew that they’d never sound the same again.

  “Let me call you sweetheart,” he sang softly into her ear. “I’m in love with you. Let me hear you whisper that you love me too.” Kat swayed gently to the rhythm, looking up at Carter with tears gathering in the corners of her eyes.

  “Keep the love light glowing in your eyes so true, let me call you sweetheart; I’m in love with you.”

  The band swung hard into the refrain, Carter spinning Kat again, whisking her completely off her feet both figuratively and literally. His hands held her with gentle firmness, his legs moving with control and well-earned muscle memory. Kat wasn’t sure if it was the expensive food, the drinks, the music, or just the glamor of the moment, but she felt as if she was in a dream, floating on air, transported into another life, another world. But she knew even in the romantic fog of their musical courtship that it was more than all that; she knew what she was feeling, and when the verse came around again, she was happy to sing those lines with him—fresh in her memory, embedded in her soul.

  “Keep the love light glowing, in your eyes so truuuuuuuuuuueeeeee…” The band paused again, holding their chord, locking Kat and Carter in a moment all their own, one which would last a lifetime. The two stood as if the only people in the room, in the city, in the world. “Let me call you sweetheart,” they both sang as the band drove the song to its climax. “I’m in looooooooove wiiiiiiiith yoooooooouuuuuuuu.”

  Chapter 21

  Kat

  The hot shower water coursed over Kat’s body, counting every inch, tracing every curve and contour, rushing down her strong legs and round, ripe breasts. It wasn’t the first time, by any measure, but it was also unlike any other.

  This time Carter was in the shower with her.

  He’d already barged in and pushed her against that slick tile wall, misty and messy with her soaped-up hands. He’d already penetrated her wet pussy with his cock, sopping with water and soapy residue, sliding into her tight crotch with ease and superb sensitivity. He didn’t need to rush or be harsh, and that’s not what Kat wanted. He knew that, and she knew he did.

  He gurgled into her ear, “You love it, don’t you? You love my hot cock in you, so deep and hard inside you.” She moaned and nodded, but he insisted, “Tell me you love it!”

  “I love it,” she gleefully admitted, water spilling into and out of her mouth. “God I love it!”

  “I know you do, and you’re gonna love it a lot, my sweet little mermaid, my showering little slut!”

  “No…” Kat tried to say, “I’m not…I’m…I’m not…”

  “Yes you are, but just for me. You play the little pretty girl for everybody else, but I know you’re my sexy, secret little slut! You show me things nobody else sees and we both know that!” He kept pounding into her, the shower an undercurrent to their discourse. “Admit it!”

  “I do!” Water poured over her, baptizing her in the moment of her admission and of her greatest revelation. “Yes, I do!”

  “Tell me how much you love my cock in your pussy!”

  “I do,” she forced out the words, “I love it…so much…”

  “What? What do you love?”

  “Your cock…in my pussy… I love…it…so…so much…”

  “I know, baby,” he purred into her ear. “I love it too.”

  His cock slid in and out, his strong arms holding her against the hot tile, his left arm under her right leg to give him terrific access to her deepest crevices, not nearly enough to accommodate his tremendous size and girth. But again Carter was in complete control, knowing just how far and how fast, shaking and twirling and grind
ing in ways that mere depth could not recreate.

  It was hot and slippery and fantastic, pushing and grinding and sweating and coated with slick, soapy suds. His hands glided happily over her arms and breasts, his own nipples rubbing against her own. Back and forth in tasty little battles of nipple against nipple—miniature love-making on a major scale. His cock sank deeper in; her muscles twitching and pulling as she tried to accommodate his incredible size. His other arm under her other leg completed his mastery of her body, gravity working with him to bring her smashing down onto that sopping pole, over and over again. The slick tile behind her offered her no traction, a cold and hard retribution against the back of her head with her passionate bucking.

  She tried to push against him, but she was also well beyond the illusion of his dominance. It was about her, it always had been and always would be: about her, about him, about them.

  Carter spun her around, their slick and soapy skin making it easy to keep his cock inside her while her body was suddenly turned around, face now pressed against that hot, wet tile. The small of her back arched as he drove that incredible erection into her pussy from behind, the steam and the water and the lather gathering around her like an orgasm outside of her body, yet another enticing reversal. Kat was awash in the gushing froth of another more powerful system than her own, yet it seemed to be connecting to her inner self in a way she knew was commanding her fate. Frothing and cumming and bubbling and hot, sweat and shove and ram and slam, Kat could only hold onto the plastic door of the hotel shower as Carter railed her from behind, muscles clamping and holding tight, burning and seething and basting in her own juices.

  Chapter 22

  Kat

  Carter rented a sleek, black Mercedes Benz sedan, and he gunned the engine hard as he drove them out to the North Cove Marina. Kat liked watching him behind the wheel—a melding of man and machine, sophistication and aggression. As much as Carter eschewed the trappings of contemporary civilization, he certainly wore them well.

  The engine revved up through the seat, her body seeking it out even as she knew it wasn’t appropriate. Something about that made it all the more tempting for her to focus on her new physical sensitivity, and her reignited imagination and intellect. Things were coming alive for her, around her and inside of her, and it effected every minute of every day—the way she saw everything, herself included.

  The Fields family met aboard their yacht—an eighty-foot craft that looked as much like a spaceship as anything else. The bow was sleek and pointed, the several decks broad and welcoming at the stern, black windows protecting the privacy of the cabin.

  Carter seemed very relaxed in his casual wear—slacks and a polo shirt, and though Kat was dressed for the weather in a pair of capris pants and a red-and-white stripped top, looking and feeling a bit like a young Audrey Hepburn, she knew it would take more than fun clothes to achieve anything like comfort among the super-wealthy Fields family. Her stomach turned with nerves, and Carter seemed to sense it. He took her hand as he led her up the gangplank and onto the yacht.

  Kat noticed that the name of the boat, painted on the stern, was Other People’s Money.

  Carter turned as three people approached them—two male twins and a woman, all in their early thirties.

  “Leen, these are my brothers and sister, Houston, Austin Jr, whom we call AJ, and Meadow.” He smiled and turned to his siblings. “This is Kathleen Le Fleur.”

  They shared smiled and nods and coldhearted handshakes. Meadow asked, “What’s that he called you, hon?”

  “Leen, it’s just short for Kathleen.”

  “I’ve never heard of that,” AJ said.

  “My father used to call me Leen.” A tense silence followed.

  Meadow forced out a fake smile. “Well, whatever you like to be called, you’re welcome here. Come in, have a drink.” Leen and Carter followed them up to one of the decks, where a wet bar was set up, a young man in a red jacket already shaking a martini.

  Carter looked around. “So, where is he? Don’t tell me he didn’t show up?”

  Houston said, “Carter, honestly, he’s the one who keeps sending us to come get you. He wants you back in the fold more than any of us.”

  “I don’t doubt that,” Carter grumbled.

  “As I live and can barely breathe,” the low voice said, aged with brandy and experience. The man who owned it stepped out of the cabin, white slacks and a navy blue blazer. “The Prodigal Son.” He extended his hand and Carter shook it, though Kat could sense no real warmth between them. The man looked like his twin sons—blond and handsome—but aging well beyond their years, of course. He extended his hand and introduced himself. “Austin Fields.”

  “Kathleen Le Fleur.”

  Meadow said, “Her friends call her Leen; isn’t that…sweet?”

  The elder Fields said, “At my age, it’s a lot more pleasant that Kath, I can tell you that. Who’s ready for lunch?”

  “I was,” Kat said, the Fields chuckling around her.

  The lobster was perfectly cooked, tender and flakey and dripping in hot butter. The garden salad was crisp and colorful, the clam chowder warm and soothing against the bracing breeze off the Atlantic Ocean.

  “So,” AJ said to Leen, “what is it that you do, um, Leen?”

  “I founded a party entertainment company,” she replied, ready to hold her ground for whatever questions came her way.

  Houston asked, “Escorts?”

  Not sure how to respond but not wanting to linger in that nasty, insulting silence, she said, “Clowns, bouncy houses, that sort of thing.”

  Carter asked Houston, “How can you ask her that?”

  But his brother only shrugged. “Considering your own line of work.” The other Fields family members snickered.

  Houston asked, “How did you two meet?”

  “On the job, actually,” Kat said.

  Meadow gave that some thought. “Carter was at one of your kids’ parties?”

  And Kat just looked at her blankly and said, “No.” A tense pallor fell over the table, a seagull crying as it soared overhead. “Carter tells me the family is in pharmaceuticals.”

  “That’s right,” the senior Fields said with a proud smile on his aging face. “We’re protecting the American people, everyone in the world, the very best we can.”

  “And that’s a very noble calling,” Kat said, “I don’t quite see why Carter is so strongly against it.” Carter seemed surprised by Kat’s turn, but even more intrigued by it, and she was gratified that he was willing to give her a chance, especially with people he knew well and she didn’t know at all.

  But she knew him, and she knew their type. And more and more, she was coming to know herself, and she liked what she was discovering.

  “After all, he only brings joy to people in their daily lives, just a little break from the ordinary. But your business, that’s the big-time, that’s life and death!”

  “Precisely, young woman.”

  “Though all studies show that an active sex life is one of the most healthy practices there is—adds years to your life.” The Fields family looked at her dumbstruck, Carter harboring a little smile.

  Austin Fields set his utensils down. “By paid sex workers?”

  “But he’s not a paid sex worker. He’s a service provider. I paid for the kidnapping. The sex was free.”

  The Field family was aghast, looking at Carter with shocked, opened mouths.

  Carter could only shrug, eating happily. “When she’s right, she’s right.”

  “Miss,” Austin said, standing, “I think it’s time you leave.”

  Kat remained calm, absorbing the glares of those wicked Fields siblings. “But whatever for? I was simply agreeing with you that healthcare is important.”

  “She’s right, Pop.”

  “What would you know? With as little time as you spend around us, you can’t claim to know us at all.”

  “You’re mistaking me for having wanted to,” Carter ret
orted.

  Kat held her hands out to calm the table. “I was only saying—”

  “You were only stirring things up,” Meadow snapped. “And you’ve been asked to leave.”

  Kat glanced at Carter and he back at her. With no further conferring, they stood. She said, “Thank you for having me; I’m sorry to have offended you.”

  Carter said to them, “A pleasure, as always,” before letting Kat slide her arm under his to escort her off the boat, for what both were certain would be the very last time.

  Chapter 23

  Kat

  “They said that?” Jackie shook her head, crossing the little apartment. “I swear to God sometimes, you white people are kraaaaayyyy, ’specially the rich ones.”

  Kat followed behind her, scratching the back of her head. “You won’t get any argument from me.”

  “What’re you gonna do?” Jackie slipped out the window and turned to take her seat, unlit cigarette and lighter in her hands.

  “What am I supposed to do? He doesn’t like them anyway, and he’s pretty crazy about me.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “If not, he’s a helluva good actor.”

  “Could be both.” A stymied quiet filled the room, Jackie lighting her cigarette on the third try. “Anyway, if these people really don’t like you, they could make things…difficult, y’know?”

  “No, I don’t know.”

  “Rich people like that? First of all, they could know all sorts of people.” Jackie spat out a lungful of white smoke. “Internal Revenue, homeland security, you don’t know.”

  Kat gave that just a little bit of thought. “I pay my taxes, and what do I care about homeland security?”

  “When it comes to them, you never know! And as for the IRS, kiddo, you’re a small business—you really want them going through all your deductions, all your filings since you’ve been here in New York? What a mess!”

 

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