Taboo Series Book 1 & 2 Bundle
Page 14
Carter wastes no time removing my shirt. “It’s even better in person,” he says, sliding his finger under the lace strap of my bra. He thumbs the bow.
“I knew you’d like it.”
I lean against the stairs, while he hovers over me kissing my chest and neck. “I like everything about you.”
I’ve untucked his shirt, revealing the low dip of his abs muscles right above his waist. His skin feels warm and his cock strains against his pants. I tug down the zipper, letting him free.
“It’s been a long time since we’ve had to sneak around,” I say, feeling the soft skin expand and grow taut.
“Desperate times…”
“Hey baby,” I say to his dick, kissing the tip. I’m ridiculously happy to see it for the first time in days. Carter uses his hands to climb up the steps, so his cock is in my face. I suck the head, tasting the salt and feeling velvet. Heat warms between my legs and I’m so freaking horny I could probably come off his arousal alone. I lick up and down his shaft, stroking his balls with my hands. His dick swells and I take him in my mouth.
Carter grunts quietly, fucking my mouth. His hand reaches down, between my legs and pushes my panties aside, his fingers find my clit and he toys with the sensitive flesh. I lift my butt off the step, trying to get closer. It works.
Lost in sensation I almost miss the noise that comes from the garage, but a loud click brings me to reality and I freeze. Carter does the same, his dick still hard in my mouth.
“Can you carry these,” someone asks with a voice I don’t recognize.
Another guy replies, “Sure, I’ve got it.”
A light brightens the room below us, and I hear the clink of glass bottles. They’re getting drinks from the refrigerator. My heart races, fear and adrenaline racing through my veins. I’m about to abort our hook up when Carter moves, pushing his cock into my mouth, slowly, silently. His fingers inch lower, two slipping inside while his thumb resumes caressing my clit. With two guys around the corner, oblivious, we fuck.
The refrigerator shuts with a slam and the guys leave the garage. Once I feel safe, I let out a repressed moan and come around his fingers. My orgasm makes me lightheaded, but I use my hands to spread his butt cheeks and run my fingers along the tender, hidden skin. He jerks in surprise, but it’s enough to tip him over the edge, and he shudders, finishing with a final restrained thrust. I swallow the warm cum and wipe my lips.
“Wow,” I say. Carter stands and tucks himself back in. I take his hand and stand, shaky on my feet. “I should get drunk more often.”
“We can do that anytime you want,” he says, smoothing my hair. “Drunk or sober. I’m just taking advantage of your weak resolve. You made the rules.”
“Like I can resist your cock in my face,” I whisper.
He smiles and I see his white teeth in the darkened stairwell. “You’ve spoiled me. And my cock loves you.”
He kisses me quick and disappears into the garage. Dammit. He didn’t play fair and I had a feeling our short-lived sex moratorium has just come to a definitive close. Now it’s just about not getting caught.
Chapter 5
“Ruthie.”
I wake to the sound of my name and a kiss. Oh, and a sharp pain in my temple. I struggle to open my eyes but everything hurts. I bury my face in the pillow.
“Ruthie, you awake?” Carter whispers.
I shake my head.
“I’m headed to the gym. Thought maybe you could give me a ride.”
I roll over and open one eye. “I’m pretty sure I’d fail a sobriety test.”
“Can I take your car?”
I try to nod but my head aches with each movement. “Keys are in my bag.”
“Thanks,” he says, kissing my forehead. “Get some sleep. Love you.”
*
“Happy Christmas Eve!” my mother sings when I walk into the kitchen several hours later. She’s standing at an ironing board, pressing the wrinkles out of a red and green table cloth.
My sister grunts and hands me a cup of coffee. Guess I’m not the only one that drank too much last night.
“Thanks.” I don’t bother adding cream or sugar. I just need caffeine.
“Don’t ever let me do that again,” Tara says.
“Of course not,” I agree, knowing better. Tara’s not an alcoholic or anything but she definitely can drink me under the table. “So what’s the plan today? Naps? Hours of television?”
My mother springs into action, verbally listing all the things we need to do before church later that evening. I’m cursing Jesus for making his holiday so filled with gluttony and swallowing a handful of Advil when the back door opens and Carter walks in. He’s damp and beautiful. Red faced and invigorated from his workout. He also smells like he bathed in French fries.
“Thanks for letting me borrow your car,” he says, leaving my key on the counter. He holds up a paper fast food bag and a large soda. “I brought you breakfast as a thank you.”
“Oh, um, thanks,” I say, fighting the urge to hug him. I’d given Carter this same treat the first time I’d seen him hung over after a pre-rush party. I waste no time and shove a handful of fries in my mouth ignoring how my mother smiles fondly at Carter as though he’s the chosen one. Clearly, he’s managed to jump up another notch. Tara eyes the two of us curiously. I remove the second container of fries and shove it across the counter. “Eat these. You look green.”
“How was your swim?” my mother asks.
“Nice,” he says. “I get tomorrow off for the holiday.”
“I should hope so. I think that coach of yours works you too hard.”
The fries hit the spot and my queasy stomach settles down. I lick the salt off my lips and the tips of my fingers. “Those were awesome,” I say. “Thanks again. You didn’t have to do that.”
“You’re welcome and it was no problem. Thanks for letting me drive your car; it was a relief to be able to go to the gym without bothering anyone. The fries are my way of buttering you up for next time.”
I stare at him, damp haired and smelling like chlorine. Add sunscreen to the mix and he’s a walking aphrodisiac. The tiny smirk on his face makes me think that at some point ‘driving my car’, had become a metaphor for fucking me in a stairwell. I lick my lips once more and say, “Any time.”
“Ruthie,” my mother says, “I’ve been meaning to tell you. I saw the Moorefields last week at church. Jamie’s coming home this afternoon and staying for a couple of days.”
“Okay,” I say, not sure why we’re talking about my ex. “And?”
“Just wanted to prepare you that we may see them at church. I wouldn’t want anything to be uncomfortable for you.”
“Why would it be uncomfortable?” I ask, carefully avoiding eye contact with Carter because things are suddenly very uncomfortable.
My mother gives me an unamused look.
“Because he dumped me? Why would that be awkward?” I ask, stating the obvious. “Don’t worry. I won’t embarrass anyone being desperate or anything.”
“Ruthie, we know you aren’t desperate, Mom was just giving you a head’s up,” Tara says.
“Whatever. I promise to be on my best behavior. I’m going to take a shower.”
My mother and sister share a look before going back to their activities. I hear the steam of the iron sizzle in the quiet kitchen. I crumple the bag and throw it in the trash, passing Carter, who’s silently trying to blend into the wall.
*
“Sorry about earlier,” I say. “I didn’t mean for you to witness all that family drama.” We’re standing near the stack of firewood, using the chore as an opportunity to speak privately.
“It’s fine,” he says, picking up several logs.
I place two more on the pile in his arms and we walk back to the fire pit. “I was hung over and not feeling like dealing with the Jamie drama.”
“I know. I’m not worried about it. You shouldn’t be, either.”
“Thanks again for the
fries.”
“Anytime, babe.”
Carter drops the pile of wood near the pit and Sean loads them onto the fire one at a time. Maddie and Josh sweep the walkway, while Tara sits by the fire with a watchful eye on the door, hiding from my mother. The afternoon is cool, but warm enough to sit outside away from the insanity of nonstop Christmas music and my mother’s frenzied cooking. I take a seat next to Tara and toss acorns into the blazing fire.
“So is this a family tradition?” Carter asks, pointing to the fire pit.
“Not really,” Tara says. “Mom is so busy inside she won’t come looking for us out here. Why is the house so hot all the time?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “And why do they keep the TV on that smooth jazz holiday music channel. It’s the worst.”
“It is the worst,” Tara laughs. “And it’s on twenty-four-seven.”
“So basically you’re hiding from your parents.”
My sister and I nod and Sean says, “Pretty much.”
“So Carter, do you have a girl friend?” Tara asks.
I jerk my head in her direction but she’s looking at Carter. He sits back in his chair and says, “Yes.”
Oh really?
My nosey sister continues. “You didn’t want to spend the holiday with her?”
“Of course, but it didn’t work out so it seemed like a better idea to just come with Josh.”
“What’s she like?”
I listen, tossing acorns one by one into the fire. They pop and crackle. “She’s great. Smart. Funny. Kind.” He laughs, confident and totally secure. “She totally kicks my ass.”
I turn away, breaking into a smile. “She’s probably pretty hot,” I add.
Tara nods in agreement. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”
“Geez, leave the guy alone,” Sean says, shaking his head. He picked up a basketball left on the ground from an earlier game. “Let’s go play a round before these two get her name, address and social security number.”
When they’re safely out of sight, Tara says, “Can you imagine?”
“What?” I ask, my eyes following every move Carter makes as he walks across the yard with Sean.
“Dating that.”
“Must be pretty incredible.”
He strips off his sweatshirt, revealing a tight T-shirt. He bounces the ball on the driveway and passes it to Sean. He moves with ease, the way he always does. Athletic and controlled. Long, wide arms making impossible moves. “God, I bet he’s amazing in bed.”
I bite my lip and watch him take a shot. His shirt rises, revealing the tempting trail of hair traveling down his belly. I grip the arms of my chair. “He’s young,” I say, trying to be reasonable.
“But confident, right? Just look how confident he is.”
“Yeah.” She’s got that right. One of Carter’s best attributes is that he’s secure but not egotistical. It’s a fine line and he balances it well. “Would you ever date a younger guy like that?” I ask. “You know; if you were single?”
Tara ponders the question but never takes her eyes off the guys. “If I was single and didn’t have kids, yes. But dating a guy Josh’s age? That’s pushing it don’t you think?”
“Totally.”
“But if I were surrounded by guys his age at school like you are it would be a tempting choice.”
“It’s not like I hang around the fraternity house.”
She laughs as though the idea is hysterical. “No, I guess not. But yeah, a relationship? Probably not. A one night stand? I’d hit it.”
I nod because I understand what she’s saying. It’s how I felt once upon a time. It’s how part of me feels now, except the part in my heart. The part that loves him as much as I crave his body.
*
Before church, I wait outside the basement door listening to the sounds of Carter and Josh playing video games. They trash talk, laughing and insulting one another, like friends. Really, they’ve become friends and for that I’m grateful. It’s one less lie I’m telling everyone.
Lies.
They’ve become second nature. I told one a minute ago when I carried down an empty bag, pretending it was filled with presents that needed wrapping. “I’m heading to the work room,” I said. “No peeking!”
In reality, I’ve been down here for ten minutes with my back pressed to the wall, weighing the dilemma of how much of a whore I’m willing to look like in front of my nephew. I’ve come down here to kick him out and have sex with my boyfriend. My super-secret boyfriend.
That can’t be acceptable aunt-like behavior. But then again, Carter isn’t your average boyfriend. I haven’t fucked him proper in three days. The longest we’ve gone in months. For a relationship based on sex, it’s too long. I feel like I may crumble if I don’t have him inside me soon.
“Play another?” Carter asks and I know now is my only chance.
I pop into the room and say, “Hey guys.”
“Hey, Aunt Ruthie, what brings you to the dungeon?”
“I, uh, wanted to talk to Carter for a minute.” I swallow and add, “Alone.”
Josh looks between the two of us. I jut my chin in guilty determination. Carter leans into the couch cushion and shrugs. Yeah, we’re going to screw. “Please, Josh, just a couple minutes alone.”
“Whatever,” he says, dropping the game controller on the couch. “Did Grandma make any of that holiday snack stuff?”
“In the pantry.”
“Excellent.”
“Cover for us—“ I add. Worst aunt ever.
He disappears around the corner and I lock the door. The area between my legs is already warm. Already wet. I strip off my sweater and reveal a threadbare wife beater, nipples erect from the sudden change in temperature. I’m prepared, losing the bra before I even came down here.
“Come here,” Carter says, pulling me closer. He unbuttons my jeans and yanks them to my knees. I kick them off and climb onto his lap. There was a time when I always took the lead. Taught him how to make a girl pant and beg. Lately we’ve been on more even ground. He knows how to handle himself. Handle me, but not now.
“Fuck me, babe,” I say, assuming control, pulling his shirt over his head, while he struggles out of his sweats. They pool at his ankles, not even all the way off. They don’t need to be. His cock bounces upward. “Hold still,” I direct him and he steadies it. I lower myself on his stiff, raised dick.
“Damn.” He kisses me, tongue licking my lips and entering my mouth. I lift my knees and place my feet on each side of his hips. Carter pulls off my shirt and I lean back over his long thighs. “Where are you going?” he asks, reaching for me.
I wrap my arms around his legs and offer him a fantastic view of my chest and pussy. He licks his thumb and strokes it against my clit. I roll my hips as best as I can and with a shell shocked, lopsided grin on his face, Carter catches on.
He pushes in deep, thrusting easy while his thumbs work magic. I want him to touch every part of my body, and he does, humming with his own satisfaction. The multiple stimulation feels so good it hurts and I whimper and cry in equal parts pain and arousal.
“Keep it up, babe,” Carter whispers, encouraging me to test my limits. My head grows light and my arms weak; the grip I have on his legs loosening as I become a puddle of orgasmic goo on his lap.
“I can’t hold on,” I breathe, barely coherent.
“Let go.” He runs a hand up my chest, rolling my nipple between his fingers. The move unites the sensations of my body and I crumble, coming hard. Carter reaches for my hips and continues to thrust. My breasts pick up his rhythm, moving faster and faster until he forcefully comes, with a long, rumbling growl.
I lay on his lap, catching my breath, and his fingers roam, brushing against my ultra-sensitive clit. I bat him away but he keeps at it, soothing the red, overstimulated flesh. Shivers rush up and down my skin and I find my weakened body responding with glee, moving in time with his fingers.
“Come for me again,” Carte
r says, hands gentle now.
“We don’t have time,” I argue, pretty sure my words come out a jumbled mess. He doesn’t stop, though. Every move he makes feels luxurious and patient. Light as a feather, and before long I feel the tension building again in the pit of my stomach.
“Mmmmm,” I purr against his hands. I lazily open an eye and see him studying my body with interest. Like this is his job or homework or the most important test he’s ever taken. Unexpectedly, an intense bolt of pleasure rushes through my limbs. I moan and twist in response.
“You liked that?” he says, fingers circling the same spot as before.
“Yes, do it again.”
He doesn’t right away though, teasing and taunting. I squirm trying to make it happen.
“Be patient.”
“You know I’m not.”
Without warning he touches the spot, applying pressure when I least expect it. “Oh,” I pant, riding the gentle wave, bigger but not quite there. “More,” I cry. I want more.
A loud bang from upstairs brings me to my senses and I say, “Carter we don’t have all day.” But I’m putty in his skilled hands and he knows it. I’m not going anywhere. I don’t have control of this relationship. Of him. Of anything.
I relax and close my eyes, feeling nothing but pleasure. Diligently, he coaxes the orgasm out of me, and I shudder and writhe, while cradled in his lap. Legs fall slack and I catch my breath, gazing up at him in a cloudy haze, warm all over. I feel so close to him.
He pulls me up and we kiss until a sharp knock on the door makes us stop.
“Time’s up,” Josh says from the other side.
“That was amazing.”
“Yeah, that one goes in the spank bank.”
Indeed.
I stand on wobbly, weak legs and dress. After we’re clothed, Carter says, “Merry Christmas Eve.”
“That didn’t seem very church-like,” I said, realizing we’ve got to get ready.
“Really? Seemed kind of like a holy experience to me.”
“You need to repent your sins,” I tell him.
“I don’t feel bad about that.”