Sweet Spot

by Goode, Ella

  “Mrs. Benson.” He points with his head to a woman dressed in all black, another expensive handbag dangling off her arm, diamonds around her neck and wrist. I was really joking about the whole capitalism thing, but I see how it is. The art world is like any other business. Anything, including prestige, can be bought. Good thing I have a deep pocket. I paste a smooth smile on my face and cross to Mrs. Benson. As soon as she turns away from her conversation with another man, I step into her path.

  “I’m David Peters.” I use my dad’s name. “There’s a few pieces of art I want to buy. I heard you handle the transaction.”

  Mrs. Benson’s eyes grow bright. “I certainly do. What lot?”

  “Carrie Montlain. Her work really speaks to me.”

  “Which one of her works?”

  “All of them.”

  “All?”

  “All.” I take the woman’s hand and place it into the crook of my arm. “Lead the way to the register. I want to finalize this order before anyone else steals them away.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Carrie

  My anxiety keeps fading away with each second that passes by. I keep getting lost in conversations with people as they walk by my section. Everyone’s praises for my work have me on cloud nine. This is going way better than I could have imagined. I’ve enjoyed hearing all of the different interpretations people have on the same piece. It makes me feel accomplished when one of the paintings evokes an emotion from the onlooker.

  I smile when I see Booker heading back my way. He’s in a suit that makes him look older than he really is. Especially with his height.

  “How’s it going?” he asks as he leans down to brush his mouth against mine.

  “Wonderfully.” I smile up at him. My cheeks are going to hurt by the end of the night at this rate, but I can’t help myself. This sense of belonging surrounds me. It feels incredible to see people enjoy all of my hard work.

  “Your eyes are shining.”

  “I’m excited is all. It’s been nothing like I thought it would be.” I rest my hand on his chest, waiting for him to notice the one painting I’d kept hidden from him because I wanted to surprise him. I’d been working on it late at night for the past week whenever I got home.

  When his whole body goes solid, I know he sees it. His eyes focus on it as he guides me over toward it. The painting is only a close up of his face. His head is tilted with his dimples on full display. It’s the way that I see him.

  “You painted me. It’s breathtaking. This is how you see me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why does this feel different from the other times I’ve seen you sketch me?” He searches the painting trying to find the answer.

  “I haven't drawn you in a while.” I turn in his arms to face him. “I see you differently now. I don’t know how I missed the way you looked at me before. Your eyes say it all. And well.” I lick my lips, pushing myself to tell him it all. “I’ve always loved you, but the love has changed recently.” That’s the truth. I’ve known for a while that I have feelings for him, but I was too scared to act on them. And never in a million years had I thought he would reciprocate them.

  “Carrie.” His voice grows thick. “What had you been missing in my eyes all this time?” My face flushes, not sure I can say the next part. It’s presumptuous. “Come on, Care-bear. Tell me.”

  “That you love me.”

  “I do. I knew you were the girl for me years ago.” He leans down and kisses me again. “I know we planned to go home tonight, but do you think we can stay another night?”

  “We can do anything you want.”

  “How is it going over here?” someone asks. I step back from Booker’s hold on me to answer the question seeing that it’s Whitney. He’s been such a disappointment to meet in person. His art doesn't match him. He may be skilled with a, but his personality needs a makeover.

  “Everything is great,” Booker says before I can respond, putting his hand at the small of my back. Whitney’s jaw flexes, and I know he’s irritated with Booker. He seems like he’s the type of boy that doesn’t like to be told no and actually takes it as a challenge. He’s a user. I can sense it.

  “That’s wonderful. I already sold everything.” He smiles smugly. I bet he came all the way over here to rub that in my face. “What about you?”

  “Nothing yet. I’m just happy to be here.” Even as I say the words, I see Mrs. Benson heading towards me with sold stickers, making me think I might have sold something. I really hope it’s not the one of Booker. Dang it. I should have said it’s not for sale. How am I ever going to allow someone to take it home?

  “Carrie, I’m so glad that you were able to make it tonight.” She extends her hand to me.

  “Thank you for having me.” I reach out to shake her hand.

  “No need to thank me. It’s your hard work that has landed you here. Your pieces are exquisite.” I swear I smile so big at her compliment that my cheeks feel numb. “And I’m obviously not the only one that thinks so since someone has purchased all of them.”

  My legs get a little weak as my mind tries to fully process her words. Thank God that Booker is standing behind me, or I think I would have collapsed. I go to open my mouth, but I can’t seem to find any words. Oh God, I think I’m in shock or something.

  I watch as she puts the sold tags next to each one. Out of the corner of my eyes I see Whitney leave, that smug look no longer on his face.

  “Can you believe this?” I say to Booker.

  “Hell yeah I can.” I love how sure he always is of me. I need that.

  “You’re going to have to come back. I’ve had a few others try to come up and snag some, but I had to tell them you’d already sold out.”

  “Really?” Oh my gosh. I’m about to burst. My eyes sting with happy tears.

  “Yes, really. Do you have any cards by chance?”

  “Yes!” Grams had been right about me needing business cards. She suggested it when I told her about the art show. I didn’t think I would, but they weren't expensive to make so I had some done online. I grab some of them and hand them over.

  “Perfect. I know you already sold out, but I suggest you stay. Potential buyers might have questions.”

  “Of course.” I’m not going anywhere.

  I’m pretty sure this is the best day of my life. Not only did my art sell out, but Booker loves me too. For the first time I’m not so sure of my future and what I want anymore. The one thing I know for certain is that whatever it is I end up choosing, I want Booker at my side.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Booker

  Carrie is over the moon happy as we drive home. She was a giggly puppy in bed last night, too, which made my purchases all the sweeter. She sat on my face and then laid her head in my lap, sucking on my dick like a lollipop while I watched the Nationals get buried by the Yankees. At another time, I might’ve been upset over the outcome, but I stopped watching at the sixth inning because her tongue was too clever and her mouth too hot to ignore. I had her hang over the edge of the bed, her neck stretched out long, and I drove my cock down her throat until her eyes watered. She looked hot as sin as the outline of my shaft appeared and disappeared along her throat. I get hard just remembering it.

  I take her hand and place it against my thick member. “You want to stay the night at my place?”

  She curls her fingers over the ridge and strokes me lightly. “Is there another game on and you need distracting from the bad results?”

  “Hell if I know.” I shift down in my seat so she can reach more of me. When are we getting those self-driving cars anyway? Right now would be the perfect time to put it on autopilot and bury my face in her cunt. I really can’t wait. “Care-bear, flip your skirt up and let me finger your pussy.”

  “In the car? As you're driving? Other people could see.” She sounds scandalized.

  “They can’t. You’ll be too low. Just spread those legs for me. Let me get a little taste.”

 
; “I don’t know.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see her inching up the hem of her pretty floral skirt. Her thighs flash into view and then the pink cotton of her panties. I slide my free hand over her warm thigh and tug the cotton out of the way.

  “Wider, Care-bear.” I rub my fingers over her already slick skin, spreading the moisture from her pussy over her small clit and her swollen lips. “That’s it,” I croon. My dick is ready to explode, and sweat is beading across my forehead. I’ve got a grip stronger than glue on the steering wheel. Keeping my eyes focused on the empty road in front of me, I dip inside her soaked channel. She stifles a moan.

  “Oh no. Don’t keep that from me. If I can’t see what I’m doing, the least you can do is let me hear you. In fact, I want you to tell me how you feel. Do you like me fingering your pussy, Care-bear?”

  “Y-yes.” A shuddery breath escapes her.

  “What do you like about it? Does it feel better when I pinch your clit or rub it?”

  “Oh, both. I like both.”

  “And in your cunt, do you want another finger?”

  “Yes, but—” She inhales sharply when I drive three fingers into her tight channel.

  “But what about the clit, right? The clit feels lonely? Since I’ve got to drive, I want you to lick your fingers. Are you doing that for me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” The urge to come in my jeans beats at the back of my head and the base of my spine. My erection pushes against the rough fabric of my jeans. I shouldn’t have free balled it today. I bite the inner skin of my cheek until I bleed, trying to regain a tiny semblance of control. “Reach between your legs and rub your clit for me.”

  She hesitates. I withdraw my fingers until the tips sit at the entrance of her sex. “We done then?”

  “No. No. I just...in front of you?”

  “First, I’m not even looking. My eyes are on the road. Second, I’m not touching you until you do what I say.”

  “Oh, you’re going to be bossy like that?” Her words say she wants to argue, but her tone is quick and high. Me telling her what to do is turning her on even more.

  “That’s fucking right. Hand on your clit, girl, and don’t give me any back chat or I’m pulling over.” She still doesn’t move. I swerve into the left lane, and her hand dives between her legs. I thrust three fingers inside of her. She gasps and then moans. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” I blink several times to bring the road into focus. There’s a rest stop up ahead, and I switch into the exit lane. Carrie doesn’t notice because her eyes are closed and her head is thrown back against the headrest. Her fingers are busy plucking and pinching at her erect clit while my free hand is fucking her as deep and hard as I can. I drive to the far end, cut the engine, and then rip off her seat belt.

  “What’re you doing?” she cries wildly, so immersed in the sensations she didn’t realize we’d stopped.

  “I need to fuck you right now. Your wet cunt needs to be swallowing my cock within the next ten seconds or it’s falling off.” I fumble with my own seatbelt and shove my jeans just far enough to free my ruddy, thick cock. She throws a leg over my lap. I grab her hips and lower her sopping sex onto my aching dick. We both groan in satisfaction when I slide into her.

  The sounds of our fucking fill the sports car. If anyone was looking over, they’d probably see the chassis shaking with the force of my thrusts. She rides me, hard and fierce. Her hands curl into my chest, the palms digging into my muscles. I fist my hand in her hair and drag her down until her mouth meets mine. I plunge my tongue into her mouth in the same rhythm as my shaft drives into her sheath. “Come for me, Carrie. Come for me right now,” I command against her lips. My orgasm can’t wait, but I need her to find her release first. She’s always going to be first in my life. “Come on, baby. Fuck me hard.”

  She shouts her release as her hot milky cum drenches my cock. The moment her juice splashes my skin, I unshackle my control and let my cum wash into her like a tsunami, torrent after torrent jetting out of me and into her. I wouldn’t be surprised if we make a baby right here in this damned sports car. “I love you, Carrie. Love you until the end of all time.” I bury my head into her neck, panting and breathless. “Won’t ever let you go.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Carrie

  I smile into the pillow as Booker trails kisses down my back. “We’ve got to get up or we’ll be late.” He places more kisses on my skin, which isn’t helping me get out of this bed anytime soon. His hand comes down on my ass in a loud smack. I let out a small scream more in surprise than anything. I quickly roll over to my back to glare up at him. All he does is kiss the glare right off my face.

  This new assertive side of Booker is a major freaking turn-on. When he bosses me around and snaps out orders for me to abide by, there is no hiding the reaction my body has. I never thought I’d get turned on by such a thing, but I do every single time.

  He breaks the kiss to climb out of bed. I groan, not wanting this moment to end. I wish we could stay in our little world for a bit longer.

  “Up you go.” Before I know what’s happening, I’m being lifted into his arms. I wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his body as he carries me into the bathroom. He sits me down on the vanity. He reaches out to tuck a piece of my hair that had fallen into my face behind my ear before leaning in to give me a quick kiss. “Get in the shower. I’m going to make you some breakfast.”

  “You’re not coming in with me?” He gives me a quick kiss before taking a step back from me.

  “We’ll never get out of here if I get in that shower with you.” I know he’s right, but he’s awoken something in me, and now I can’t get enough of him. I don’t want to go back to the reality of school and work. I want to stay in this little bubble with him forever. “Don’t pout. You know I hate the idea of you being unhappy.”

  “I was feeling extra dirty and could’ve really used your help.” I make one last attempt at getting him to go in the shower with me. A deep growl comes from his chest before his mouth is once again on mine. I smile against his lips, thinking I’ve won.

  Once again he lifts me up into his arms. He breaks the kiss as he enters the shower with me. “We’ll have to be fast.”

  “I know.” I reach down between us, guiding his cock inside of me. I’m still wet from the sex we had before we crashed, plus I’m turned on. I push my hips down, taking him all the way inside of me. My body adjusts to his cock perfectly.

  “Fuck. How did I live without this?” he groans, pressing me up against the tiled wall.

  “I don’t know, but I’m never giving it up.” He starts to thrust in and out of me. I grip his shoulders, unable to move with him. He’s got me pinned in place so he can take what he wants. Damn does that turn me on. I’m so into this more assertive Booker. I moan, my orgasm already coming.

  “Touch yourself,” he demands.

  I reach between us, going to my clit. Booker grunts as his thrusts become harder. His cock is so deep inside me. It’s almost painful but titillating too.

  “Booker.” I gasp his name.

  “Give it to me.” My body locks around him as the orgasm hits me. Booker buries his face in my neck as he gives two more hard pumps, coming deep inside of me. I know I’m going to feel him all day. “Love you.” He kisses my neck. My heart flutters every time he says those words to me.

  “Love you, too.” He slowly puts me back on my feet and quickly rinses off.

  “I’m going to get you food.”

  “I’m okay.”

  “You need food. Breakfast is important.” His voice goes stern. I have to fight a laugh.

  “Okay.” I give. He drops another quick kiss on my lips before leaving me in the shower. I finish washing off. When I get out, I towel dry my hair before pulling on some jean shorts and snag one of Booker’s baseball shirts. I have to tie it at the bottom or it would look like a freaking dress on me.

  “Booker.” A knock sounds at the door before it slowly starts to o
pen.

  “He’s downstairs,” I rush to say, but Mr. Peters opens the door all the way. He’s in his normal suit. My face rushes with heat. He hadn’t been here when we got back here last night. Booker’s mom loves me and didn’t care that I was staying over. My mom wouldn’t care either, but I asked Grams. She told me I’m eighteen and can do what I want as long as I still handle my responsibilities.

  “Carrie.” A frown shows on his face. My stomach cramps. “Sorry. I was looking for Booker.”

  “He’s in the kitchen,” I tell him. He nods before shutting the door. Lovely.

  What was the frown about? Having a girl over or the fact that it’s me? I know Booker’s dad has crazy expectations when it comes to his only son. Not wanting to let myself go down that path of thoughts, I slip on my sneakers and braid my damp hair.

  I pause when I almost make it to the kitchen hearing Booker and his dad talking. “I’ll date whoever I want.” Oh crap. I guess I have my answer. Mr. Peters is not happy that Booker is dating me.

  “Your focus should be on school. Girls are fine, but you don’t let them sleep over. They start to get ideas then.”

  “Good. I want Carrie to have all the fucking ideas she can come up with when it comes to me and her.”

  “You’re not thinking straight.” I take a step back, running right into Mrs. Peters.

  “Don’t listen to him. He can be a big jerk sometimes,” she says loud enough for them to hear in the kitchen.

  Booker steps around to see me standing there. The pissed-off look on his face fades. “Made you breakfast.” He grabs my hand, pulling me into the kitchen.

  Mr. Peters actually looks a bit crestfallen. Booker guides me over to the kitchen island, pulling out my chair for me but not before he kisses me. It’s not a quick kiss either. His hand grips my hair as he presses his mouth hard against mine.

  “Love you,” he says it loud enough for his parents to hear. My whole face flushes. He’s making things very clear to his father.