And by the time the door clicked shut to his second-floor room, he had Nicki in a tight embrace, his tongue dancing in her mouth. Mmmm…he was good. His lips were then down on her neck and her collarbone next, as he took his leather jacket off, tossing it onto the chair just past the doorway. Nicki felt her hands moving up the back of Carlos’s red t-shirt. His back was nothing but muscle, but she could barely concentrate on it. His hands were on her waist and then her ass, and he picked her up, holding her close, her legs wrapped around his midsection.
He pressed her back up against the wall, and all that was between her flesh and him was a thin pair of lacy black panties. She could feel him growing hard and hot, pressed up against his jeans, and she felt her loins respond in kind. His mouth was back on hers and she finished pulling his shirt up. He started grinding up against her until she let out a weak sigh, her fingernails digging in his back.
He picked her up again, but instead of laying her on the bed, he sat her on the round table next to the chair. With one swoop of his forearm, he slid a thick notebook off the table, probably one of those that listed all the hotel’s amenities. He leaned down and his hands held her face. He kissed her again, then brushed her hair back with a hand, exposing her neck. He kissed it, lots of small kisses, down the length of her neck, then to her collarbone. His hands moved to her breasts, reined in by her tight dress. But he found the hard, pointed nipples through the fabric and teased them with his touch, rubbing them in a circular motion with his thumbs. Her fingers wound through his hair. He laid her back on the table, kissing her on the lips again, and then got down on his knees. He kissed inside her thighs while his hands pushed up on the dress at her hips. She felt his thumb on top of her wet panties and he massaged until a guttural moan escaped her lips. He then grabbed the panties on either side and slid them down past her knees. She thought he wasn’t going to waste his time—he knew she was ready and he was too, so he was going to fuck her right here on the table.
Only he didn’t stand up. Instead, he placed his thumbs on either side of her labia and spread them apart and then she could feel his breath. His tongue, warm and soft, began stroking her clitoris. Her hands found his head again and coiled around his short hair. “Oh…” His tongue started moving faster, faster as her breathing grew deeper and deeper and then the dam broke. Her legs quivered as deep moans rushed out of her throat. His hands pressed into her thighs as his tongue continued to work its magic.
She was still breathing heavily, a quivering mass on the table, as he stood. He unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans, then pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and retrieved a condom. She sat up as he unwrapped the condom and pulled his jeans down past his ass. She pulled down his boxers and found the beast inside. She stroked it until he slid the condom on. Her breath was jagged as he made his way inside her pussy and stood, holding her under her bottom, and fucked her standing up. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed under his ear. She moved her lips up to his ear and said, “Harder, Carlos.” He grunted in response and she felt another orgasm swell. She moaned again and sensed that he was coming too as he pushed her against the wall again, hammering it home.
He stood there a few moments, still holding Nicki, hot breath against her neck. Then he lifted her and laid her on the bed. He lay next to her and dozed off, his jeans still wrapped around his knees, the condom slowly shriveling.
He’d fucked her hard, all right, and good, but he was almost gentlemanly about it. What made her think of that was half an hour later when he awoke and stripped down to nothing, tossing the used rubber in the trash. “Would you stay the night with me, mi dulzura?” he asked.
Either he was confusing her with another girl or muttering more Spanish. It sounded Spanish and Carlos didn’t seem like a dummy, so she figured it was the latter. She wasn’t quite sure what he was saying, but it didn’t sound like a word she knew. She nodded, smiling, and asked if she could use the facilities first. She splashed a little water on her face and stripped her clothes off, then curled up next to her temporary Latin lover.
Chapter Seven
CARLOS HAD ASKED Nicki to stay for room service breakfast the next morning (“Order whatever you want”), but she had overslept and knew she had to get something done for the paper before returning to Napoli. They fucked in the shower before she left, but she did have to skip breakfast. And Carlos confessed that mi dulzura, loosely translated, meant something like my sweet thing in English, so she didn’t have to worry that he was calling her by someone else’s name. Not that she could ever hold that against anyone…
“Farewell, mi dulzura Nicki, until we meet again.” She knew a guy like Carlos would never be back in her little town to rock her world again, but it was sweet of him to imply it just the same.
She got home and dressed, feeling top of the world. Nothing like a good lay to take your mind off everything that mattered. She knew she had to at the very least go to the police station today to get some info on Edwards, enough, she hoped, to be an article’s worth.
So she sat in the lobby at the police station, waiting to talk to Detective Nathan Wright. After waiting almost an hour, Detective Wright asked Nicki to come to his office. She showed him her “press” card but he seemed unimpressed.
They sat in his small white plain office, Nicki in a chair next to his desk. The office was cramped. Nicki was glad she’d worn a sundress that came to her knees today, but she was wishing she’d worn a jacket. The dress only had thin straps, so she was braless. Somehow, with a cop, she felt like she was indecent. No doubt the steamy morning sex contributed to her feelings of guilt. Must have been that Lutheran background she’d never quite been able to shake…
“What can I do for you, Ms. Sosebee?” She tried not to cringe (or glare) visibly. The police officer pronounced her name “Soh-suh-bee” like many stupid asses before him instead of the correct pronunciation, “Sohs-bee.” Two syllables. It was as dumb as when people said “ath-uh-lete.” Puh-lease.
Nicki opened the cover on her steno pad. “Please call me Nicki. I’m writing an article on the Jason Edwards case and wanted to ask some questions.”
Wright shook his head. “That case is still under investigation, so there’s not much I can tell you.”
Nicki’s pen wilted in her hand. “Well, what can you tell me?”
“He’s out on bail as of eight o’clock this morning.” Nicki jotted it down. “Anything other than that, you need to talk to the District Attorney’s Office.”
She felt a sigh escape her lips. She wanted to tell him it would have been nice if he could have told her that before making her wait an inordinate amount of time, but the last thing she wanted to do was piss off a policeman. Someday he might be able to give her info, so she needed to keep relations smooth. She jotted a note to talk to the DA in her pad and looked up, catching his eyes on the bare skin above her dress. Maybe she didn’t regret wearing the dress after all…
* * *
After striking out with the DA’s office as well, Nicki decided to go cry on Sean’s shoulder a little bit. Part of her missed the days when she could call one of her female friends, especially Brandy. But Brandy just got married last month, and Brandy—a goodie two shoes—hadn’t lived with Kevin before they got married. So Nicki knew they were probably christening every nook and cranny of their new house. Even if they weren’t, Brandy just wasn’t as available as she used to be, and when she was, she was with Kevin. It just didn’t feel right anymore. Maybe after some time passed, things would change. And Jillian was even worse. She loved Jillian, but Jillian had three kids now, all under the age of five. So there was no such thing as conversation with her anymore. They were cute kids, great in fact, but they demanded Mommy’s attention, and Nicki couldn’t blame them. And the last time she’d visited, she’d said fuck more than once and got lectured by both Jillian and her husband Nate. Tense and so not worth it.
So Sean it was. It was bright out. It was only ten-thirty, but Nicki could tell today was
probably going to be even hotter than yesterday. She had her windows all the way down in the car, and only the breeze kept her from breaking out into a serious sweat.
Sean’s blue truck was parked out front, so she knew he was there, but she hadn’t ever known a time, Monday through Friday, that he wasn’t there. He would be a boss’s dream. She walked in the shop and her eyes had to take a moment to adjust. Finally, she saw Sean’s outline standing over a bike. He was holding a small notepad and pencil. The bike looked pretty sweet—it couldn’t have been older than a year or two. “Hey, Sean!”
He turned around. “Nicki. How’s it going?”
Her eyes were still adjusting to being out of the sun, and as they were, she noticed someone else behind Sean on the other side of the bike. Someone tall…someone named Carlos.
He smiled at her and walked over. “Nicki, mi dulzura. What a welcome surprise to see you here. What are you doing in a place like this?” He held out his hands as he got near and she thrust hers out in return. He held one, but the right hand he brought up to his mouth and kissed.
She grinned. “I should ask you the same question.”
“I went to leave this morning as planned but my bike had other ideas. I called around and found out that Mr. Ramsey here is the best in town, so here I am.” He released her hand. “Your turn.”
“Sean just so happens to be a very good friend of mine.” She lowered her voice. “Probably my best friend, but don’t tell him that. I don’t want it to go to his head.”
Carlos flashed a white smile. “Well, if it takes your best friend more than a day to fix my bike, it looks like I’m going to be looking for companionship again this evening. Are you free, mi dulzura?”
She was really starting to like the way this guy treated her, calling her sweet in an exotic tongue, drinking her in with his eyes every moment. It made her instantly horny. “I think I can be. It’s another night like last night, only Wednesdays are busier. But I’m free after I’m done there. Sometime after eleven.”
“What do you say? Are you game?” Hell, yeah, she was game, but his cell phone rang. “Excuse me a moment.” Carlos walked out of the garage into the hot sun. She checked out his ass. Mmm…nice.
God, she felt giddy again after finally calming down enough this morning to act like a professional. She turned around, hoping she’d managed to wipe the shit-eating grin off her face. Sean looked up from the bike. “You know that guy?”
Nicki shrugged her shoulders and walked closer. “Yeah.”
Sean squatted, looking at the bike up close. “How’d you meet him?”
“At Napoli.”
“How long have you known him?”
Nicki swallowed. Why the third degree? “Since last night.” Sean shook his head and jotted something on his pad. Time for Nicki to change the subject. She didn’t feel like getting grilled. “So…get this. I wait down at the police station for almost an hour this morning until this fucking detective decides to grace me with his presence. Then, when he finally talks to me, he tells me he can’t tell me a damn thing!”
Sean looked up at her. “Don’t look at me. You know how I feel about cops.”
Nicki nodded. “So he told me I had to talk to the DA to get more info. He did tell me, at least, that Edwards is out on bail. So I went to the DA’s office. They didn’t make me sit around, but they did say I have to talk to the Assistant DA Paul Sanders, and he can’t see me until tomorrow. So, maybe a tiny article today that he’s out on bail, but maybe I’ll have more stuff tomorrow—something for a big story.”
“I hope so.” Sean was distracted. Fine. Nicki knew better—he had a bike in front of him that needed his full adoration and attention. Nicki was no competition.
“Well, I’m going to see if Neal wants me to write something up on today or not. See you later.”
Sean grunted something but was really into the bike. Jesus, he could at least say goodbye. What the fuck was his problem? Not hers, and she started to walk back toward the front of the shop. Carlos was just coming in and this time he grabbed her about the waist. He was quiet. “So can I call you later and let you know what’s going on?”
She smiled. “You better.” Carlos kissed her, a deep, toe-curling kiss, holding her in that tight embrace he’d introduced to her last night.
“Until then, mi dulzura.”
Chapter Eight
LO AND BEHOLD, Nicki did get that call. She was at Napoli, and he called after five. So the miracle worker Sean wasn’t able to fix Carlos’s bike in one day’s time? Nicki couldn’t muster up any tears about that. “But I do have some bad news, mi dulzura.”
“What’s that?”
“I checked out of my hotel room this morning. I’m staying with some generous friends. But it’s a bit…crowded here. I can get another room if you’d like, but I can assure you that you don’t want to come over here.” His voice sounded guttural. “I want you all to myself.”
God, he gave her shivers. “I have my own place.” Precisely why she’d gotten rid of roommates four years ago. Apartment walls were thin, especially in your own apartment. She didn’t like hearing her roommates having the time of their lives when she was alone, and she didn’t like the idea of them overhearing when she told a guy at the top of her lungs to fuck her like there was no tomorrow. Having her own place was pure freedom and worth every penny of the two extra jobs. “Why don’t you meet me there after work?”
He agreed—he did have access to a vehicle, thanks to his friends—and she gave him the address. He would be there around eleven and sit tight until she arrived. Luckily, she had Deanna on the floor tonight, and Deanna was a great waitress. She wasn’t much on teamwork, but she always managed to pull her own weight. Brian was there too, but his lameness was counterbalanced by Deanna. And, it turned out, he wasn’t half-bad tonight anyway. So, in spite of how busy they were, Nicki was able to leave a few minutes before eleven.
She didn’t see Carlos leaning against the black truck in front of the building. Nicki didn’t pay much attention to the vehicles in front of the building anyway, because she had new neighbors every few months, so why bother to get to know them?
The complex was noisy tonight. It sounded like several of the tenants were playing in the pool on the other side of the building Nicki was in, and they were being loud. Nicki knew some of the older tenants would be calling the cops later if the rowdy bunch didn’t settle down. The noise distracted her, though, so she didn’t hear Carlos walking behind her. As she inserted the key into the lock in her ground floor apartment, she felt hands slide around her waist, making her gasp with fear at first. But then she realized who it must be, and his lips on her bare neck confirmed it. She unlocked the door, turned the knob, and it creaked open, but she felt paralyzed. She couldn’t even turn around. She just bent her neck to give Carlos better exposure as a tiny groan escaped her lips.
His left hand moved from her waist and cupped her right breast, and even through the heavy fabric of her shirt, she felt her nipple harden at his attention. His other hand moved to her waistband, where he began unbuttoning her pants. What was he doing? She didn’t want him to get into her pants in front of her apartment, but she couldn’t ask him to stop. It felt too good. And her outside light was off, so there was no spotlight on the activity. So when his fingers found their way under the snug confines of her panties, she felt her breathing grow heavier, and she just let herself go. Carlos’s lips and tongue still ravished her neck. “Come for me, mi dulzura.” Her right arm dropped the purse in her hands and she lifted it up, winding her fingers through his hair.
“Mmmm,” she purred, getting closer.
“That’s right.” His other hand had unbuttoned the top one on her shirt and had made its way inside, and it was working the same magic on her nipple that the other was doing to her clit. She felt herself coming and grabbed on to the doorjamb, stuffing her mouth onto her forearm to stop herself from waking any neighbors who might be asleep.
She felt a fine sheen of
perspiration cross her brow as she caught her breath. Carlos extricated his hand from her pants and picked up her purse. Her legs felt like jelly. “So, this is home?”
Nicki managed a smile and pulled the key out of the lock, reaching inside the doorway and turning on the light. “Yep. Mi casa es su casa, right?”
He followed her inside. “Muy bien…very good.”
She took a deep breath and zipped the pants up, not bothering with the button. She didn’t plan on wearing the uniform for too long. “So, can I get you something to drink?”
He declined and sat on a beige chair in her living room. So after Nicki drank a tall glass of water, she returned the favor and gave Carlos a long, drawn-out blow job where he sat, her uniform still on. Then she insisted on a shower. He joined her and shampooed her hair, and then they made love one more time, in her bed of all places. As Nicki drifted off to sleep, she heard the sounds of the pool party dying down at last.
* * *
She awoke the next morning as the sun was starting to fill her room. Carlos was getting out of bed. “Leaving so soon?”
He nodded. “It’s after seven. I need to return the truck to my friends, and I promised to spend breakfast with them. And then I need to call your friend after eight and see how much more time he thinks he’ll need to fix my bike.”
Nicki stretched and sat up, the sheet falling to her waist. “Did he say what the problem is?”
“Mmm…you shouldn’t do that,” he said, looking at her breasts. “It makes it hard to leave.”
Nicki grinned, locking her hands together behind her head, making her breasts more prominent. “Don’t you want to say goodbye first?” And so he did…in the language of love. Luckily for Nicki, he was fluent in that tongue.
After he left, she showered and dressed. She planned today to interview Jason Edwards himself. Neal had let her write a little two-paragraph blurb recapping his case and mentioning that Edwards posted bail, but she needed something for today, and talking to both Edwards and the DA’s office would look great. She was still irritated that they hadn’t talked to her yesterday. Either they were putting her off or they really were busy. Goddamn, she couldn’t wait until she had more clout with the town. She was certain that if her name was as well-known as their star reporter, someone there would have met with her that day. She knew part of that was small-town politics too. It didn’t matter that Winchester was no longer a town—it was more like a small city nowadays—the mentality was still small town. So she’d have to wait until the DA’s office was good and ready.
Got the Life (A Nicki Sosebee Novel) Page 4
