This is Chapter Two in a story, but it can be read as a stand alone. Hope you enjoy!
Chapter Two
“I’m not saying you should fuck him, but I’m saying you should fuck him.” Angie, Cara’s best friend, took a sip of her drink. “He sounds perfect for you.”
“Ew, no relationships.” Cara wrinkled her nose. “I am not looking to date.”
“Nope, just looking to make out with your handsome neighbor, and then let him hear you getting off thinking about him. I agree. No dating. Just fucking.”
“Jesus, Angie!” Cara choked on her wine and looked around the busy restaurant. “We’re in public.”
Angie grinned. She liked pushing Cara’s somewhat prudish buttons. They’d been friends since the fifth grade. When Cara met Ethan, Angie knew it would never work. She recognized a soul sucker when she met one. But there was no way she could tell her best friend who was walking around with little hearts in her eyes.
Cara’s light faded over the years with him until finally, they both figured out how miserable they were and ended things.
It was Ethan who made Cara miserable, Angie loyally knew.
“I’ve seen him carry groceries from his car. Nice forearms.”
“I never should have said anything.”
Angie waved that off. “Nonsense, you have to tell me everything. This is all new and exciting. I had no idea you had such unexplored depths.”
Cara laughed, “Me either.”
“Invite him over for dinner, proposition him, start the fucking. Men are simple creatures…”
“Says the lesbian.”
“Exactly. If I wanted something simple, I would date men. Women are more complicated, with unexpected layers. Like a delicate trifle.” Angie leaned back in her seat. “As long as you’re having fun, you’re being safe, and its consensual, do whatever you want. But you have to promise me you’ll tell me everything.”
“Deal.”
***
It took nerve for her to send him a text message. After their exchange two weeks before, they had texted a few times, all casual. As if Sunday night had never happened. Maybe he wanted to pretend it never happened.
Damnit, there was Ethan sliding into her thoughts like a Twitter troll heading for someone’s DMs. Not today, Satan.
Cara pulled out her phone and typed, “Free for dinner Friday evening? I don’t cook but I order pizza like a champ.”
Her nerves had three seconds to frazzle before her phone buzzed. “Absolutely! Dessert?”
“Your choice.”
Ok then. She would be seeing Michael on Friday.
***
Fuck him and tell me everything.
Angie’s voice echoed in Cara’s mind as Michael refilled their wine glasses. “Ready for dessert?”
Cara shook her head and sighed, “Oh no, I’m pretty full –”
Michael leaned in and paused inches from her neck. “Not that kind of dessert.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “Oh.”
His lips grazed her neck. “Still full?”
“I don’t want to marry you!” Cara blurted out. Damn her stupid nerves and her stupid mouth which never shut up at the right time.
Michael didn’t run from the house in fear. Instead he leaned back so he could look into her eyes. “Thank god, because I don’t want to marry you.”
“OK.” Cara knew her entire face was beet red, but she had to keep going. “I met my ex when I was twenty-seven and I thought I was an old maid because I was single. I threw myself at him, gave him everything he could possibly want. I kept doing that for fourteen years until I had an epiphany. Ethan never loved me. He loved what I could provide for him. He loved the children I gave him. But he didn’t love me. And he knew it. I’m not going through that again.”
At this point, she had given him every excuse to go barreling out the door and never look back. He could toss the stray hockey pucks back over the fence, nod at her when they were in their yards at the same time and pretend none of this ever happened.
Instead, he leaned in toward her, his voice just a little huskier. “I’ve been divorced for twenty years. I date, but nothing serious. I enjoy the company of a woman, but I don’t expect her to take care of me. Have you been with anyone since your husband?”
Cara shook her head.
Michael’s grin widened. “How bad was he in bed?”
Cara sighed, “He was fine.”
“Fine? Fine is how you describe your day at work. The rush hour traffic. The weather. Sex should never be fine.” Michael moved closer to her, close enough when he spoke, his breath trailed across her neck. “I want to make you come. In a thousand different ways. I want to hear those sweet little gasps and you scream my name. I want you to want to fuck me. I’ve thought about it for the last six months.” He nipped her neck and she whimpered. “You were opening a box and your shirt gapped –”
Cara angled her head, giving him better access to her neck. “Oh god, I remember that day. You were so handsome, and I thought, of course I would look like this.”
“If by “this” you mean sexy, slightly out of breath, with flushed cheeks, and the lushest tits I’ve seen, then yes that’s exactly how you looked.” He licked up her neck and bit her ear lobe ever so gently. “I’ve dreamt of those tits. How they would feel in my hands, on my tongue, on my cock.”
He went on, soft kisses along her neckline and up the other side. His breath hissed hot in her ear, “Can I kiss you, Cara?”
“Yes,” she breathed.
He sucked on her earlobe. “Can I kiss you anywhere I want?”
Need, fiery and desperate, rushed through her at that question. Louder than she had intended, she gasped, “Oh god, yes!”
Michael grinned, cocky and too sure of himself. Which turned her on, she couldn’t help it. He kissed her, slow and drugging. Long drawn-out kisses that made her sink into him, deeper and deeper.
Inch by inch, he kissed his way from her neck to her collarbone.
She sat up to tug off her shirt. He groaned, “I knew they would be amazing.” And buried his face in her cleavage.
Cara grinned, weaving her fingers through his hair. Her grin turned to a little moan, when he shoved the bra cup out of his way and made contact with her nipple.
Michael smiled up at her, an eyebrow cocked upward, “Can I keep kissing you?”
“Yes.”
In the dimming summer evening light, he took off her clothes, layer by layer until she was spread out on her chaise, completely naked. That he was fully clothed might have bothered her, but the way he looked at her — like she was a banquet, and he hadn’t eaten in days — made her forget all her insecurities.
Dear God, Michael thought, I want her. He wanted to sink inside her, wrap her legs around his hips and fuck her until they were both screaming.
That would come. Eventually.
For now, he simply wanted to worship her. The way she talked about herself; he knew her ex had done a number on her self-esteem. But here she was, despite that, ready and eager for his touch. Unashamedly arching her hips up toward him when he kissed her soft belly, licked along the outside of her thigh.
He kissed his way down on leg, nibbling at the little curve behind her knee, down her delicate ankle. He rubbed his strong hands over the arch of her foot, and she sighed and sank deeper into the cushions.
He kissed up her calf to the inside of her knee, up her sweet sweet inner thigh, jesus, right there, he was so close. And then he skipped down to the other side of her thigh. Cara’s frustrated little whimper made his cock twitch.