Page 41 of Falling for Carla

“I took a bullet for the chief, saved Heather’s dad’s life. Let’s say I called in a favor.”

“So it cost you a bullet wound to get this picnic and wine tasting?”

“I didn’t actually offer an exchange at the time,” I said with a chuckle. “I just protected my chief when a firefight broke out.”

“What, you didn’t stop and say, you wanna get shot or you gonna promise me a picnic on your daughter’s day off?” she laughed, doing her best Jersey accent.

“I didn’t think that far ahead,” I said. “He was leading the mission and we were closing in on some pretty nasty drug smugglers. His brain was more important to the sting than my leg was.”

“So you’ve always been a hero is what you’re saying.”

I shook my head. “Nope, just a man who did his job.”

She smiled. “Well you seem to take every job you do very seriously.” She wiggled her eyebrows and I had to laugh.

I took a quick inventory in my mind of everything we did, all we’d shared so far. I’d had her in the shower, on the table, on my desk, in bed in every possible position, and I had awakened more than once to her mouth on my cock. I could die a happy man.

“Everything we do is phenomenal, Carla. I’ve never been so—I don’t even know how to say it without sounding stupid.”

“Bruh, I watch Hallmark movies, the Christmas ones. So nothing you say is going to seem cheesy to me,” she said.

“Did you call me bruh?”

“Yeah,” she laughed.

“Never call me that again,” I deadpanned, and she cracked up laughing.

“I could call you sir, but that sounds a little too S&M for my taste.”

“Just call me Drake,” I said. “I like hearing you say my name.”

“Drake. I like saying it. I like knowing I’m allowed to say it. Before I knew you, Brenda and I called you Professor Hottie.”

“I think I prefer ‘bruh’,” I teased.

She squeezed my hand, lacing our fingers together. “I really like this,” she said, the sincerity in her voice so sweet that it almost lost my breath.

I checked my GPS. We were about fifteen minutes out from the vineyard and running ahead of schedule. We had some extra time. I glanced at her, checked the rearview mirror. I got of I-80 at an exit I knew. I’d done a stakeout near Crockett about six years ago, and when we needed a nap, we’d head out to this exit and park on a field road, overgrown with brown and gold grass, and nobody would bother us. I parked behind an old billboard for fast food, the sparse traffic miles away and nobody around at all.

Carla already had her seatbelt off when I reached for her. Lush and welcoming, her cheeks were pink from the fresh air, and her eyes bright. I was kissing her as I rolled up the window and locked the doors. Safety first, after all. I wasn’t about to be caught with my pants down and put her in danger. We were secluded, there was nobody around, and we were safe in the car. I even had tinted windows, so there wouldn’t be any way for a passing vehicle to see what was going on while we steamed up the place. I cupped her cheek in my hand and kissed her, all the hunger and passion spilling out.

“I need you,” I said hoarsely, and I meant it. I pushed my seat back and she climbed into my lap.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” she said, and I nipped at her lips, hungry for her, almost frantic. Her knees settled on either side of my hips in the driver’s seat, and I reached between us, unzipped my jeans to free my throbbing hard on. Carla unbuttoned the tiny pearl buttons on her white blouse. I reached up and parted the fabric, taking her full, bare breasts in my hand like a gift. I fondled them, unable to take my eyes off her pretty pink nipples, the tan smoothness of her skin. I sucked a rosebud nipple and felt the way she tensed and arched against me as I worked her with my lips and tongue and teeth. Her hands were braced on my shoulders, but when I drew her nipple deep in my mouth and sucked, her fingers fisted in my hair. A jolt of pleasure went through me from her responsiveness.

She said, “yes” and I gathered her closer to me, nipping at her breasts, tasting them, glorying in the fact that they were right there in front of my face where I could touch them and suck them all I wanted. She lowered herself into my lap as if holding herself up on her knees was too much with the pleasure I was delivering her. I reached around and grabbed her ass, settling her in my lap the way I wanted her. Then I felt it, her bare skin, the smear of wetness against my cock. She was naked beneath her skirt. The prim navy fabric hid her slick, bare pussy. I groaned, my head going back against the headrest. I rucked up her skirt, my hands sliding up her thighs and gripping her hips.

I notched my cock at the entrance to her passage, her slippery lower lips parting to take me inside. I jerked her down my length, plunging into her deeply, stuffing her full until I was balls deep inside of her. Sheathed as I was inside her body, Carla could only rock and push, breathless, too stretched by my thickness and length to do more than strain and try to rock against me. I pumped into her, giving her short, hard thrusts as my cock flared and swelled in her wet sex.

She might be on top, but I was in the driver’s seat. In full control. I held her hips and rolled them so she rode me while swiveling her hips, giving me a delicious sensation. I wasn’t ready for the kiss she gave me, the way she slipped her hands out of my hair and wrapped her arms around my neck, drawing closer to me, and kissed my lips.

She pressed her mouth to mine, and our tongues mated as she swiveled her hips and when I rocked against her, slow and deep, she came apart on top of me, shuddering, clenching my cock and gripping it like she’d never let go. It was so intense that I saw stars. I gritted my teeth and growled as I came, sharp and earth-shaking. I gasped to catch my breath and wondered if I should apologize for pulling over during a romantic day trip to go fuck her in the car behind a billboard. Judging by the way she had collapsed on me, the way her face was buried in my shoulder, she didn’t seem to mind it.

Her trembling stopped after a few minutes and still I held her close. She sank against me, and I felt her breath fan against my throat. I palmed her head, my fingers twisting absently in the curls that had escaped during our tryst. I leaned my cheek against her head and thought how perfectly she fit me, how she seemed made for me to hold this way.

I drew a ragged breath and let go of her. She smiled up at me and with my help she got back into her seat and straightened her clothes enough to she didn’t look a mess. She checked her reflection in the mirror and then fished in her purse for makeup and touched up her appearance. We had smeared her lipstick, and her eye makeup was smudged. She fixed a pin to get her hair back up. I sat and watched her the entire time, just drinking in the sight of Carla making these small, specific adjustments to cover our tracks. I could see the red mark just inside her collar where I had sucked her neck as she rode me. I reached over and adjusted the fabric to cover it. Our eyes met and a spark traveled between us, that knowing look, a shared secret. Her dark eyes undid me. I made my own adjustments and fastened my seatbelt. We were back on I-80 in no time and soon we reached the vineyard.

Seven Stars Vineyard had been on the verge of bankruptcy when a group of local investors bought it and hired Heather to manage the operation. She had helped bring it back from the brink and her stewardship had garnered several prizes for the local merlot. I looked forward to showing the place to Carla and had one of those sudden rushes of romance as I thought of walking hand-in-hand with her down rows of vines, her face turned up to mine in the sunlight, the swish of her skirt in the breeze. It felt like a perfect possibility. Something I might remember all my life. I was getting uncomfortably used to the idea of never forgetting Carla, of never being able to let her go.

---