Taboo Page 5

  I had shown up at closing, waiting around until the other guard left. Once the lights were out and the gate locked, I pulled him into the changing room. I kissed him, and tugged off his shirt and then his shorts. He was ready, always ready and then I leaned into the wall, resting my forehead on arms and let him discover on his own that there was nothing underneath my dress.

  “Really?” he asked.

  I kissed him in reply, bending over further and feeling his dick run along my sensitive, exposed flesh. I shivered and bit my lip when he finally slid in.

  “Use your hands,” I breathed. He followed directions and made up for his lack of experience with ambition. Between his fingers and mine, I showed him where to touch me, gently and then with more pressure. I came hard, my voice echoing against the cinderblock bathhouse.

  I braced myself for him, both hands on the wall as he grunted low in my ear. I heard my name whispered between the swear words. An angel or the devil, that’s what he must be. I’m still not sure which.

  “I can’t believe you let me do that,” he says, pulling me off the seat and hugging me. I think it’s a ‘thank you for letting me fuck you from behind’ hug. Maybe? No one had ever hugged me after that before.

  “Your next girlfriend will thank me, too,” I say, because she will. She may even send me a note or flowers. Not only did I let him do it, I showed him how to do it right.

  I wave him away and he goes outside and waits while I clean up. Bonus of bathhouse sex? Showers. When I’m clean, we meet up outside, he laces his fingers through mine and asks, “Why do you always talk about other girls? It’s a little weird.”

  “How so?”

  “Girls don’t like to hear about other girls. I may be younger than you, but I’m not stupid.”

  No. He isn’t. I’ve found out that he’s smart. Really smart. Full academic scholarship smart. Pre-Law. He’s thoughtful and kind, even if a bit of a douche at times. I can’t blame him. God gave him looks and smarts and ability. It would be hard to keep it all in check.

  I tighten my hand in his. “I’m not a normal girl,” I say.

  “Thank god for that.”

  I punch him with my free hand but he easily blocks my move. Now he has both my hands in his bigger, stronger ones and there’s no way to escape. I sigh into his chest. “Because I think you’re pretty great, and one day you’ll meet that girl who does it all for you and you’ll get her in the sack and you can treat her like the princess I expect her to be.” And she will be, because he deserves a queen one day. “But in the meantime, you’ll meet and date and sleep with a lot of girls. I’m just teaching you how to have fun. You’re way ahead of the curve.”

  “True,” he agrees. “I’m pretty sure none of my friends have done anything like that.” A smile ghosts over his lips. I think of the boys I’ve seen him hang around with. They’re cute enough, in that ‘one day they’ll grow up’ kind of way. Carter is eons beyond his friends, physically.

  I raise an eyebrow. “Probably not.”

  He leans down and kisses me, the way I like it, the way I showed him, and I feel it down to my toes. He releases my hands and I feel him touching the back of my legs, inching up my thighs and under my skirt. He’s so strong he lifts me in one motion, my legs lock behind his back.

  “I’m pretty sure my friends would be totally jealous right now,” he says between kisses.

  I laugh because yeah, that’s the truth, but then I consider it further and say, “I’m pretty sure mine would be, too.”

  Chapter 15

  Some days, Carter and I barely get the chance to talk to one another. The girls have their off days, fighting and crying with one another, which means we have to leave early. Occasionally it rains and then other days, the pool is packed and he’s forced to do his job.

  We make a game of it. Staring at one another behind darkened shades. I take my time lotioning-up or I drop something on the pool deck. This gives me the opportunity to press his buttons, flashing my ass and chest.

  I always knew I was pretty, but Carter makes me feel beautiful. He makes me feel desired and that’s only one of the perks of our relationship.

  He has his own methods of making me crazy; although I’m not sure he does it on purpose. There’s nothing like seeing him race down the pool, arms stretched wide, back arched in the butterfly. And then there are the times he plays volleyball with his friends and he jumps so high his swim trunks reveal that white skin I love so much. He’s all movement, all the time, and it’s all I can do not to jump in and tackle him.

  But I’m good. I try so hard to be good.

  Sex in the car is fine, just like blow-jobs in the movie theater. Carter has become quite skilled finger-banging me in almost any situation. All we need is a couple of minutes and we both can get off.

  But even all that can be tiresome, and the best surprise comes when Finley and Ryan go to Asheville for the weekend and she offers me the key to her house.

  “You can invite your boy-toy over if you want. Ryan’s cool with it.”

  “Really?” I ask. I’m already imagining the dirty things we can get up to on a bed. Or on the kitchen table or in the shower. “That would be great, thanks.”

  The house is a tiny bungalow in the historic district. Ryan works for the city as an engineer while she finishes school. It may be small but it’s perfect and I’m jealous in so many ways.

  Ironically, we end up back outside on the small screened-in porch. We lie next to one another in the hammock and I press my palm flat against his. “You’re hands are so big,” I comment.

  “You’re kind of tiny,” he says, enveloping my hand completely.

  I laugh. “You’re sort of enormous.”

  “I like being able to carry you around,” he says, lifting me so I’m lying on top of him.

  “You know, those moms at the pool would freak out if they knew we were screwing each other.”

  “The moms?”

  “You know they’re all hot for you, right?”

  Strings of Christmas lights provide a hazy glow and I can see Carter’s face turn red. I press the back of my hand to his cheek and feel the heat. “That embarrasses you?”

  “Well, yeah, sort of.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. They’re moms, I guess? Moms shouldn’t be thinking about me like that.”

  “What about me?”

  “You’re not a mom.” He tugs down my tank top and licks the skin between my breasts. He does this all the time, like it’s his favorite and I wonder if the skin there tastes like sugar. “Why would that embarrass me?”

  I give him a look. “The age thing? I’m just as old as they are.”

  “No you aren’t,” he says. “You’re always pointing it out, but you aren’t that old, Ruthie.” He grabs a strand of my hair and sniffs it. He’s always doing weird shit like that and I love it. “I’m glad you’re not like the girls my age. They’re all skinny and only want to talk about clothes and gossip. You’re curvy and…”

  “And what?”

  “Well you only want to talk about sex and have sex and I’m totally okay with that.”

  “That’s not true,” I argue. He makes a face and I laugh. “Okay, fine, that’s sort of true.”

  “I’m kidding. You don’t treat me like a kid, but you’re also fun. We like the same movies and read a lot of the same books. You’re a pretty cool chick.”

  I kiss him on the nose.

  “Plus, you give pretty amazing head.”

  “Those moms want to have sex with you, you know. They’d probably give you head, too. I heard them in the bathroom.” I have no idea why I’m telling him this. Maybe to relieve a little of my own guilt?

  “Yeah, well my friends want to fuck you, too.”

  My jaw drops. “Did you tell them about us?”

  “No, but they’ve seen you at the pool. They notice you, especially when you’re trying to rile me up with all that bending over shit. The whole place gets a hard-on. Not just me.”

  “Oh.”

  “You’re so fucking sexy,” he says, tugging my shirt down further until my breasts pop out. “The day you wore that black bikini, the one with the cherries. You got in the water and it must have been cold because your nipples got hard. Have mercy.”

  I feel powerful and I kiss him, licking his tongue and biting his lip. “Oh, yeah?”

  “You ducked your hair underwater and it fanned around you like a mermaid. Gold like a halo, and when you got out I wanted to suck every drop of water off your body.”

  His cock is now rock hard and his hips press into mine. My panties are wet, mostly from his words. Who knew he could elicit a reaction like that from me? “That would have been lovely,” I tell him and his tongue lights a trail of fire from my neck to my ear.

  He laughs. “It would have been better than the alternative.”

  “What was that?”

  “I sat up there for five more minutes with my balls on fire. When we called adult swim I jerked off in the bathroom.”

  I scrunch my nose. “Really?”

  “Hell yes. You burn me up, girl. I don’t care about those other moms or anyone else.”

  “Like this?” I rest my hand on his cock and release it from his pants. It bobs in freedom, swaying with the rocking hammock.

  “Yep. All the damn time. I’m in a constant state of erection with you around.”

  “Poor baby. I can make it better if you’d like.”

  “Yeah?” he says, eyes lighting up at the prospect.

  “Yep.” I push him back and take him slowly in my mouth. It’s the least I can do.

  *

  It’s three AM and we’re still in the hammock. Something about going inside feels weird so we stay here, rocking back and forth.


  “Did I ever tell you I was engaged?”

  “No,” he says, half muffled. He’d been dozing. “To get married?”

  “Yes, to get married, you doofus.” I pinch him in the arm. “We broke it up right before I moved here.”

  “Why’d you break up?”

  “It just wasn’t working anymore. Sometimes that happens.”

  “He didn’t do anything? Like cheat?”

  “No,” I say, weaving my fingers in his. “I think we just fell out of love.”

  Carter shifts and rolls so I can see his face. His eyes are tried. “How do you know when you fall in love?”

  I run my hand over his chin, feeling his stubble. “You just know, I guess. Like, you see past the other person’s flaws and faults. They still bug you but it’s not a deal breaker the way it would be with someone else. You’re willing to look past it.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever been in love before,” he says, but his voice sounds unsure.

  “It’ll come,” I tell him, kissing him. “And when it happens you’ll know. It’ll hit you in the chest like a ton of bricks. You’ll feel like if you aren’t with that person you can’t breathe.”

  “Like how I can only go so long underwater without taking a breath.”

  “Right, even you, Aqua-Man, have to come up for air at some point.”

  “Aqua-Man?”

  “That’s my nickname for you,” I tell him. “It was either that or Jail Bait.”

  He covers his face with his hand and groans. I cover him in kisses and he wraps his giant arms around me. We rock the rest of the night away.

  Chapter 16

  Two half-empty margarita glasses sit between me and Finley. We’re in a staring contest and I’m pretty sure she’s going to win. If I’ve proven anything this summer, it’s that I’m weak when it comes to Carter.

  “Just invite him,” she says.

  “It feels wrong. And awkward.”

  “It’s just me and Ryan, who I’ve already told about him, you know. He doesn’t care.”

  “I know, but once I introduce him to people then it becomes real. Right now it’s like he’s my secret plaything and it’s sort of pretend.”

  “You’ve had sex in his car, the bathhouse and on the picnic table. His dick has been in your mouth and he drinks your cooch juices. You got past pretend a long time ago. Plus, I let you have sex in my house, so you kind of owe me.”

  I spit a mouthful of margarita back in the glass. “Cooch juices? What is wrong with you?”

  She smirks and takes a big gulp of her drink. “Ruthie, it’s the Fourth of July. Just bring him on the freaking picnic so I have someone to talk to while we watch the fireworks. I’ll bake a pie or something.”

  I’m still not sure. “He probably already has plans. You know, with his friends.”

  Finley dips a chip in the salsa. We’ve gone out for a ‘girl’s night’, which isn’t very different from work other than the lack of sunscreen and more alcohol. “Yeah, right. He’ll give up a night with you and probable sex to hang out with his dorky friends. Just invite him.”

  “Fine.”

  The next day when he’s taking out the trash, I make an excuse to go to my car.

  “Hey,” I say, pretending to casually pass by.

  His eyes perk up. “Hi, what’s up?”

  “Um, so, what are you doing on the Fourth?”

  His whistle is resting on his chest, glinting in the hot sun. “I’m working til about six,” he said.

  “After that?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t gotten that far.”

  I shade my face with my hand and God it’s hard being this close to him and not touch him. I mean, we’re alone but not alone. Those nosy moms could come out here at any time. Or one of the other guards.

  “What are you doing?” he prompts because I still haven’t asked him. The words seem lodged in my throat. Which is stupid because I have no problem lodging his dick in my throat and telling him that when he pinches my nipples just right I could come by that alone, but ask him to a picnic? I become a fucking mute.

  “Finley, wants us to do something with her and her boyfriend, Ryan. Picnic, fireworks,” I say this while scrunching my nose like this is a terrible idea.

  “Oh yeah? That sounds cool.”

  “You think so?”

  “Sure, they’ve got awesome fireworks downtown. I usually go with my friends but I’d rather spend it with you.”

  “You would?”

  He gives me a weird look. “Yeah, silly.” We hear a whistle blow and he says, “I should get back. Remember I’ve got that thing tonight, with my parents? And I’m off tomorrow.”

  He looks around to make sure no one’s watching and he gives me a quick kiss.

  “Yeah, okay. Bye.”

  I wait a minute for him to go in the gate. Bikini mom walks out at the same minute he enters and she gives him a smile and juts out her chest. She stops him, touching his bicep and I clench my fists. Bitch. To Carter’s credit, he didn’t check her out. Well, not really.

  I walk toward the gate, passing Bikini Mom. She’s wearing yellow today and looks like a lemon. Or a banana. Or a jackass. “Everything okay?” she asks.

  I narrow my eyes but just say, “Sure, just getting some extra sunscreen. Hot today, right?”

  “Scorching,” she says, but I can feel her eyes on my back as I walk into the pool.

  *

  The Fourth is on a Friday and I have the day off. But I don’t want the day off. I want my time with Aqua-Man at the pool since we haven’t seen each other in days. When Betsy invites me to hang with them, I jump on it.

  Betsy and Dave are pretty cool. They’re only about ten years older than I am. Dave’s an architect and Betsy works in his office. I found the job through a mutual friend who knew I was moving to the area for school. They needed a nanny and I needed a job and somewhere to live.

  The weirdest part about hanging out with them at the pool and not Finley, is that they sit with the parent crowd. The crowd that I avoid like the plague during the week. Bikini Mom holds court today, wearing a red, white, and blue suit. Tiny white stars cover her ass. They’re all drinking a lot and I have a beer or two, because I’m an adult and off duty, but a couple of them have started acting a little stupid so I keep my distance. I’m preoccupied with Carter anyway. He and I sneak looks at one another all day. After the second beer I find myself getting increasingly horny.

  “Oh shoot,” Betsy says. She’s holding a huge watermelon. “I forgot a knife.”

  “I’ll check the kitchen,” I volunteer, hopping out of my chair. I make my way across the super busy pool deck, dodging kids, floaties, and crying babies. I walk up to Carter and ask, “Do you have a knife we can borrow?”

  I’m tipsy so the words come out a bit more sultry than I intended. It could have been me checking my tan lines and adjusting my bathing suit. The other guard looks down from the stand and coughs. Carter pales. “Yeah, back here.”

  He walks past the kitchen to the pump room and shoves me inside. “What the?” I laugh. It smells like oil and grease but his mouth is on mine and he’s tugging at my top.

  “I missed you,” he breathes into my mouth. He drops his head and kisses my breasts, sucking on one nipple then the other. He knows how sensitive they are and if he plays with them just right, I’ll come standing up.

  “Carter,” I beg, not sure if it’s a demand to stop or continue. He takes it as encouragement, pushing his fingers under the acrylic fabric of my suit.

  “That didn’t take long,” he says about how slick and wet I already am. He pushes one, then another finger inside.

  “Oh god,” I cry into his shoulder, happy the pump is loud.

  “Come on, babe.” For once I do as I’m told and lean my head back against the wall. His fingers work like magic, rubbing and curving at the right angle. I whimper, tiny cries coming out of my open mouth and he whispers, “I’ve got you,” while holding me up. I let go, shattering in a million different pieces as my senses are exposed all at once.

  “Wow,” I say, sliding back to my feet.

  “Yeah.”

  I hear a shriek outside, the kids playing at the pool and I say, “We should go because, shit, my boss is out there looking for a knife and I just got fingered in the pump room. I’m not sure how to explain that.”