Carabella Ch. 04byDawnJ©
Cara felt herself warm all over at his words, and she had to concentrate in order to remember what she was doing. Good grief, she thought as she turned again and reached for two bowls in which to empty the bags of popcorn, I'm as light-headed as a schoolgirl on her first date! She got them down, but Rick was not apparently inclined to let her go. When she turned back once more, he took the bowls from her and kissed her soundly. She told herself she was using him as an anchor so she wouldn't fall when her arms went round his neck and held him closer, but she knew it was a bold-faced lie, because she also used them to pull him in so she could deepen the kiss and feel more of him.
"We..." she struggled to find words to break the spell. Closing her eyes and dropping her arms, she tried again. "Aren't we going to watch the movie?"
Rick inhaled deeply, and released her slowly, but shooed her away when she tried to get the bowls.
"Go set it up! I'll do the food!" And as she walked away, he added, "Want butter?"
"Yes, thanks!" She might as well live dangerously with the butter, since she was well beyond the danger mark in this relationship with her professor, she argued with herself as she set the DVD into the slot. And she might as well go for broke she added recklessly, as she dimmed the lights.
"Here we are then!" Rick's voice sounded above her left ear as she sat down.
He sat next to her, placing her bowl next to her on the little table, and his own on the center table in front of them. He picked up the remote control and pressed "Play", and then settled back, making no bones about draping his arm across her shoulders and pulling her closer to him. He stretched his legs out in front of him, and let her pull her feet up under her.
"This is comfy!" she said, and he could hear the nervous tension in her voice, though she made no attempt to remove his hand or move away.
When she reached for her popcorn, he got it and settled it on her lap.
"Ready?" he asked her, and when she nodded, he turned the volume up and settled his back against the seat. The familiar music began and he could hear her humming it as the movie began. He found he couldn't keep his eyes on the screen, but kept looking down into her face to watch her expressions, which ranged from amusement to annoyance to derision. He marveled at the fluidity of her features, at her relaxed pose, at her total absorption in the events unfolding before her eyes. To look at her, one would never know she had seen it before, and yet there was a knowing about her that made her comments amusing.
Rick found his lust for Cara growing as he sat there, his arm around her shoulder, his eyes on her face. He hardly knew where they were in the movie from moment to moment, and his popcorn remained untouched. He really wanted to take it slow with her, but his body was crying out for more than a taste of her mouth. Where her body rested lightly against his, he burned, and every time she moved, the flame grew hotter. He found his hands tightening on her shoulders, and by the time Elizabeth was refusing Darcy's first proposal of marriage, their faces wet with rain, Darcy's eyes full of heat and passion, he was as wound up as the pair on the screen.
He watched her face as the couple stared heatedly at each other, and the look of longing stunned him. What he wouldn't give for her to look at HIM that way! He moved, putting his other arm around her and hugging her, wanting to start something he had said he wouldn't. He tilted her head, though, and stared into her eyes, before taking her slightly parted lips between his own, and starting a seduction of her senses that took them well beyond any hope of ignoring the heat between them. By the time she had her arms around his neck, demanding as she gave searing kisses, Elizabeth and Darcy had long spoken their love and sealed it with kisses as well.
"Bella," he whispered, amusement and lust warring in his tone, "we need to make a plan. We can't go on like this, and I'll be damned if I let you go!"
Cara stirred in his arms. By now, she was half lying on the couch, her bottom on his lap. She was trembling uncontrollably, her desire for him more pressing and compelling than anything she had ever felt, her ability to control it shot to hell. She was grateful that he seemed to be able to control his own, or she knew where this foreplay would end.
"Why do you call me 'Bella'?" she asked, out of the blue, surprising herself and, she suspected, him.
"It's your name, beautiful!" he said, feathering kisses across her forehead and eyes.
"My name is Carabella," she answered amusedly.
"A mouthful," he said, "like the rest of you!"
Before she could speak again, he stopped her by the simple introduction of his tongue between her kiss-swollen lips. Cara felt every nerve in her body, like pinpoints of light, as his hand smoothed over her thighs, and as he pressed himself against her backside.
"So, you don't like mouthfuls, then?" she wondered hoarsely, between hot kisses.
A hand reached down to fondle the swell of her breast under the T-shirt.
"I'd love a mouthful of this," he answered her, and lowered his head to take it, through the cloth of her top.
Cara could not restrain the moan that flew from her. He suckled her nipple through the shirt, and when he felt her shudder, he moved it up and so exposed the thin bra she wore, wet through from his mouth. She watched his eyes darken as he stared at her, and when he renewed the assault, she groaned harshly and arched into his mouth. His teeth scraped searingly over the hard point, and his tongue swept in behind to soothe the burning flesh.
"God, I could eat you up!" he confessed, shifting his own body, and moving her so her other breast was exposed to his gaze and his hungry mouth.
Cara felt his mouth renew the assault on the other breast, while his shaking hand squeezed and rubbed the well-tended first one. She was helpless against his ministrations, wanting him so fiercely now that it was all she could manage to keep herself from begging him to take more. Her age, their situation as student and teacher -- nothing seemed to matter but this one moment, this one deep, dark need. When she felt his hand slide down over her belly to the waistband of her jeans, she rejoiced silently, even as she held herself still, waiting for the invasion that would make her mindless.
"You're killing me, you know," she murmured huskily, when he let his hand just sit under the button of her jeans, not moving it, torturing her belly and that little spot that screamed for his touch now.
She felt his smile against her mouth but he let his hand just sit, while he devoured her everywhere else. She found she could barely hang on to him, her arms felt so heavy. She let him have her tongue, arched for him so he could better reach the tender swell of her breasts and the curve of her neck. And all the while she could feel him press his erection against her, tormenting her as she ground herself against him. Finally, his trembling fingers pulled the button of her jeans and he slid his hand under both jeans and panties to tease the now wet slit. She could smell her arousal as he fondled her lightly there, not touching her clit, not even venturing too far between those wet lips, just spreading them and making her squirm and writhe and try to get him to do more.
"If I do what your hips keep telling me to do, we'll both be in very deep trouble, Bella!" he whispered.
"My hips don't lie!" she quipped, and felt his answering chuckle roll over her.
"No belly dancing, either, you temptress! My poor hormones can't stand any more!"
"Fortunately for you, I'm no Shakira!" she said, sliding her lips over the hard jut of his chin, letting her tongue leave a trail of heat in its wake.
Pulling his head down for another kiss, she opened her legs, and felt the jeans press his fingers further into her slit. She moaned, and Rick rewarded her by pushing in further, finally touching the hardening nub, she swore it caught fire when he touched it, and he drove her crazy with his light taps and circles.
"Rick..." She was begging him to touch her, but she couldn't seem to find an ounce of shame or embarrassment.
"Bella, if you don't want me to stay all night, I need to leave now!" His voice was tortured, as he rested his forehead against hers, stilling his teasing hand and sliding it out of her underwear. He hugged her, and she could feel the fine trembling that he was trying to control.
He sighed deeply. "Like I said, we need a plan. Tomorrow's Friday. Dinner?"
Cara shook her head. "Girls' night out! I'm to bring the casserole and a dessert. In fact, I was supposed to be cooking it tonight."
"I'd like having dessert with you," he whispered sexily. "Fact is, I'd like YOU for dessert!"
Cara shivered at his tone, and he kissed her, as though he couldn't help himself.
"How about Saturday?" he persisted. "Breakfast? Lunch? Dinner? All of them?"
"I was planning a run up to visit my mother," she said into his neck, kissing him there, loving the way his skin warmed her cheeks.
"I'll take you, and you can introduce me," he suggested immediately.
When Cara hesitated, Rick moved, taking the opportunity to put a little bit of distance between their heated bodies. He knew he had to cool off before he left, and he knew he had to leave soon.
"Why does the thought of introducing me to your mother terrify you?" he asked, settling her on the couch beside him, and turning her face up to his.
"I am not terrified!" she snapped, but her eyes grew shadowed.
Rick made her look at him. "So tell me, why the hesitation, then?"
"She will make assumptions!" she said baldly, and stared back at him. "We are only just getting to know each other, Rick! I don't want her thinking..."
"That we're an item? That we're in love? That I'm to be her new son-in-law?"
His words battered against the part of her that Cara kept hidden from the world, barricaded against assault and pain.
"What's so bad if she thinks any of those things? Hmmm? We both know what we feel, and who we are."
"There's a lot you don't know about me, Rick," she said wearily, resignedly.
"So tell me on the way up there. In fact, you can start telling me at lunch tomorrow. I know you'll be on campus."
Cara looked at him in surprise. "How do you know that?" she asked sharply.
"I have my ways," he said smugly. "You have no idea how you have bewitched me, young lady, and it's payback time!"
He bent suddenly and covered her mouth with his own. This kiss was slow and hard and deep, catching her off guard. But before she could respond as she wanted to, he pulled back from her.
"So, want help with the casserole? Four hands are better than two, you know!" His grin split his cheeks, and she laughed.
"I wouldn't want to bother you, Rick," she said, "especially since I assume you have preparations to make for tomorrow's classes."
"How do you know I have classes tomorrow?" he asked, the ghost of a smile on his lips.
"I have my ways," she echoed him, and he burst out laughing.
"It's fine. They're afternoon classes. I can sleep in. Come on, tell me how I can help before I go!"
Cara stood and pulled him up with her. Leading him into the kitchen, she found things for him to do, as she prepared the casserole, made the creamy confection she was famous for at her friends' potlucks, and sipped more sherry. At every turn, Rick touched her -- lingering, sweet, sensual touches wherever his hungry fingers landed -- and by the time the casserole was ready to be placed in the oven, he had her pressed up against the center island counter, her body warm and hungry for him, his mouth devouring her, their moans heating up the already steamy air.
"Bella, I need to go, love," he whispered brokenly. "Now!"
"Why?" Cara should have been horrified to hear the question, and the tone in which she asked it, but she was too busy trying to get her hand around the evidence of Rick's own glaring need for her.
"You know it's too soon, don't you, love?" He laid his forehead against hers, breathing harshly, trying to keep his hands off her breasts, off her.
"Maybe, but if you touch me, just one more time, I'll let you go, okay? I promise!"
She felt no shame for begging. Her flesh reeled from the need for his touch, her hands burned to touch him.
He slid his arms around her, trying desperately to keep them above her waist, away from the places she wanted to feel him, and she growled at him. He laughed softly.
"You're a wild one when you're aroused, aren't you, missy?" He kissed the tip of her nose, and when she turned up her mouth, he groaned and kissed her hungrily.
"One touch, Rick!" Her flesh rejoiced when he slid his hand down the line of her hips and gripped her bottom, pulling her into him. She went willingly, and reveled in his hard hands on her flesh, in his hard erection in her crease.
"So, lunch tomorrow? My office!" Rick pulled away from her. "My treat, okay?"
Cara nodded, unable to speak, and unwilling to try, for fear she begged again. He was right, of course, to hold off, while she was forgetting herself for lust. Morning would come, she thought as she walked with him to her door, and watched him get into his car and drive away, and Rick would see sense, and realize that they couldn't have anything real together, but she would still be able to hold her head high, if she didn't beg now.
Next day, she spent the morning trying to prepare the document he wanted her to complete, and then to do some writing for her class, but she was distracted, and could hardly focus. When the great clock in the college chapel bell tower tolled the noon hour, she rose reluctantly and went to his office. Outside his door, she hesitated. He might not be there -- they hadn't decided when "lunch time" would be. Maybe she should wait. Maybe she...
The door opened wider, and a student walked out, smiling at her as he passed. She could hear him moving around inside, and if she moved a step to her right, she was sure she would see him.
"Come in, Bella!" he called out to her, effectively cutting off the retreat she was about to make. How in the world did he know she was out there?
"Hi!" she said stepping inside and hesitating by the door.
He walked over to her and closed the door behind her. Pulling her to him, he laved her lips with his eager, hungry tongue, kissing her mindless before letting them both up for air.
"Maybe we should eat the food I brought for lunch, or else YOU'LL be lunch, baby!"
His voice was hoarse, his eyes dark with increasing desire for a taste of her.
"So, what did you bring?" She managed to squeeze the question past her dry throat, and step away from him to sit at his worktable in the chair there.
"Rick's homemade power sub!" he announced, and placed a huge sandwich in front of her. He opened the package, and revealed a twelve-inch sub, with bacon, lettuce, tomatoes, and a spicy-sweet mustard dressing. She could smell the tempting flavors, and suddenly she was ravenous. Was that onions she was smelling as well? She took a bite, and the pleasurable tastes burst on her tongue.
"Mmmmm!" she moaned. "This is good, Rick!" She reached for a napkin, a few of which he had set next to the sandwich, to clean the smudge of mustard from the corners of her mouth, but Rick stopped her.
"Lick it off, Bella! Please!"
His voice was hoarse, and his eyes watched her as she obliged, the movement of her tongue the most erotic thing she had ever done. Why that was she couldn't fathom, unless it had something to do with the man who was watching as she licked herself clean, the look of a cat waiting to pounce in his eyes. She felt the heat of an unexpected arousal beginning to creep up her cheeks, and she lowered her eyes to the sandwich, but before she could take another bite, to distract herself, she felt Rick's tongue where hers had been.
The flash fire of heat that arced over her seared her where she sat, as still as a stone in a quiet pool. He raised her head with a finger under her chin, and asked, his voice casual, his eyes not,
"Sure you can't cry off the girls' night out tonight?"
Her eyelids fluttered closed as he licked her again, this time across her full bottom lip. She fought to contain the moan, this one so different from the one that had escaped her when she had taken that first bite. Trying to focus on his question when he was slowly driving her insane with his tongue was a feat deserving of much more credit than she would ever receive.
"Why?" She was startled at the huskiness of her voice, and she cleared her throat.
"I want you!" he answered simply. "And I'm not sure I can wait as long as tomorrow night!"
She dragged her eyes open again, despite the havoc he was playing with the nerve endings in her earlobes.
"Tomorrow?" She frowned and drew away, as much as he would let her. "What were you planning for tomorrow?"
"To seduce you into my bed, when we got home from your mother's."
Another simple, honest answer, and she was flummoxed.
"When was I going to be told about this plan?" she asked, wishing she could sound outraged, instead of really turned on.
"When I seduced you, baby!" he chuckled. "It would have been crystal clear to you then!"
He finally moved away from her, and she collapsed bonelessly against the back of the seat. She could find nothing to say to that piece of arrogance, and found she had to resist the urge to smile at his romantic tenacity.
"Maybe we should have had lunch at your place, then, since I'm sure the university would be appalled to know what you do with your female students in your office!"
His eyes flared, and then darkened. Before she knew it, Cara was being hustled out the door, across the campus to his car. She did not protest. Somehow, she knew this was really what she had wanted when she had made that comment. She sat meekly as he drove, not noticing particularly where they were headed, because she could not take her eyes off his hands, one on the steering wheel, the other on the gear shift. They were big man's hands, long-fingered and rope-veined, nails blunt cut and clean, the signet ring on his right hand winking as the sunlight hit it.
He lived on a quiet street, a cul-de-sac, his house the last one in the back, with woods behind it, and she knew, because she often hiked in them, a large lake behind the woods. As the garage door closed behind them, the engine stilled, and Cara felt immediately the potency of the tension stretching between them. She felt his gaze on her in the cool dimness of the garage, and she began to babble before he could speak.
"Won't you be late for your afternoon class?"
She stole a look at him then, and gasped when he pulled her to him and kissed her hard and deep, pushing his tongue past her teeth and suckling hers hungrily.
"I'll eat on the way back. It's at 3:30." He kissed her again, and then added, "Come inside now! I need you!"
He got out of the car and came around the front to get her, kissing her again against the side of the car before pulling her away to close the door. He opened the door to the house and Cara walked into a largish kitchen, sunny in the midday, with cheerful yellow curtains at the windows and a bouquet of roses on the little round table in the corner. She had no time to look further before she was being pulled along a hallway to the back of the house, to a large, high-ceilinged bedroom in which a California king-sized bed ruled supreme.
Rick's hands on her bottom, pulling her into him, distracted her from the elegant masculinity of the room. He was hard, and ready for her, and not willing to wait any longer.
"I wake up in the middle of the night," he informed her as he slowly shifted her top over her head, "and I'm so hard, it hurts, because I've been dreaming about you."