The Heat 7

The heat never left. It clung to the walls, the sheets, the air between them--thick, heavy, the kinda sticky summer night where the AC's busted, and you just gotta suffer through it. The fan overhead spun slow as hell, like it couldn't be bothered, and neither of them seemed to care. Outside, the city hummed--distant sirens, somebody shouting "YO!" down the block, the faint bass of a car stereo rattling too hard for the song to come through clear. But Zach? He didn't hear none of that.

He only saw her.

Carrie was stretched out between his legs, her bare thighs tangled with his, propped up on her elbows like she had all the time in the world. Her dark hair, damp from the heat, curled against her shoulders, a few strands sticking to her skin. Golden in the low light, slick with sweat. The dark cleft between those firm fuckin' tits... and her hands--fuck, her hands--slow, teasing, tracing lazy circles along his thigh like she had nothin' better to do than drive him insane.

He swallowed hard, jaw tight. "Carrie--"

"Shh," she murmured, grinning up at him like she had a secret. "I'm busy."

Her fingers ghosted over him, light as air, just enough to make him twitch. Her laugh was low, knowing.

"Sensitive, huh?"

He exhaled, hands gripping the sheets. "You know I am."

She hummed, pleased with herself. "Mmm. I do." Her palm pressed down, fingers wrapping around him--barely, just barely enough. "Aww, babe. So cute."

His breath hitched. "Jesus Christ, Carrie--"

"I love this," she purred, voice thick with amusement. "Love how--" she paused, biting back a grin, fingers barely flexing, "compact you are. Just fits so nice in my hand."

He groaned, head dropping back against the pillow. "Carrie."

She giggled, pressing a playful kiss just above his hip. "You know I gotta mess with you."

His eyes snapped back to her. And there she was, looking at him like that, smirking, eyes dark, loving him in that wicked way that made him crazy. Made him burn.

"God," she whispered, dragging her thumb in the slowest, meanest little circle. "You're perfect."

His hands twitched, aching to grab her, to shut her up. But she was in control. She knew it. Owned it.

The night outside carried on--horns, voices, some oldhead arguing about the Phillies on his stoop--but in here? Just her. Her hands, her voice, the unbearable heat between them.

She tilted her head, breath ghosting over his skin. "Bet you were worried, huh?"

He blinked down at her, dazed. "What?"

She grinned, fingers working him just slow enough to keep him on edge. "Bet you thought some girl might laugh, might not love you the way I do." Another kiss to his hip, softer now. "But I do. Love all of you, babe."

His throat bobbed. Something raw, real, settled in his chest. "I know."

"Yeah, you do." Her smirk sharpened. "Still, I love watchin' you lose it when I get my hands on you."

His breath came hard. "I love it. Love you."

Carrie's smirk softened--just a little. "Yeah, babe," she murmured, pressing another kiss against his skin. "I know."

She let the moment stretch, watching the way his chest rose and fell, the way his lips parted, the way his eyes never left her. And then, because she was her, she sighed all dreamy-like.

"You know," she mused, fingers stroking, barely movin' but enough to make him twitch, "Adelina never made noises like this."

His breath caught hard. "Fuck, Carrie--"

She grinned. He loved this.

"I mean, she was nice. Real sweet girl." A slow, indulgent stroke, her voice light, like they were just talkin' about what to order from Lennies tomorrow. "Just quiet. So polite." She gave him a mock frown. "Honestly, babe? Kinda boring."

Zach groaned, hands clenching the sheets. He was dying for her.

Carrie smirked. "Bridgette though? The astrophysicist?" A slow roll of her wrist. "She was loud. All numbers and theories until I got my hands on her, then suddenly? Real good at beggin'."

His head tipped back against the pillow. Ruined.

She laughed, breath warm against his skin. "But you, babe? You're my favorite."

He shuddered. Barely holding on. "Jesus, Carrie--"

Her voice dropped, wicked, knowing. "Love watchin' you fall apart for me. Love how hard you try to hold out, like you got a chance."

Her fingers stilled for just a second--just to hear the broken sound he made.

And then she picked up again, slow, so slow. "But you don't, babe. Not with me."

She let the tension stretch, let him sit in it, right at the edge. Then, with the smirk of a woman who had too much power, she sighed dramatically.

"Dom never had this problem."

Zach's breath hitched hard.

Her grin stretched. She knew. She knew he was waiting for it.

"Mmm, yeah. Big Dom," she mused, voice syrupy with nostalgia. "Not just big in name, either." Her fingers traced teasing little circles. "He could go forever. I mean, just relentless. Nine fuckin' inches. And I do mean fuckin'!"

Zach made a noise--half groan, half curse--and she soaked it in.

"I'd tap out before he did, babe. Can you imagine?" She grinned, biting her lip like she was really picturing it. "Me? Tapping out?"

His fingers twitched in the sheets, possessive, his breath ragged.

Carrie leaned in close, lips just brushing his skin. Too soft. Too sweet.

"But y'know what, babe?" Her fingers gripped just a little tighter. "You're the one I kept."

His whole body shuddered.

She hummed, dragging her fingers even slower now, cruel and kind all at once. Then, as if she hadn't just shattered him, she sighed.

"You think if I ever got my hands on Bridgette and Adelina at the same time, I'd break 'em?"

Zach groaned. "Carrie--"

She grinned, eyes glinting. "Just a thought, babe. But right now?" Her fingers tightened, teasing, finishing him off. "You're the one losin' it for me."

She grinned, triumphant. He was hers. Always.

And then she finished him, slow and merciless.