"I know. And I thought I had that with Mike."
"Okay, that's true. I thought so, too. But that doesn't mean the theory is a failure. Mike just happened to be fickle. Let's face it, Ice Queen, you aren't the easiest person to love. And I can say that because I love you dearly."
"I just feel so unwanted. And unsexy. And generally like a failure." Carly curled her legs underneath her and pulled a blanket down on top of her tanned legs. She'd just had them waxed so they were without hair and smooth. This usually made her feel good, but today not even a fresh wax, including bikini area, could make her feel sexy.
"That's an easy enough fix. All you need is to make a man want you. Totally easy, Ms. Blue-Eyed Blond with implants and a tan. They already do. All you need is a good roll in the hay to get you out of your funk, I promise."
Carly couldn't help but laugh. Speaking to Dawna, even if it was just over the telephone, always made everything seem just a little bit better. She missed living in the same city as her best friend. Now Dawna seemed like a world away. "Sex is your answer for everything."
"Sex IS the answer for everything!" They both laughed this time.
"I can't wait till I'm done with school, Dawna. I want to come home."
"I want you to come home, too. I know you're miserable up north. But hot sex is going to cheer you right up."
"Sex is no good. I always end up getting attached. I don't want to fall for anyone right now."
Dawna paused thoughtfully. "Well, then. You need really dirty sex." Carly didn't say anything. "I'm serious, I think this will work. You need to have the kinkiest, filthiest sex imaginable. You have to make this guy think you're a freak. Well, you are kind of a freak, but I mean he should think you're some kind of insatiable fiend."
"And how exactly is this going to fix anything?"
Dawna sighed and when she spoke again it was as if she were speaking to a child or a mental patient. "You need to humiliate yourself with this man. So much so that the thought of seeing him again is abhorrent to you. Ergo, no attachment. Sex and nothing more. Do you have anyone you can get freaky with?"
A picture of Liam popped into Carly's mind and she closed her eyes tightly and tried to push it away. It would be incredibly stupid to get involved with that man. He was too handsome. Too witty. Too smart and successful and perfect. And tall. She was already attached and she hadn't even fucked him yet. Not 'yet'. No fucking. She wasn't going to fuck him. Why was she thinking about fucking him. As she was thinking about what she shouldn't be thinking about but was thinking about anyway, a knock sounded at her door.
"I gotta go. Someone's at the door."
"If it's the pizza guy screw his brains out," Dawna quipped.
Carly was grinning when she hung up. She pushed the blanket off her legs and trotted to the door in her slippers. When she looked through the peep hole she saw dark skin and broad shoulders and her body went on hyper alert. Liam. What was he doing here? She thought back to the last time she'd seem him, the way his eyes lingered over her breasts. She looked down at her University of California, Berkeley sweatshirt from her undergrad days and Dawna's words came back to her. Liam knocked again.
Carly peeled the sweatshirt off and set it on the table by the door. Under it she had a T-shirt. It was thin and pale pink and it was obvious she wasn't wearing a bra. Implants had assured that, even without a push-up bra, her breasts remained pert. She could see the dark brown pigment of her nipples through the T-shirt, as well as the outline of their shape. Quickly she kicked off the slippers, threw the sweatshirt on the coat hanger by the door and swung the door open.
When she opened the door Liam looked anxious, but as his eyes scanned her body his expression quickly turned to fear. He was relieved he'd left his suit jacket on and buttoned because Carly immediately brought his libido to life. He T-shirt was like a second skin and her perfect tits stood out proudly, pert globes that made him want to send her plastic surgeon flowers. He legs were barely covered. The shorts she was wearing were clearly meant to be pajama shorts. They were white cotton and, had he been viewing her from behind, he doubted they were long enough to cover the full curve of her ass. She had a runner's legs, lean and sculpted and brown. Even her toenails, painted a purple so dark it could have been black, looked good.
"Liam. Hi." The sound of her voice saying his name melted his insides a little. Her shorts had a Snoopy pattern. The little beagle had never looked so sexy. He could make out dark panties underneath the white shorts and suddenly he wanted to get a look at her ass to determine if they were thong panties. They looked small enough to be thongs. Her nipples, before only visible because of their darker pigment showing through the thin material of the shirt, had hardened and were now clearly visible. Liam stood, shell-shocked.
Carly stepped back from the door and made a welcoming motion with her arm. "Come in." When she said the word 'come' his thoughts immediately roamed elsewhere. As he stepped through the entryway and closed the door behind him Carly turned and made her way toward the living room. Thong. Surprisingly, her shorts landed below the well sculpted ass. Definitely a thong.
Her tight little ass jiggled slightly as she pattered into an expensively furnished living room. "I was just about to start a fire," she said, bending at the waist to pick up a log and toss it into the fireplace. Her shorts stretched tight across her rear and Liam's erection throbbed.
"I'll do that," he said quickly, knowing that if she stood bent over in front of him much longer he'd push those shorts down and take her from behind right here and now. He kneeled next to her and started piling logs. Her hair was slightly damp and it smelled like peaches. "I'm sorry to just show up. I tried calling but your home phone was busy and I couldn't find your cell phone listed."
"I was talking to a friend," she said, standing. "I'll go get us a couple beers."
"I tried for at least an hour—" Liam called over his shoulder, watching as she disappeared into the kitchen.
"We were talking for two," he heard Carly's voice. He heard the refrigerator open and close and reached for the package of matches on the mantle. He was completely inept when it came to starting fires, or really doing much of anything campy, but luckily she kept some of those paper-wrapped starter logs in addition to the real wood. The paper caught fire quickly and he was able to stand up and survey the room before she came back. The couch and loveseat were both overstuffed black leather but there were also two chairs in red and, of all things, a bear-skin rug on the floor. For some reason he hadn't imagined Carly with big couches and a bear-skin rug in her home. He'd pictured tidy looking furniture in pastel hues with sharp lines and very little cushion.
Standing up, he looked around the rest of the apartment, or at least what he could see from his vantage point. A sweatshirt hanging next to the door caught his eye. Why in the hell hadn't she thrown something on before answering the door? Women. Suddenly she was standing next to him holding out a bottle of beer to him. A microbrew, again, not something he'd expected. He took the bottle and she moved away again, this time to an mp3 player perched on a dock. Music filled the room. He recognized a female jazz vocalist he recognized. He tried to avoid looking at her breasts as she walked back over to him.
"I came by because—Well, I wanted to say—I'm really sorry about Saturday and what happened in my office." The words, which initially stuck in his throat, were soon spilling out. "It was completely unprofessional and inappropriate and I really regret that it happened." She had stepped closer to him, was looking up at him as if she couldn't quite believe what she was hearing. "I mean, you have to work in that environment, and it should be comfortable. You shouldn't have to worry about walking into my office and feeling any—sexual charge—and if that's why you quit, I mean, I understand but I really am sorry. If you'll come back I can promise you that nothing like that will ever happen again." He paused and took a deep breath, then finally looked into her eyes to see if he could see understanding, or forgiveness. She was staring at him with those big blue eyes. A slight smile played at the corners of her pouty lips.
"You mean it? There won't be any more...sexual charges...between us?"
He was already a liar. "Scouts honor." That was okay. He was never a boy scout. Carly set her beer on one of the end tables and turned back to him. In one smooth motion she pulled her T-shirt up and over her head, revealing two perfectly shaped breasts. Liam's heart slammed in his chest. Nervously, he licked his lips. "I-uh- Carly—"
"No," she said, stepping into him and reaching for the buttons on his suit jacket. In no time she had the jacket pushed out of the way and was working on his belt. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her tits. "Don't call me that." She pulled his button down shirt free of his pants and with quick little movements started working on the buttons, exposing a muscular expanse of dark brown skin. He'd taken off his tie at a traffic light on the way over, so there was nothing in her way when she pushed his shirt and jacket back off his shoulders and down his arms, revealing large biceps and a gold Rolex.
Liam was frozen in place. "Barbie, what are you—" His words caught in his throat when she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pressed her chest to his. He could feel her nipples scrape against his chest and she pulled his head down until his face was close enough to her that she could press her mouth to his. The smell of peaches was stronger now and he wasn't sure how long he could keep still. Was this a test? Was she testing him? He was able to keep his arms, and the rest of his body, stiff but couldn't stop himself from returning her kiss. Her mouth was soft and warm and inviting.
As she kissed him her hands moved to his pants again and this time worked at the zipper. She slid her hand down the front of his boxers and let out a tiny sigh as her hand encircled his erect penis. Before he knew what was happening she had dropped to her knees in front of him. She pulled his boxers down and licked from the base of his cock to the head, which she took into her mouth and started sucking. Her tongue slid over his teasingly as her mouth, closed around him, provided delicious suction. He closed his eyes and just focused on the sensations as she took more and more of him into her mouth and he was curling his toes and burying his hands in her hair. She must straighten it each morning, because when it was wet it fell in gentle blond waves to her shoulders. Blond. Barbie-blond. Suddenly he remembered where he was. Who he was. Who she was. She must have felt him tense and pull back because suddenly her hands were at his hips, her nails biting into his skin holding him in place as she bobbed her head. He was going to come. Right now, in her mouth, and he hadn't even walked in the door ten minutes ago.
