Luka
Coward. I’m a big fat, fucking coward. I’ve been at Cara’s for four days now, and we’re dancing around one another, being all careful and shit. But the only reason I’m not making a move is because there’s this little voice in my head that says it will change my life if I do.
It’s coming up to bonfire night and already there are bangers going off regularly in the evening. I hate this time of year. The nights draw in and it’s cold and dark. I miss the sun and the long days. I’ve been in a crappy mood all day, and Cara has been nowhere to be seen. It’s the weekend, so neither of us have work.
Cara has given me a few signs she wants things to go further, and I’ve pretended not to notice. Yeah, big old coward.
I heard someone at the door a moment ago, so I head downstairs to check Cara is okay.
She’s in the lounge, reading, but her brows are pinched. I sit next to her.
“What’s up?”
“Blooming Jehovah’s Witnesses. Rambling on about me joining. I tried to get rid of them, but they’ve got thick skins.”
“That’s what having a deeply held belief they’re saving your soul will do.”
She turns to me, those blue, blue eyes astonishing in the waning afternoon light. “What about you? Do you have any firmly held beliefs?”
Whoa. Talk about hitting me with the deep stuff. I ponder her question for a moment. “Not really. I mean, I have plenty of beliefs, but none I can’t change. I’m open to conceding I might be wrong. I’ve seen what people are willing to do for an ideology, and it makes me wary of those who think there’s only one way in life. One right path.”
She nods and bites her lip. I track the movement before dragging my eyes back to her gaze. “I think I can be a bit that way. I used to think because my beliefs were “good” then it didn’t matter that I wouldn’t consider the other side of things. Now, I’m not so sure.”
“Hey,” she says, voice brighter. “Mags and Laura are having an early bonfire night this week, do you fancy going?”
No, I do not. In fact, the idea makes me shudder. It’s the only time of the year I can honestly see into the abyss of what full blown PTSD might be like. Hearing bangs and whizzes takes me back to much less happy sounds.
She must notice my shudder because she frowns a little, and her mouth turns down. “Sorry, I mean we’re not dating or anything, so it’s a stupid idea. You’re only here to look out for me. And you’ve made it clear the last few days you don’t want anything more. Which I totally understand, and to be honest, I think you’re probably right. After all, I was the one who said we’d be a disaster, and you seemed to want more, but I get now you don’t. Why would you, I’m a mess. And clearly—”
“Cara.” I hold my hand up, cutting into her neurotic stream of consciousness. “It’s nothing to do with any of that. I don’t like fireworks…at all.”
“Oh, okay.” She pauses then muses. “I used to have a dog who freaked out on firework night.”
What the fuck? I stare at her for a moment. “I’m not a fucking dog.”
“Of course not.” She flinches at my words and her chest colours.
“I didn’t mean to compare you to a dog in that sense. I simply was going to say we used to draw the curtains and play some music to distract her, so maybe we can do that instead of going to the party.”
She stops. Good job, as I’m about to lose my cool completely. I might not want to go to some lame fucking bonfire party and stand in the freezing cold listening to the sounds of my own version of hell, but it doesn’t mean I need to be babied.
Her face falls further. Her pretty mouth is downturned, almost in a pout, and her eyes are glistening with unshed tears.
Ah, fuck! I feel like a total bastard now. “Cara, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to explode. It’s not what you said. It’s me. I hate it. I faced death every day, and now the thought of a bonfire party makes me stressed. Fucking pathetic…”
“You’re not pathetic. To me you’re…” She flushes so deeply as she trails off that I want to know what she is swallowing down.
“I’m what?”
“I know I had a difference of opinion to you…about the army and stuff, but honestly, as I’ve come to know you, I admire you. You’re a hero to me.”
I scoff. “I’m no fucking hero, babe. Not to you or anyone.”
“You’re here, aren’t you? No one else is. You’re staying to keep me safe, when my last boyfriend only tried to swindle me out of money. Tried to use me, and got nasty when I wouldn’t let him. You’re here. And you care, but you do it without smothering me.”
“I’m not a hero.” The word makes me sick. This is what I don’t want. Hero worship. I preferred it when she hated me. The words are cloying. I can’t bear to hear them, the same way I can’t bear to look at that medal. I let those girls down. How the fuck did I get awarded for bravery when I let them down?
She takes my hand, and the simple touch shocks me. Grounds me, too.
“Look, I’m not putting you on a pedestal. I think you can be a total dick sometimes.”
My lips twitch.
“You’re mercurial. Pushy. Bossy. And you’re all over the fucking place.”
My eyes widen at her swearing. I can’t help it, she does it rarely.
“But you’re also a lot more caring than you think, and you being here makes me feel safe, so thank you.”
I smile at her, and she drops my hand and sighs. Her face still looks sad. I can’t bear it, so I tip her chin up. “What’s wrong?”
She shakes her head.
“Tell me…please.”
“I want to know what I did to turn you off me?”
Her words shock me. I’ve been trying to control my dick every minute I’ve been in her house. I’m doing it for both of us because I think it’s getting too complicated and too deep. But I don’t want her to think I don’t want her. To feel rejected.
I sigh, and face her. “You’ve not put me off. Not at all. It’s me.”
She laughs, and it sounds bitter, and I realize what a cliché I’ve used.
“No. Really. I’m not in any place for a relationship, and you…you’re not a screw and run kind of a girl. I don’t want to use you. I don’t want to fuck things up. I’m trying to do the right thing, be the good guy. But it’s not because I don’t want you.”
“You’re wrong.”
I raise my eyebrows in question.
“I’m not someone you have to treat like a fragile porcelain doll. What if I want to screw and run? I want you, Luka. I’ve never said that to a guy. You said…you said we weren’t finished. Don’t go back on it now.” She looks at the ground and then lifts her eyes. Bold. but also scared, nervous. I can see it clear as day. Then she floors me. “I want you to fuck me.”
Her words are like an electrical jolt through my system, heating my blood and robbing me of breath. They also prompt a few tasty visuals, and my dick gets in on the party quick.
“You know, today, I needed some tension relief. Sharing this house with you, your scent. Your body. Those fucking insane eyes. So, I grabbed my iPad and strolled through a few favourite porn sites for a wank, but none of them did it for me. Not one. In the end, I closed my eyes and thought of you.”
Her eyes widen, and her perfect pink tongue comes out, wets her mouth and retreats. It leaves her lips parted and glistening. I straddle her in one smooth move. Holding myself up on my knees, I take her face in my hands. “Don’t ever doubt your effect on me.”
“Do something about it then.” She smiles, and it is shy in contrast to her bold words.
And I do. I do something about it.
I pull her up off the sofa and almost drag her to the stairs and up them. She wants this. She wants it despite knowing we can’t be anything permanent, and who am I to deny either of us?
We’re already tearing at one another’s clothes by the time we reach the bedroom. This isn’t what I expected. She’s obviously as riled up as me. I thought I’d have to seduce her. Take my time. I know she’s been hurt by men. Let down. I never expected this level of passion from her.
By the time we get to the bed we’re half undressed and she’s hopping about on one foot as her clothes half hang off her body. I don’t want them in the way, and I take hold of her shirt and simply rip it in half. She gasps and looks at me eyes wide. “You ripped my shirt!”
“Yeah, I’ll replace it if it matters to you. What with you being such a clotheshorse and all.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “Are you saying I’m not fashionable?”
“I wouldn’t know women’s fashion if it hit me in the face, but you cover your banging body up all the time. You drape it in layers of fabric, so no one can see how hot you are.”
“You’re wrong there. I’m not hot.”
“Oh, but you are.”
I pull the tattered, cheap material from her body and vow to buy her some better clothes. I don’t give a shit what she wears, but I hate she doesn’t value herself enough to buy anything nice. One of my sister’s friends is a personal shopper at some high-end department store, and I’m going to send Cara to her with my credit card. But now, I want something other than clothes on our mind. Her bra is simple white cotton but it’s as sexy as hell to me because it contains her.
I bend my head and suck one already hardened peak into my mouth through the material and she gasps, arching her back. I bite at her, not too hard but enough to give a tiny frisson of pain before soothing with my tongue. Her fingers tangle in my hair as she grips tight.
My thigh slides between her legs and presses there. She moans, fucking moans, all un-inhibited and hot, and presses herself against me. As I continue to suck and bite at her breasts she’s practically humping my leg.
I bite down on her neck, her squirming and shivering in my arms. “You don’t like it?” I murmur.
“Like it too much,” she says.
I keep on doing it until she squeals and pulls away from me laughing. “Oh my God, it’s like divine torture.”
Goosebumps break out all along her arms and she shivers again. She’s so sensitive.
With trembling fingers, she reaches for me and pulls my pants down. I’m only wearing sweatpants, no underwear, and her eyes widen as my cock springs free. She gulps. “Erm…don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re kind of big.”
She’s says this like it’s a bad thing and I’m confused. Most women love my cock. It’s long enough but it’s thick. One girl used to say it was like stuffing a beer can up her pussy.
Cara is looking at it with suspicion, not the usual lust I am used to seeing. “Most women think it’s a good thing, a guy having a big dick.” I shake my head at her but I’m smiling.
“Yeah, but…it’s really big. I’ve been worrying about how it will fit since the night in my hallway.”
I laugh. “Babe, it’s not that big.” And then I get serious. “I’ll go slow.” I’ll make it good for her. Because I want her wanting more. I want her begging for me over and over. I might not be sure where the fuck this is going, but now she’s pushed it, got us to this point, no way are we going to be a one and done kind of thing.
Tentative, her eyes still wide and her face flushed, she grabs hold of me and strokes her small hand from root to tip and back again.
“Fuck, yes. Like that, baby.”
She picks up the pace and becomes bolder, gripping me tighter, and adding a twist at the top. Soon I’m leaking, and I don’t want to blow my load like this. I pull her hand away and tug her half off clothes free from her legs, leaving her in white panties and bra. I unhook the bra, wanting it gone, but she wraps her hands over her chest.
I shake my head. “Uh uh. No hiding, darling. I want to see you, you’re fucking gorgeous.”
“Am not,” she re-joins immediately.
“We’re going to have to work on this self-esteem issue you seem to have. But not now.”
“I’m realistic is all. I’m not the kind of woman men fall for.” She pauses and something sad flashes into her eyes. “Not men like you.”
“Well, most men are dicks who only see the surface, and by that, I mean the real surface. A fuck ton of make-up, some hair extensions, and a push-up bra, and you can fool eighty percent of the male population.”
“But not you?”
“I’ve had my fair share of those kinds of girls and there’s nothing wrong with them making the best of themselves, but with you, I’m going to wake up to exactly what I went to bed with. And see, as I’m about to go to bed with a stunner, I think that means I’m winning at life right now.”
For once she doesn’t argue. In fact, she seems to be taking in what I say and believing it. Good, because it’s true. I don’t dislike women who wear makeup and hair extensions and all that stuff. But I love how natural Cara is. It’s refreshing and different for me.
“I’m not good at sex,” she says out of the blue.
Christ, you knock one of her insecurities down and another pops up to take its place. “There’s no such thing as good and bad at sex, only good or bad chemistry.”
“And do we have good chemistry?”
“Why don’t you let me show you?”
And thank fuck she does. She shuts up and she lets me show her.
I get her nude in double quick time, wanting to taste her so bad. The moment I see her gorgeous pussy I dive right in. She’s shaved around the edges with a tiny strip of red hair down the center. Her lips are already swollen and slick and I need to taste.
I drop to my knees, loving the shock in her eyes. I nudge her thighs apart with my shoulders and lean in to kiss her right at her core. She gives a small whimper that turns into a moan when I lick between her lips and suck her hard clit into my mouth gently.
I want her to lose control, so I go to work on her. The taste of her is fucking gorgeous and soon she’s panting and grinding against my face. Wanting more, I push my middle finger into her and fuck she’s tight. As I pump my finger and lick at her clit, I push her ruthlessly towards the edge. This is totally different from the gentle massage I gave her before. I give her no chance to overthink things. It doesn’t take long before she’s coming hard, clenching around my finger and I can’t wait for it to be my cock she’s squeezing like a vice.
Small tremors shake her thighs as she comes down, but I don’t give her time to recover. I push her backwards until she’s on the bed, and then I climb over her. Shit, I don’t have protection on me. She must be a mind reader because she pulls open the bedside drawer and takes out a box of condoms. I take one and rip the packet. I give it to her.
“Put it on me,” I order her.
She does what I say, no questions, and I love how compliant she is during sex. I can’t wait to see her truly fucked out. Boneless and languid after I’ve had my way with her.
When I push into her I take it slow. Her head drops back. She moans at first, but as I go deeper she winces and holds her breath.
“Hey.” I stroke her cheek and she opens her eyes. “Breathe, darling.”
Once more she does as she’s told and takes a deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth. I take my time, with a gentle push in and long slide out, loving the tight hot feel of her around me.
Once I start to see her expression change from pinched to turned on, I up the pace. She starts to move with me, hitching her hips and pushing into me.
I want her to come again, so I lower my hand between her legs and stroke her clit. Not knowing how sensitive she is, I keep it gentle at first and increase the pressure, loving watching her reactions. She likes it firm, so I give it to her. Soon she’s making these panted little oooh’s of surprise and that gorgeous flush she gets starts to spread up her chest and neck.
“Come for me, beautiful, I want to feel you.”
Another few seconds and she does. She throws her head back, arches her back, and comes with a loud cry. She convulses around me and I swear I see fucking stars as I empty my load into the condom. All I can think is I want to be emptying it into her. Filling her up with my seed, and I don’t want to examine the fucked up-ness of that at all, so I push it away.
I pull the condom off and go into the bathroom to dispose of it. Then I climb back into bed, pulling the covers back and pulling Cara under them with me. I put my arms around her and hold her tight. I swear I can hear her brain going. She’s let go, but now she’ll be coming back down to earth, doing her overthinking routine. She opens her mouth and I put my finger over her lips.
“Swear to God, darling, you start to dissect this and I’m going to do it all over again. I will keep giving you orgasms until you shut off your mind for once.”
She turns to me and gives me a look that would wither a lesser man. “I was going to say I should take a shower. But I’m too tired.”
“Good. Just stay here and go to sleep. We can shower in the morning.”
She sighs, but it’s a content sound, not a pissed off one, and she snuggles further into my arms, burrowing back into me until her back is to my chest, and my legs are wrapped around hers. I close my eyes and let myself enjoy the sensation of a warm body next to mine for once.
I don’t dream at all that night.
Three days later I’m sat in Cara’s kitchen with my heart hammering away as if I’m facing a firing squad. The woman in question is playing with Poppy. She’s so gentle and attentive, and Poppy adores her. It’s written all over her smiling face.
Cara bought her a huge jigsaw. Each piece is A4 paper-sized almost, and Cara emptied it all over the kitchen floor, so she and Poppy have got the space to put it together. It’s a farm scene, and so far, they’ve managed to complete the cow and a chicken. The pig and sheep seem to elude them.
“What do you think this is?” Cara holds up what is clearly the back half of a pig, with its pink skin and corkscrew tail.
Poppy shrugs and her little mouth turns down. Her lip starts to wobble but Cara jumps in to save the day.
“What colour is it?”
“Pink!” Poppy cries. She loves pink, despite Sally’s best efforts not to turn her into a girly girl, nursery seems to be doing the job for her. As soon as she started going it was all about pink.
“Yes, it is. Sooooo, can we see any other pink?”
Poppy frowns, but this time it’s in concentration, not upset. She glances all around her, and then claps her hands and points to a piece on the floor.
“Wow. Of course, I hadn’t seen it.” Cara smiles big. “Well done. This bit and this bit must go together, right? Because they’re both pink.”
Poppy nods and Cara fixes the pieces together. And then attaches them to where they belong in the wider puzzle. “Now can you tell what it is?”
“Yay! An oink oink.”
Cara bursts out laughing, but she’s nodding, and she says, “Yes, an oink oink. You’re a clever girl, Poppy.”
“I know all the animals,” Poppy announces seriously, and I turn away to hide my smirk.
Cara picks her up and gives her a great big hug before placing her gently back down, and I swallow hard.
Fucking hell, she’s getting to me big time. Hence my hammering heart. She’s worming her way in. Under my skin.
We’ve fucked like rabbits for the last few days. Her bed springs are probably wrecked. I took her in the shower this morning. I was cleaning her, rubbing the soap all over her gorgeous body and watching as she got all lathered up and slippery. I couldn’t resist slipping my fingers in between her pouty, sweet pussy lips and stroking her. She’d closed her eyes and sighed as I brought her to the edge.
I didn’t make her come though. Not with my fingers. Instead I turned her around, raised her arms, and held them above her head and took her from behind. She came with a cry as I lost my load inside her. No condom. I panicked, but I’m clean as a whistle and so, it turns out, is she. And she’s on the pill.
So, we’re at the fucking bareback stage. We’re comfortable around one another. We get on. Have a laugh. Yeah, some of her views are still the opposite of mine, but so fucking what? I like her. I like being around her.
She’s a breath of fresh air. And I’m starting to think dangerous thoughts. Like, maybe this could work? Perhaps we can make a go of it. A proper relationship.
My heart’s getting involved, I think I’m fucking falling in love with her.
She’s kind, and strong. And she’s gorgeous. I can’t keep my hands off her, but it goes deeper.
We might have differing views, but we have a lot of things in common. We prefer the quiet life. Neither of us are big on crowds and wild nights out. We both like to work out and run. We went for a jog this morning, and it made me happy to be with her in the outdoors. Running in silence, but totally in synch. We both like movies and reading, and she loves old dance tunes as much as me it turns out.
So yeah, we avoid touchy subjects and we’re good.
It scares me to death, but it makes me happy, too. For the first time in what seems forever.
I hope I don’t fuck it up.