Carlene

Our impromptu talk shifted a weight from my shoulders. Somehow, sharing my guilt and questions with Rome eases the burden of not knowing whether I’m responsible. I’m not sure I will ever really be over it, but it’s the first time since the accident that I feel I’ve made any significant progress forward. Surely, that counts for something?

I can’t change the past. I can’t change what Phillip did. The future is a different story—that’s up to me to decide.

I’ve been living in the past for fear of, and guilt at, moving on—moving to a future of my choosing.

Now I have a new goal. I realized something very, very important while lying talking to Rome.

The realization is simple—I’ll never know the answer to my questions about Phillip. And even if I did, it won’t change the outcome or where I am today. Deep down, I’ve known this but being brave enough or ready enough to accept it and be okay with this, has been another thing.

Even if he hadn’t died, we still would have had to let the gas drillers in or we would have been bankrupt. Either way, Colanara would be gone or parts of it, out of our direct control. I have to believe that truth. Actually, it’s more than believe it—I know it categorically. There had been no turning around from the road Phillip and me were on.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

There were no more maybes for me now.

They added no value to my life anymore.

I’m on a mission.

One to find out just who I am.

What I want to do with my life.

I’m not the only person to have faced challenges. Rome had at one stage of his life, and he seems to be doing just fine. In fact, it’s a little embarrassing how much of a meal I’ve made of it to date. He politely said I was “decompressing.”

Bullshit.

I’d been hiding and licking my wounds, and we both know it. Too guilty to go on.

I’m here, and Phillip isn’t. Whether that’s his choice or an act of God doesn’t matter. These are the facts I’m dealing with, or rather, have been avoiding.

No longer.

The property doesn’t matter to him anymore. Nor does the money Colanara’s availed me and our children with. What matters now is what I do with it. That’s my responsibility and challenge, now.

It’s up to me, and only me, to decide what the future holds.

After a couple of days in Center Valley, we headed back to the coast for the run up to San Francisco. Maybe it was a taste of my prior life or the faming scenery? Certainly talking to Rome played a massive part. Regardless, I feel like a weight has lifted from me.

We’re at yet another great little seaside bar having a late lunch and a drink. There seems to be no end of these places as we make our way up the west coast.

“You’re quiet.” Rome breaks the silence and drags me back from the swirl of thoughts running around and around in my head.

“Just thinking on things,” I say honestly. My mind just won’t shut off.

He looks at me, no, he studies me. “You know, you don’t need to figure everything out today. What we talked about was not about getting you to make rash decisions. It was more about helping you see just what you could accomplish if you wanted to. It was about helping you make the decisions you needed to move forward.”

He runs his hand up my arm. My first reaction is to pull away even though it feels good. It’s all part of my previous conditioning. We don’t need comfort from where I came from. We toughed it out. Held our problems in as we ploughed on.

Comforting, close, familiar, safe. That’s how he feels to me. Am I going soft?

Be tough. We don’t need affection. That had been the unspoken mantra of the bush.

We just needed to keep working and pushing through.

Then something occurs to me.

It doesn’t matter anymore. That life is behind me.

“You know what’s really ironic here, Rome?”

A hint of an amusement curls up the corner of his lush lips. Is it wrong to think about a man’s lips like that? I don’t know, but I certainly know they’re lush, and I also know I love them on mine and every other part of my body he’s touched with them so far.

“Nope. I have no idea what’s ironic here, Oz. Why don’t you enlighten me?”

I lift the margarita to my lips. It’s just another thing I haven’t experienced until the last few days. “I used to always be so good at solving problems and making decisions about the property, the kids, all that sort of stuff. I realized now, I’ve been avoiding making any for a good while.”

Rome tips his head and sips from his bottled beer. “Ever think that you might have made too many and needed a break from the burden?”

I laugh. He’s always looking for the way that doesn’t cast blame on me—cuts me slack, gives me the benefit of the doubt. That’s the problem; I’ve so much slack in the rope, I’m never going to get the knots tied, let alone find the end.

“You’re too easy, my friend. I have a feeling you’d let me get away with murder and give me a great excuse as to why it wasn’t my fault.”

He chuckles and gives me a long look that turns from “normal” to something totally different, something scorching hot. Then he grabs my hand, gently pulling me from the tall stool I sit on, overlooking the ocean.

“Where are we going?” I ask confused as I hurriedly drain the last of my glass. I’m not letting a drop of that goodness go to waste! Particularly now I’m acquainted with everything margarita.

His arm comes around me, and he whispers in my ear, “You’ve been thinking for hours. I’ve indulged you long enough. It’s time to stop, and I know just the way to make that happen, because sight-seeing and cruising around sure doesn’t seem to be working so far.”

It should sound arrogant and pompous. He makes it sound as if it’s all his fault I’ve been stewing in my own mind. Instead of any of that, a shiver darts down my spine at the feel of his tickling breath against my ear and throat. Being with Rome is so decadent and forbidden.

Incredibly tempting and tantalizing. I’m still struggling to come to terms with the fact, me being with Rome is okay. I am allowed to do this. It’s okay to be with another man. I’m not committing any sin.

It just feels that way at times.

There’s a disconnect between reality and my conscience.

His hand slips from around my waist and gives a firm squeeze to my butt.

A surprised gasp springs forth from my throat.

Surely, he didn’t mean?

He looks into my eyes, and I wonder if he’s reading my mind.

“Yes, Oz. That’s exactly what I mean. I’m going to take you back to the hotel, and I’m going to do all sorts of debaucherously and deliciously sinful things to you, and you’re going to enjoy every single one of them. Sweetheart, I’m not going to stop until all you can think about is me and where and how I’m going to pleasure you next. You’ve thought more than enough today.”

He pays the server, and all the while, I stand there trying to process what he’s just dropped on me, and then he’s bustling me out the door.

“But, it’s still daylight,” I protest stupidly.

His stride falters for a fraction of a second before he powers on, half dragging me with him, albeit willingly.

“I’m well aware of the time of day, Oz. The bit I’m struggling with is what that has to do with anything?”

Now I’m truly feeling a little foolish. “Well, you know, it’s not something I’d normally do during daylight. You don’t waste the light.” It’s a lame answer and a definite throwback to my days on the station. We were never inside before nightfall unless it was to do something related to the property.

“Exactly, you don’t waste the light. I want to see every single inch of you in daylight, and now’s the perfect time to do that.”

“It just seems…so…”

“Stop thinking, Oz. Spending an afternoon in bed is absolutely necessary. And if it’s something you’ve never done, then it’s a good thing you found me when you did! You’re well overdue!”

What can I say to that? Only the truth.

“I’ve been thinking so much because I’ve avoided it for too long. Besides, if I’m thinking, then it sort of takes the edge off me wanting you to…”

I started the confession without thinking it through to the end. Then embarrassment overcomes me. I’m a forty-year-old woman. I shouldn’t be panting over a man, should I?

“Wanting me to what, Oz?” There’s a wicked gleam in his eyes. The bugger knows exactly what he’s doing to me, and he’s reveling in it!

“Say it, Oz. Own it. I dare you!”

We’re at the door to the suite. Did he really just dare me?

I can do this, right?

Why shouldn’t I spend the afternoon in bed with a man?

You don’t have to report to anyone and you’re not breaking any rules, Carlene.

I can do this.

“Take me inside and…” I struggle with the courage.

There’s a pause.

The word I need almost chokes me.

Rome guides me through the door into the suite and then backs me up against it, when closed. His hand snakes under my chin and raises it gently until our eyes lock.

“The word you’re looking for is…fuck. Carlene. Repeat after me. ’Take me inside and fuck me, Rome.’”

I’m a willing prisoner of his gaze. I’m powerless to do anything but repeat the words he said to me.

“Take me inside and fuck me, Rome.” They come out clearer and more confident than I ever imagined possible.

He growls low in his throat. “You have no idea how hot that sounded, Oz. You make me so crazy for you, babe.” His hips lock me to the closed door at my back, and there’s no mistaking the hard length of him against my belly.

“Kiss me, Oz, show me with your lips and tongue what you want me to do to your pussy.”

I don’t have time to put another thought together.

His lips crash into mine, and just as he promised, every last thought is dislodged from my brain. All I can think about, no, think is the wrong word. I all I can feel is him. His body is hard against mine, engulfing me in every way.

His lips teasing and taunting mine. And then there is his tongue…

He pulls back slightly.

“Show me, Carlene. Demand it from me.”

The blatant challenge in his words kicks my need for him up to a whole new level. I grab the back of his head and press our lips together, silencing those audacious demands. My mouth slants one way then the other on his, trying to get deeper. Trying to own him and this moment.

God, it’s heady!

He’s mine to do with as I please. What’s more, he’s demanding it of me.

“That’s it, babe. Let go. Be a little wild for me. Never apologize for wanting or needing me,” he encourages.

My tongue plunges into his mouth, and he meets me stroke for stroke, not the least bit perturbed by my aggression. In fact, it seems to be having exactly the opposite effect on him.

His hands are in my hair and gone is the kind and considerate lover. This is Rome, in a much rawer form. He tugs at my hair, pulling my head back as he trails little bites, sucks, and licks all down the super sensitized skin of my neck.

“You want me to fuck you, Oz?”

Surely, that’s blatantly obvious and understood?

“Words…give me the words,” he demands of me, nipping my lower lip.

“Yes, God yes, Rome.”

He pulls back slightly and catches my knee, hauling it up around his hip as he thrusts hard against me, not trying to hide the aroused maleness of him at all.

His lips are back against mine momentarily before he drives his hips hard against me again. “So far, it’s all been about you. Awakening you to the possibilities of what it can be like with a giving lover. This time, I’m going to fuck you so long and deep, you’re going to forget your own name and every other problem that’s running around behind those gorgeous eyes.”

I feel his words through every single fiber of my body. I’m on fire for him, and I want it all—now.

The pain is real.

The need is real.

And the man crushing me to the door is real.

It’s a need like nothing I can remember. Never have I felt so overwhelmingly out of control, and I love it.

“Shirt off now, Oz,” Rome growls between kisses, dragging my shirt up and over my head.

It’s too much and not enough all at once.

I need his bare skin against me just as much as he seems to need mine.

My hands clutch at the hem of his shirt, and he pulls away long enough to help me rid him of the shirt that’s preventing me from having what I want against me.

“So much better,” I breathe and mean every word of it.

His skin is warm and silky to my touch. I love the texture against my hands and the rest of me. He’s soft and hard, masculine and beautiful all at the same time.

I’m so attracted and turned on by him, I’ve lost all control.

Then I realize I don’t want control. I just want whatever Rome is offering and demanding of me. I want him to take me from my mind, from it all. I want him to set me free.

My need for him is so great, actions have morphed into feelings and I’m gloriously drowning in it all.

He pushes me firmly against the door once again and steps back—enough to penetrate the spell I’ve fallen under.

“Strip for me, Carlene. I need to see you strip. I need to see you come to me, wanting me.” His breathing is ragged, and his hair is a crazy mess from my hands. He’s never looked sexier or more on edge in the short time I’ve known him.

My eyes are fascinated watching the heavy rise and fall of his highly defined abs. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he’d just finished a heavy workout session, but surely, we’ve just begun?

Then my eyes find his again, and I know something to be true. No man has ever looked at me with that sort of lust I’m feeling coming from him.

I flick open the button of my shorts and pull down the zipper. His heated eyes give me the courage I need to continue. I don’t know the first thing about being sexy, but I do know how to follow an instruction, and he told me to strip.

Rome steps forward and drags the fabric down my hips. I wriggle once, then twice, and this is all it takes for the shorts to be nothing more than a pool of fabric at my feet.

“Much better, but you still have too many clothes on.” He seems to glare at my underwear, and this is one of my nicer sets!

“Hey, I like this underwear,” I protest.

“Oz, it’s got nothing to do with the underwear and everything to do with me needing you to be naked—now!”

“What about you?” I protest. “Besides, I want you to take it off me.” That will help me feel less self-conscious, surely?

Stripping for a man isn’t exactly in my repertoire.

He drops the shorts and underwear he’s wearing without the least bit of hesitation, and for a moment, I envy the easy confidence he has in his own skin. To stand here blatantly at full arousal, without the slightest hint of a concern, this is impressive. Or is it arrogant? I don’t know, but the thing I’m sure of is how hot for him it makes me.

“Stop thinking, Oz, and drop the bra and panties. I told you I want you to strip for me, and I mean it. Come to me as the confident woman you want to be, the one you are in so many ways. Not as what you’ve been made to believe you are in the bedroom. Own it, Oz. Own your sexuality just like I know you own the rest of your life.”

Was he right?

Can I own it? Do I own my life?

I’m not so sure anymore.

I take a deep steadying breath and reach around behind me.

“Look me in the eye as you do it. Let me know it’s all for me. Let me know this is what you’re giving me and what you want from me and I’d better deliver it right to your specifications.”

Apparently, I now have specifications…do I?

The bra slides down my arms, and I plainly see his breath hitch in his lungs as the lace grazes down over the swell of my breasts.

“Beautiful. So, perfect,” he utters, his voice thick with lust. “Now the rest.”

This time, I don’t hesitate, I slip the panties from my hips, and I don’t even have the time to kick them off before he’s on me again.

“Much better, now tell me what you want,” he whispers, kissing my ear.

I counter with my own question. “What can I have?”

“Anything you want and more than you’ve ever dreamed.”

Is he talking about sex or my life?

Maybe both.

I decide right then and there. “Everything, Rome. I’m going to be greedy and say I want everything. Show me how good it can be. Show me everything”

He steps back again and moves over to the bed, not taking his eyes from mine. Just like the last hotel room, it’s plush and large.

But the décor in the room is the last thing on my mind as Rome lounges back and draws me to him with just a look.

“That’s it, Oz, cross the carpet—come and join me. Let’s have an adventure together.”

I move quickly to the bed. Somehow being connected to his body is way less scary than being out here on my own, naked and vulnerable.

Rome—my preference is to be against him. I’m fast learning everything feels better when his body is next to mine. More confident, safe.

He holds out a hand, and as soon as I place mine in his, he tugs me forward, landing me in his lap.

“Now I’ve got you where I want you.”

“Really, and what are you going to do with me?” I say far more daringly than I am but keen to get on board with the aggressive teasing mood he’s setting.

“Mmm, maybe a better question is what aren’t I going to do with you? I’m going to show you everything, Oz. We’re going to do everything worth doing at least once, maybe twice. I hope you’re feeling fit and rested.”

I don’t have words to answer him so I go with pressing my lips to his as my response.

He accepts my lips without a moment of hesitation and rolls me to my back, pressing his large form over me, surrounding me with his masculinity.

His mouth devours my breasts as if he’s starving and they’re his last meal. There’s obvious skill to his wanton devastation of me, but none of the sophisticated seduction he’s shown me before. This is raw hunger speaking, screaming between us.

A loud groan rips from my lips as he bites and sucks on my nipple. The sensation flows through my body faster than lightning and with twice as much of a jolt.

The feel of his hands gliding up and down my sides, learning my curves, worshipping me, is all consuming.

“So good, Rome,” I manage as his hand slides down over my hip to settle in between my legs, right where he knows I need him.

“So, wet. I love how wet you get for me, Oz. So, sexy, now I want to make you scream my name. I want to take you places you’ve never been before.”

His fingers are trailing over me in tantalizing strokes. Each one ratcheting up the pleasure I’m feeling to the point of exquisite pain. I’m so close to the edge, and he’s stoking me higher.

“The first one’s going to be on my fingers. The second one is going to be on my tongue and the third on my cock.”

What is he talking about?

There’s no way I can come three times in a row—surely?

“Ah Rome, I don’t think that’s going to be possible.” I’m not keen on ruining his plans, but reality is entirely another thing.

“And there’s the problem, right there,” he says nipping at my ear. “You’re thinking. I need you to be feeling. Let me worry about the rest. Let me do what I do best.”

He’s so confident and domineering. There’s no way I’m going to argue with him any further.

“Still thinking, Oz.” He moves us until we’re lying on our sides, facing each other. “I want to see your face as you come for me. Let me see you take all the pleasure I’m going to give you.”

Just his words are enough to send a whole new wave of tingles and anticipation racing through me.

Rome

It’s deeply emotional and raw in so many ways, and I don’t know if she knows I see it yet, but I do.

Pleasure has a way of stripping back a person’s emotional walls and giving you a glimpse inside. Carlene is the type that once she lets go, she lets you in under her guard, and you get to see the beauty inside her.

Every stroke of my hand on her body is crumbling the walls of her soul, breaking down her defenses and awakening the woman inside, who has never been allowed out.

I pull her thigh over my hip, opening her up, ready for my exploration. Her skin is soft and warm to the touch as I run my hand up and down her thigh before dipping lower over the round globes of her ass—my fingers dangerously close to her hot center.

Her body tenses in my arms as I dip my fingers lower, and she lets out a little squeak.

“Shhhh, baby, let me touch you. Let me feel how wet you are.” I croon at her in a low voice to ease her fears.

I stroke my fingers slowly along her slit and circle around her clit a couple of times. She sucks in a deep breath, and lets out a strange little moaning noise that I take as being a cross between surprise and pleasure.

“Feels good, doesn’t it? You like my fingers teasing you, don’t you?” She nods slightly, and I watch her eyes haze before her eyelids droop with passion.

“That’s it, relax, and let me take you there.” I dip my head and lick my tongue over her pebbled nipple a couple of times. As a reward, I feel her body tense in my arms.

“Rome…” she pants as I slip two fingers deep inside her.

“Yeah, baby. Let me stroke you here. You’re so hot and wet. You’re going to feel amazing when I slide my cock into you in a little while. You’re going to love that, aren’t you?” I whisper into her ear, before running my tongue down the slope of her throat. Carlene is super sensitive everywhere, particularly on her neck and around her ears. I’m thoroughly enjoying playing with her mature inexperience.

Her whole body is poised in my arms, ready to explode as I slowly circle her clit with my finger. She’s quivering on the edge, waiting for me to set her free.

“That’s it, let it build until you can’t stand it anymore.” Her hair tickles my lips as I breathe the words against her neck.

“Please, Rome…” she begs of me. The next stroke of my fingers will do it.

I give the lightest of teasing touches, just the slightest hint.

And again, almost…now.

I can’t deny her any longer. “Now Carlene, let go for me.”

The sound of my voice coaxing her and the slightest hint of my touch is all it takes.

She soars.

Her hips thrash, and her head tosses from side to side. Right here, I know I’m going to need to rearrange the order of proceedings I’ve promised her. I need to be inside her when she lets go like that.

I want to feel her body wild against mine.

Need to feel what she’s feeling.

With practiced precision, I slip a condom on my dangerously throbbing cock and move over her, all the while not breaking contact with her.

“You ready to feel me fill you, Oz?” I never initially enter a woman without a verbal confirmation. For the first time ever, I have no idea what I’m going to do if she says no.

Her eyes are glazed, and her lips are pouty and full.

“Yes…please, Rome,” she gasps and closes her arms around my waist.

I give her pussy one last teasing stroke with my fingers and slide into her slowly. It’s been a while for her, and Carlene isn’t the sort you just go randomly slamming into. She’s a lady you treat with respect.

Heat engulfs my cock. She’s divinely hot, tight, and pulsing all around me. Exactly as I’d hoped and anticipated.

A keening sound slips from her lips before it turns into a long low moan that cranks the heat up between us even more. The sounds a woman makes in the throes of passion, are one of the biggest turn-ons for me. I love knowing I’m giving her that pleasure. That I’m driving her to the best type of pleasure-fueled distraction.

The sound of her moan has me immediately clamping down hard on my back teeth. If I don’t, my performance is going to be embarrassingly short, and I sense Carlene’s had enough of that before. This is every escort’s worst nightmare and something I’ve only ever had to deal with a couple of times when I was starting out.

Slowly, I move within her, getting my body firmly back under control.

I keep my strokes slow and shallow until I get a sense of what she likes. Gradually, I increase the force and the speed of my hips, and her hands grip my ass tightly.

“You like that, Oz?”

“So, good,” she pants and digs her fingernails in to my hard flesh, and wow, does it feel good to me.

“You’re going to come for me again, Oz,” I demand.

“Not sure I can. I’ve never…”

“Stop thinking and let me take you.” My tone is harsher than I intend, but the only thing limiting her pleasure is the inhibitions and insecurities of her own mind.

Her body is tightening around mine even more, and I know it’s only going to be a few seconds before I can roll into bliss with her.

Ecstasy and a release have never been so beckoning.

Carlene

Surely, I can’t?

Never.

I’m drowning in him. Drowning in an overload of the most incredible sensations. My body is out of control. It’s scary and exciting all at the same time.

His voice cuts through the haze of pleasure, but rather than pull me from the moment, I’m encouraged. I want to do this for him.

He’s so deep, so connected to me, with me. I can feel him all around me, inside me. My body is racked with an intensity I’ve never experienced before.

It’s there, I know what he means now, coaxing me to move toward it. Pleading with me to take it.

Rome shifts his weight from me, and I immediately miss his body against mine. Then he’s on his knees and dragging my hips up his thighs.

“Oh…ahh,” I groan.

“This okay?” There’s concern in his eyes as I fight the passion-drugged weight of my eyelids.

“Yeeesss.”

His mouth twists up at the corner as he drives into me harder.

Then he rolls his hips a little differently and what is amazing turns into the sublime.

Never, have I ever!

So good. So amazingly good.

“Let go, Carlene.”

And I do. There’s no holding on anymore.

I have no choice. My body’s merely responding to his. He demands, and I respond.

The world explodes around me, and I’m gone. Pleasure is engulfing me, carrying me away. It’s so intense.

Release and weightlessness fill me.

Euphoria surrounds me.

Nothing, I have nothing to compare this to, no point of reference. It’s completely new territory for me.

Rome groans and thrusts hard into me, dragging my attention back to him. My eyelids don’t want to lift, but I can’t miss the moment he comes, taking his pleasure from my body.

The look on his face is primal.

The satisfaction real.

As if he senses me watching him in the most intimate of moments, his eyes meet mine and something passes between us.

It’s real and it’s strange; new.

A recognition between both of us at some deeper level.

He reaches out and brushes the hair from my damp face.

It’s such a tender and gentle gesture in contrast to the ferocity of what we’ve both just experienced.

The lazy smile he gives me says more than any words.

In return, I give him a coy grin.

He knows what he’s given me.

Rome doesn’t need me to say anything just now.

He isn’t looking for any more than for me to acknowledge the intensity of what we shared.

It’s enough for him and just another thing I appreciate about him even more.