Private Paradise (5 page)

“
If you follow the handle, that points
you to the North Star.” She felt him shift next to her, pressing
even closer to her side. She hoped he didn't notice her finger
shaking as she pointed to another group of stars. “And there's the
Little Dipper―”

“
I wouldn't know anything about that,”
Sam interrupted.

Carla felt her face heat, glad he couldn't
see her blush in the dark. “And there,” she continued, trailing her
finger across the sky, “If you connect that star with those two,
that's Ursa Major, the big bear, and Ursa Minor, the little
bear.”

She turned and saw that he was staring not at
the sky but at her. Oh, great, there she went, spouting off like a
know it all, reminding him of what a nerd she was, totally not
worth his time.

As though he read her mind he said, “It's
cool how smart you are. I wish I was smart like that.”

Carla was taken aback. She couldn't imagine a
guy like Sam, who skated through life and averted punishment on the
strength of his charm, ever wanting to be anything like her.
Besides, she had a strong suspicion that his performance in
school―or lack thereof―was due more to disinterest than lack of
intelligence. She told him so.

She felt him stiffen against her. “Nah. Like
my dad says, it's lucky I'm good with my hands since I've pretty
much got shit for brains.” The sheer cruelty of the remark, coupled
with the unmistakable bitterness in his voice told Carla she'd
inadvertently uncovered a wound.

“
That's a crappy thing for a parent to
say about his kid,” Carla said.

“
Yeah, my dad's a real charmer.” His
fingers tightened against her leg, then relaxed. “I don't want to
talk about him though. Tell me more about the stars.”

Carla searched the sky, but it was hard to
remember the names when he started running his palm up and down the
outside of her thigh, from the hem of her shorts to the top of her
knee. And then when he moved his hand so his fingers just brushed
the inside of her thigh in gentle hypnotic rhythm that had her so
entranced she didn't even think to protest as he slowly guided her
to her back to lie on the blanket.

He propped himself on his elbow next to her,
his dark head blocking out the view of the stars. Her heart beat so
fast she thought it was going to break through her chest and her
breath shuddered in her lungs as he bent close enough for her to
feel his warm breath against her cheek.

And then he kissed her.

Even now, years later, the memory sent a
shock of heat blazing through her. Carla closed her eyes,
remembering every sensation with such clarity it was almost as
though it was happening right here, right now.

She remembered his lips, so full and firm,
surprisingly gentle against hers. The way he licked at the seam of
her lips, his tongue hot and slick. She parted her lips and braced
herself for the onslaught of wet thrusting that had been the
hallmark of her limited experience.

Carla had only hooked up with a handful of
guys in her eighteen years, and while most of the make out and
heavy petting sessions had started out pleasantly enough, most
teenage boys seemed to think girls wanted a tongue thrusting down
their throats, clumsy hands squeezing at anything round, and
fingers sneaking into panties at the first opportunity.

But Sam... Carla gave a shaky sigh as Sam's
kiss sent a jolt of heat through her. Sam might have only been a
few years older, but he kissed like a man. A man who knew exactly
what he was doing.

And why wouldn't he, given all the experience
he had. You heard all the whispers of the girls saying how amazing
he was. Looks like they weren't lying.

The thought jolted her a bit, reminding her
that she needed to be cautious with Sam. If she didn't want to be
used up and cast aside like all the others she was going to have to
be careful.

It was almost impossible to keep that in mind
though as Sam sucked her tongue into his mouth, slid it against
his, then gave her bottom lip a little nip. She threaded her
fingers through his thick, dark hair, reveling in the groan he gave
at her touch. She might be inexperienced, she thought, but at least
she could make him feel good.

She kissed him back with everything she had,
making up with enthusiasm what she lacked in skill. Soon they were
both panting, and a throbbing ache had started between her legs.
Sam's hand slid from her waist and covered her breast with his big,
long fingered hand.

Instead of groping and squeezing like every
other guy who'd had a personal encounter with her D cups, Sam found
her nipple, straining against the fabric of her tank top. He
circled it with his thumb, back and forth in a gentle rhythm that
had her making little sounds of pleasure in her throat as she
squirmed to get closer.

He let out a groan against the skin of her
throat. “Do you have any idea how long I've wanted to do this?”

Even though she knew it was probably just a
line, Sam's words sent a shudder of delight through every nerve.
Sam settled more of his weight against her and slid his knee
between hers. As he pressed against her she could feel him, hard
and hot against her hip.

She gasped, and a snippet of gossip she'd
heard from another girl popped into her head. Oh, my God, the girl
had said, Sam O'Connell and I did it last weekend and I swear to
God, his dick is so big I didn't even think it would fit.

At the time, Carla didn't think that sounded
so great, but the other girls had seemed to think it was pretty
awesome. Now, the feel of his long, thick, erection against her hip
sent a rush of moisture between her legs, soaking her panties as
she wondered what it would be like to strip Sam naked and see for
herself what the girls were talking about.

Not going to happen, her common sense made
one last gasp. You are not getting naked, you are not having sex,
and you need to let him know right now what not to expect so there
is no misunderstanding.

Carla had always been up front with the guys
she fooled around with that she wasn't going to have sex. She
didn't care if it made her uptight, or it meant people call her a
prude. And it wasn't like she was committed to virginity until
marriage either. She just wanted it to mean something, to be with
someone she cared deeply for and who cared deeply for her.

So far, she hadn't been with anyone who was
worth putting herself through what, as far as she could tell, would
be a somewhat painful and not so pleasant―for her at
least―experience.

Sam pinched her nipple and took her mouth in
another one of those delicious kisses. Oh God, she could give it up
to him so easily, and she knew instinctively that there wouldn't be
anything unpleasant about it.

But it wouldn't mean anything. Not to him
anyway.

Carla realized if she didn't act soon Sam and
his magic mouth and hands were going to blow all of her rules to
hell.

“
I'm not having sex with you,” she
blurted out shakily.

Sam's hand froze on her breast. “Uh,
okay.”

Carla scooted up on her elbows. “I mean, I
just don't want there to be any misunderstandings or disappointment
on your part. I know you fool around with girls all the time, and
you're used to getting...” She trailed off, embarrassment flooding
through her as she realized how stupid she sounded.

Sam rolled away, sat up, and raked a hand
through his hair. “Right. I'm a total man slut.”

If the shoe fits... “That's not what I
meant,” Carla snapped, her body feeling the chill of the night air
more acutely without the heat of Sam's skin keeping her warm. “I
thought you should know that's not in the cards for us.”

“
You're a virgin, aren't you?” he said
in the same tone as someone who's encountered a particularly rare
and reclusive species.

Carla felt her face heat as tears of
humiliation stung her eyes. “Yeah, I am.” She stood on shaky legs
and started across the plateau. “So now you know and you can go
find someone else to give you what you want and stop wasting your
time with me.”

Sam caught her before she'd taken three steps
and pulled her back against him. When she wouldn't look at him he
caught her chin in his fingers and tipped it up. Without saying a
word he kissed her again, his hand sliding from her chin to cradle
the back of her head.

“
I'm not wasting my time Carla. I don't
want sex with some other girl. I want to be with you.”

Even knowing his reputation, knowing what a
player Sam was, any question Carla might have formed melted away at
his words.

That night they'd stayed on that blanket
under the stars well into the night, but Sam, shockingly respectful
of her wishes, didn't push Carla to go farther than drugging and
kisses and touches that left them both aching and unsatisfied.
She'd snuck back into her dorm room flushed and vibrating with
energy, every nerve pulled so tight with frustrated desire she
could barely sleep that night.

Still, Carla had always been a smart girl and
pragmatic too. Sam might have been willing to put up with her
prudishness for a night but he would no doubt move on to better, or
at least more satisfying prospects. She'd felt a pinch in her chest
at the thought but had shoved it away. She knew better than to get
all moony and hopeful over someone like Sam.

Now, as Carla stood looking sightlessly over
the balcony at the Caribbean shimmering darkly in the moonlight,
she wished, not for the first time, that she had kept that in mind
as the next six weeks unfolded.

To her shock and no small measure of delight,
the morning after their night under the stars, Sam found her after
her breakfast shift, snuck a kiss, gave her a smoldering look, and
said, “See you later,” in a way that left no room for argument.
That night, and every night after they snuck off to their special
spot under the stars. Soon, kisses and above the waist touches
weren't enough.

Sam, though, was still okay with Carla's
decision not to have sex.

Well, not intercourse anyway. In the weeks
that followed he taught her that there were a lot of ways for them
to make each other come without actually inserting tab A into slot
B.

Heat shimmered through her at the memory of
his skillful hands and mouth, sucking, kissing his way down her
body to bury his head between her legs. His fingers sliding into
her as his tongue licked and stroking her clit until she didn't
care that they were out in the open where anyone could find them if
they just walked up the hill. Until all she cared about was Sam and
the way he was making her feel.

It wasn't all one sided – Carla wasn't cruel.
She was an eager student as Sam coached her on how to stroke, lick,
and suck him to satisfaction.

At least, she thought with a stab of hurt
that was still razor sharp even so many years after, she thought
she had satisfied him.

But it hadn't been all about the sex, for
Carla at least. A lot of those nights, they did a lot of talking
along with fooling around. She'd gotten to know Sam beyond the bad
boy he showed the world and discovered someone who was surprisingly
thoughtful and as she'd suspected, wickedly smart despite his lack
of academic prowess.

In those whispered conversations under the
star-soaked sky, they shared their plans and dreams for the future.
She told Sam about her scholarship to University of Arizona and her
dream of running her own resort one day, somewhere quiet and
serene, the polar opposite of the flash and noise of Vegas where
they grew up.

She opened up about her mother and how after
her father had left them, her mother had fallen into a deep
depression, leaving Carla to fend for herself and her younger
brother. How, after years of therapy and medication, her mother had
finally pulled herself back together to the point where Carla could
feel comfortable spending the summer away without worrying that
everything was going to fall to shit without her there. “At least
my dad sends child support every month,” Carla had told him, “or
else we would have been totally screwed.”

Sam had grunted and said, “At least your dad
has money to spend. Mine hasn't held down a job for more than a
month since my mom died.”

Carla had heard from Chris that Sam's mom had
died when he was just thirteen, but she'd never heard anything
about his dad. Though Sam didn't elaborate, now their run down
house in the worst neighborhood in their school district made
sense. “He sounds like my mom. She pretty much collapsed when my
dad took off. Your dad is probably depressed too―”

“
He's a worthless asshole,” Sam had
snapped, every muscle tensing against her. “And he's not worth
talking about.” With that he'd pressed her back against the
blanket, covered her mouth with his, and slid his hand up the front
of her tank top. Carla had laid back and eagerly wrapped her arms
around him, letting any questions about his father or anything else
drift away on the night breeze.

Sam told her other things though. Like how
his struggles in school started after his mom died. “I didn't
really care, and there was no one around to tell me why I should
care.”

Carla understood how that could happen.
Though there were definitely smart kids in her high school - her
cousin Chris had been at the top of his class when he'd graduated
with Sam three years before Carla―the public schools in their
neighborhood were among the worst in the state. Schools were
crowded, the teachers overworked and unmotivated to chase down a
kid who wasn't interested, regardless of the cause.

Instead they focused on kids like Chris,
whose wealthy father wasn't about to let him fail, and Carla. Smart
and self motivated, she was a rundown high school teacher's dream
student. Academic achievement wasn't her only goal. Unlike Chris's
dad, her father was not a multimillionaire who would be able to
send Carla wherever she wanted to go to college. She knew the only
way she was going anywhere in life was on the power of her own
intelligence and hard work.