Baumgartner Hot Shorts (7 page)

“Ohhhh yes, Mo.” Carrie lifted her hips as Maureen’s tongue began to work its incredible magic. “Lick it. Oh, fuck, I love your mouth on me.”

Somehow she knew Doc wasn’t going to last long—being with two women at once had to be pushing him to the limits. He was fucking her valiantly, and Maureen was loving it—Carrie could tell by the way she was grinding her hips back—but he couldn’t keep up that pace for long. Carrie’s fingers spread Maureen wider, her thumb focusing on her clit, giving her a little more incentive. She was sopping wet, her juices flowing heavy and strong—Carrie could smell her musky scent.

“Oh, wait,” Doc groaned, slowing. “Oh, fuck. Wait.”

But Maureen wasn’t waiting. She was fucking him back, fast and furious, her pussy quivering and ready to come. Carrie nudged her over, using her thumb as leverage, seeing Maureen’s flat, muscled belly clench and release, knowing her pussy was milking Doc’s cock.

“Oh, damnit, I can’t stop—” Doc moaned, and Carrie grabbed his cock, sliding it quickly out of Maureen’s cunt. The first blast of his cum landed there on the hot pink flesh of her pussy and began to drip down toward Carrie’s waiting mouth, but she didn’t want to wait. Instead, she covered the head of Doc’s dick with her mouth and sucked, feeling the next wave of his orgasm exploding against her tongue, her thumb never moving from Maureen’s quivering clit.

“Naughty girl,” Maureen gasped, turning around and grasping Doc’s cock, her hand over Carrie’s. “Taking all that cum.” Then Maureen kissed her, her tongue searching and finding the residue in her mouth, the last blast of the white stuff slipping between their lips, wetting their kiss.

“You’re bad, Mo,” Carrie whispered as Maureen giggled and settled on one side of Carrie, Doc on the other, pulling the covers over them.

“Sinner extraordinaire. Going straight to hell,” Maureen agreed sleepily, snuggling close. “That’s me.”

* * * *

“Open up, Carrie!” The pounding on the door jolted the three of them awake far too soon after they’d all drifted off. “I know she’s in there! Maureen! Open this door!”

“James,” Maureen mumbled, rolling out of bed to the floor with a low groan.

“You better get it before someone calls the front desk.” Doc nudged Carrie, who was already rubbing her eyes and fumbling her way out of the morass of covers.

“Maureen, do you want to see him?” Carrie’s voice was hoarse and tired as she looked at her friend, now crawling her way toward the bathroom.

“Five minutes,” Maureen croaked. “Tell him I’ll be out in five minutes.”

Carrie unlocked the deadbolt but left the chain on. “What can I do for you, James?”

“Get her,” was all he said, his mouth barely moving with the words.

“She’ll be out in five minutes.” Carrie shut the door, leaning against it and waiting for him to pound on it again, but he didn’t. She could hear a flurry of activity in the bathroom, accompanied by an occasional soft moan of pain. She had no doubt Maureen was at least severely hungover, if not still actually somewhat drunk.

“You okay?” Carrie knocked softly on the bathroom door.

“Fine!” Maureen called, loud and overly cheerful. She opened the bathroom door, upright this time, and looked fairly good for rolling out of bed just a few moments before, although the Jovan Musk she’d sprayed only served to cover the smell of tequila underneath, in spite of her late night shower.

“Are you sure you want to go?” Carrie searched her friend’s eyes and tried to hug her, but Maureen shrugged her off.

“I have to.” She found her shoes next to the bed, slipping them on. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

Carrie nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed where Doc was half-up on his elbow, just watching.

“Maureen!” James’ voice vibrated through the door.

“Gotta go!” Maureen whispered, leaning over and kissing Carrie on the cheek, giving her a quick squeeze. “Love you!”

“Love you, too,” Carrie murmured as she watched her friend sail out the door.

“Hey now...” Doc moved behind Carrie as her shoulders sagged. She was fighting tears—but she didn’t want to cry in front of him. In front of anyone. “Are you okay?”

“I’m going to lose her.” Her voice came out strangled, choked with the emotion she was trying to hold back.

He slipped his arms around her waist. “She’s not much of a friend if she lets some guy come between you.”

“She’s...” Carrie sighed, letting herself lean back against him. “She’s not just a friend.”

“Yeah, I gathered that.” He gently kissed her neck. “And James is obviously not okay with your... relationship.”

She looked over her shoulder at him and smiled wryly. “He doesn’t share well with others.”

“Come on.” Doc stood, holding out his hand. “I know something that will cheer you up.”

“I doubt it.”

“Trust me.” He caught her hand, pulling her up. “What do you have to lose?”

Everything
, she thought, but she followed him anyway.

* * * *

They’d only managed a few hours of sleep, so the sun was just coming up over the horizon in a burst of molten orange, a brass and copper symphony playing out in reflection on the water.

Doc’s hand clasped Carrie’s as they walked barefoot along the edge of the beach. She had changed into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, her sandals swinging from her other hand as the lacy edge of the water chased their footsteps down the shoreline. Doc was still wearing last night’s clothes—they both needed a shower and a good night’s sleep, but neither of them cared.

“Well, you were right.” Carrie snuck a glance up at him, smiling at the tousled mess of his hair.

Doc laughed. “Wow, I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard a woman say those words out loud.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “This did cheer me up.”

“Oh, I’m not done cheering you up yet,” he said, stopping and putting his arms around her waist.

“No?”

“You can’t see it, but...” He touched his finger to her lips. “Your mouth is still turned down a little at the corners.”

“Is it?”

He nodded seriously. “That means my job isn’t done yet.”

“Well I guess you’d better get to work...” She felt her mouth curling up into a smile.

“Agreed.” He leaned in so close she could feel his breath, her eyes closing in anticipation. “I think I’d better start here.”

His mouth captured hers, a sweet, gentle kiss, nothing demanding or insistent, but it still made her knees weak.

“That’s a good place to start,” she breathed as they parted.

“But not the best place to finish.” He grinned. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” She had no choice but to follow him down the beach as he led the way around a patch of sea grass and up toward a house. “What is this place?”

“It’s my parents’ place.” He dug into his jeans and plucked out a key.

“Nice.” It was cool inside, the air conditioning on—even the dew-wet mornings in Key West were warm and humid. It was large and spacious and utterly quiet.

He led the way, up a flight of stairs, opening a door to a bathroom. “Would you like a shower? Or maybe a bath?”

The tub was huge, black and marble and Carrie’s eyes lit up when she saw it.

“A bath,” she said immediately.

Doc took some towels out from the linen closet and put them on the counter. “I’ll get us some breakfast.”

She ran a hot bath and added the bubbles sitting at the side of the tub as well, melting into the water.
I’m dreaming
, she thought, floating lazily, eyes closed, her thoughts filled with Doc. She should have been worried about Maureen—and she was, a little. But the man downstairs cooking them both breakfast had somehow stepped into her life and obliterated everything else.

This is crazy
, she decided, washing her hair and rinsing it, then running a soft, fragrant bar of soap over her curves. She was imagining him, his hands on her, touching her like that. This night—morning, now—wasn’t going to end without sex. They both knew it, but the anticipation was exhilarating.

She found a large, fluffy white robe hanging on the back of the door and wrapped herself in it, making her way downstairs. Doc was in the kitchen, the radio on—a blues station—flipping pancakes in one pan and worrying eggs in another.

“It smells fantastic.” She curled herself into one of the kitchen chairs, plucking a banana from a bunch on the table and peeling it. “Can I help?”

“You sit.” He slid pancakes onto their plates and then scrambled eggs. “I’ll serve.”

“That’s a switch.” She smiled as he put a plate in front of her. His dark curls were wet—he’d obviously taken the time to take a shower and he was still wearing boxers, but they were a different pair.

“I hope it’s okay.” He nodded at her food, already halfway through his eggs.

“Yummy,” she agreed, pouring syrup and licking some off her fingers. His gaze was on her, although his fork didn’t stop moving from plate to mouth.

“So why do they call you ‘Doc?’”

“Pre-med.” He swallowed and then grinned. “And I used to, uh... be the guy you could get stuff from.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Used to?”

“Yeah, well...” He grabbed a bottle of ketchup and squirted more onto his eggs. “Once you start med school you really get an education about what better living through chemistry can do to you in the long run.”

She nodded, making a happy noise when she took a bite of pancakes. “Chocolate chips!”

He smiled. “So what about you? I know you work in the cafeteria. I know you’re graduating next year. What’s your major?”

“Business administration.” She took a sip of orange juice and made a face—too sour after the sugary sweetness of pancakes.

“Really?” His eyebrows went up. “I didn’t figure you for a business major. I thought you’d be into something more creative... art major or something...”

“If I had a choice, I’d be a creative writing major,” she admitted, sopping up syrup with the last of her pancakes.

“Don’t you?” He frowned. “Have a choice, I mean?”

“Not if I want to get a job when I graduate.”

He nodded. “Family pressure?”

The silence stretched for a moment and then she said quietly, “I don’t have one.”

“You don’t have a family?”

“My parents and little brother were killed in a car accident when I was sixteen,” she explained. She didn’t talk about it often, mostly because she hated the sympathy. She hated anyone feeling sorry for her, and of course she knew he was going to say it...

“I’m sorry.”

She nodded. “Thanks.” She was already used to the awkward pause that followed.

Doc cleared his throat and said, “So tell me about you and Maureen.”

“We’re roommates.” She wiped her mouth on a napkin—linen. “Best friends since freshman year...”

“And lovers,” he added.

“Yes,” she admitted, flushing.

“But you’re not just into women...” He looked at her quizzically. “I mean, unless I’m crazy, I get a pretty strong vibe that you like men, too. At least, some of us...”

She smiled. “I’m an equal opportunity lover.” Glancing up at him, she asked, “Does that bother you?”

“Hell no.” He gave a short bark of a laugh. “After last night, you have to ask?”

She stopped short of rolling her eyes. “Ah, the whole lesbian fantasy thing.”

Grinning, Doc leaned back in his chair. “Well, come on... I don’t know a straight guy who doesn’t get off on that.”

Carrie wiped her finger around the edge of her plate, capturing the very last of sweetness. “Talk to James.”

Doc rolled his eyes. “Well, I meant outside of the puritanical future ministers of the world.”

“I’ve never been with a man and a woman at the same time before,” she admitted.

He tipped his chair back down, leaning his elbows on the table. “Did it turn you on?”

“Yeah.” She smiled. “You?”

“Being with two women?” he scoffed. “Like I said, might as well die and go to heaven now.”

Carrie frowned. “Don’t you think one woman is enough?”

“She could be...” He laced his hands behind his head and looked at her. “If she was the right one.”

They were playing a game now, cat and mouse. “How would you know?”

“I’d know.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “So you haven’t met her yet...?”

“I didn’t say that.” He laughed. “Come here.” He held a hand out and she took it, letting him pull her toward him. He situated her, standing, between his knees. “Carrie, I have to tell you something.”

“Hm?” She was distracted by the way his hands cupped her hips, even through the thickness of the robe.

“But I don’t want to scare you away again,” he admitted, looking up at her.

“You won’t.” Her fingers tangled themselves in his hair. Standing so close to him, feeling the flex of his thighs against hers, was making her crazy.

“Well... the first thing is...” He looked up at her sheepishly. “The poker game was fixed.”