Chapter 21
21
CARSON
“ A lfred Farrol, quite the beneficiary of generational wealth. He died a year ago, it seems. Officially, he had a boating accident off the coast of Thailand. Unofficially, he was partying with several prostitutes on a yacht when he did too much coke, had a stroke, and fell into the water and drowned.” I scroll through some more of my notes. “He and Mrs. Farrol hadn’t been living together for years, though they remained somewhat friendly. Did a few gala appearances every year, things like that.”
“And they had one son, right?”
“Yes, he seems to be on the same path as his father, but that’s a story for another day. As it stands, the husband is a dead end.”
May cuts her gaze toward me. “Another pun?”
“I thought we were only doing cat puns?” I slide my laptop onto the coffee table and lean over to look at her screen.
“We can always branch out if you’re feeling frisky.”
I throw my arm around her shoulders. “I see what you did there.”
“I’d expect nothing less.” She’s digging through articles about Sorcha von Heffinlind, the billionaire heiress who lives alone in Paris, owns properties all over the globe, and in general, leads an extremely luxurious life. “Never married. Fabulously wealthy. Well-traveled. Still looks pretty damn hot for someone in her sixties. What would she even have to be mad about? I mean, if she’d wanted Mr. Farrol and lost him when he got married, the truth is that she dodged a bullet. That guy was no good.”
“Agree.” Why does this feel like we’ve done it a million times? Just the two of us together reading through evidence and background material, as if we’re old-timey cop show partners who finish each other’s sentences. It’s not just comfortable, it’s fucking wonderful .
“I know,” she says to Mousey, who’s perched on the arm of the couch beside May. “The hats are unmistakable.” She clicks through photo after photo of von Heffinlind, some of them almost thirty years old or more. Always, she’s dressed for the runway, and for the vast majority of the time, she’s wearing a hat. It’s her trademark. May keeps scrolling, then stops. “Look at this!” She points to an advertisement from an old magazine with a paparazzi shot of von Heffinlind looking sly as she leaves a swanky apartment building. In the foreground is a perfume bottle labeled, Have the Affair . In script, it says, My signature scent. Smell like an heiress .
“Do you think you could identify the smell from the house that day? The strange one?” she asks Mousey.
I grab my phone and search for the closest department store.
“She can.” May turns to me.
“Already on it. They still make that same perfume.” I place a rush order, for immediate delivery. “Should be here in thirty minutes or less.” I get a message from Squirrel, headlined “found the plates and more,” but toss my phone.
She keeps tapping through gossip rag stories, her teeth worrying her bottom lip. I follow the line of her neck to the pale skin of her bare shoulder.
“I can get a lot done in thirty minutes.” She taps her screen to enlarge a photo of our quarry.
“So can I.” I press my lips to her shoulder.
A small gasp catches in her throat.
Mousey jumps down and disappears as I toss May’s laptop onto the side chair. I kiss along her exposed skin, every inch of it having taunted me for the entire time we were out investigating. Does she have any idea what she does to me? It’s a wonder I could concentrate at all when we were alone at the country club. Even in that ridiculous room covered in Mrs. Farrol memorabilia, I was completely attuned to May, to her sharp mind and each twist or turn her thoughts took. To the way her skin has this amazing luminosity, as if she’s almost glowing.
I keep kissing, my tongue trailing along her softness as I move to her collarbone. Her breath hitches, her head lolling back as I trace the line of it, every bit of her soft and sweet.
“What are you doing to me?” Her voice is breathy, so fucking sexy.
“What I’ve been thinking about doing from the moment I saw you.” I take her chin and pull her mouth to mine, kissing her with every bit of my raw need. I was comfortable sitting here with her, working together like two old friends. But I can’t deny my attraction, my constant desire to touch her. As much as I love her unique mind, I’m just as obsessed with her body.
Her hands go to my shoulders as I push her back onto the couch, my body pressing into hers as a soft moan rises in her throat.
It takes every ounce of willpower I have, but I break the kiss for a moment. “Is it too much?” I grate out, staring into her eyes. Can she feel how hard my heart is beating, how much I want her?
“No. More.” She leans up and reclaims my lips, and with that simple motion, she sends me over an edge I didn’t realize was there.
I kiss her deeply and press my knee between her thighs. She opens for me, and when my leg comes into contact with her hot pussy, I lose a piece of my sanity. Maybe more than just a piece.
I reach down and slide a hand beneath her shirt, then cup her breast. When I find bare skin, a growl vibrates somewhere down deep in me. “No bra?” I rasp against her lips.
“I don’t like them,” she gasps as I pinch her nipple.
I run my teeth along her throat, then bite down lightly as I move my other leg between her thighs. She spreads wider, so generous, so goddamn perfect. I press my cock against her sex, and when I feel her heat through the fabric of our clothes, I return to her mouth, tonguing her deep as I rock against her.
She holds on to me, her body tense as I hold my weight on one elbow, my other hand feeling her perfect tit and her tantalizing nipple. She moves her hips with me, her breaths coming faster. I yank her shirt all the way up and duck my head to her breast. Fastening my lips around her hard nub, I suck hard. She arches, her nails digging into my shoulders.
“Carson!” Her voice is high and sweet, surprised and delighted, sexy and delicious.
I need more of her. All of her.
Moving down her body, I kiss her shivering stomach, then go lower, stripping off her pants and panties with a rough yank before burying my face in her pussy. Fuck, I love the smell of her, the taste of her sweetness on my tongue.
“Carson!” She arches again, her body electric as I tongue her wet flesh, one hand still on her breast.
“Fuck my face,” I growl against her. “Ride it, May.”
She looks down at me, her eyes wide. Fuck yes.
“Eyes on me. I want to see you come.” I want her to watch as I make her come apart. She does just what I say, moving her hips against me as I suck her clit and tongue her hole.
When I focus on her clit, her hips buck more erratically. Then I go hard, flicking my tongue over and over again. Easing two fingers inside her tight cunt, I pulse them, finger-fucking her and wishing it was my cock.
Her back bows off the couch, and she lets out a keening cry as she comes, her pussy spasming around my fingers as I curl them, rubbing and thrusting as I continue sucking her off.
When she presses her thighs against my ears, I kiss her pussy, then back off. But just a little. I want another taste.
“I need you.” She reaches for me, her hands in my hair as she pulls.
“You have me.”
“I need you inside me,” she begs.
I groan, my cock kicking in my pants as I climb back up her gorgeous body. Fucking her is a dream, an absolute firecracker of a delusion.
“Carson, please.” She lifts her hips, rubbing against me, my cock straining toward her. “I want it. I want you.”
Reaching down, I unhook my pants and push them and my boxers down. My cock hangs heavy and aching, and when I press it against her wet skin, I think a vein in my brain might explode because I see stars.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” I look into her eyes, still glazed with lust.
“I want to feel you. All of you.” She presses her hips against me again, the head of my cock teasing into her tight hole. It’s too much. It’s too fucking good. I’m lost to her. She kisses me, her tongue claiming mine as I press inside her.
She clutches my neck, pulling me down as I push farther inside her, then farther still. Taking all of her, feeling her soft walls claim me as her own. She stills for a moment.
I pull back. “Are you okay?”
“Don’t stop.” She gasps, her lips swollen from my kisses. “Never stop.”
I take her mouth and thrust myself fully into her tight cunt. A shiver of pure pleasure rolls up my spine and rattles around in my brainstem, and I thrust again, and again, and again. She takes me, her body stretching around me as I fuck her, learning her body and worshipping it. My lips on hers, one hand in her hair, the other between us. I have to get her off again, and soon. My cock is already desperate to blow inside her, to coat her in my cum. Fuck, I’m already on edge, my balls drawn up tight, my mind refusing to focus on anything except the perfect pleasure of her.
Stroking her clit with my thumb, I kiss her throat, sucking her skin between my teeth as I fuck her hard. Too hard. But I can’t stop. I can’t get a grip on this primal thing between us, this total claiming of her by me, me by her.
Her cries get louder, and I feel when she comes, her pussy constricting. It’s over for me then, my circuits exploding with bliss, and I come hard, my vision blacking out as I let go. I fill her up, pumping my hips as we chase bliss together, lost in each other. I’ll never find my way out of this tangle of the two of us. What’s more, I never want to.