Scarlet Letter Anthology

Animals - @AmiTheDarkLady

Show Us Your Story Winner

~ First Place ~

Excerpt taken from the story Make It Known by AmiTheDarkLady

The frustration flowing through my body right now is so real that walking through downtown Toronto towards The Press's parking lot a block away is an unhappy chore. As I stride down the sidewalk, bathed in the half-glow of streetlights flickering brightly against the darkened sky, the biting evening air cools the heat from my inflamed cheeks.

I climb up the few flights of stairs to the floor of the parkade I parked on this morning. There are very few vehicles and it's pretty much deserted. I walk morosely to my car, turn on the ignition, blast the temperature and fans on high. My forehead hits the steering wheel and I let out an unhappy moan, wallowing in self-pity as I wait for the engine and the cold leather to heat up.

I need to calm down a little, get my head straight, before I can trust myself to drive home.

I lick my now slightly chapped lips, Gavin's taste still lingering. I think back to the elevator... Oh my God. Wherever that was going, it was so damn hot. I've never been kissed like that before in my life. I blush just thinking about it; the hungry, insatiable way he attacked my mouth, gave me no room to breathe or think... the way his hands roamed all over my body, like he was physically starved for me. I'm aroused beyond belief just remembering it.

How am I going to look at him tomorrow morning, think rationally about my case that I should be obsessing over? Now I'm obsessing over him, neck-deep in the mess of estrogen and progesterone and oxytocin and need that I'm practically drowning in. When did I get so damn needy?

I don't know how long I sit there, but it's long enough for my car to become almost stiflingly warm. I twist down the heater and then nearly jump from a soft rapping on my window.

When I turn to see what's going on, my heart actually soars into the starless sky hidden beyond the slabs of concrete above us.

What he's doing here, how he found me, I don't give a flying crap. Gavin looks at me through the glass, and the want and frustration and irritation and desire on his gorgeous face are a perfect picture of everything I feel right now.

I push open the door, it shuts behind me, I meet his dark, bright gaze for one whole second before I reach for his tie, tugging him to me, and our bodies crash together and he pushes me against the driver's door, lets his briefcase fall to the ground and kisses me in that catastrophic way only he is capable of. His fingers knot into my hair, I whimper against his mouth, my entire being filled to the brim with electricity and emotion and a kind of debilitating, weakening longing that I have never experienced before. Before him.

I fumble beside us for the back door, he pulls away enough for me to get in. I shed my coat and toss it into the front of the car while he climbs in after me, locking the doors and discarding his jacket and then reaching for me again.

We are an awkward tangle of arms and legs and heavy, labored breaths as we impatiently claw and grab at each other's clothing in the small, cramped compartment of my car. The engine's still running and we're destroying the ozone layer and breaking no-idle legislation but he's helping me strip out of my jeans, I'm unbuckling his belt. It would be more efficient for each of us to undress ourselves but that would mean we'd have to stop touching each other, and I can't keep my hands off of him, he can't tear his mouth away from me.

When we're left in our underwear, he uses his warm, large hands on my hips to lay me down onto the seat, he hovers over me, I spread my legs and he rubs his erection roughly into the space between my thighs, his mouth and tongue and lips tangled with mine. My hips grind feverishly against him, fire igniting across every inch inside and out of me, inhuman moans tumbling out of both our breathless lungs. He reaches between us and I cry out when he actually rips the weak, flimsy material of my panties, shreds the thin string around my hipbone into two, tosses it away and finds my soaked heat with his fingers, stroking and pushing and teasing my swollen flesh while I writhe and pant beneath his hot, heavy, perfect body.

I cling to his shoulders, arch upwards against him so he can unclip my bra, let it fall away. I moan when he removes his fingers from between my legs, brings them to his mouth to taste me, looking into my hooded eyes when he sucks my wetness off his skin. And then it's his boxers that we twist and fumble to tug off, he guides my thighs around him into a crooked but effective angle and the burning tip of him nudges my folds, he whispers low, throaty profanities into my ear. One of my arms is bent backwards to grip the sturdy leather handle of the door, the other digs into the muscle of his shoulder, he holds one of my legs and uses the other arm to prop himself up.

I don't say anything, neither does he. We are like animals acting on our basest instincts, knowing what to do because it's coursing through our blood. I tilt up and he pushes forward down into me and we both curse obscenely into the muggy air around us, there is no finesse or planning or comfort, we just grind and rock and thrust and bump together, skin sliding against skin, the whole thick, pulsing length of him ramming into me and my core clenching greedily around him, taking everything he gives me and asking, begging, crying for more.

He peels his lips away from mine to lavish his attention on my breasts, tweaking and pulling and sucking my tight, hardened nipples while I hold onto him for dear life.

Our fingers tangle together against the door, the sound of flesh meeting flesh and my sighs and his grunts mixing with the thick smell of our sin in the confined space around us. I feel it when each wave, each strand of pleasure builds together, rises and rises and tugs and then explodes into sheer ecstasy. I breathe out his name, a hoarse, strangled whisper, and he pushes roughly into me a couple more times before I feel the hot eruption of his orgasm deep between my legs.

I let out a gasp of satisfaction, he swears into my shoulder. We don't move, not for a few minutes, not after that.

When we eventually shift, unstick our sweat-soaked skin and groan from the strain of it, the windows of my car are all misted over, like in the movies. I've never had sex in a car before. I'm starting to think Gavin and I could have each other anywhere and it would still be mind-blowingly, astoundingly incredible.

"Shit, Melanie." His voice is foggy with sex. He looks over to where I'm sitting beside him, dazed and still out of breath. "You have no idea how fucking crazy you make me."

And in spite of everything, I giggle. "I think we're both certifiable, Gavin. Holy hell."

When I meet his eyes this time, they're softer, and the heavy feelings I see tumbling around in them make my heart expand a couple sizes, fill my insides with fluttering swarms of butterflies.

He reaches for my hand, laces our fingers together and pulls me towards him. I lean into his warm, solid chest and he wraps his arms around me, placing a gentle kiss to the top of my head. "What are you doing to me, Mel?" The quiet words rumble into my hair, I nuzzle my face against his shoulder, the affection and fondness between us so palpable and tangible that it's scary but inescapable, undeniable and heady and addictive and it feels so good and right to have this soft, glowing bubble around us, infiltrating my skin and my brain and my beating, pounding heart.

We're both in so much trouble but I can't let him go.