One handed, he flicked the blanket out and pulled her down to it. He tucked her against his side as though it was the most natural thing in the world, his arm around her back, his hand now resting on the bare skin of her thigh below her shorts. A cool breeze drifted over her skin, but Carla didn't feel the cold. Not with Sam so solid against her, his body throwing of waves of heat so fierce she half expected her skin to start sizzling where he touched her.
In the distance she could hear the muffled conversation and laughs from the others. She wondered if he could feel the way her heart was beating so fast she could feel it in the tips of her fingers, in her stomach.
Between her legs.
She struggled to control her breath, embarrassed that she was panting like a dog when he'd done nothing more than touch her leg.
“I love how you can see all the stars up here,” he said in a low voice. “I bet if you knew what to look for, you could find every constellation in the sky.”
Carla slanted him a look. She could make out his profile, shadowed in the moonlight. It was impossible to read his expression, but there was no way he’d brought her up here just to look at the stars.
When was he going to kiss her? There was a nervous twist in her stomach. Carla tried to cover it up with a snappy retort. “Right, and I bet you're going to try to show me the Big Dipper.”
A laugh exploded from his chest. “Not unless you want me to.”
“It's right up there,” Carla said, pointing at the constellation, so distinct in the clear night sky.
“Where... oh, wait, I can see it. Cool.”
“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.
Chapter 4
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.