Carnal Desires, page 1
Naughty Hot Shots: Carnal Desires by Kara Huntington
ISBN: 978-1-927415-95-5
Smashwords Edition 2014
Edited by Cynthia Boudreaux
Published by: Naughty Nights Press
http://naughtynightspress.com/
Cover Design by Shane Willis, RAD ACT Photography
http://www.radactphoto.com/
Additional Photo Credit: MJ Ranum
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Carnal Desires
I’d just gotten off of another hour-long video chat with my soon-to-be-husband half an hour earlier, but I still couldn’t force his oily voice from my mind.
To say he wasn’t a very attractive man would have been an understatement. On top of this, he was at least twenty years my senior. He knew he had a good thing and insisted on keeping tabs on me while I was in America.
As a trade for my hand in marriage I demanded I would be allowed to go to school on his dime, but he would have agreed to almost anything after laying eyes on me that first time.
I wasn’t tall but I was lean and dark-skinned with beautiful blue-black hair and dark eyes. My best quality, I am told, are my lips. One of my American friends liked to call me the Hindu Indian version of Angelina Jolie. Unfortunately none of this was going to stop the marriage between me and Ajay. If anything my beauty came in second to his wealth and prestige.
Regrettably, Ajay was a pig. He’d divorced his last three wives in exchange for newer, shinier models as soon as they hit their thirties, but social class was everything to my parents and I had little choice in the matter if I was going to remain a relevant member of the family. Being the social climbers that they were, they were more than willing to sacrifice their only daughter in exchange for going up a few rungs on the ladder of the rich and respected.
After an hour of being sexually harassed by someone who I privately nicknamed Java the Hut, on top of the fact that all he wanted was to marry me just so that he could throw me away a few years down the line, solidified my final decision to defy them all.
I’d been able to delay the inevitable marriage by negotiating my willingness to marry Ajay for four years of freedom in an American college of my choosing, but after four years I’d decided I’d had enough of being controlled by heartless family and horny old men. I was going to be bad. It was my senior year of college and despite all the flack I’d gotten from my parents for coming to school in America, I’d never once gone to a party and had lurid sex with any one of the eligible campus males.
I’d heard of more than just a few family friends back in India who found shame when it came time for their daughter’s wedding to be consummated and her new husband made the shocking discovery that he wasn’t the first man to play hide the snake with his supposed virginal bride.
Not me though. I’d done everything they asked. I’d gotten a job, played a sport…though I hardly thought they were thinking ping pong when they made the request and I’d joined a sorority.
Four short years later, I found myself at the head of my class with a grade point average of 3.99, and a small savings for the day when my soon-to-be-husband grew tired of me, a small shelf full of ping pong trophies and more sweater sets than anyone other than Martha Stewart or the First Lady of the United States, should ever own.
At the moment, my roommate Jessica and her long-time boyfriend were doing things in her dark half of the room that I’d literally visualized doing at least once an hour since turning thirteen years old. Here I was now, age twenty-one with one hand over my mouth and the other down my Mickey Mouse pajama bottoms with my eyes rolled back in my head, praying I had enough control over my orgasm that I didn’t scream out Jason’s name right alongside Jessica. That probably went against some sort of unspoken roommate code that I didn’t know about.
As soon as my heart rate slowed back into the normal range, I tried to quietly head for the showers, where sadly I’d probably do it again.
They noticed I was awake and stage whispered to one another to be quiet, giggling like idiots. I rolled my eyes at them even though they couldn’t see me.
Though Jessica and Jason’s recreational activities had been the inspiration for many a late night stress relief, I didn’t particularly care for either of them. She was blonde, snotty, and so self-absorbed that she hadn’t spent more than a total of an hour in the past four years to get to know anything about me. The entire first semester of our freshman year she had convinced herself that I didn’t even know English.
Jason was her male twin in every way. I didn’t think that two people who slept together should be alike enough to be confused as a brother and sister figure skating team, but it didn’t seem to bother them. I guess with a conjoined ego the size of theirs it was kind of flattering to know that you were fucking yourself in the opposite gender.
I walked into the bathroom and started the shower. It was only four am but I could use the extra time to go for another jog.
I’d taken up running quite recently as yet another way to relieve some of the growing tension between me and my vagina. We weren’t getting along at all, and all that jogging seemed to do was tire me out long enough to concentrate on my classes. Then before I knew it, the next hormonal tidal wave would hit and it left me looking at the football team like they were a buffet table at Cesar’s Palace.
I stepped under the hot spray and tried to concentrate on actually getting clean. My habits were becoming tiresome and always left me feeling less than satisfied, but even just those small releases felt better than the constant aching need between my legs that threatened to make me lose control.
I couldn’t do this anymore. This was inhuman, cruel punishment in a day and age when a woman’s sexual needs and desires could easily be met by almost anyone willing to finish the job.
And there I was again…
The shower curtain ripped open and the naked guy standing there looked almost as shocked to see me as I was to see him.
My first thought was, Thank Rati, the Hindu Goddess of love and carnal desires. I normally wasn’t very spiritual, but that was before I knew Rati special-ordered hot, naked men just because you wished for one hard enough, and he was very hot and very naked.
He was tall, with wide muscular shoulders and a golden summer tan. He had blue eyes and dark blond hair with a jaw that could have been featured in any number of men’s shaving advertisements.
As the initial shock and shower fog cleared I realized I was standing there in front of an unknown, undressed man in my bathroom with my hand still between my legs.
His eyes looked me over casually and a slow smile spread over his face before he ended up at my eyes again. “Don’t stop on my account.”
In response I chucked a shampoo bottle at his face and screamed like a little girl.
He brought a finger up to his lips to hush me and looked over his shoulder at the bathroom door.
The telltale thumping of our den mother’s angry approach left a panicked expression on his face. He dove into the shower just as the bathroom door was pushed open. He wrapped one hand around my waist and another over my mouth, very gently and before I could react.
“Please don’t tell her I’m here.” He whispered into my ear, using a bedroom voice that would have dropped me to my knees if he wasn’t holding me up.
I’m not sure if it was the overload of hormones frying my brain cells faster than crystal meth, but I nodded my head in agreement and he set
I stuck my face through the curtain to look at her. “What’s wrong, Miss Betty?”
“I heard a scream. Is there a man in the house?”
Our den mother, Miss Betty, had this habit of thinking that having a man in the house past hours would automatically elicit a warning scream from any one of the girls. She’d come running if you screamed at your homework in frustration or screamed about seeing an ant in your cereal. I’ve even seen her appear when a girl dropped a jar of pickles in the kitchen and each time she’d arrive, she’d automatically say, “I heard a scream. Is there a man in the house?”
Despite her due diligence as far as I knew, she’d never actually caught a man wandering around the house after hours, and as far as I knew this was the closest she’d ever come to doing so, even though this particular sorority had more men in it after hours then most of the frat houses.
He ran his fingers over my back teasingly lower and lower and I went glassy eyed and forgot what I was supposed to be doing.
“Are you okay?” Miss Betty asked.
I cleared my throat and resisted the urge to jump when one of his clever hands found its way to the front. Years of social and parental training kicked in and I locked my free hand around his wrist, preventing him from getting any closer to his main objective.
“I’m fine. You probably just had a bad dream.” I said soothingly to the elderly, round little woman, who’d probably joined the sorority the year it was first instated.
I smiled at her warmly. She really was more of a mother to me than my own had ever been. She stayed up with me almost the whole first night I was here because I was so homesick for India. She’d taken care of many a girl with a cold and helped with group projects even if she looked tired. I suddenly felt very bad about deceiving her for some naked man that was currently doing his best to molest me in a shower right in front of her, but I knew if I said anything she’d have to report me, and then my parents would find out and then…shame upon me and my whole family, yada, yada, yada.
Because irony is a tricky bitch, Miss Betty smiled warmly at me and patted my cheek affectionately. “Okay, my good girl. Don’t work too hard. This is your senior year. You need to enjoy the last of it before it’s too late.”
My house mother was well aware of my arranged marriage. My parents had been sure she understood the rules of this before allowing me to join this particular sorority. They’d basically stopped just short of fitting me for a chastity belt before I boarded the plane to America four years earlier.
Miss Betty locked the door behind her, before making her way back to her bedroom.
I spun on sexy, naked, guy and glared daggers at his still-grinning face. “Do you know what could have happened just now?” I hissed.
He shrugged. “You were doing me a favor. I thought I would just help you out a little, too.”
I glared at him again as questions flitted into my hormone-damaged brain. “Why are you here? Who are you here to see? Who the hell are you?”
He held up a finger. “You get one.” He shook his head. “I like what we have going here and I want to keep some sort of mystery between us. So you get one question…but,” he said as an afterthought, “it’s going to cost you.”
I nearly moaned out loud at the possibilities. “Cost me what?”
He narrowed his eyes in thought. “It’s going to cost you a kiss.”
My nipples hardened. What was I doing? What was I thinking? I was standing in a shower with a naked guy I’d never met and he was plea bargaining sexual favors for answers to obvious questions any woman would want answers to in this situation.
I held up three fingers. “Three questions and you have to be honest.”
His smile deepened. “Two, and I get to choose where I get to kiss you.”
I whimpered and bit my bottom lip like a diabetic outside of Willy Wonka’s front gate.
He knew he had me. His blue eyes were flashing brightly.
“You have to answer the questions first.” I whispered.
“No way, I know how this works. If I answer your questions you’ll have no reason to stick around.”
I could cross "mind reader" off the list of who this man might be.
“Answer them or it’s a no go.” I said firmly.
He sighed dramatically. “Fine.”
“Okay, why are you here?”
He smiled. “I’m here to see someone.”
“Who?” Damn it. That was two.
He raised an eyebrow. “You.”
I glared. “You aren’t supposed to lie. Deal’s off.”
“How do you know I’m lying?” He crossed his well-muscled arms over his incredibly hot, sexy chest but I wasn’t going to let it slow me down.
“Because you don’t even know me.” I said.
“That doesn’t mean I don’t know of you.” He was smirking again. The bastard.
“I don’t believe you.” I countered maturely.
“Why?” He whispered softly while getting down onto his knees. He put his hands on my hips, pulling me towards him, and all systems were go. I couldn’t have told you my name much less answer his damn question in that moment.
My hands automatically clamped down on his wrists and tried pushing him away as reality rushed into my thoughts.
He gripped my ass tightly and shook his head. “A deal’s a deal.”
“Just a kiss?” I whimpered.
“Just one.” He growled.
I loosened my hold on his hands and he nuzzled that place just under my pelvic bone that makes me twitch because it’s so sensitive and ticklish, then he pressed his lips right there for a long moment. Groaning and looking super uncomfortable as he rose to his feet. He winked at me before getting out of the shower, covering his massive erection the best he could with one hand.
I leaned against the shower wall for support until he was dressed and out the window. “Holy crap.”
***
Later that day I found myself looking for him in my classes and around campus. After four years this was sadly the first time I’d bothered to pay much attention to anyone I went to school with. I didn’t have a lot of friends because my main goal in coming to college was to get a degree and get out with my virginity intact, both of which didn’t exactly make me a hit at parties.
At one point I thought I spotted him amongst a crowd of under graduates, but when the guy in question turned to face me I barely concealed my disappointment long enough to scurry away, tugging nervously at my mint green sweater set.
I arrived for my final —and favorite— class of the day: Creative Writing. My notebooks were neatly stacked on top of my laptop and a sharpened pencil was already in hand. If I didn’t focus on my studies my grades would slip, and that would give my parents just the excuse they needed to pull me out of school early to wed me off to Java the Hut.
The stairs beside me squeaked and sadly I was able to identify my mystery man just by seeing his well-muscled thighs through a pair of jeans as he lowered himself into the seat beside me. I didn’t look over at him. Instead and I tightened my jaw and went about opening my notebook to the proper page.
Ignoring my icy behavior he lowered his arm across my shoulders and whispered into my ear. “You have any more questions for me?”
I looked over at my cousin Ned. My fiancée had insisted on sending him to college along with me, as long as Ned reported back any suspicious behavior on my part.
At the moment Ned was watching me like a trained dog so I shrugged mystery man’s arm off my shoulders. “You’re going to get me in trouble.”
He looked around me to see who had prompted my comment then sat back. “If that’s your boyfriend, I don’t blame you for playing the piano solo in the shower.”
A deep blush colored my already dark cheeks. “He’s not my boyfriend. He’s my babysitter.” I mumbled.
Mystery Guy leaned in again, looking worried. “Wait, how old are you?”
“Twenty-one.” I hissed.
He clapped a hand over his chest and leaned back in his seat. “Oh, thank god.” Then he sat up again. “Why does a grown woman need a babysitter, exactly?” He may have asked the question, but the twinkle in his eyes said he knew more than he was admitting.
“Because she has a very jealous, very rich fiancée waiting to tear into her hymen as soon as she gets back home.”
