Page 104 of Craving Carla
I know I’m in for a long night. Carla’s going to find out just how beautiful she is to a world that doesn’t want to admit it, and I’m going to bend her over, pull that dress up over her ass, and fuck her right here on this sofa when we get back.
I walk to the bottom of the stairs and help her down the last step, then watch her giggle as I lift her arm, getting her to twirl so I can get a better view of her ass. She catches me looking when she finishes her spin and faces me. She grins, then tugs down her dress with innocent eyes.
My gaze shifts, and I lick my lips, staring at her like a predator ready to hunt. I’ve been holding off feeding on Carla because she can’t feel the mate bond. Her blood would taste so much sweeter and become an obsession for me if she could. So I’ll wait, drinking the disgusting after-hours blood that’s been siphoned from humans’ bodies, warmed in the microwave just to be tolerable. I nearly gag just thinking about it.
I slowly approach her, grinning down at those beautiful innocent green eyes.
“Ready?” I ask, and she nods. “You look lovely, Carla. More beautiful than I imagined.”
She blushes, and I lean in to steal another kiss. I take her hand and lead her to the door, helping her into her jacket. I make a mental note to get her a longer coat, then open the door and help her out.
“Where are we going?” she asks as I walk her to the SUV.
“The tourist island,” I answer, helping her inside. “I’ve got something special planned for you.”
She starts to say something—I know it’s a protest—but I quickly shut the door and round the vehicle, climbing into the driver’s seat. I grin at her, and she immediately drops the subject. Smart woman.
I start the engine and pull away from the cabin, Carla’s scent filling the SUV. I reach across the console and take her hand, bringing it to my lips for a kiss. Her fingers tremble slightly against mine, a mix of excitement and nervousness that makes me smile.
36
Carla
Amari helps me off the boat, his hand soft and steady against mine. The wooden planks of the dock shift slightly as we make our way toward the winding streets of the tourist island. I walk a few steps ahead, but I can feel his eyes on me, making my skin tingle. Every few seconds, I glance back, catching that smug grin that tells me exactly what he’s looking at.
“Enjoying the view?” I ask, tugging my dress down self-consciously.
The night has cleared most tourists from the streets, leaving only a few restaurants open, along with the tourist hotel and Midnight Moon nightclub. Their lights spill across the ground, illuminating the almost-empty pathways.
I notice how I’m starting to blend in with the few remaining tourists—women in outfits similar to mine walking arm-in-arm with their dates, some of them glancing my way with approving smiles. I’ve never experienced this before—the feeling of fittingin, of being just another woman on a night out rather than the feared Spider Queen.
A group of men nearby linger too long, their eyes trailing over me with obvious interest. Before I can react, Amari catches up, sliding his arm around my waist possessively. His fangs flash briefly as he stares them down, and they immediately back away, recognition dawning in their eyes as they realize what he is.
“Those idiots,” Amari says, taking my hand and pressing his lips against it. “You’ve always had the male gaze, Carla. You just don’t notice because you’re usually in uniform, which makes men hesitant to look your way.”
“Right,” I say, not believing him for a second.
“It’s amazing how clueless you are to your own beauty,” he continues, his golden eyes locked on mine. “It’s so natural to you, you don’t even realize it.”
Heat rises to my cheeks, and I have to look away from the intensity of his gaze. The way he stares at me—like I’m the only woman in the world, like everything else around us has faded away—it’s overwhelming.
Amari smiles, still holding my hand as he guides me through the retail area. We stop in front of one of the restaurants, and I recognize it immediately—the best on the island, a place I’ve walked past countless times but never entered.
The hostess stiffens when she sees us, her eyes shifting nervously between me and Amari. She’s human, one of the employees living in the community apartments, and I’ve seen that look before—the fear, the hesitation. A wave of familiar discomfort settles in my stomach.
Before she can say anything, Damon appears behind her, and her eyes immediately drop to the floor. I’m surprised to see him here, and when I look at Amari, he’s grinning like he’s been keeping a secret.
“I thought you’d be more comfortable with this being a double date,” he says. “Hope you don’t mind.”
I shake my head quickly, relief washing over me. I’ve never been on a real date before, let alone in a fancy restaurant. Having Damon here makes it feel less intimidating.
Amari and Damon greet each other with a strange handshake, gripping each other’s forearms and leaning in for a back pat. It’s a familiar gesture between old friends that speaks volumes about their history.
“Amari,” Damon says, adjusting his suit as he looks me over with an approving smile, “you have quite the woman. She’s lovely.”
The compliment catches me off guard, and I feel my face flush again. Damon walks around Amari and helps me out of my jacket, holding it out to the hostess who takes it reluctantly.
“This way,” Damon says, motioning for us to follow.
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