Warning!! This chapter contains material of an Adult Nature. If this is offensive to your sensibilities please back out now or go on to the next chapter.
"I haven't done this in years." Carly looks over at Lorenzo as she adjusts the stirrups on the English style saddle. Since Michael had been busy with Vinnie back at the farmhouse and unwilling to leave before a lesson in futbol, Carly and Lorenzo ended up going horseback riding alone. Carly has a pair of boots that would do but the riding gear is jeans and a turtleneck sweater that she's wearing her casual quilted bomber style jacket over. "Not since I was back in Florida. Not even when I was married to AJ. And the Quartermaines had a stable."
"You said you preferred your horsepower one horse at a time." Lorenzo reminds her. "And it's been quite a while since I've ridden either."
"Over ten years, Lorenzo." Carly warns.
"Not that long for me, but almost." There were some places in the world that were still only accessible by horseback. And for some reason, those place seemed to want guns more than roads. "The owner says that these two are unlikely to win any races." He'd made sure of that. The last thing he wanted was either of them to end up on the turf.
Carly laughs at that but she pats the horse on the neck. That might be true but they weren't the typical stable ponies that had a circuit they went on, didn't budge from and the only time worked up any speed was back to the barn to get fed. This one she can tell has a little vinegar in her. Probably from not being ridden as much when the weather has turned. Carly looks toward the sky. "It's not going to hold."
"Long enough. I don't want you to over do anyway." Lorenzo counters. "Shall we?" He indicates a direction away from the stable along a path with a stone fence.
Carly turns her horse and leads the way out. They take their time getting comfortable getting acquainted, building trust-- between man and horse that is.
Lorenzo catches the look in Carly's eye about half a second before she urges her horse into a gallop so he isn't unprepared and takes off after her. He makes no effort to overtake her but rather just keep up. Carly might have claimed her skills were rusty but they are definitely still there and she's a joy to watch. It's about then that the heavens open up and drops sheets of icy rain.
Carly brings the horse to a standstill at the shock of the water hitting her. Shivering as a droplet works it's way from her hair down the back of her neck. The horse tugs on the reins wanting to go again.
Lorenzo looks around. The stables are a distance away and they'd be soaked long before. "There." He points to a cottage in the trees.
Carly nods and races across the field. One way or another they'd get soaked. If they walked the horses or if they didn't. At least this way the time out in the rain was minimized. She swings down from the horse not waiting for Lorenzo to assist her. "I don't think anyone is home."
"I don't think I want to get back on the horses and ride back to the stable." Lorenzo counters. He eyes Carly closely. "You're soaked."
"So are you."
"Go inside. Get warm. I'll find a place to put the horses." Lorenzo takes the reins of Carly's horse from her.
Carly runs under the eaves to get out of the rain and goes over to check the front door. It's actually unlocked. Guess I'm not in New York anymore. Carly thinks as she shoves the door open. She flicks at the light. Nothing. "Oh man." Looking around she recognizes it. This is a holiday house. She'd seen enough of them in Florida. Empty all summer long and then the snow birds would come back and reopen the houses. This must be like the same thing in reverse. A place to go away from the city in the summer. There is nothing familiar, no thermostats, no furnace. "This isn't good." She goes into the kitchen and turns on first one tap and then the other. There is not only no hot water there is no water-- period.
Lorenzo runs into the house. He stopes right at the threshold. "I think we're going to be here for a bit."
"There's a problem with that." Carly says wryly. "No heat, no water. Every thing is turned off."
Lorenzo looks around and spies the fireplace. "I think we'll manage." He says confidently. "Why don't you see if there are any dry clothes. I'll get a fire started." There is actually already everything he needs to start a fire laid. Whoever owned the cottage was prepared. So he starts looking around. "Many of these buildings have been around forever." Lorenzo calls out. "Some had to be rebuilt after WWII or after the flood of 1966. But central heat isn't a priority, the cost is prohibitive for most to put it into the older places."
Carly pokes her head out. "Did you say flood?!" She hadn't heard a word after that.
"Not that kind of rain. This is normal." Lorenzo says reassuringly.
"And you'd tell me if it wasn't normal right?" Carly says wryly rolling her eyes.
"It it wasn't normal I'd already be on the cell phone calling in a helicopter but I don't think it's going to come to that. We're just going to wait out the worst of this so neither of us come down with pneumonia." Since the fire is crackling, Lorenzo takes off his jacket stuffing the gloves in the pocket and then finding that the shirt beneath is also damp takes it off as well. He hangs them over the back of a chair near the fire.
Carly comes out of the back carrying some towels that she'd found forgotten in a closet. She doesn't quite meet Lorenzo's gaze as she hands him a towel and definitely doesn't look at his tank style t-shirt clad torso. "I didn't find any clothes. Just some towels and stuff." Carly uses the other towel to start drying her hair.
Lorenzo comes over to her and putting a hand on her coat confirms what he knows. Carly is soaked through. "You need to get out of the wet clothes."
"And if you get sick does that mean Morlee gets sick too?"
Carly thinks about that for about half a second. She really has no idea and didn't want to find out. "That's dirty pool." She tosses the towel over the arm of a chair and unzips the jacket. Looking around she finds something to hang it over so that it's near the fire. Her turtle neck is actually a little damp but not bad. Her jeans are soaked through. Carly grimaces and then starts undoing her boots.
Lorenzo sees her hesitation. "Here." He indicates the covers over the furniture. "Use one of these or you said there was some stuff in the bedroom. I'll see if I can get the water turned back on." He purposely turns his back and goes into the kitchen.
Carly quickly kicks off her boots and socks laying the socks over the top of the boots and setting them beside the fire and then she peels out of the jeans with a shimmy and a grimace. There is really nothing grosser than wet jeans. Grabbing the towel she wipes off her legs and then wraps herself in one of the furniture covers. It's a bit dusty but it's dry. She finds a spot right in front of the fire, sitting on the floor.
Lorenzo walks out of the kitchen after a proper amount of time. "I found the turn off for the water. It will take it a little while. Don't know if I'd trust to drink it but... the plumbing will work." He takes a spot next to Carly by the fire, sitting in the chair that Carly is leaning against. "Are you okay?" He runs a hand over her hair noting that it is damp but not soaking wet like before.
"I'm fine." Carly sighs but then looks at him suspiciously out of the corner of her eye. "Did you plan this one?"
"No." Lorenzo shakes his head. "I wasn't particularly planning on having you go galloping off or the weather breaking so fast."
"But you can get us out of here."
Lorenzo nods. "Yes. I have the phone. I could call. Have someone pick us up. Take us back to the farmhouse. Someone else can pick up the horses and return them to the stable. Is that what you want me to do?"
Carly gets up with the cover wrapped around her and looks out the front window. "The Nanny has your number if there is an emergency."
"She does." Lorenzo agrees wryly. "And how long has it been since you've been riding? Are you really ready to quit now?"
"Very dirty pool." Carly retorts and is further tempted by the fact, "That mare is a mudder."
"A horse who likes it better when it's sloppy. Just wants to go. An hour. That'll give the stuff time to dry. If it hasn't cleared up in an hour..."
Lorenzo nods. "And what should we do in the meantime? I doubt there is a backgammon board around here?"
Carly's eyes go wide. "And you didn't bring one?! You're slipping." She goes back to the fire. Lorenzo adds another log to the fire and then retakes his seat. Carly is unable to resist reaching up and running the back of her hand over Lorenzo's cheek. "You had to shave before dinner last night didn't you? No wonder you had a beard. It grows so fast." Carly snatches her hand back. "Sorry."
"I had the beard because Luis didn't." Lorenzo says wryly. "But it was a time saver. You're acting like you've never seen a beard before."
"I haven't really, not like this." Carly muses. Since Lorenzo hadn't seemed to mind she reaches out again to touch the beard, going first with the grain and then against it. None of the guys she's lived with have really had beards. Sonny needed to be in a funk for days to have a decent beard and even then there were bare spots. It had been scary to shave Lorenzo's beard all those months ago and amazing how soon it grew back. "Luke has one now and then but we don't exactly hang out. There was this guy named Lucien Caine that I was hanging around with for awhile that had a beard. He wore it like you used to: trimmed up not like Santa Claus or anything."
"You say that like there was something about that Caine guy." Lorenzo keeps his voice calm, perhaps a little too calm. Other then her mother or her daughter, Carly really didn't talk about other women only other men.
"Oh you might say." Carly chuckles although it hadn't been funny when she found out that Lucien Caine wouldn't be able to get Deception back for her. Alexis had rubbed that one in. "Found out later his real name was Stavros Cassadine. He never messed with me and I can't say anything bad about him." Carly says in a rush. "He did almost kill Mama but that was more about Luke again. Everyone hates Luke and is always trying to kill him."
"Cassadine. Well that explains why he would lie about his name."
"Well that and the whole he was supposed to be dead thing. I was in business with his ex-wife at the time and he was trying to work his way back to her using the cover that he was some big investment guy."
"Uncle Luke's wife Laura."
"I thought she was married to Scott Baldwin."
"She gets around. Not so much anymore since they locked her in the looney bin." Carly shrugs.
"I think perhaps you should be the one telling me stories instead of me to you." Lorenzo suggests. "This is sounding much more interesting than the socio and economic causes of World War II."
"Hey! You would have made a hell of a history professor. If you can distract someone during premature labor you've got it going on. Besides I'd rather have Michael learn about the real 100 year war than the Spencer/Cassadine version. I came late to the party and really don't want to get into the middle of it. I get enough turf wars with Sonny." Carly realizes what she just said and shakes her head. "I guess I don't have to worry about that anymore."
"No, you and your children are safe now: no turf wars, no Spencer/Cassadine wars." Lorenzo agrees but twists his answer to not be about Sonny.
Deciding there isn't going to be a better time and while she still has her nerve, Carly leans over and gives Lorenzo a firm kiss on the mouth, rising to her knees so that she is eye level with him.
After a split second of hesitation, Lorenzo deepens the kiss. He keeps one hand at the base of Carly's neck tangling it in her damp hair. He pulls back finishing the kiss with a nibble on Carly's lower lip. "What are you doing?" He murmurs softly against her cheek next to her ear.
"Are you going to tell me no?" Carly allows the furniture cover to fall to her waist. She's still totally covered as she left on the turtleneck sweater.
"I didn't say that." Lorenzo counters.
"I didn't think so." Carly slides her hands to the sides of Lorenzo's tank and bunching it in her hands pulls it over his head. Tossing the shirt aside, she runs her hand over his shoulders, over his chest. Tracing along the chain that he usually wears, then following her fingertips with kisses. As is her habit, she is rushing things not wanting to give herself time to think, not wanting to give him time enough to think.
Lorenzo rather than pulling Carly into his lap in the chair instead moves to the floor with Carly beneath him. She's a banquet. One he is going to savor, and so he does. Taking Carly to the floor pushes up the turtleneck and leaves a gap of skin between the sweater and her panties. He presses a kiss low on her belly and then moves up to her belly button tasting it with the tip of his tongue. Carly's body trembles beneath him torn between the feeling of his tongue and what his hand is doing at the apex of her thighs. Her panties are damp but it's got nothing to do with the storm raging outside. Lorenzo runs one finger beneath the waistband of her panties. Carly's stomach contracts beneath his hand but her body arches to meet it. He looks up at her face.
Carly bites her lower lip to try to stop the trembling. It had been so long and it felt so good but it shouldn't. It shouldn't feel good. She closes her eyes.
Lorenzo stays his hand. "Look at me." He demands. He doesn't want there to be any misunderstandings, no pretense. Only once Carly opens her eyes again does he resume. It's torture, going so slow, being so methodical since this is all he's wanted since he can't remember when. But he memorizes ever moan, every spasm, every spot that brought an instinctive response. And every time her eyes close, he stops.
"Why are you doing this to me?" Carly moans. Only her shoulders and hips are touching the floor her whole torso arched toward a hand that isn't there. "Why are you stopping?"
"Open your eyes."
Carly collapses back to the floor, panting heavily and with a shuddering breath opens her eyes to look at the man that is kneeling between her thighs. "Please. Please." It's like nothing else is in her head.
Lorenzo hooks his fingers along Carly's hips and slides her panties down. She raises her hips to assist him. He runs his hand along her bent knee taking her underwear down over it at the same time until finally it is free and flung over by his t-shirt. He rises to his feet and quickly but carefully unfastens his jeans tossing them aside on the growing pile of clothing and then kneels back down between Carly's thighs. "Are you sure? The doctor wanted you to wait..."
"Doctor is an idiot." Carly's answer bursts from her in an impatient rush. "Plea..." The word is cut off as Lorenzo pushes into her, connecting them in the most intimate of fashions.
This time when her eyes close he doesn't stop but finds the motion that has her rocking toward him. The exploration had been slow and methodical but this isn't. It's frantic-- both of them are primed and ready to explode. And Lorenzo does, collapsing on top of Carly before rolling to his side and taking her with him wanting to prolong their connection. "Carly." Mine "Carly."
Finally once her breathing and heart rate return to normal, Carly rolls away from Lorenzo and curls in the direction of the fire. Lorenzo spoons along with her rubbing a hand down her still turtleneck covered arm. They hadn't gotten around to getting rid of that. Carly bites her lip and has her eyes closed tight but that doesn't stop Lorenzo from noticing.
"You're crying." There is more than a hint of accusation in his voice.
"I just cheated on my husband." Carly cries softly. "And it's a first. I wasn't drunk; I wasn't angry; I just..." She starts rocking in on herself as if she can't get warm.
Lorenzo rises from the floor and throws another log on the fire. Then he gathers Carly up from the floor and pulls her into his lap as he sits on the couch. He draws her to him hugging her close while she cries it out. And then after she's cried out, after he's soothed her, he begins again. This time she wouldn't cry after.
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