Risk Is a Four-Letter Word by Erin M. Leaf Page A

as Zeke's hand dipped in front of her nose. She grabbed it and let him
pull her to her feet. "Thanks."
    "What about me?" Eric joked. Zeke
rolled his eyes and helped him up, too.
    Carrie picked up the boxes and set them back on
their hooks. What was she going to say? How to explain? She eyed Eric as he
stood near her cart, watching her. She remembered how kind he was. How his
sense of humor never let Zeke's tendency toward seriousness slip into
depression. Zeke stood next to Eric, his hand on Eric's waist. Clearly they
were comfortable with each other, even in public. She thought about Zeke's
calm, how every once in a while his mischievous side came out. Did she really
want to give all that up? No , she
thought. She didn't. She really, really didn't.
    "This isn't the best place to talk,"
she said, biting her lip. She felt terrible. "But I really want you to
know that I'm sorry. I screwed up. I shouldn't have run like that."
    Zeke looked at her speculatively. "I know
that morning would've sent anyone running. Hell, I wanted to run and I live there. If you're willing to give us a second chance, would you like to go to
lunch with us?"
    Carrie bit her lip then nodded. She could
explain better and hopefully they would forgive her. She eyed the crushed
condom package in her hand. It stared up at her accusingly and she felt even
guiltier. She'd smashed the memory of an amazing night with her cowardice.
    "Screw that," Eric said sharply.
"I don't want to eat lunch."
    Carrie's stomach twisted and her eyes darted to
Eric's face. He was no longer smiling. In fact, he looked downright forbidding.
Her fingers smooshed the last abused condom box even
more. What happened ? He'd just been
laughing. Teasing her. Why was he suddenly angry?
She'd really hoped he would at least let her apologize. He took one step toward
her, then another before abruptly grabbing her hips and jerking her against his
hard body. Carrie gasped as his erection pressed into her abdomen. What the hell? What was he doing? Before
she could take another breath, he kissed her. In the middle
of the store. Next to the condoms. Holy shit . The old
lady down the aisle was certainly getting an eyeful along with her denture
cream.
    Carrie's head fell back under the onslaught of
his mouth. What else could she do? As soon as he touched her, heat sparked up
her spine. She felt dizzy. Overwhelmed. Too much emotional whipsawing in the past
few minutes , she thought dimly. Eric licked inside her mouth then bit her
lip, growling. Carrie sucked in some desperately needed air as Eric kissed her
again. A stab of lust pierced her core and moisture gathered in her pussy,
wetting her panties. Her bra itched. She couldn't stand up by herself anymore.
When Eric nibbled down the side of her neck, she whimpered.
    "Eric, not here," Zeke hissed. Carrie
felt someone tugging at her arm and eventually realized it was Zeke trying to
get Eric to stop. He failed. Eric swung her around and pinned her against the
intimate products display, right next to Zeke. Bottles of lube went flying. Her
head spun. She watched Zeke watching them. He was hard. Carrie clearly saw the
outline of his cock against his black jeans. She wanted to touch, but Eric
kissed her again, hitching her up on his thigh. Zeke grabbed Eric's arm, but he
still couldn't do a damn thing to stop what was happening. Carrie wasn't sure
she wanted it to stop.
    "Eric. Eric, the manager is coming."
Zeke said, his voice low and strained. Eric slowly
eased Carrie down his leg. She shuddered as the seam of her jeans scraped
against her clit. She swallowed, trying to straighten her top. How the hell had
she let this happen? She tried to shove her libido back into its neat little
box, but it kept spilling out, like boobs stuffed into a too-small bra. Carrie
bit her lip, hard, hoping the pain would help. She ended up leaning against
Zeke so she wouldn't fall down.
    "Yeah, okay, we need to get the hell out
of here," Eric said, adjusting his erection.