Carnal Ecstasy (7 page)

“Be very sure about this, Carrie Anne. Once we walk out that door, you’re on your own. You’ll be responsible for your bills, your clothes, everything.”

She backed away from her mother and Dallon was there, his hand on her waist, holding her steady. “I am sure.”

Her voice was strong, determined. She was likely scared shitless too, but she wasn’t going to show fear to them.

“Very well. We will take our leave. You may keep your car and the furnishings here.”

“Thank you.” She sagged into Dallon’s chest. He wished he could take away the censure in their words, in their eyes. Carrie wanted their support, but she wouldn’t get it. They weren’t disowning her though, and he figured that was something.

The couple turned and opened the door. Her mother walked through it and as her father started to, he turned back. “Your mother was right. We do love you. You are welcome to come home anytime, at least to visit.”

After he closed the door behind him, Carrie just stood there, rooted to the floor.

He slid his hand up her back, his other one joined it, and together massaged her shoulders, the back of her neck. There were knots now where there hadn’t been when they’d left the bar earlier. She winced at the pain but then began to relax, ease up and finally give in altogether and slumped, becoming pliable. He lifted her hair and pressed 50

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a kiss to her hairline at the base of her skull then simply pulled her close and held her tight.

She didn’t cry. He thought for a few minutes she might, but she didn’t. She was just trying to process it all.

“You okay?”

She nodded. She was calm. “Yes. I am.”

“I’m so sorry. You held your ground, and for what it’s worth I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you. I don’t think anyone has ever said they were proud of me.” Silence reigned for a time as he held her within the circle of his arms, offering whatever he could, whatever she needed from him. “Dallon?”

He kissed the top of her head. “Yeah, kitten?”

“I think I might need that job you offered earlier.”

And then her tears fell.

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“Who’s the hottie in the kitchen?”

Dallon tried to hide his smile at the word “hottie”. Carrie certainly didn’t see herself that way and would likely be very surprised to know that anyone other than him did.

He looked up at his partners Vinter and Jaz. “Mine.”

“Well, does Mine have another name or are we just supposed to call her that?”

“Asshole.”

“I don’t know any woman with the name of Asshole, but if you say so…”

Dallon flipped Jaz off. “Carrie.”

“Where’d ya meet? You gonna introduce us?”

“You gonna share?”

“At the store. Later. And not a chance in hell.”

Once upon a time, the three friends cum business partners in the bar and the tattoo parlor shared their lovers, but since Vinter met Elise a month or so ago, there’d been no play like that. Now that Dallon had met Carrie, he didn’t envision any play like that again. Whereas he’d never had an issue with sharing lovers in the past, what was between him and Carrie was different, special, and he was quite happy to keep her all to himself.

“Have you asked? I mean, I know Vin here is taken and all, but I’m still free as a bird.”

“I haven’t asked and I don’t intend to.”

Jaz grinned. “Stingy mother.”

Dallon grinned back. “Damn right.”

“She doesn’t look like the typical bar worker or patron.”

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“Neither did Elise. Isn’t that why she stood out to you the night she walked in?”

Vinter nodded. “Yep.” He drained his beer bottle and Dallon couldn’t take his eyes off the neck of it when Vinter set it down on the bar again. He wanted to take Carrie that way again, wanted to see the glass inside her pussy, tease her with it, fuck her with it. He wanted to be in her ass next time he did it too. There were all sorts of fun objects he intended to use as makeshift dildos, show her how naughty she could be and like it.

Hell, how naughty he could be and like it, for that matter.

“She was supposed to start working for my father next week.”

“Holy shit, man.”

“Yeah, talk about a small world. She asked me for directions to the university and next thing I knew she was walking into the bar, telling me she’d quit.”

“I know there’s more to it than that, but I won’t ask. Just tell me this…is she as good as she looks?”

“Better.”

“Damn lucky SOB.”

Just then, their topic of conversation walked in from the kitchen, carrying a tray of highball glasses. He’d talked her into wearing her tightest pair of jeans and took one of her plain white t-shirts, cut a small slit in the neck then ripped it down the front, creating a deep V. She wore her white lacy bra, no panties, and a pair of sneakers. Being on her feet for hours on end when she wasn’t used to it would be hell, so he didn’t suggest heels tonight.

The jeans hugged her ass like a glove and defined her hips just right. The shirt teased every time she bent forward, giving just a flash of cleavage, and when the air was on, hardened her nipples beneath the fabric. The bra did nothing but hold her incredible tits up.

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She’d been a bit self-conscious at first, but once he pointed out the appreciative looks of some of the men in the bar, she let up a little and started smiling. She stopped next to him and he took the tray from her. “Thanks, kitten.”

“Hi there. I’m Jaz. Dal here has no manners.”

Dallon shook his head. “He’s the third partner in the bar,” he answered when she looked at him with questions in her eyes.

She took Jaz’s outstretched hand and shook it. “Nice to meet you.”

“Pleasure is most definitely all mine, sugar.”

Carrie blushed and ducked her head. She was going to have to get used to people staring at her, giving her compliments. He hated that she was so shy about it, but at the same time her innocence was kind of nice. Vinter was right. She wasn’t the typical bar patron or worker. She was fresh, sweet and she was all his. The men could look all they wanted, he welcomed it, but they couldn’t touch. He hoped she would be okay with that.

She looked up at him. “I finished all the other dishes and cleaned the counters. Is there anything else you need me to do?”

Oh hell yeah there was. He needed her to strip naked and suck him off. Knowing she turned on the customers who had seen her, knowing Jaz wanted her, and knowing she only wanted Dallon… Damn, he was harder than a bat and certain he could knock one out of the park with it too. “Not right now, kitten. Soon as these two goons leave, I’ll lock up and we’ll be done for the night.”

“Oh, so that’s how it is, huh? We have to leave so you can…” Jaz waggled his eyebrows at Dallon. Again Dallon flipped him off.

“Yeah, that’s how it is.”

“That’s cool. I’m outta here.” He winked at Carrie and headed for the door. Vinter left shortly after with a wave to them both, and Dallon followed him, locking the door after both men exited.

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“He’s a flirt, isn’t he? Jaz, I mean.” She busied herself with the hem of her t-shirt.

“Yeah, he is. A big one.”

“Vinter was kinda quiet.”

Dallon nodded. “Vin is the quiet, observant one. He reads people real well but isn’t the biggest people person. But then, most people see all the tats and piercings and steer well clear of him.”

“Does he want it that way?”

“He finds it rather amusing.”

“Yours aren’t that plentiful or bright.”

“No, but you like them anyway.”

She smiled. “Yes, I do.”

“Good.”

“What do they mean?” She started tracing the one on his arm, the barbed wire that wrapped around his upper arm and down to the middle of his forearm.

“That one was done as a symbol or reminder that I don’t want to be fenced in again.

I don’t want to be caged and powerless over my own life.”

“I know that feeling.”

“Yes, you do. You were brave today. It takes a lot of courage to do what you did, to stand up and say no.”

She placed her hands on his shoulders and pressed on him to turn around. He did and she pushed his shirt up his back with one hand, and with the soft fingers of the other, she traced the edges of the guitar between his shoulder blades. “What about this one? Why does one side of it have a halo and an angel’s wing and the other side have a devil horn and spiked tail?”

He loved her fingers on his skin. They were so gentle, like feathers. His dick hardened even more at her tender investigation. He’d never admit to the goose bumps covering his body having anything to do with what she was doing to him. “Jaz 55

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designed it for me when we formed the band. He thought the irony of heavenly and hellacious would be fun.”

“It’s beautiful. The detail of the wings, each individual feather…”

“Yeah. He said it was my price of freedom from the tyranny of the church.”

“I can see that. Your thirty pieces of silver, so to speak.”

“Yep. The devil horn and tail were my descent or assent into being a sinner, into raising hell, into being something different than what had been planned for me.”

“You really did go through it too, didn’t you? Like me?”

Dallon turned around and took her face between his palms. “Yes. I did.”

“Thank you for staying with me this afternoon.”

“I wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else. I’m glad I could be there for you.”

He kissed her, full and languid on the lips, his tongue seeking entrance to her mouth.

She let him in and the kiss turned hard, possessive, dark and hungry. Her tongue curled around his and she sucked on it, bit down on it, and if she could have crawled into his body, he had no doubt she would have. He’d have welcomed it.

She tugged on his t-shirt and he pulled away from her mouth just long enough to get it over his head and on the floor. Nail scratches followed as she dug in and held on.

He didn’t mind the bite of pain, welcomed it actually. It was kind of like the tattoo needle, it reminded him of life.

“I need this, you,” she breathed against his mouth. “Is that okay to say?”

“Yes, kitten, it’s more than okay. I need it too.” And he really wasn’t sure need covered it. There was something more than need at play here, something more than simple want and desire.

“Good. I’m still not sure what is and isn’t okay.”

“Anything goes, Carrie. Except…” He stepped back from her and let his gaze rake lazily up and down her body.

“Except what?”

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The worried tone of her voice made him smile when she should know she had nothing at all to be worried about. “Except you have way too many clothes on.”

She grinned, relief flooding her eyes, and before he could blink, she had the modified and ripped t-shirt over her head. He decided to just watch. Some men might prefer a sexy dance routine, a slow, seductive striptease, but not him. He wanted the clothes off in the quickest way possible. If he wanted the other, he could go to a club.

He wanted someone eager, someone who didn’t keep him waiting, who couldn’t be bothered to keep herself waiting either.

She toed off her sneakers and worked the jeans down her hips and legs. She wasn’t shy about undressing in front of him. He liked that. She hadn’t even been shy about it last night, she wasn’t bothered about being naked, in fact, he would bet the bar she loved it. She had the womanly curves he craved to have in his hands and under his body.

The bra was unclasped and dropped to the floor, and she stood there in nothing but a pair of socks. When they’d come back from her apartment, they’d brought an overnight bag with a few days’ worth of clothes and toiletries. He wasn’t sure that was going to be enough.

“We need to shave you tomorrow. You’ll be so sensitive to every touch, to every breeze. I think you’ll love it.”

“Okay.”

“You’re so willing, so open, kitten.” He backed her toward the pool table with his hands on her waist, with his lips at the hollow of her throat, with his cock straining in his jeans, begging to be let out.

“Should I not be?”

“Oh no, I like it. You should always be genuine, and if being open is being genuine…” He left the words hanging in the air, knowing she understood his meaning.

“I want to experience everything, Dallon.”

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“I know you do and I want to give you everything, to show you what it’s like to be so steeped in pleasure, so lost to the ecstasy of sex that you wonder how you ever lived without it.”

When they reached the smooth wooden edge of the table, she lifted herself up, shifting back until her ass rested against the green felt. She was a sight. Her fair skin against the green, the myriad colors shining down on her from the lantern above the table—purples, greens, reds.

He walked around the table, felt her eyes on him. He turned to see them widen when he pulled a pool cue from the rack on the wall. “Are you gonna…?”

“Maybe. Lie back, knees bent, legs spread.” From where he stood, he could straighten his arm with the cue in it and touch her. That’s just what he did too when she was in the right position.

She offered herself up to him, willingly submissive to anything he wanted and he couldn’t get over how incredibly sexy it was. He touched the end of the stick to one of her nipples, teasing the end until it pebbled. A light dusting of blue chalk was left on her skin as he trailed the cue down her side and leg.

“Like it?” Her eyes never left him, never left the movement of his arm. She watched everything he did to her. She licked her lips and fisted her hands.

“Yes.”

He walked around her body, treating the opposite side with the same light teasing strokes. The small cube of chalk sat on the side of the table and he rubbed it against the end of the cue. The blue marks were pretty and something about it said “mine” that he hadn’t expected but welcomed just the same.

When he stood between her legs, the wetness glistened on her inner lips, on the little tufts of hair he would be shaving off in the morning. He drew chalk swirls on her inner thighs then flipped the cue around in his hand. He pressed the wider end against her clit and she bucked up.