All In (5 page)

Why
am I thinking this? It’s ludicrous!

While Mick was in the bathroom, Cara quickly got
changed. She laid her jeans and sweater over the chair and stepped into her
sweatpants and t-shirt. It would certainly be different, living in such close
quarters with him.

She was already distracted, conjuring up the
possible visuals of Mick’s nakedness. The books in her backpack called, but
there wasn’t enough time. Men didn’t loiter in the bathroom like women. As this
thought was completed the bathroom door opened, force-feeding thoughts that’d
been running wild.

A rolling cloud of steam spilled into the room. Cara
turned. Her eyes caught the bare flesh of Mick’s muscular back. His shoulder
blades shifted below his skin as he dried his head and proceeded to brush his
teeth. Black sweatpants hung on his hips. The tight ripples of his sleek
abdomen glittered with beads of residual moisture. His dark nipples were beaded
as if pimpled from the cold. Deep lines formed a V, accentuating the male lines
of his groin.

That same sensation Cara felt before came rushing
back. Her stomach felt funny. Not quite queasy, but off balance. Mick’s eyes
darted back to
hers,
catching her gaze in a mirrored
image she wasn’t accustomed to seeing. Cara looked away and reached for the
remote, tossing it on his bed.

Cara had brushed her teeth before Mick arrived with
the hot chocolate. She really should brush them again, but the thought of
standing that close to him and engaging in something so personal, side by side,
had her pulling the spread back and diving beneath the covers.

A sleepy sigh expelled from her mouth. Cara wasn’t
sure what this rush of internal upheaval was that she felt burning in her
bones. It sometimes came with her erotic reading. The romantic scenarios seeped
into her parched body, fueling a need that was often left neglected. Cara had
only ever fed that need once.

Masturbation was something that felt nice while
engaging, but left her feeling guilty and empty afterward.

Light dimmed behind her lids. The rustling of sheets
filled the quiet room. Mick’s throaty voice filled the darkness.

“Goodnight.”

“Night.”
Cara
felt her mouth curl into a smile, hugging the covers around her a bit tighter.

****

Insomnia was becoming an issue. Mick couldn’t sleep.
Cara’s breaths echoed in his ears like an oscillating sea. Mick’s eyes battled
the darkness that draped over the room. A narrow strip of fluorescent light
pushed through the crack in the curtains, lighting up her lithe form beneath
the covers.

Cara’s face was still. His eyes traveled over the
fine-boned structure of her face. She’d put her hair up. Gathered strands
stemmed from her ponytail, trailing down her back. How long should he continue
to wear this mask?

Mick knew that Cara hadn’t bothered with any guys,
not that he knew of. His thoughts wandered, questioning if there was anything
he didn’t know.
Is she a virgin?
His
dick bucked inside his sweatpants. The notion of baptizing her with any type of
physical affection and contact had his balls pruning with a searing heat.
Christ, I need another shower, a cold one.

Chapter
Nine

Cara heard the door click closed, the lock engaged. She
rolled over and stretched. While Mick was gone, she’d take a shower. As she got
out of bed, she saw his note on the small table.

Cara,
Barry’s eatery is four blocks down on the right. Keep a watch out for a
large black-and-red sign—Barry’s Morning Joe. See 
ya
… Mick.

He’d left her ten dollars for breakfast, though the
hotel provided a free continental breakfast.

A shower was in order. After slathering herself with
soap and shampoo and carefully washing her suture line, Cara dried off and applied
a new dressing. The sutures looked good and her wound appeared to be healing
quickly.

After walking down to a bustling lobby, Cara got juice,
coffee, and two bran muffins. Once back in the room, she noted that she had
about two hours before setting out to visit Mick.

She reclined back on the bed and dove into
Down
and Dirty.

****

“That was a great wedding,” Tim
said,
his laughter cynical.

“Sure was.” Erin grinned, sashaying toward him.
“What’s on tap for this beautiful Saturday morning?” she asked, tugging at his
towel. It fell from Tim’s waist, pooling on the floor between them. His eyes
glittered as he slowly pet his cock. It lengthened under the workings of
his own
hand.

“Well, I know we’re going shopping,” he grinned. “It
wouldn’t be Saturday without a shopping spree,” Tim said, his tone darkening
with lust. “Before we cater to your needs, I’d sure like one of mine to be
met.” He settled on the edge of the vanity, his legs spread, his feet swinging
playfully. “Lose the towel, babe,
bow
before me and
suck my cock,” he whispered. “You do it so good.” Tim tilted his hips with
anticipation. His head fell back, preparing to absorb every wondrous sensation
of Erin’s mouth.

Heavy breaths rasped through the air. The steam
thinned, settling on their skin. Erin loved it when Tim got all dominant on
her. She ripped the towel from her moist body and began to sway her hips,
thrusting her breasts into his face. She cupped one and fed it to him as Tim
opened his mouth, growling at her.

“Yeah, babe, so hot.”
He
licked her nipple, chewing on it briefly before Erin sank to the floor in front
of him. She took his cock in her warm hand, running the leaky tip up and down her
cheek, teasing him with what she knew was a wicked glint in her eyes. “Take
me,” Tim gasped, thrusting his hips.

Erin steered him between her lips, loving the feel
of his hot, stretched skin in her mouth. She drew him deep, sucking in her
cheeks, knowing how Tim loved that hollowed look on her face.

“Ah, fuck … that’s amazing.” His voice echoed off
the tiles as she angled her head, taking him into her depths. Tim grabbed a
handful of her hair, urging her to take even more. His fingernails dug into her
scalp. “I feel it, baby. That delicious churning before I come in your mouth. You
gonna
swallow all of me?” he asked, his tone wavering
with arousal.

Erin nodded, her head bobbing, her tongue washing
him with long, rhythmic strokes.
Tim’s balls pruned in her
hand.

“Take it all, babe, yes,” Tim hissed, his muscles
going tight under her roving hands. Her pussy was tingling, soaked with the
excitement that his pleasure always brought her.

Milky heat soaked her mouth, a salty concoction that
always made her thirst for more.

****

Cara set the book aside, her body twitching. A thin
ribbon of heat expanded between her legs. She’d never had a man’s mouth on her.
Her vagina felt like a flower blooming under a hot sun. It always did when she
read, only to close again and never be watered.

That one night, when Cara thought she’d experience
what some of her characters did, ended with her hiding behind a veil that she
prayed would conceal and protect her from any gossip that had the power to
destroy what little reputation she had.

Maintaining any respect in The Hollow was hard
enough. Accepting a date from James Dugan was the biggest mistake Cara ever
made. Since then, she’d stuck with reading. It was safer.

James Dugan was the only guy who ever showed any interest
in her. The fact that she lived in The Hollow didn’t seem to matter to him, so
when he’d asked her out, Cara thought she better take the chance while she had
it.

Though he’d wined and dined her, looking back, Cara
supposed that James just assumed that where she came from gave him free license
to use her body.

He’d been notorious for smoking weed and dealing it
to most of the losers in her neighborhood. Cara didn’t like to smoke pot. It
made her lazy and depressed, only adding to her grim surroundings.

Marijuana only magnified everything that was wrong
with her life—that desperate dead-end feeling that was hard enough to shake off
while you were straight. When James offered her a few puffs off of his peculiar-looking
cigarette, Cara had learned what “peer pressure” meant. She’d only taken two
puffs, but the potent THC had raced through her veins, causing her body to go
limp, sucking all the defensible energy out of her.

James had taken her virginity that night. He wasn’t
the one Cara had wanted to give it to. It hadn’t been violent, and in the end
she had consented, though her body felt too lifeless to rebel.

That night was the night Cara learned that fiction
was fiction, and real life was cruel. She had welcomed James during the
foreplay, only to have every fantasy shattered to pieces with his forceful,
insensitive conduct. Would she ever experience better? To be left with that
negative impression was a stain Cara didn’t think she’d ever be able to wash
away.

Thank God she’d gotten on the pill through a reduced-insurance
program due to her mother’s ever-fluctuating income. Cara had even snuck an
appointment in at the clinic, petrified that there might have been a
possibility that she’d caught something from the hard, cold encounter. She’d escaped
unscathed physically, though the emotional trauma still lingered.

Chapter
Ten

“Take forty-five for lunch,” Barry told him. “Things
look great, Mick. I can’t thank you enough. You’re a goddamn workhorse.” Barry
laughed, nodding with approval.

“I’m glad you’re pleased. I needed the work, man. You’re
helping me out, believe me,” Mick said.

Barry had left for a few hours, bringing lunch back
from a local deli, pleased with the progress he’d made.

Mick had moved in all the tables and chairs. He’d
just begun to assemble the stools that would line the coffee bar. Barry’s Morning
Joe would be a nice place to gather. It was rustic and artsy, decorated with
dark finishes and an earthy color palette.

Mick wouldn’t ever see the full effect of Barry’s
new business, but he was thankful for the work.

The men sat outside, the weather a bit warmer but
still holding the characteristic chill of being back home in Pittsburgh. Mick
unwrapped
his sandwich. When he lifted the bulging roll to
his mouth to take a bite, he noticed Barry’s eyes. Mick shifted his gaze,
meeting the view that had distracted Barry from his lunch. Mick knew when a
man’s eyes were feasting.

Cara walked down the street. Her ponytail swung
behind her, her cheeks flushed with a rosy healthiness. Mick set his sandwich
down, needing to freeze over any thought that might be racing through Barry’s
mind
. Why are some men such pigs? It
ruins it for the rest of us.

“Excuse me,” Mick said, sliding off the tailgate of
Barry’s truck. He closed the distance, escorting Cara with his eyes, the view
always pleasant.

Cara’s shapely mouth curved into a wide smile. A
large, gray sweater hung on her slender frame, resting right at her hips. Her
jeans were faded, aged like a fine wine. A fleece vest in a bold, cobalt blue
was unzipped. Mick swallowed, seeing the slight swell of her cute breasts. Her
voice called out to him, slapping him upside the head.

I
have to reel it in.

She waved. “Hey, how’s it going?” Cara asked,
stopping right in front of him. Mick instantly regretted telling her to come
down. He glanced behind him, only to see the other worker, Russ, whom Barry had
rounded up at the last minute to check over all the plumbing in the kitchen and
bathrooms, leaning against Barry’s truck, his eyes leering.

“It’s going good… I’ll be done in like an hour,” he
told her, falling into her soft brown eyes. Her lashes fluttered, her eyes
tearing from her windy walk.

“Okay,” she shrugged. “Um…”

Heaviness settled in his gut. He did ask her to come
down. Sending her back to the hotel felt rude and wrong. Barry’s voice carried
through the air, nudging at Mick’s back.

“Would your guest like a sandwich? I’ve got plenty.”

Mick turned, meeting two sets of inquisitive eyes. He
glanced back at Cara.

“Did you eat?” he asked, boldly taking her hand,
feeling the urge to take possession of her.

Cara nodded. “I’m good,” she smiled. “I grabbed
breakfast in the lobby.”

“Well, I’ll introduce you and hopefully you won’t
get bored waiting around for me,” Mick muttered.

They sauntered over to Barry’s truck. Barry hopped
off the bed, making room for them. They sat as the introductions were made.

Russ tipped his oily blue cap, stuffing his face
with a handful of potato chips. Mick looked down at his sandwich, lying on the
white butcher’s paper, and instantly lost his appetite. Not wanting to offend
Barry, he forced the thick bread and wads of ham and cheese down a constricted
throat.