Behind Iron Lace

by Celeste, Mercy

  “Yeah, listen about all that shit earlier, I’m not exactly myself lately. I usually don’t go around antagonizing people.” He liked Darcy without the glasses; the electric blue of his eyes was startling without them.

  “I hear you invited the gang out for drinks later. That was nice of you.” He didn’t acknowledge the apology but he seemed to relax.

  “I don’t know how giving an address to a blues bar became an invitation to drinks, but okay. Are you going to be there?” Because if he wasn’t going to show up, Caleb had tons of better stuff to do.

  “I’m sure Bailey will have my hide if I don’t. Oh hey, before I forget—about tomorrow, we pretty much don’t do anything around here on Fridays. The magazine is set to launch at midnight, most of us just sleep in and if we feel like dragging in, we just shoot pool or play cards, stuff like that. We’re closed on Saturday and Sunday, but those with assignments travel on Sunday. Monday, the office staff starts setting up for next week’s edition. So really unless you just want to hang out then we’ll see you Monday.” He yawned, his fingers moved to his temples.

  “You look exhausted.” Caleb wanted to walk behind the desk and run his hands over his shoulders, ease the stress of the day away. He worked on impulse control. Must not freak the pretty man out, must not give in to the urge to nibble his ears. Merde.

  “I didn’t sleep well last night. Too much beer, I think, makes me have nightmares.” Darcy cleared his throat, a blush crept up his cheeks and he wouldn’t meet his eyes.

  “You keep telling yourself that, cher. Meanwhile, I’m needed at the hospital. If I make it to your little party, I’ll see you there.” He left Darcy staring after him, his face gone suddenly pale as if he’d been caught doing something very, very naughty. Caleb wondered just how naughty Darcy’s dreams really were. Enough to keep him awake. But was it enough to push him out of his comfort zone? God, Caleb hoped so.

  Chapter Four

  Strange music blasted from the stage, happy, dancy music that set Darcy’s teeth on edge. Not that the music was bad, it wasn’t, he was just tired. He wanted to go home, watch a movie, read a book—do something quiet. Anything quiet, he didn’t care what as long as the tension in his neck would just stop throbbing long enough for him to relax.

  It wasn’t late, sometime after ten, probably closer to eleven, and he’d been awake for more hours than he could count. He leaned back in the leather seat, stretching his legs out under the table as far as he could. He draped his arms across the back and let his head loll back against the wall. The ache in his neck eased somewhat, enough to let him drift a bit as the music began to weave slowly around him. Never mind that he was alone in an unfamiliar bar, he let sleep creep up on him.

  “Look at this, cher, you ever see anything so lazy in you life?”

  Darcy cracked an eye open. He knew that voice, the long, lazy drawl, not quite right, not quite wrong either.

  “He sho is easy on the eyes, beb. I been watching him since he came in. I got me an envie for dat one.” The waitress smiled down at him, open appreciation on her face. She winked at him just as Caleb slid into the booth with him. “You want the usual, beb? Or something to go?”

  “Mais, no, bring us out a couple dozen oysters and—what you drinking, cher? Whatever my new friend is drinking, and a pitcher of beer. Oh hey, Teela, bring a basket of beignets out too. I need something sweet tonight.”

  “Oh, yeah, and how’s your mama? We heard about her, you uncle was in here looking for you this afternoon. He’s not looking so good.” She gathered up the discarded glasses.

  “My uncle can beck moi tchew, cher, you tell him to get his sorry ass over to the hospital nex’ time he come in here. I ain’t got nothin’ to say to him ‘til he show his face dere.”

  “Sure thing, Caleb. I go fetch those oysters then.” She looked at the man sitting next to Darcy strangely, as if he’d fallen from some weird planet where they spoke some messed up language, but she spoke it too, so none of that made the slightest bit of sense to him.

  “Would you mind translating some of that? I’m rusty on my French, did you say your uncle should bite your ass? And why does she envy me? Christ, I need a dictionary.”

  “Won’t do you no good, beb, most of what we say isn’t in one anyway.” Placing his knee in the seat next to Darcy’s leg, Caleb leaned his elbow on the back of the seat. His voice was light with laughter. “She said she has a craving for you, envie, not envy, pronounced sort of like awning. You are mighty fetching lying there, can’t say as I blame her.”

  “Do you do that on purpose? Change accents like that, I mean? It’s disconcerting.”

  “Gives you frissons when I talk like dis, goose bumps. Admit it, cher, you like my voice, it makes you tremble.” Darcy tried not to flinch when Caleb lightly ran his fingers along the back of his arm. “More frissons. You have smooth skin, I like that.”

  “Cut it out, Caleb. I told you I’m not interested. And stop playing Cajun.” Darcy ignored the goose bumps coursing down his arm. What was it he’d said, freezons?

  “I am Cajun, coonass bayou bait, cher, until my daddy moved us all up to Charleston. I had to learn to talk like his people, so my daddy wouldn’t be disinherited for marrying a piece of swamp trash. Never mind my grand-pere had more money than God and owned half this town at the time. And besides, cher, your lips say no, but your eyes are saying something else entirely. Teela ain’t the only one with an envie for you.”

  “Are you drunk?” Darcy said low when the waitress returned carrying a tray loaded with platters and glasses.

  “Not yet, cher, but soon. Hey Teela, bring me more of this, will you? It’s been a horrible day.” He sniffed the clear liquor Teela sat down in front of him. “Gin and tonic. Bring more of this, should do the trick.”

  “You want another one too, cher?” She looked at Darcy, her eyes showing concern for the man sitting next to him.

  “No, ma’am, I’m good. I’m going to have a couple of those beignets and hit the road.” He smiled at her and she smiled back, winking. Damn but she was pretty, long, glossy, black hair pulled up in a ponytail, nice breasts, green eyes.

  “She has a husband, beb, a big one,” Caleb said when she left them.

  “What does beb mean? I told you my French is rusty.”

  “Darling, baby, love, something to that effect.” Caleb shrugged taking a sip of drink, wincing as the liquor burned his throat.

  “Like cher?” His question was met with more laughter.

  “No, draw the word out like yeah and drop the r, Cher is the singer, and that means dear one, but we use it lightly, and because you tourists expect to hear it. Same as you expect to hear ‘how y’all are’. You ever had oysters, Darcy?”

  His eyes seemed to sparkle with some sort of inner fire, or demon, Darcy couldn’t decide which. Either way his skin reacted, pulling into—what had he called them? Freezons? Shit. “No, thank you, I’m having a hard time understanding the reason anyone would put that in their mouth.”

  “Because it’s good, here.” Caleb lifted a half shell off the platter and placed a drop of hot sauce in the center before he tilted his head back and let it slide into his mouth. “See? Nothing to it, goes down smooth. Salty. Your turn.”

  He had another oyster loaded and, before he could figure a way out, lifted it to Darcy’s lips. Darcy let it slide over his tongue, gagging as he swallowed the slimy thing down. “Christ, that’s nasty! How can you eat it?” He followed it with a gulp of beer. “Shit.”

  Caleb laughed, the sound slithering over his skin like velvet. “It wasn’t so bad. Where are your people, Darcy? They left you all alone over here in the dark. I nearly didn’t find you.”

  Darcy watched him tilt another mollusk into his mouth and swallow, following it with the gin chaser. “Out there somewhere dancing, having a good time, being young.”

  “So why aren’t you out there, dancing and being young? You are young too, you know? Just how young are you, exactly?”

 
“Twenty-nine,” Darcy shrugged, he sure as hell didn’t feel young. “I don’t dance. What’s your excuse?”

  “I’m not interested in that kind of dancing tonight.” His gaze slid over him, lingering on his jaw, moving lower to catch all the points between his neck and where the tablecloth lay across his thighs, lingering there. “You want another oyster?”

  “No, thanks, I’ve eaten. And I’d like to keep what I ate in my stomach.” Darcy had to turn away before the smolder in Caleb’s gaze burned him. He winced when he turned too fast.

  “What’s wrong with your neck, beb?” Caleb’s velvety voice dripped with concern.

  “Nothing, just tension,” Darcy said, fighting the urge to flinch when warm fingers slipped under his collar and gripped the muscle going up to his neck. Strong fingers pressed into the spot as if they knew exactly where he ached. “You shouldn’t do that.”

  “But it feels good. Your neck is all stiff, loosen a button on your shirt.” His voice was so close, almost next to his ear. Caleb massaged him, pressing deeper, his palm hot against his flesh. So hot, Darcy wanted to lean into his hand. Caleb pressed harder, forcing a moan from him. “I like the sound of that, just one button, cher, nothing more. I’ll fix your neck for you, that’s all. Feels so nice, doesn’t it? My hand on your neck.”

  He spoke softly, his accent a mix of familiar and foreign words. His voice was husky, almost sensuous. Darcy wanted the ache to disappear. He craved the pressure, the relief. He opened a button then a second. “That feels incredible.” He leaned into Caleb’s hand, letting him work his magic. His hand, so hot on his neck, drifted along his shoulder, massaging the kink out. “Feels so good.”

  “I know it does. You have soft skin.” Caleb’s voice was a whisper, but so close Darcy could feel his breath on his neck. “You smell nice, cher.”

  Something moist touched his neck, a slight flick of Caleb’s tongue just below Darcy’s ear. His skin prickled, pulling tight in reaction. Darcy opened his mouth to protest but nothing came out. The pressure of Caleb’s hand increased, his touch lulled him, dulling the alarm ringing in his brain.

  “Do that again.” He hadn’t meant to say that. The low rumble of laughter so close to his ear nearly swallowed him whole, the sound washing through him.

  “Pretty frissons on your pretty neck. You taste good, Darcy, savory. I could eat you up. I want to eat you up.” He could hear the yearning need in Caleb’s voice. He could feel his desire. It engulfed him, confused him.

  Caleb licked him again, the wet heat of his tongue sent chills through Darcy’s body, he couldn’t think. He didn’t want to think. It had been too long since someone had tasted him. He thrilled at the touch, wanting more. Twisting slightly in the seat, he turned to meet Caleb’s mouth. Despite consciously giving in to temptation, Darcy gasped in surprise when lush warm lips touched his. He relaxed into the kiss, allowing Caleb full access to his mouth. Caleb simply tasted him, softly, taking his time before setting out to devour him.

  Darcy didn’t remember closing his eyes, but he didn’t dare open them now. Caleb’s hair was as soft as he’d dreamed it was. Not exactly fine, but silky nonetheless. He ran his fingers through the strands as Caleb sucked his tongue into his mouth.

  The lush scent of his skin nearly overwhelmed him. Warm, spicy, like sunshine and a ride through the forest after a rain; God, it was enough to drive him mad. Caleb shifted, pulling him closer, nearly against him. He locked his fingers around Darcy’s neck and held him tight as he feasted on him.

  Darcy forgot to keep his eyes closed. Green eyes so bright they seemed to burn with some strange light stared into his. There was a desire so powerful there, Darcy thought they would ignite. Caleb slid his fingers along his thigh. He could feel heat through his pants, the touch felt so nice. He cupped him then, laying his palm over his zipper. His mouth turned up in a grin, triumph shining in his eyes as he broke the kiss. “You have a nice big dick, Darcy. I bet you taste so good. I want to taste you there, beb, I want to make you come, drink you down.”

  He rubbed him through his pants, Darcy groaned as his cock grew rigid. It wouldn’t take much to send him over the edge. He could imagine Caleb’s mouth on him. His fingers traced him, sliding along him, touching him, seducing him. Oh, Christ, it felt so good, he needed it so much, he needed Caleb’s mouth. Here now, no one would see, it was so dark in the corner booth, cut off from the rest of the… voices slowly penetrated the sexual haze. Sharp piercing voices laughing nearby, sounding so very close.

  Caleb’s mouth was so warm, his fingers insistent, like a drug, threatening to drag him back under but reality intruded in the form of Bailey. She and Chester emerged from the crowd, she was laughing at something Chester whispered in her ear.

  “Shit. Son of bitch. Get the fuck off me.” Darcy pulled away, ice seemed to shiver and slither over his skin. Oh, shit, what the hell am I doing? Christ, they’d been seconds away from… oh, God.

  “No one can see us here.” Disappointment flashed in Caleb’s eyes but he moved away, his breathing was as heavy as Darcy’s own. “Come home with me. I want to make love to you so bad my teeth hurt.”

  The longing in his voice nearly undid Darcy. The sound caressed him, seduced him, until Darcy wanted to do everything Caleb wanted. He shook himself, fighting off the urge, letting anger replace desire.

  “Yeah, well, try that again and I’ll break them all for you.” He grabbed the glass of gin, sloshing it some before he got it to his lips. The familiar sting washed down his throat. The heat spread through his body and his mind, numbing him to what could happen if he didn’t get the hell out of here.

  He could still see Bailey on the edge of the crowd, she and Chester weren’t heading this way after all, they pressed together as Darcy became aware of the music. Slow, waltz-like, a French melody over bluesy guitar, seductive, poignant. He had to get out of here before he did something stupid. “Where’s the restroom?”

  “Back that way.” Caleb let a slow smile creep into his eyes as he nodded behind them.

  “Just, don’t even—this isn’t happening, do you understand me?” Without waiting for an answer, Darcy climbed out of the booth trying not to touch the man’s body in any way and headed to the back of the building. The lighted green restroom sign pointed the way down a long corridor and Darcy found himself in the cramped room alone.

  He stood at the sink and leaned on it for support. Christ, Christ. Fuck. His heart threatened to race out of his chest. He ached from wanting. He ached so badly he couldn’t walk without wanting. The man in the mirror stared back at him, his face flushed, eyes wild. He felt as if he were burning alive. Christ. Jesus. The water from the tap was tepid, he took his glasses off and splashed his face. Shit. Shit. Son of a bitch. He had to get out of here. Get home. Find a cab. Something. Whatever. He had to go or he would go nuts.

  Son of a bitch kissed like a… don’t think about it. His hair was so soft… don’t fucking think about it. Have to go. Home. Now. Shit.

  He pushed off the sink and stumbled out into the hall. Caleb leaned against the far wall beside a door marked PRIVATE. Son of a bitch flipped his hair back out of his face, he looked so fucking smug Darcy wanted to punch his face through the wall. He meant to turn left, head out into the bar, pay the bill and go home. He couldn’t stop himself from turning right. The teasing light in Caleb’s eyes shone brightly under the dim, single light bulb swinging over his head.

  Those damned eyes ate at his soul, taunting him. Darcy couldn’t control the need coursing through him, he closed the distance between them, grabbed Caleb’s shirt in his fists and slammed him into the wall. “I don’t want to do this.” The words ached in his throat, catching on the anger that drove him.

  “You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t. You would have left just now, and taken a cab back to wherever it is you stay. The question I have, Darcy, is exactly what is it you want to do to me right now?” There was no fear in his eyes. Darcy growled between his teeth, there should be fear, there s
hould be something. There was something, Darcy could see it swirling like fire in his green eyes. Lust, pure, greedy consuming lust. Son of a bitch. “Do something, Darcy, fucking hit me or kiss me. Either way just do it and get it over with.”

  “I can’t. I want to but I can’t.” He let the words slip past his lips but he knew one thing as he said the words. He did not know what the fuck he wanted. Caleb just smiled that lazy smile of his, the light swinging overhead just barely illuminating his face, but Darcy saw the fire in his eyes just the same. “I hate you. That’s all I know right now.”

  “Why, cher?” Caleb raised an eyebrow. God, he hated people who did that, raise one fucking eyebrow just because they could, to taunt, to tease. “Because I turn you on? Admit it, beb, you’re standing there with a boner just for me. All this posturing is making me want you even more. I want to taste your cock, Darcy. I want to make you weak in the knees. I want to make you forget your own fucking name. Tell me what you want, beb, tell me you want me to suck your cock. Tell me—”

  “I want you to kiss me. Shut the fuck up and kiss me again, before I come to my senses, before I remember why I hate you.” Darcy surprised himself when he released Caleb’s shirt, he let his hands slide along Caleb’s neck to tangle in his hair. The light in the man’s eyes enthralled him, making him ache for something he wasn’t sure he even understood.

  “Just so we are clear, when I kiss you, cher, I won’t be able to stop. You better mean what you say. I can’t handle the tease if you don’t.” The gleam turned dangerous, his voice almost harsh.

  “No teasing. Jesus Christ, I’m so damned hard from wanting you. Why did you do this to me?” Darcy couldn’t think straight. Caleb’s breath teased his lips, his smile turned sensuous. The first touch of his mouth was soft, like before, so soft Darcy wanted to curl into him and just touch and taste.

  “Because you want me, cher, you want my dick in your mouth, you want me to touch you and lick you and make you mine. I’m going to make you mine, Darcy, tonight. I’m going to take you home with me and make you forget everything you know,” he said placing small teasing kisses along Darcy’s jaw.