by Lauren Dane
Hungry for her trust. For her to let him in a little more.
People told him things. All the damned time. So much so it got to be annoying. But she wasn’t that way. Carmella listened more than she spoke. And he liked that. She was thoughtful.
But he wanted her to tell him things too.
And when she finally pulled up in her driveway, he was moving to her before he’d registered it.
Ginger wasn’t with Carmella, which surprised him.
“Morning. Can I help you with anything?” he asked her as he opened her door.
Carmella smiled his way, turning her face up for a kiss. He tried not to show how startled he was. Because he dug it so hard. She wanted a kiss and he’d damn well give her one. He craved that again. Wanted her to turn to him, expecting affection. He took his time, needing to remind her what a good choice it was.
And got all tangled up in her. Her taste, the way she felt against him. She hadn’t even gotten out of her truck yet and he had to wrestle back his urge to lay her back and taste all of her.
He made himself back up instead.
“Uh, I didn’t need any help with anything, but I sure appreciate your idea of assistance,” Carmella said, a little breathless.
He took up at her side as they went into her house. Ginger was already waiting at the front door, happy her human was home.
“How’d you get out the door without your partner?” Duke asked.
“She was way happier here with her chewie and a patch of sunshine to sleep in than visiting my mother and her vicious little furball.”
“I really can’t blame her. But being around you is just as nice.”
“I have boobs, which you seem to appreciate like Ginger appreciates sunny patches for naps.” Her expression made him so damned pleased.
“You’re quite the comedian today.” Duke stole another kiss.
“Errands are done. Gorgeous man in my house wearing an I want to fuck you face. Going out on a boat with friends on a beautiful summer afternoon. I have a lot of wonderful coming my way. What’s not to smile over?”
“Put that way, yeah. Indeed.” Duke pulled her close, hugging her for a bit until the dog kept head butting him to get his attention.
“She’s jealous.” Carmella bent to scratch Ginger’s ears.
“If she knew what I planned to do with you, she’d run the other way.” Or watch. Carmella had to shut the bedroom door because the dog often sat looking at the two of them as if they were absolutely crazy.
“Maybe. She sort of looks that way all the time, though,” she said.
Ginger snorted a little bark and then, after assessing Duke and his lack of treats, went off to do her thing elsewhere.
“About that I want to fuck you thing. That’s accurate. Totally.”
Duke used his body to move her back to the couch. He eased her down, lying against her but not with his full weight. The windows were open, letting in some light, but the couch was low enough that while they reclined, they weren’t visible. But he knew Carmella had a thing about maybe being seen.
Duke was beginning to realize that he got off on making her hot. He loved watching the Carmella she showed to most people fall away and she gave him a side of herself he knew she rarely trusted anyone to see.
A secret, dirty Carmella that was all for Duke and goddamn if that didn’t make his fucking day. He got off on it in a way that shot right through his body.
“I’m going to have you,” he murmured against the skin of her neck. “And later, when we get home from being out on the boat all day? I’m going to have you again.”
She hummed her assent and he managed to get her shirt off while only breaking his mouth away from her skin for the barest of moments.
More. More. More.
Her bra fell away under his fingers, allowing him access to her breasts. He buried his face, breathing her in for long moments.
“If anyone came to the windows now, they’d see us, here on your couch. All spread out for me. Your lips swollen from my kisses, eyes glazed.”
She made a sound that seemed to tear through him. A moan full of need and pleasure. Her nails dug into his shoulders, urging him closer.
He licked over her nipples, going from one to the other. Then over the silk of each rib, down across her hips. Her ink stood out, the color of the flowers vivid against the cream of her skin. Feminine and sexy. Like Carmella herself.
“Carm, baby, I just want to spread you on toast and eat you up.”
“You don’t even need the toast. I’m low in calories,” she said, a tease in her tone.
“Leaves me more room to gorge on you without wasting any time on bread. I like the way you think.” He didn’t bother with the skirt she wore, as he dropped to his knees in front of her. Drawing her panties down her legs and off, he reversed his hold at her ankles, sliding his palms up her legs as he pressed them apart at the thigh, exposing her pussy. “Mmm yes. Right there.”
Duke dove in like a starving man and Carmella loved it. Loved the way he seemed to revel in her, in every single part of her, of her taste and the way she looked. She could easily get used to a man treating her like that all the time.
Which was stupid as well as dangerous. You went getting used to it and it hurt a hell of a lot more when it ended.
He held her wide, palms hot against her inner thighs. His beard scratched the sensitive flesh around her pussy and the pleasure pain of it was just on the verge of being too much.
Her skin felt too tight. Ready to burst with all the pleasure building up as he sucked on her clit, tickling the underside with the tip of his tongue. She arched against his hold and he kept her in place. Heat arced through her at that, at the ease of his strength.
Not once did he let go, licking and sucking relentlessly until climax hit her so hard all she could do was feel until she finally went limp, breathing hard.
The rip of the condom wrapper and he gripped her hips. Before her eyes were all the way open, he’d pulled her down as he rested on his knees, his cock thrusting into her pussy so hard she saw stars.
Carmella leaned back against the couch, giving herself balance so she could thrust back at him each time he moved. Though they both clearly were hot for the other, their frenzied movements clicked into synch after several breaths. And she let it.
Outside, she heard the drone of a lawn mower, the hum of other machines all the neighborhood dudes paraded out the first sunny day and played with at all hours until they had to admit the grass wasn’t going to need cutting until spring.
Anyone could hear Duke when he came. He tended to keep his sex talk quiet, but when he came, he could be loud. So could she, for that matter.
Neither of them spoke as he fucked her slow and deep. Each thrust sent her boobs bouncing, which seemed to delight him anew. She had no real complaint about such a thing.
In the kitchen, Ginger’s collar jingled as she got some water and then the flap of her doggie door opened, letting in a little more noise from outside. Carmella’s heart beat even faster as she heard her neighbor outside.
He rarely came over, but he could. Anyone could.
And Duke knew how wet that got her. And he worked it. For her.
Her orgasm was slow to build the second time around, but he adjusted her weight to reach between them and circle her clit with his fingertip in time with his thrusts.
“So close,” he muttered as he sped up.
Mail hit the door slot, falling onto the floor in her entry, and Carmella cried out, leaning in to bite his shoulder to keep quiet. Orgasm claimed her again, and with a snarl, the grip he had on one of her hips tightened as he came hard.
He continued to fuck into her slowly before pulling out, helping her sit on the couch and leaving quickly to deal with the condom before returning, flopping down beside her.
“So, welcome home,” Duke said, putting an arm around her shoulders.
“You really do have the best ways of saying that. Ginger just wants food.”
“I think you managed that very careful feat.” Carmella snorted.
“Who knew you had such a great sense of humor? Can I help with anything?”
“I need to change my clothes. You can’t help with that or we’ll never make it out the door. I made a bunch of sandwiches first thing this morning and some macaroni salad to go with.”
“I picked up soda, water, and beer. I have a cooler we can put the food in when we’re ready to leave. And what if you need help zipping or snapping or something? I’m sure I can help you get dressed.”
“I’ll be back out in a few minutes. Or I can come get you when I’m ready.”
Duke frowned and still looked handsome. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. You smell good.”
Carmella kissed him quickly and headed to her room to change. In the background she heard him talking to Ginger when the dog came back inside.
Really, this was the best Saturday she’d had in a really long time.
CHAPTER
Ten
We should get moving,” Duke said as they came back inside from her yard. Ginger would be staying home, so Carmella and Duke had played ball with her awhile, getting her nice and tired.
“Yeah. I’ll get all the food ready. I’ve got it all in the fridge so I can easily tuck it into your cooler or keep it in mine.” Without thinking about it, she yanked him down, tugging his shirt so she could kiss him quickly. He was so much taller she’d just found it easier to pull him to her height than to scramble up on things to get to his.
“I want to wash the dog slobber off my hands before we do.”
She laughed and pointed to her bathroom. Heaven forbid a little dog spit got on his precious steering wheel. “You take that sink and I’ll use the one in the kitchen.”
Once he’d disappeared, she’d headed into the kitchen, cleaning up, making sure the dog had food and water and moving the picnic supplies near the door.
Duke came out a few minutes later and Carmella smiled his way. “Ready?” Her gaze slipped to his hand and the bandage on it. There was a little blood on his shirt. Her smile fell away. “Are you all right? What happened?”
* * *
He lifted the hand, a little blood showing through the bandage. “I broke the glass you have next to the sink. Sorry.”
She moved to him, trying to take his hand. “Did you clean it up? Do you need stitches?”
“It’s not that serious. I found a first aid kit in your cabinet.” The most perfectly organized and supplied first aid kit he’d ever seen. Nor was he surprised to see it that way.
But he had been surprised to find all those bottles lined up in neat rows. All bearing someone else’s name. He’d been arguing with himself since opening that cabinet about whether to say anything. It was her business after all and it didn’t seem to affect her work or her life negatively.
But there were a lot of bottles. He’d seen this sort of stockpiling before and the size of that kind of addiction could land her in the hospital at best. The worst-case scenario wasn’t something he wanted to think on.
So he sucked in a breath and decided to say something. “Speaking of that. Honey, you’ve got a whole lot of pill bottles in there with someone else’s name on them.”
She flinched like he’d slapped her and he knew he’d landed a direct hit. He didn’t want to embarrass or hurt her, but he sure as hell didn’t want to lose her either.
He tried again when she didn’t reply. “What you do when you’re not at work isn’t my business—”
Carmella held up a hand to stop him speaking. “Those belong to my mother.” She pointed to a picture on the far wall of her and another woman. “Virgie Hay.”
Nausea swamped her. Shame that she’d been confronted like that. Accused in her own house. Not being able to trust him when she’d begun to truly believe he was someone to count on.
She hated few things more than feeling like a fool.
And then he made it worse. “Your name is Rossi and your uncle’s name is Salazar. Look, it’s fine. I don’t care that you might need a boost. I’m just saying that many bottles says you might have a problem.”
She blinked at him, utterly incredulous. Her first inclination was to apologize and then explain about how she had to monitor her mom, keep the pills with her so there’d be no accidents, overdoses, or days-long binges that drew Virgie into the darkest pit of her depression.
But Carmella then realized he hadn’t asked her anything. He assumed all sorts of stuff and made her some sort of villain when he had no reason to.
Carmella was only getting to know this man and she wasn’t feeling exactly eager to cut open a vein and vomit the trauma of her goddamn life to him. She didn’t owe him that. He hadn’t earned it.
“You’re out of line,” Carmella managed to say. “My mother’s name is different because she’s been married three times. It’s different from mine because I was married too.”
He gave her an expression that told her he thought she was making excuses. It sent her back to every time in her life she’d been looked at with that face. It seemed to pinball between all the worst moments until she throbbed with it.
“I like to party too so it’s not like I’m judging. I just worry about you,” Duke said as he stepped closer.
Carmella moved back, spine ramrod straight. She’d come into Twisted Steel and had given it her all. They had fistfights in the backyard and raced and got drunk and he had the stones to stand there and say all this to her? She showed up early, never shorted them even a minute of her time.
She went to her door and opened it. “Get out of my house.”
“Don’t be mad, Carm.” He held his hands up in entreaty. “How can you kick me out because I’m worried about you?” He pointed to her bathroom. “I care about you and that right in there is a pill problem that’s going to land you in the hospital. Or worse.”
“They’re my mother’s. I told you that.” Though the words came from Carmella’s mouth, her voice seemed to have come from a stranger. When he didn’t reply, she asked, “Are you firing me?”
He shook his head, clearly confused, and all she wanted to do was cry. Or punch his face. “Why are you so mad? What kind of guy do you think I am, anyway? Of course I’m not firing you.”
She tried to tell herself it was for the best that he had no idea why she’d be upset. It was good he was being so awful. It made the break easier.
“Fine. Now get the hell out. I’ll continue in my job unless you have a problem. This”—she waved a hand between them—“is over.”
Duke sighed explosively. “Of course it’s not over. You’re being defensive.”
“Gee, and why would that be? Because you just accused me of being an addict when you’re the day drinker? Fuck off.”
“I told you I don’t care about the pills.” Duke said this to her like it was entirely reasonable to snoop around in someone’s medicine cabinet, see pill bottles, and assume their presence meant the person was an addict. Oh, and then to accuse them of it on the way out the door to a romantic day on the boat.
“They’re not mine! Oh my god. Why am I even explaining this to you?” Carmella had to throw her hands up in utter frustrated disgust.
This was why having a man around for more than his cock and ability to fix things was a stupid idea.
Ginger knew there was trouble. She sat, leaning her body into Carmella’s calf. Reassuring. Giving support.
“How the hell can I believe they’re not yours?” Duke cocked his head, so earnest she probably could have forgiven him if he just shut up already. But it was too late. Her stomach hurt as he kept saying things she wasn’t sure he could ever take back.
“Because they’re not. Because I said so. Because m
y mother’s name is on them.” Because she’d never given him any reason to believe otherwise.
“Some of those meds are heavy-duty shit. You can’t be drinking at all with all those pills in your system. You’re going to overdose.”
It was as if she hadn’t said any of it. What a fool she’d been.
“Get out, get out, get out!” She was so outraged she didn’t even have the energy to be horrified she was screaming loud enough the neighbors could probably hear.
He loped from her house to her porch, deliberately taking his time, and she only narrowly avoided planting her foot in his ass. But she did slam the door, locking it. On shaky legs, she stepped quickly to close her front curtains.
“You know where I am when you come to your senses,” he called out as he headed next door.
Within five minutes, her phone received a text, and when she heard his tone, she blocked his number.
She was trustworthy, damn it! She took care of people and kept them out of trouble. She was a good person and he’d just made her feel like dirt. In her own home.
Having it be Duke who judged her, who saw her through that perception, was the worst part. Hadn’t she done enough penance for everyone else’s bullshit?
He was supposed to be different, and when you scratched the surface, he was just the same as all those other well-meaning strangers who took one look and decided who and what she was.
She grabbed her tote and leashed Ginger. “Come on, you. Let’s go for a ride.”
Ginger licked Carmella’s nose and gave her a little nuzzle of encouragement.
After peeking to be sure he wasn’t outside, she headed out with the dog to her truck. She’d had plans for romance, which had gotten shot all to hell. But she had a lunch packed and decided to head over to the Arboretum to eat her picnic anyway.
Duke got back to his house and texted Mick to let him know he and Carmella weren’t going to make it to their afternoon boat trip. He wasn’t overly specific, not wanting to drag all their friends into this situation.
He just needed to let Carmella cool off awhile. Of course, he realized that after he saw her truck was gone from her driveway. But it was for the best. He texted her a few times but then stopped when he realized she wasn’t going to reply.