You, Me, and the Crazy Ex: A Club Stigmata Novella

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You, Me, and the Crazy Ex: A Club Stigmata Novella Page 4

by Luckett, Elle


  “Hey,” was about all I could manage. I’d chosen that particular moment to move and felt the fire on my ass, thighs, and pussy flare to life, cutting off any hope of articulating anything further. The only benefit of that was the flare of heat in Denton’s eyes when he caught my reaction.

  “Thomas helped me apply something to ease the pain before he and Christopher left.”

  Even though he’d already explained they were gone, my head swiveled to observe the corner where the brothers had been sitting. I found it empty.

  “I’d forgotten they were there,” I croaked out.

  Denton smiled and handed me a bottle of water, his palm brushing strands of hair from my face as I accepted gratefully and drank deeply. “Thanks to you, they ordered two more of these beasts.”

  “Me?” I huffed out a laugh, raising an eyebrow. “I was just strapped to the damn thing.”

  Denton didn’t respond to that—he didn’t have to. He simply smiled. His eyes sparking to life.

  “What?”

  “I had fun.”

  I grinned at that and felt the blush rise to my cheeks. I wanted to tell him it was the best sex I’d ever had in my life, but that seemed inappropriate somehow. That felt like the wrong kind of needy that no one enjoyed. So, I kept my reply simple. “Me, too.”

  “I realize you don’t know me all that well…” he trailed off as I shifted, and the blanket fell away to reveal my breasts, which captured his full attention. Part of me wanted to grapple for the material and cover myself again, but the rational part of my brain applied the logic and imagery of what this man had just done to my naked body. Those thoughts alone had my lips curving into a satisfied smile instead.

  Denton slid a hand over my ribs to my breast, thumbed around my nipple in a slow, seductive circle before his head tipped up, and his eyes met mine again. He did this so casually, so gently, but I felt it everywhere. The stirring deep inside made my body ache.

  “As I was saying, you don’t know me that well, but I would love for you to come to my shop and see some of the other designs.” He pinched my nipple lightly and rolled it between his thumb and index finger, watching as my body jerked in a chain reaction. “Maybe have dinner after?”

  “Like a date?”

  “Not like…”

  “I would like that.”

  Denton’s smile was a reward all on its own, but he pinched the nipple he was rolling with more force and tugged. My body followed, hips and ribs arching from where I was cradled in his lap, my ass grinding against his cock, making him jerk with his own sense of urgency.

  “How much pain are you in?” he asked. His arm swept under my back and pulled my shoulders toward him. Before I could respond, his hot mouth closed around my nipple. I knew right then it was pointless to fight my own need for this man.

  I wanted him, maybe even more than he wanted me.

  * * *

  The buzzing came from somewhere overhead. It was persistent and wouldn’t go away. Like an angry bee against a window on a hot summer’s day, it went on and on until I finally peeled one eye open and groaned at the sunlight shining through my bedroom window.

  I vaguely remembered getting home. Denton had insisted he give me a ride and had even sat in his delivery van watching me sway down the drive and up the steps to the apartment over the garage. There, I’d given him a wave goodbye before beelining to my bedroom and falling into my bed. I’d barely found the time to kick my shoes from my feet, plug in my phone and curl up on my stomach before I’d crashed hard.

  Stirring to try and find the source of the buzzing, I rolled onto my back and yelped in pain. My ass and pussy felt like they’d been flayed. White-hot flames were consuming my flesh, and yet I acknowledged my lips curling into a broad joyful smile at the memory of exactly how they’d come about.

  The buzzing had died somewhere between the rolling and the yelp, so I flopped to my stomach and tried to find a comfortable spot as the fatigue returned, and sleep demanded my full attention. I was just fading out again when the buzzing resumed.

  It was my phone.

  With a groan, I reached to the spot where it usually rested and found the device dancing over the surface of my nightstand. It took too much effort to pull my phone to me, but I managed with a groan and didn’t bother looking to see who I was going to murder when I spoke. I didn’t bother opening my eyes. It seemed too cruel.

  “Please tell me there’s a reason for this call.”

  “You weren't at church this morning,” my mother said curtly from the other end of the line.

  “You’re about twelve years too late for that lecture, Mom.”

  “I’m an eternal optimist, my sweet child. Breakfast is ready. Get your tush up before I send your sister over there to get you.”

  She hung up, and I swear I could hear my dad’s laughter from the main house. I never missed my dad’s Sunday breakfasts because he always saved me a plate. She was calling me because Skylar had demanded it of her. If I didn’t conform and get my ass up, my sister would be over here bouncing on my bed, which would lead to me squealing in pain and shooting more questions at me than I had the energy to answer.

  I attempted to slide to the edge off the bed, and I whimpered.

  This was going to be interesting.

  All the more when my already limited adjustment period was murdered by my front door slamming closed.

  “Emerson!” My name came out in a perfect melody as Skylar sang it. I forced myself upright and released all the breath I’d been holding when the sharp pain instantly subsided to a manageable throbbing.

  Fucking crops.

  “I’m up, Sky. You couldn’t give me five more minutes?”

  “Nope. I had to tell you the news.” She slipped into my bedroom in her usual graceful lope and leaned against the door frame as I forced myself to walk as normally as I could toward the bathroom. “Did you sleep in your dress?”

  “I got in late and was tired.” I slipped into the bathroom and left the door open. “What’s going on?”

  I went through my routine as she started going through everything she’d done since I’d talked to her last, wondering if she would ever get to the damn point. She had so many friends from college that it took her a while to catch me up on them all. I was digging through my closet when she finally got to the real reason she was here on a Sunday.

  “Bo saw you on Bourbon Street last night.”

  “Bo?” I asked, pulling on a light summer dress.

  “You know Bo. He used to date that chick from the other sorority.”

  ‘Other sorority’ could have meant any of the ones in the college. The only sorority she recognized was the one she’d pledged, just like the only fraternity they accepted was Nate’s. I was none the wiser but made a noise of recognition anyway.

  “Do you not pay attention to anything we discuss?” she asked in a teasing tone, not convinced by my response.

  “Remind me again who he is.”

  “Tall, blond, handsome. He had that Boston accent that you always tried to copy.”

  That I remembered.

  “Okay, Bo,” I said with more familiarity. “Why would he ask about me?”

  Skylar stuck her head around the door of my bathroom and gave me an exasperated sigh. “He didn’t. He saw you last night. Said you were sneaking down an alley to an old courtyard, and when he tried to catch up with you, the gate was locked.”

  “Your point?”

  “Emerson.” Her tone said what she hadn’t. She wanted the truth. Locked gates on Bourbon Street weren’t unusual. Having access to them was. Especially for someone like me; a plain Jane nobody with limited social skills and finances, though she wouldn’t say that aloud.

  “Skylar.”

  “You’re acting shady as hell.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Where were you?”

  “A club.”

  “What kind of club? Most have storefronts on Bourbon.”

  “Sky, I don’t ask
you what you do every night. I don’t ask you where you go when you disappear on Tuesday nights without your phone. I don’t ask—”

  “Ask me.”

  “I don’t want to know. My point is, you have your life, I have mine, even when you make assumptions that I don’t.” I gave her a saccharine-sweet smile and winked to make sure she knew I was mostly teasing her. “I love you, but we don’t have to share every detail of our days with one another.”

  “Shady,” she repeated with a small smirk.

  “Nosey,” I deadpanned, trying not to move too quickly and wince. I could deal with the ache, but the sharp pain was a bitch.

  “Fine. But promise me one thing.”

  “I’m safe there. Safer than I am on Bourbon Street, and I’m happy, too. Now, can we please go and eat? I’m starving, and I have a date later.”

  “A date?” Her inquisitive tone returned.

  “No one you know.”

  “You found a date on your own. I’m so proud.”

  I gave her a scathing look and earned myself a quiet giggle.

  “Get out of here, you brat. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

  Rolling her eyes dramatically, Skylar pushed away from the door but kept her hands on the frame and swung inside with a bright smile before finally releasing her grip and heading out of my bedroom and apartment. The information I’d spoon-fed her about the date was enough to sate her curiosity for now, but I would be waiting for her call tonight. A whole day to think about this would drive her half-crazy. Somehow, that thought cheered me up, and I took the precious moments I had alone to apply some aloe to my ass, hissing out a quiet laugh as it made that sharp slicing pain flare again. The thought of meeting Denton again was almost torture. Especially if he tried to demonstrate any of his other pieces for me… although that seemed as though it would be worth the pain.

  Chapter Six

  Denton’s workshop wasn’t what I’d expected. The shop itself was an old metal warehouse that was tucked away on a small parcel of land surrounded by trees on the south side of the Mississippi River. Behind the metal building was a well-loved, single-wide mobile home, which also belonged to Denton. That was where he appeared with a black lab at his heels when I pulled my car onto the long dirt drive. This wasn’t a bad area necessarily, but the lot across the street from him was housing hollowed and rusted car bodies that made it feel more industrial than residential.

  I slowed to a stop as I neared the building and watched as he approached in ripped jeans, an old flannel shirt, and a backward Saints cap that made him look even sexier than the night before. The young dog bounded around Denton’s legs as he waited to see who had come to visit, and the moment I opened the door, he attempted to head in my direction only to stumble to a stop at Denton’s barked command while he held out a palm to keep the dog’s attention on him.

  “How do you feel about dogs, beautiful?” he asked in a relaxed tone.

  I grinned as I climbed out and pushed the door closed, pocketing my keys. I’d changed into shorts before coming, and I was glad I had. “I love them.”

  I only got a glimpse of his returning smile before he dropped his hand, and the dog came galloping toward me on huge paws that seemed to be cumbersome for him. To his credit, the dog didn’t jump on me once, he just danced around my feet, his butt wiggling furiously from side to side as he whined in glee. When I finally crouched next to him, I got a cold nose over my shoulders and arms as he tried to roll his way into my lap, wiggling like a giant worm. I rubbed him with my short nails, ignoring the burn of my ass as it grazed my heels, and buried my face in his warm black fur as we greeted one another. I couldn’t help my quiet sigh of happiness.

  “He’s beautiful,” I crooned, my arms around the dog’s neck as my eyes found Denton approaching us.

  “He’s ridiculous.”

  “What’s his name?” I asked, rubbing behind his ears affectionately.

  “Brees.”

  I gave the dog one last rub and pushed my way up to stand in front of Denton, one hand landing on the Brees’ head, while the other flicked the bill of Denton’s cap. “As in the football player?”

  “The very same.”

  “I wasn’t sure it was possible to think you were sexier, yet here I am.” I sighed dramatically like a damsel and grinned.

  “You think I’m sexy,” he teased, wrapping one arm around my waist and pulling me close.

  “You have no idea.”

  Denton grabbed my ass with the palm of his hand and squeezed a yelp from me, his eyes darkening with arousal as the sound died into a quiet panting groan of discomfort.

  “I take that back,” I muttered with a strangled laugh. I was beginning to wonder if he had a touch of sadism inside of him, though I was sure it was just the reminder of our time together.

  “Are you in a lot of pain today?” he asked casually. He’d left his arm around my waist but swung his body to the side so he was beside me, now leading us both toward the metal building in a casual lope.

  “More discomfort than pain,” I admitted, throwing my arm around him. It was entirely too easy to be around this man. I barely knew him, and yet it felt like we’d been doing this forever. Sex had a way of breaking down some barriers, though never quite like this. I wanted to ravage him and curl up in his arms in equal measures. He seemed like he would have accepted either from me without an ounce of hesitation.

  Denton approached the door to his workshop and pulled away from me long enough to type a code into a panel. He eventually pulled the door open before holding it for Brees and nudging me inside.

  The whole building smelled like sawdust and varnish. It wasn’t an unpleasant smell, in fact, it was similar to what I’d thought the first time I’d been close to this man, which made it oddly comforting and familiar. He stepped away from me for a moment, while Brees took off into the darkness of the building, his nose to the ground and tail swishing from side to side. The heavy industrial lights came on overhead, illuminating the space around us, and my eyes widened in surprise.

  The main area was a big open space with several tools and machines dotted around several stations, each holding a work in progress. Along the sides were finished pieces, partially finished pieces, and piles of discarded materials. I only needed a glance to see that this man took a lot of pride in his work. I stepped up to a St. Andrews cross and ran my hand over the shiny polished surface in reverence. Fingering the D-rings he’d worked in to look like they’d grown from the wood itself.

  “These are the custom pieces,” Denton said quietly behind me. He covered my hand with his, and the warmth of his palm was intoxicating in the climate-controlled building.

  “How long does it take you to make one of these?”

  “Depends,” he mumbled into my hair as he shuffled closer and pressed his body against mine. “What the material is, the specifications, the finishes.”

  I leaned back against him, my head on his chest as I scanned the room and the few custom orders scattered around. I found what he did fascinating. There was pure beauty in his craftsmanship, but the man himself was a distraction. His hands, his breath, the beat of his heart against my shoulder—all of it pulled my attention from the wood surrounding us and made my breath stutter from my lungs as my flesh came alive.

  “Do you have personal pieces?” I breathed.

  His chuckle told me that I hadn’t been anywhere close to subtle. “Are you asking to see my dungeon, beautiful?”

  “I—”

  Leaning closer, Denton closed his lips around my earlobe and grazed his teeth over the surface, making all of the tender spots on my body fluctuate between need and pain as it reacted to his quiet stimulation. “I didn’t invite you over to fuck you, Emerson. Believe me, I want to sink my cock into you more than I can explain, but it’s not why I asked you here.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “I know,” he answered in a hoarse, hushed voice—a purr. Dropping one of his hands to my thigh, his thumb brushed the hem o
f my shorts in long, slow strokes. “Just like I know if I were to slip my hands up your shorts, you’d be wet already.”

  “But?”

  “But this is a date.”

  “People don’t fuck on dates anymore?”

  Denton chuckled, his hips pushing against mine so his erection grazed my tender ass. “I’m trying to make a good impression on you. Show you I can be more than the man demanding your obedience and withholding your orgasms.”

  My skin broke out in gooseflesh. Every part of my body was attuned to him, waiting for his touch, his next words, or his quiet commands. I didn’t care what came first, what he took first, I just needed him to take it. The man was intoxicating and driving me to the brink of insanity. I hadn’t come here wanting sex either, but the chemistry between us was undeniable.

  “Jesus, I can feel your excitement,” Denton rocked his hips against me again, almost willing to give into my pitiful demands. I was completely at his mercy at this point, even when I had nothing but free will to do as I pleased.

  We were so close and so hungry for one another that when Brees let out a sharp warning bark and rushed from the other side of the building, we quickly broke apart like teenagers caught by parents. I burst into fits of laughter first. The pain screaming through my body as a reminder of what it had already endured. Denton looked amused, but his eyes had followed the dog to the door of the workshop, while his hand removed his cap and resituated it in discomfort.

  When Brees let out another sharp bark, all trace of good humor left Denton’s face, and his shoulders stiffened.

  “Everything okay?” I asked, leaning against a bench with a table saw on it.

  “Someone’s here.”

  “That a problem?” I asked, trying not to push.

  “I was only expecting you, beautiful.” He stepped toward me, brushing a loosened strand of hair over my shoulder as his heated eyes dropped to my chest for a second. “I operate by appointment only. With all this loud machinery, it can be dangerous to have people show up.”

 

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