Good Wood (Carved Hearts)

by L. G. Pace III

  Breaking free of my lips, he nibbled my neck and his talented mouth sent shivers of desire all the way to my toes. I raked my nails gently across his shoulders and was rewarded by a feral growl that rose deep from within his chest. His left hand slid up into the back of my hair gently gripped it at the nape. Pulling my head back, he began to tease me, nipping and sucking on the other side of my neck. I arched into him as he coaxed whimpers of pleasure from me.

  Desperate for more of him, I absently clawed at his pants and somehow succeeded in unbuttoning them. Sliding my palm inside I was rewarded with a handful of hard excitement. As my fingers closed around him he broke off this kiss and gently pulled my hand away

  “Molly…we shouldn’t.”

  “Why?” I was breathing with a great deal of effort and I could see the battle behind his eyes. He was wresting with something, struggling to fight the attraction between us. I should have backed down, but I needed to be wanted, and the image of Drae with Elaine blazed in the forefront of my mind like a brand. I slipped my hands back into Joe’s fly and he groaned, his breath becoming raspy.

  “Careful, little girl…” He moaned against my lips and I shut him up by closing my mouth on his. Careful was no longer in my vocabulary. He continued an attempt to resist my kisses and I bore relentlessly down on him. I desperately needed something good, to feel desired. Coming to Joe with this need was idiotic, knowing what I knew about him. It wasn’t right for him and wasn’t fair to me. But none of that mattered enough to stop me. I was going to have him.

  Grabbing his face with both hands, I coaxed his mouth with mine. I wanted him to want to play with me. Within seconds, his moan rushed into my mouth, and I felt his resistance melt away. Strong hands grabbed my ass and lifted me to him. One hand reached behind me and artfully released my bra. Once my breasts were free, he carefully placed me on the kitchen island. His mouth slipped from mine as he focused his attentions lower.

  My back arched as he made his way down my body. He removed the clothes from my lower half in one practiced motion. He looked up at me from under his dark lashes as he trailed kisses up my inner thigh.

  “Oh, God.” I whispered and the coy look he gave me in response was too much. I closed my eyes, dropping my head back onto the island. He took the hint and stopped teasing me. I suddenly found it hard to breathe as my hands gripped his hair, pulling his face harder against me. His skillful tongue teased and flicked its way along the most sensitive part of me, quickly bringing me to a body-rocking orgasm.

  As my brain regained some semblance of function, I slid down to the floor as he rose to his feet. I turned him around and pushed him back against the island, ripping his pants down and out of my way. I used every trick in my repertoire, and his responses told me everything I needed to know. He gripped my head, steadying me as he thrust repeatedly into my mouth. His labored breathing egged me on, coaxing me to perform.

  “Molly,” he moaned, and bit his lip.

  Suddenly, he yanked my mouth off of him and I groaned in protest. He pulled me to standing, and scrambling for a condom, he lifted me onto him. Thrusting himself inside me, the sheer force of his strokes drove the breath from my lungs as he powered into me. Joe nipped at my lips, his eyes holding me prisoner. I couldn’t look away from him if I’d wanted to and as the color rose in his cheeks, I really didn’t want to.

  He swiftly took me to the ground and he threw his head back as his thrusts continued over and over in a steadily increasing frenzy. Seeing him on the verge set me off all over again. Digging my fingertips into his flesh, my world exploded into chaos and my eyes rolled back in my head. As my body clamped around him, he moaned with undeniable pleasure and after several more fierce thrusts I felt him still. He collapsed onto me, softly kissing my neck. My arms and legs were still wrapped around him and refused to release him from the grip as we sprawled in a mess of paint and brushes, intertwined together.

  I STARED AT the ceiling, covered in paint and sweat, fighting to catch my breath. My mind reeled at the sudden unexpected appearance of Molly, who’d attacked me with all the force of a tidal wave and given me something to be extra thankful for.

  I’d expected the holiday to be much more ‘low key’. My visit with the family went better than I expected. I had a great time with the kids and even Robbie was less irritating than usual. I’d happily exhausted the girls by the time I left, and Tamz gave me a hug and whispered ‘thanks’. When I got home, I had tons of nervous energy so I decided to paint the place.

  Part of the process Dr. Greene and I had discussed was putting things in order. The chaos in my life was a symptom of my condition. So I needed to get my house in order in both the figurative and literal sense. Once the doc sniffed out the Molly situation, he put me in my place pretty quickly. The man has a way of calling me on my bullshit that borders on mystical. And really fucking annoying. “So Molly is Mac and Mason’s little sister?”

  “Yeah.” I was immediately uncomfortable with his judging expression.

  ”So you haven’t seen this Molly in a long time?”

  “Yeah. Not since she was a kid.”

  “Interesting.” He was scribbling furiously in his notebook by this time. “So do you think it’s a coincidence?”

  “Do I think what is a coincidence?” He gave me that long suffering patient look of his. God I hate his face sometimes.

  “I just find it interesting that this woman shows up from your past and suddenly you show remarkable progress. A desire to work towards getting better, a sudden resurgence of your artistic muse in relation to your woodcarving…” The smug expression he was trying to hide was getting under my skin.

  “So what? She just reminds me of…” I was suddenly at a loss for words.

  “Of what Joe?” I glanced at the clock suddenly wishing that our time was up. This conversation was making me uncomfortable.

  “I don’t know.” He gave me a withering look.

  “Oh come on. You’re smarter than that. She is obviously someone that can get to you on a level that even your sister can’t. So dig a little deeper here. Clear your thoughts. Then think of Molly and tell me the first thing that comes to mind.” Resisting the urge to tell him exactly what he could do with his bullshit Zen idea, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Clearing my mind, I focused on Molly.

  “Gorgeous, challenging, funny, dangerous…” The words came out without me having a chance to think about them. I opened my eyes to see the doc staring at me in surprise. He cleared his expression quickly and made some notes in his book.

  “Interesting. Why dangerous Joe? Is she a kick boxer?” That earned him a laugh which seemed to shock him more than anything I had done so far during the session, including punching his wall.

  “No. But she definitely could be. She just makes shitty decisions sometimes. Gets herself in over her head.”

  “And what? You feel the need to protect her from these bad decisions.”

  “She needs looking after, Doc. If you saw some of the shit she gets herself in to…” Something about the way he was looking at me stopped me mid-sentence. A jolt went through me as I realized what I had just said.

  I feel like I need to protect Molly. I wanted to kill those two little bastards on the South Congress that day. Not just run them off. I wanted to throw their stupid asses into traffic.

  Luckily, or maybe unluckily for me, the timer dinged and just like that our session was over.

  “Joe, if you’re serious about getting better you’re going to need to take this slow. You didn’t get here in a single day. You won’t get out in one either. Be patient. Take the time to do it right. And be honest with those around you.”

  Dr. Greene had left me with a great nugget when he ushered me out of his office. As much as I hated to admit it, he gave good advice. Maybe if I’d worked with him from the beginning I would be better by now. Probably not.

  I’d already decided to make the most of my time off, besides what I spent with the family. A couple of weeks before
, I’d ordered what I needed to finish both the apartments. I had a hard time getting Charlie to come over at first. I think he was afraid I was going to freak out on him. I told him he was the best plumber I knew, and his ego won out.

  I’d spent a few summers helping on finish work, so putting up the drywall and mudding took no time at all. I asked a painter friend about colors and ended up going with beige for the other apartment. Boring, but if I ended up renting it out, they were welcome to paint it.

  For my apartment, I’d picked a pale gray/blue. I found it calming somehow. When I got home from Tamryn’s, I figured I’d wrap up the project. I was just finishing the trim when I heard someone come up my creaky stairs. No one came to my place, so I thought I might be hearing things, but when I stopped to focus, I heard shuffling on the landing outside my door. Flinging the door wide, I saw Molly, crouched down in front of me with two pie tins. She looked up at me from her suggestive position, and I realized why I’d picked the color for my place. It matched her red-rimmed eyes.

  Molly tried to play it cool but I didn’t have to be Sherlock Holmes to see she’d been crying. She tried to drop the pies on my counter and go. I knew I shouldn’t pry. I was in no condition to offer advice to anyone. But she was obviously hurting and it was too much for me. I may not have answers, but I had always been a good listener. I tried to get her to talk to me, but it wasn’t long before we were kissing and then things got out of hand. We were one step away from doing something that I’d promised Dr. Greene I wouldn’t do with anyone -until I was a bit more stable. It took everything I had, but I managed to pull myself away from her.

  I tried to tell Molly that I wasn’t ready. That I needed to slow things down, as much as I wanted to take them=- and her-fast. When I opened my mouth to speak, she shut it with hers. I tried to resist her, but she broke my resolve like it wasn’t even there. Passion flared in me, not lust. For the first time since Jess, I wanted to please someone else.

  When we finally collapsed on the floor I waited for the guilt to hit. It never came. Like some sort of talisman against my dark world, Molly nestled up under my chin and molded her body to mine. Looking down at her, beautifully relaxed and streaked in paint, warmth spread through my chest. Soon the floor became too uncomfortable, and I roused her for a quick shower before the paint all over us became problematic to explain. She was on me again in the shower. Her appetite seemed insatiable and I was willing to take the challenge. Afterward, we lay in the dark in my bed.

  “Molly?”

  “Mmm?” She murmured against my chest. She cuddled further into me and I’ll be damned if I didn’t love every second of it.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” The silence dragged on until I wondered if she had fallen asleep. Her hand reached up and stroked my cheek, startling me.

  “I got some…rough news tonight. My ex got remarried last week.”

  “Oh.” It’s embarrassing to admit it, but it stung that she’d been crying over some other guy.

  “To my former sous chef, one of my best fucking friends. That son of a bitch knocked her skanky ass up before we were even split up. She’s going to bare his spawn any day now. And I sold that bitch my half of the business too…for practically nothing.”

  I felt a surge of anger at the betrayal. Anyone treating her that way was unthinkable. I searched myself for something to say that wouldn’t sound trite and realized I had no idea what that might be. My jaw clenched tensely as I suddenly felt empathy for everyone who’d had to interact with me since the accident.

  “The trifecta of humiliation, Molly-style. That’s me. Go big or go home.” She sniffed and rolled away, sitting on the side of the bed with her back to me.

  “Stop it.” I gently chided her as I sat up. I reached out to touch her bare flesh. “He’s a dick and she’s a backstabber. That’s on them, not you.”

  “You were right, Joe. You never really know anybody.” Her curt response was thick with tears, and she picked her bra up off of the floor. I wanted her to turn around so I could see her face. “It’s late. I’d better go.”

  “No. Come here.” I reached over and pulled her back onto the bed with me, plucking the bra from her hand I tossed it back on the floor. Her cheeks were wet with angry tears. “Talk to me.”

  Her shiny eyes met mine with hesitation. She seemed pensive, and I wondered what was going on behind those soulful eyes. “I just want you to hold me. Is that okay?”

  My mind came up with a lot of reasons that it shouldn’t be okay. But my heart wouldn’t let me say any of them aloud.

  “Sure. But—” Her fingers slid over my lips, silencing me. Her thigh draped over my leg and she nestled into the crook of my shoulder. Drifting off to sleep with her in my arms I was consumed with a feeling that I had not felt in a long time. Contentment.

  JOE WAS STILL sound asleep when the tickling fingers of dawn pulled me from my slumber. Deliciously sore in all the right places, I was more relaxed than I’d been in a long time. The trials of Thanksgiving Day weren’t forgotten, they just didn’t matter as much to me anymore. I lay there and studied Joe’s face while he slept. He looked so much younger, so peaceful. It was easier to ignore the torments lurking behind those beautiful eyes.

  Maybe he’ll want to go get breakfast. I could run down to the bakery and surprise him with something fresh.

  Nope. He’ll tell me to leave. Most definitely. I don’t want to be the crazy girl holding baked goods if he does. God knows he has issues with muffins, it might extend to bagels and donuts, too.

  I remembered his gentle attempts the night before to get me to talk about why I was such a hot mess. There were definite fingerprints of Old Joe all over that conversation. Though it had been a sweet gesture, I couldn’t go down that road with him. I knew myself well enough to know that I’d fall head over heels in love with Joe in a New York minute. The two of us dabbling as ‘friends with benefits’ would annihilate me. I wasn’t built for that sort of relationship, especially not with him of all people. My dad used to say ‘Molly never does anything half way”. It was a wise observation. I needed to ‘Cowgirl up’, in Granny H. terminology. Get up, get dressed, and get the hell out of dodge.

  Moving slowly, I slipped off the bed and searched the apartment for the rest of my paint covered clothes. Thankfully they weren’t in as bad of shape as I expected. Probably because Joe took them off before the real action went down.

  Recalling Joe’s impressive skills sent chills through me, and I scrambled to dress in a hurry before my willpower completely evaporated. The protective way he’d held me the night before was even more addictive than the sex, and I could have easily walked right back into his bedroom and started our little cycle all over again. Instead, I took a final moment to check that I had everything and closed the door quietly behind me.

  Treading softly down the stairs, I made my way up the block and into the bakery. It smelled like buttery goodness, and I couldn’t wait to drown my sorrows in carbs. I needed the biggest coffee they had-preferably one the size of a bucket. I was surprised to see the place virtually abandoned. One lone customer sat by the window and a twenty-something hipster was running the counter. Then I remembered it was Black Friday morning and everyone was either sleeping in or bitchslapping each other over cheap Xboxes.

  Hipster boy smiled at me from under his curled mustache, and I wondered what he thought of my “just been fucked’ hair and paint-splotched clothes. I decided I really didn’t give a shit and asked how big the to-go cups were. He showed me and I ordered a cheese Danish and two large coffees. The bell of the door chimed and glancing over, I saw Joe rush in. He stopped just inside the door, gasping for breath as if he’d been running from something. He’d obviously thrown on the first items of clothing he’d found, because it was cold outside and he was dressed in a ‘wife beater’ and red sweat pants. His shoes were untied and he had no socks on. The middle-aged lady by the window turned and immediately undressed him with her eyes.

  “Can you add a bea
r claw to that?” I tossed the question at Mr. Moustache, figuring Joe and I were about to have breakfast after all. He nodded in response, giving a long and curious sideways glance in Joe’s direction.

  “I think we should do something sometime.” Joe blurted loudly and his statement echoed in the nearly empty room. I just blinked at him, too surprised and stunned by this turn of events to reply. As if just realizing he had an audience, Joe glanced over at the guy behind the counter. Hipster dude was in the midst of pouring my coffees. A knowing look bloomed on the young man’s face and his eyes flicked back and forth between us as if he were at a tennis match. Without moving from his spot by the door, Joe set his jaw and waited for me to respond. Finally I managed to find my voice.

  “You mean besides have lots of sex?” I called this back to him at the same volume he’d used with me, and enjoyed the beat red cheeks my response elicited. His face was now the color of his sweat pants and the woman by the window scraped her chair legs as she turned her seat completely around for a better view of the show.

  Joe glanced toward the sound and reacted to her presence with an uncomfortable wave. She waved back, obviously delighted by the opportunity for audience participation. Heaving an exasperated sigh, he turned back to meet my eyes and replied. “Yes.”

  “What exactly did you have in mind?” I called to him, pulling out my debit card and waving it in the air to get the stunned employee’s attention. The young man scrambled forward with my coffees. I could tell he was struggling to contain his laughter. Joe shot him a lethal look and quickly crossed the room to join me where I stood at the cash register.

  “I don’t know. Dinner, maybe?” His volume had finally reached an appropriate level. I handed him my spare coffee without thinking about it.