All In

by JC Szot

  I have to kiss her. Fuck it!

  He couldn’t wait. She was killing him slowly. Mick was dying from unspoken words and pent-up feelings. He was about to erupt. There was much to lose, but if he didn’t take the chance, he’d never know.

  Just one kiss, something for her to meditate on.

  Mick couldn’t reveal his knowledge of the books. He’d act on that another time. If there was a next time?

  He leaned in closer. Her sweetened smell had him chewing his cheek with a raw hunger. When their noses touched, her eyes clamped shut. Mick grazed her chin with his thumb and index finger, then angled his mouth over hers.

  She pulled a rush of air through her nose before his lips touched hers. Her mouth was hot and moist, her lips gummy with a lip balm that flavored his mouth like a sugared confection.

  Mick so wanted her to touch him, even the slightest stroke of a finger. Her hands hung at her sides, as if dazed by all that was happening.

  He felt her lips relax under his. Mick opened his mouth slightly, not wanting to intimidate her. He lightly touched her upper lip with his tongue, his insides quaking. His cock curled against his sweatpants. His balls were full of fire, ready to surge with a release Mick had only ever been able to imagine.

  Cara had been reading her fantasies, but Mick had been conjuring up some of his own. Not wanting to be greedy, Mick stepped back, dropping his gaze to the floor. He turned, afraid of what her expression might reveal, stepped into his sneakers and quickly reached for his shirt and wallet, all with one sweep of his hand across the bureau. His pulse pounded in his chest, his blood racing.

  “I’m going to get a coffee and a hot chocolate for you,” he said, clearing his throat and hastily leaving the room.

  ****

  Cara put her hand over her mouth, stumbling back until the bed forced her to sit, her limbs weightless, her mind reeling. Her body was doing things it only did while she read. Now Mick had done those things. These sensations were real and so much more pronounced when engaging with another human.

  Her breasts felt heavier, her nipples hard, like darts. Her pussy was swollen, the apex of her thighs damp. Internal heat flowed through her belly.

  Cara stood on shaky legs. She walked toward the window. Mick was already gone, but the effects of his body near hers, his kiss, left an aftermath of sensations Cara wasn’t sure she could ignore.

  How long had he been thinking of her that way? Cara rubbed the sweaty heels of her hands down her thighs and began to pace the small room. Were things between them going to move to another level? Could they do that after all this time? The idea of what would come next gnawed at her nerves. A panicked excitement fluttered through her body. The last time she’d had any contact of that sort it’d gone badly, a dark memory that she couldn’t shake. Mick wouldn’t do that, but he was a guy, and men were a part of the population Cara didn’t have much experience with. Was a physical relationship something she could take a chance on right now, being so far from home? If things went badly the only place to run was back to The Hollow.

  Cara spun and looked at the small, digital clock on the nightstand. Mick was only going for coffee and cocoa. It seemed like he’d been gone for hours. She needed to occupy her thoughts with something else.

  Cara grabbed her pack off the floor and rummaged for her book. Tim and Erin were shopping. Cara sat down on the edge of the bed and dove into the scene.

  ****

  “That’s gorgeous, baby,” Tim smiled, eyeing her reflection in the mirror. He turned and locked the door, securing them inside the small dressing room.

  “Again? Here?” Erin said in a strained whisper. “You never get enough. You’re a naughty man.” She wagged a finger.

  “I could fuck you all day, every hour on the hour,” Tim smiled slyly. “Now take that thing off so I don’t damage it before we even pay for it.”

  Erin pulled the sundress up and over her head, placing it back on the hanger. Tim tugged his shirt over his head and fumbled with his belt and khakis.

  “I don’t know anybody who gets naked as quick as you,” Erin whispered, giggling.

  “I do it like nobody’s business.” Tim licked his lips. He leaned into her ear, his breaths scorching. “Watch me fall to my knees and gorge on your pussy, then we’ll fuck right in front of the mirror. How’s that, babe?”

  Tim did just that. He removed her thong, raising her leg. He rested her foot on the small corner bench, giving himself access.

  “Mm, so sweet,” he murmured. Tim crawled closer. Erin looked into the full-length mirror, watching Tim’s tongue swipe through the folds of her pussy.

  “Oh, God,” she gasped. Her eyes rolled across the ceiling. Airy breaths reverberated through the quiet dressing room. Tim’s tongue combed her slit, swirling over her clitoris, always in his skilled and decadent manner.

  Erin could smell herself. The scent of her damp arousal rose into the air. Tim’s tongue pushed up inside her, drinking from her body. Cool air hit her tissues as he scrambled to his feet and spun her around. Erin leaned on the mirror, her fingers splayed apart.

  Tim’s knee pushed her legs apart. Erin arched back into him, feeling his warm groin and the tickling of the soft hair there. His laughter rained in her ear.

  “You’re so in tune with me, baby. I don’t have to say a word. Your body just molds into mine.” As he spoke Erin felt Tim’s cock knife into her from behind. His body filled hers, taking ownership once again.

  “Oh, yeah,” Erin gasped. Tim’s hips hammered her. His mouth latched onto her ear, his declaration a guttural groan.

  “You know what, baby?”

  “Tell me,” Erin sighed, their bodies undulating.

  ****

  The jingling of keys in the lock had Cara jumping to her feet. She tossed the book into her pack, quickly reclined on the bed and pulled the bedspread over her. She closed her eyes, waiting. The bedspread lightly grazed her sensitive nipples. Her flesh flamed as every nerve short-circuited. Cara licked her lips. Was her body parched, thirsting for more?

  Pretending she was asleep was a cop-out and she knew it. She just needed more time to think. They were both confined to this tiny room. There was nowhere to go. What she’d felt with him earlier, well— Cara opened an eye to peek at her backpack. Those things only happened in books. Real life was quite different.

  But real l life had to be faced. Cara had no idea how to navigate through the confusion.

  Chapter Sixteen

  How Cara could sleep, Mick didn’t know. He was wired, his mind and his dick doing battle. Had the kiss not had the same effect on her? The thought was disappointing. Mick shoved it from his mind. He set her hot chocolate down on the nightstand and then sat by the window, occupying the only chair in the room.

  Mick glanced back at Cara, her body neatly curled, her hands beneath her cheek. Her breaths were a rhythmic hissing of air. He’d have to drop the bomb tomorrow morning.

  Ken caught him downstairs and pulled him aside. Apparently the asshole he roughed up had already threatened to press assault charges. Ken advised that they better be on their way by dawn if they wanted to avoid any further hassles.

  Ken had checked. They could get a train out. Where they were going Mick wasn’t sure.

  ****

  Once things downstairs quieted, Mick slipped out and meandered into the vacant pub. He stood at the edge of the bar and waited for Ken. As Ken looked up, their reflections caught in the dark front windows of the pub. Ken turned and made his way toward the bar.

  “Hey, Mick … you all right?” he asked.

  “Yeah.” Mick felt his face tighten, still irritated over his behavior. Ken’s voice echoed through the now tranquil rooms of his busy establishment.

  “It’s just business, Mick. I also don’t want you and Cara to have any trouble. You both served me well, believe me. I’d keep you if I could.” He shook his head, his expression one of disappointment.

  Mick asked Ken if he could use the computer in the office
and check the train schedule.

  “Where’re you thinking of going?” Ken asked, stacking the menus on the bar.

  “I want to eventually wind up near the shore points. I need the ocean,” Mick told him.

  “You’ll have no trouble finding work. Actually, the earlier you get there, the better,” Ken informed him. “Let’s go in the back and search some stuff for you.” Ken waved him back into his office.

  The train Mick and Cara needed to catch left at ten-forty the next morning. It would take them to Point Pleasant, New Jersey.

  “Ocean City’s a nice town, but it’s also a dry town. They don’t sell liquor there, so that might limit your job opportunities,” Ken said. “Point Pleasant’s a good place to start, though. Some towns are still struggling to rebuild after the hurricane. There’ll be some sort of work there for you. It might not be in the kitchen, but my brother said you’re quite the hustler.” Ken smiled, tapping the edge of the desk. He stood and extended his hand to Mick. “If you need a reference, don’t hesitate.”

  Mick made his way back upstairs and reclined on a narrow patch of mattress. He dozed on and off and woke when the pink hues of dawn lighted the room. He crept out into the hall and went in search of coffee.

  ****

  When he returned and opened the door, fumbling with the Styrofoam cups, Cara was already up.

  Mick smiled faintly, setting their cups on the nightstand. He removed a small paper bag from under his arm and handed it to her.

  Cara looked inside. Her mouth salivated at the sight of two bagels wrapped in waxed paper, the butter and jam bleeding through.

  “Thanks,” she said quietly. He’s so damn aloof! After years of Mick being a fairly easy read, this morning he was as illegible as a doctor’s signature.

  Things needed to be said, but now wasn’t the time. They needed to move into the next phase of their plan, whatever that phase was. Work and a place to stay came first.

  Cara sat down on the edge of the bed and vented the lid to what she knew was hot chocolate. She drank it all year round, just like a coffee lover.

  The crinkling of paper filled the silence. They began to eat. After forcing down two bites, Cara couldn’t stand it anymore, the unease that lingered due to the previous evening.

  “What’s happening? she asked, wiping her mouth.

  Mick’s eyes flicked to hers.

  “We need to move on. Ken’s afraid there could be trouble. I did assault that guy,” Mick shook his head. How’s South Jersey sound? Some sand, and the salty sea,” he said, his tone uncertain.

  “Sounds good,” Cara smiled, trying to reassure him. “What’s our mode of transportation?”

  “We’re taking a train. It leaves in about an hour,” he said, looking down into his cup as if a solution was floating on the surface of his coffee. He looked up at her. His teeth gnawed at his lip.

  “You still with me?” he asked, his voice barely audible.

  “I’m still here, aren’t I?” Cara laughed, needing to plow through this thicket of confusion that’d grown between them overnight. She didn’t like it. The longer she ignored it, the denser it would become. His next inquiry had her heart tripping.

  “You all in, Cara? Despite everything?” Mick asked. Lines deepened around his eyes as they bore into her.

  Everything? Was Mick referring to the tussle between him and Ken’s customer, their kiss, or both? Was Mick rethinking his advances toward her? The ground shifted beneath her feet. The maze she wandered through forked before her, her confirmations now cloudy. Maybe he wanted her to commit fully to the entire package before he took a risk and proceeded. It was much to ask, but if it wasn’t for Mick she’d still be rotting in The Hollow.

  Cara stood up and tossed her cup into the trash, feeling the heaviness of his stare. She zipped up her pack and set it near the door, glancing back at him.

  “I’m still here, and I’m all in.” Her voice wavered.

  “Good,” Mick nodded. “Then let’s go.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The train ride to Point Pleasant was the shortest of their journey so far. When they stepped out onto the platform of the train station, the sun had barely passed its noontime peak.

  They wandered around the station before flagging down a local cab. Mick tossed their packs into the backseat and they settled in.

  “Where to?” The driver shot a backward glance at them in the rearview mirror.

  “Downtown,” Mick answered, extending his legs out in front of him.

  “Nothing much there.” The driver snorted. “Hurricane’s wiped the place out. Best off heading to the outskirts.”

  “Are they looking to rebuild? We’re looking for work,” Mick informed him.

  “I believe so. Pebble Beach would better suit you, at least for the time being.”

  Cara looked at Mick.

  “Okay, then,” he relented, sinking back into the seat.

  The cab moved through the station traffic, easing onto Route 35. Cara opened up the window, allowing some air to circulate. It was warmer here, the tease of a pending spring. She hadn’t really been paying attention to those fine details, not really having a set routine like she did at home.

  The Hollow was long gone, slipping back into the recesses of her mind. Ever since they’d left, she hadn’t looked back. Cara traced the scar on her arm, a souvenir of their first hours on the road. The skin was candy-heart pink, feeling thin and delicate.

  Pebble Beach was a small shore community with simple, saltbox houses that lined the streets. Though the trees were still bare, Cara could envision a lush canopy of foliage gracefully arching overhead, keeping the sidewalk cool during the warm summer months.

  A center hub came into view, providing all the basics, a small grocery store and gas station with a bank and post office. Two motor inns sat on opposite ends.

  “Here is good,” Mick said, leaning over the front seat.

  “Up to you,” the driver said, pulling alongside the curb.

  Mick fumbled through his pocket and handed the driver a few rumpled bills. They grabbed their packs and stepped out into the afternoon sun.

  “Thanks.” Mick tapped the roof. The driver nodded, pulling away.

  They stood, taking in their surroundings.

  “Okay,” Mick sighed. “Which place looks the best?” he asked, chuckling.

  Cara noted that his demeanor had rebounded slightly, his face free of worry lines. She looked at each end of the main thoroughfare, assessing his question.

  It was either The Sandpiper or The Beachcomber. Both motor inns were practically vacant. Cara noted that The Beachcomber had an ice machine. She also noticed a sign above directing guests to the laundry room. It was a no-brainer. She hated laundromats. It was an ugly memory of home, lugging bags of clothing and constantly having to wait to use the machines, not to mention how dirty they were.

  “The Beachcomber has laundry facilities,” Cara said, slinging her pack over her shoulder. Mick had been quiet for most of the morning, making her work hard to achieve any kind of verbal exchange. The issue of their kiss still provoked a sense of unease. It hadn’t been discussed, hanging over their heads like an ax about to fall.

  “So … how about The Beachcomber?” She cleared her throat. “Are you all in?” Cara stifled her laughter, hoping her attempt at humor would catch.

  Mick’s face contorted, displaying an air she didn’t recognize. He shook his head, his gaze steady, his brows pulled together in thought. “Aren’t you funny. Come on,” he muttered, motioning her with a quick jerk of his head.

  Once given their keys and fresh towels, they made their way to the side of the building, their accommodations adjacent to the parking lot. Cara held a local newspaper grabbed from the ‘free’ pile near the office. It would be another hunt for jobs. It looked like there might be some opportunities due to rebuilding after the storm, but she wouldn’t know until they did some research.

  The Beachcomber was an older establishment but it
was evident the owners had been diligent in their upkeep. They passed by several rooms, the curtains closed. Mick stopped at room number eight, shoving the key in the lock. His gruff words glued her feet to the sidewalk.

  “Lay it on its side … it means infinity.” His mouth curled into a grin. His eyes flashed. Was this Mick’s tactic for seeking revenge for her earlier banter?

  “The number eight?” Cara said, phrasing her reply to the tone of a question. Her pulse jumped a notch. Why was she suddenly nervous again? Why was this happening? Her face burned. Her bashfulness was beginning to annoy her.

  Mick’s eyes glittered, holding every ray of the afternoon sunlight, his behavior a bit peculiar.

  “That’s right … the number eight. Lay it on its side, it means infinity,” he repeated as he turned the key in the lock.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “I’d like to go to that small market,” Cara told him, burying her wallet in her pants pocket.

  “I’ll take a walk with you,” Mick said, setting his shaving kit in the bathroom. He stuck his head out into the room. Cara’s hands twisted in front of her, her brow furrowed. Mick walked toward the dresser and set his wallet down, turning on a small lamp.

  Maybe she wants some time alone.

  “You know what … you go ahead. I’m going to look through this paper you got,” he told her, stretching out on the bed.

  Her face smoothed with relief.

  “You need anything?” Cara opened the door, turning in the threshold.

  “Surprise me,” he smiled back in an attempt to lighten her spirit. Since New Brunswick they’d both been up, then down, their moods shifting gears. Mick would work to try and balance them out. Cara shrugged, closing the door behind her.

  Mick got up and filled one of the small plastic cups with water. As he made his way back to the bed, Cara’s pack distracted him. Mick peered down, his eyes moving past the open zipper. Below were those two books. He swallowed, feeling his body react to the words he’d read and never forgotten.