His Scandalous Love
Page 11
Her cheeks burned. Her heart trembled. Could it be true? Was she playing ostrich again where they were concerned? She thought about that afternoon. How good it had felt to be held by him. The way he’d seen to her pleasure. He was acting like he was her Dom.
She swayed a bit on her feet and plopped down on the padded bench in the closet. “Oh, god. I’m an idiot.”
“You said it. I didn’t. And take it easy on yourself, what with Liam keeping you up at night, I’m sure your brain is foggy.”
“What do I do? Seduce him? Have him take me to his club?” Jenna said, flummoxed that it had taken Meghan holding up a mirror for her to see the truth.
“What club?” Meghan asked.
Not thinking, Jenna said, “He’s the founder of a BDSM club in Jackson. It’s how we met. That resort in the Bahamas caters to people in the lifestyle and I—”
Her sister gasped. “You mean like bondage and kinky sex stuff?”
Oh, crap. She winced, studying her sister’s reaction and said, “Yeah, I know, I’ve never said anything about it before. Are you upset? Do we need to talk about it?”
“About the birds and the bees, no. The bondage stuff? Hell yeah. Why didn’t you tell me you were into kink? Is it like handcuffs and whips, or is there more?”
Jenna tried to backpedal on the conversation. “Well, maybe I shouldn’t be telling you this stuff. Being a submissive is a choice. It’s not one that is for everyone.”
“Relax, I don’t think I’m submissive in the slightest. I don’t think I have the temperament for it. Granted, I’m not opposed to bedroom kink. So were you in handcuffs when Liam was conceived?”
“Possibly that,” Jenna said, “or perhaps some Velcro restraints. Could have been the hot tub too. Not sure.”
Meghan chortled, her visage awash with mirth. Jenna snickered in reply. And before she knew it, they were laughing so hard, she had tears streaming down her face. Meghan did likewise.
“What’s it like being a submissive? Do you wear a collar and leather panties all the time?”
Jenna wanted to clear up some of her sister’s perception, especially since she’d admitted she was not submissive material. It wasn’t that Jenna was ashamed of being submissive but she was protective of Meghan and wanted her to have a clearer picture. She said, “It’s not like that. A woman—or man, for that matter—does it because they like to please their partner. It’s not being weak or abdicating responsibility. It’s more the ultimate measure of trust one could place in a partner to accept whatever may happen without question, and it’s a freedom unlike anything I’ve ever known. Submission is a choice and for me, personally, as I’ve always had to be in charge of everything else, I like knowing my needs will be taken care of without question.”
“Huh. I might have to try it sometime.” Meghan shrugged, but there was an interested gleam in her eyes.
“It’s not for everyone. You don’t think less of me because of it?”
Meghan shook her head and grinned. “No. I’m relieved, actually. I didn’t think you had it in you, being as tightly wound as you are. So does Carter dress up in, like, leather pants and stuff?”
“Not him, no. He’s definitely a Levi’s man, but he sure as hell knows how to wear them.” Jenna sighed. And that was part of the problem too. He looked the same—hell, he looked better than he had on the island. Whereas she had stretch marks, her stomach was no longer flat, and her butt was bigger, as were her boobs. Granted, he’d always enjoyed her cleavage, but she still felt frumpy and unattractive. On all the mommy blogs she followed, she was told it was a normal occurrence. And with that Liam woke up, most likely hungry.
“I can dig the Levi’s. That’s kind of a given in this area when it comes to available bed partners,” Meghan replied, following her out of the closet.
Jenna picked Liam up from his tiny bed and sat with him in the sitting area to nurse. “Do you like it here?” She asked her sister the same question Carter had hours before.
“Nope,” Meghan replied, and Jenna’s heart sank. Then her sister said, “I freaking love it here. I know we’re Florida girls at heart, you more so than I, but this place feels like home. I like my job, the people are nice here, and I’m looking forward to my internship starting at the institute next month. Truly, I think this place is great. I might not love it in the dead of winter, but we’ll cross that bridge. And Dad would be thrilled to know that his girls were enjoying life for a change.”
Some of the guilt Jenna had been carrying evaporated. She had been worried that Meghan had undertaken this move, applied for and taken the internship purely for Jenna’s sake so she could help her with Liam and everything.
“Yeah, you’re right. What do you think he would have thought of Carter?” Jenna asked, switching Liam from one boob to the other.
“Dad? Knowing him, he would have considered Carter the son he never had. So, are you going to stop sitting on the fence and do something, like jump the man’s bones?”
“I’m thinking about it,” Jenna said pensively. It was a huge step. Regardless that her heart already belonged to Carter—it had since the island—it wasn’t just the two of them to consider anymore. Her decisions, and his, would impact their son’s life, whether they admitted it or not, and she was being careful.
Meghan rolled her eyes and replied, “You’re overthinking things, as usual.”
Most likely. But it was what Jenna did. She’d probably overthink attending an overthinkers anonymous self-help group.
“Can you stay for dinner? I’m sure Dottie is probably whipping up something fabulous. And she always cooks more than enough.” Jenna had enjoyed having Meghan here this afternoon and wanted to keep her as a buffer while she made her decision.
“Can’t tonight. Maybe Tuesday after your online class, and I can finish watching the little dude for you.”
Crestfallen, Jenna replied, “Okay, just don’t be a stranger.”
“I won’t. What the hell is that?” Meghan asked as a rumble of loud motors pulled up to the house. The noise permeated the stillness. They raced over to the nearby window. Six trucks of various shapes and sizes had pulled into the driveway. In the fading light, men climbed down from their truck cabs.
“Crap. I think they blocked me in,” Meghan said with a groan.
“I think you’re right. Give me just a minute and we can head down,” Jenna said, since she had finished feeding Liam and was just as curious as her sister about the men’s arrival. Carter hadn’t said that they were going to have visitors this evening. “Let me change his pants and burp him.”
“All right. Can you burp him on the way down? I don’t want whoever is blocking me in to get too comfortable,” Meghan said.
“What’s your hurry?”
“Hot date. Really cute mountain climber staying at the resort this week. And yes, I will be careful,” Meghan replied.
“Okay, fine. Just promise me you will stay for dinner on Tuesday,” Jenna added.
“Deal,” Meghan said as they left her room and headed down the main stairwell. They gravitated toward the sound of multiple masculine voices speaking in the kitchen.
“What the hell, dude? You haven’t been to Cuffs in ages.”
“Look, there are things—” Jenna recognized Carter’s voice in the mix.
“Cut the bullshit. You bailed Friday, and have been ignoring my texts ever since.”
“What we need to know is why?” said another.
Jenna and Meghan entered the kitchen, which was laden with an overabundance of testosterone. At their entrance, seven pairs of male eyes glanced at them and stared. Jenna wasn’t certain who was more surprised by their entry, the group of devilishly attractive cowboys, or Carter. Did he really think she would sit back and not investigate the cowboy invasion?
“All right, which one of you cowboys is blocking me in?” Meghan queried, setting her hands on her hips that were cocked at what could only be termed a jaunty angle. Her sister never had a problem interjecting hers
elf into the fray. There were times when Jenna had no idea how they had both been spawned by the same parents, considering their differences. Jenna noticed the way the men’s gazes roved over Meghan. And the way they snapped to attention at her question.
Then it hit her: these weren’t just cowboys. Every man in here was a Dom. And her kid sister had just tossed down a gauntlet challenge. Oy! Tonight might be her night for that glass of wine.
“If you’re the owner of the little red hatchback that’s really more of a go-cart than an actual vehicle, I am,” one of the cowboys said, taking an intimidating step forward. He was tall, not a giant like Carter, but still a good six feet or more. His jeans were molded to his thickly hewn legs. His black tee was stretched taut across acres of rock hard muscle, displaying the lines and indents of each one. Tribal tattoos scored each of his triceps and they disappeared beneath his shirt sleeves. But it was the man’s face that was the true dichotomy. If it weren’t for the faint, thin, white jagged scar that ran from his left temple down to his jaw, he would have been pretty—like, Hollywood actor pretty. But that scar and the few days’ growth of black stubble made him look like he was not a man to be trifled with.
Meghan didn’t seem to care, and wasn’t intimidated in the slightest by him. “That go-cart can go from zero to sixty in six seconds, has a twin turbo engine, and was tricked out by professional street racers with a three hundred-fifty horsepower engine. Not to mention, it’s much more ecologically friendly than the gas guzzlers I watched pull into the drive.”
“Save us all… a tree hugger,” the man responded.
Meghan rolled her eyes. “You have something against wanting to save the planet?”
Carter thankfully decided to intervene, since it looked like her sister was about to go nuclear, and Jenna was fairly certain it wouldn’t end well with the Doms. Meghan, bless her heart, had no idea what testing a Dom could lead to. Carter stepped between Meghan and her adversary, safeguarding everyone from any bloodshed, then said, “Guys, this is Jenna,” he gestured to her, “and her sister, Meghan. She’s working at The Alpine Science Institute.”
“Jenna, Meghan, these knuckleheads are Spencer, Cole, Mason, Garrett, Alexander and Jackson.” Jenna put their names with their faces. Meghan’s verbal sparring partner was Spencer. Beside him was Cole, who made her think of mountain men and log cabins with his long brown hair that went past his shoulders. His beard, while trimmed and neat, was full. At least he tipped his hat their way. Next to Cole was Mason, and they had similar facial features, although Mason’s face was shaved baby smooth. His hair was lighter, more of a golden walnut.
“And the kid?” the man Carter had called Garrett said. He wore a plaid white and black button down dress shirt, even in this oppressive heat. Both his dark brown hair and beard had hints of red but it was his eyes, the sharp bright green that reminded her of images of fields in Ireland, that really stood out.
Liam took that moment to make his presence felt and squirmed in her arms, almost like he knew all the attention in the room had been directed his way at Garrett’s question. Carter strode over to her then and plucked Liam from her arms. The minute he spied his father, he cooed at him and grinned.
“And this is Liam, my son,” Carter said, turning Liam in his arms for the group to see him.
This was one of those pin drop moments. The six cowboys looked at Carter as if he’d grown a set of antlers. One of the men—Jenna thought Carter had said his name was Alexander—he of the ginger hair and amber eyes, his mouth had dropped open.
Jenna didn’t know how to proceed here. These were obviously Carter’s friends. He’d been so generous, she didn’t want to step on any toes.
“Wow, who knew an infant could turn cowboys mute? Spencer, how about we mosey outside so I can get out of here?” Meghan quipped, her voice dripping disdain.
“What’s the rush? Hot date?” Spencer jibed. And it was clear to Jenna, although Meghan seemed not to pick up on the social cue, that she had derided the Dom in the wrong way and he was going to be a mule about it.
“Actually, now that you mention it, yes. And I’d really like to not be late.” She gestured toward the door. Then she shot a glance at Jenna. “See you Tuesday.”
She stopped by Carter and gave Liam a quick buss on the check. “See you Tuesday, little dude.” Liam grinned and laughed at Meghan. She was one of his favorite people. “Carter, good to see you.” Then her sister headed toward the back door.
“Are you always this bossy?” Spencer asked as he walked with Meghan.
“Are you always a stick in the mud?” Meghan asked with exasperation.
“I’m surprised someone hasn’t gagged you before now,” Spencer grumbled as he opened the door.
Meghan sailed through it, stopping under the frame and patting Spencer on the chest. “Many have tried, big guy, and all have failed.” Then she went out.
Spencer shot Carter a look that made Jenna groan internally. Those two would end up coming to blows. She could see it, clear as day. She just hoped it wasn’t tonight and that they wouldn’t kill one another.
Jenna decided to cut the silence, ease the tension a little, and said, “So, are they all here for dinner?”
“It’s our monthly poker night. Sorry, I forgot to tell you. We’ll just end up ordering a bunch of pizzas. And we’ve got plenty of chips and beer. Don’t worry about us,” Carter informed her.
“I could make dinner, so you don’t have to order in. I’d just need you to keep Liam occupied for a bit. He’s fed and has a clean diaper—for now, anyway,” Jenna offered. This was something constructive she could do, as a thank you to Carter for all he had done for them. While she didn’t have the mad skills that Dottie did in the kitchen, she could hold her own.
“You don’t have to go to the trouble,” Carter said with a shake of his head.
“It’s no bother. Really, let me do this for you, Sir,” Jenna said softly, aware of their audience, and she lowered her gaze out of respect. And as an apology for her sister’s behavior.
“All right, appreciate it. We’ll be down in the game room. Just come get us when it’s ready,” Carter said. He put Liam in his carrier seat, pocketed a binky, and then led the crew—minus Spencer, who was still outside moving his truck—to the game room in the basement.
Jenna trudged into the kitchen and began pulling items out of the fridge. Everyone loved tacos so that was what she decided on. They were all big men, so she opted for a triple batch. They would also make great leftovers—if there were any. Her taco recipe had been her Puerto Rican grandmother’s, and people tended to help themselves to extras.
Spencer slammed back inside just as Jenna had tossed ground beef into a pan to brown—a clear indication that he and her sister had likely had more words in the driveway.
“It’s Spencer, right? Sorry about my sister, she can be a little forthright and she’s not in the lifestyle, so please don’t take what she said personally,” Jenna murmured, stirring the sizzling meat in the pan.
Spencer stopped at the kitchen island, his black eyes assessing her, and then said, “You’re the sub from Pleasure Island, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” Jenna replied. There was no point in denying it, but it rocked her world that he knew about her. It meant Carter had talked about her with his friends. That bit of news shifted her perception and some of the hesitation she felt melted away. They’d both bumbled things, hadn’t they?
“You planning on staying?” Spencer said, his gaze judging her like she was under a microscope. And, well, could she blame him? She’d be suspicious too.
“In Jackson, yes.” The rest had to be worked out between her and Carter first before she could give him more of an answer.
“That’s good enough for now. Nice to meet you finally, Jenna. Congratulations on the boy,” Spencer said, tipping his hat, and walked out of the kitchen, seeming to know precisely where he was headed.
Jenna wished she had an idea herself. Clarity of direction had not p
resented itself. Had she received a few nudges today? Certainly. But her course was still littered with fog and debris.
Did she want Carter still?
God, yes. With every fiber of her being. Carter had been nothing but gracious and hospitable. And he had not hidden how much he wanted her. So what was holding her back? What exactly was she waiting for? She wished she knew the answer to that.
She loved him. That had to count for something, right?
Chapter 11
Carter felt the weight of his friends’ stares as they entered the game room. He’d had a custom poker table crafted years ago. Most of these guys he’d known since high school, a few from primary school even. Poker had always been something they did to pass the time. They would sit around a table, play cards, talk the rodeo circuit—or any sport, really—drink a few beers and discuss the club if needed. It was at one of their poker nights a decade past that he’d proposed starting Cuffs & Spurs.
At the table, he put Liam’s carrier by his seat and lifted him out. The guys were studying Carter a little like he had an alien in his hands. Well, some of them, anyway. Liam appeared entranced by his friends. Which made sense, considering the first ten weeks he’d mainly been with Jenna and her sister.
“Dude, seriously? When, how did this happen?” Alexander asked, not feigning his surprise.
Jackson and Mason carried over a bottle of Jameson and glasses for everyone. Jackson said, “I see your Dom training is lacking somewhat if you don’t have any idea how babies are conceived, Alex.”
“Hardy har har, dipshit. You know what I meant,” Alexander replied gesturing to Liam.
“I say congratulations are in order,” Cole said with a tip of his hat.
“Exactly,” Mason said, pouring a dram of Irish whiskey for each one of them, then handing a glass to every member of their crew. Spencer waltzed in then with a self-righteous air and fury burning in his gaze. It made Carter wonder what barbs Meghan had tossed his way. Mason handed him a glass of whiskey.