by Ravenna Tate
Nothing existed except Jagger, his mouth, and his cock, pistoning inside her like a runaway jackhammer. Even the soreness within her pussy couldn’t compete with the pleasure racing through her body. She never wanted this to end.
When she came a second time, he released her mouth and cried out loudly. His thrusts became hard, jerky motions that went on for long, luscious moments. She loved it when he did that. He liked to squeeze out every last drop he could, so she contracted the walls of her pussy to help him along.
Finally he stopped, breathing hard, and held her close. He stroked her hair and damp back. “Oh my God, that was so fucking good. Now I love this plane even more.”
“And now you have to buy it because it smells like sex.”
“Best smell in the world.”
“I agree.” Snuggling closer to him was difficult because they barely had any room, but she tried anyway. Carolyn closed her eyes and almost fell asleep. She was that relaxed and happy. He was the one to prod her along to get dressed. Once she did, and he’d pulled his pants back up, she glanced around the plane. For reasons she couldn’t understand, she didn’t want to leave.
“We’ll come back again to visit it.”
“Sounds like you plan on having me around for a while.” She watched his face carefully. Had she said too much?
“Stay as long as you want.”
That she could do. Definitely.
Chapter Sixteen
The ride home was quiet, and that was Jagger’s fault. He didn’t say anything. He was grateful Carolyn didn’t try to talk him into playing another game. Not that he hadn’t enjoyed himself. Far from it. He’d enjoyed the tree game, and he’d loved being able to make her laugh so much. She was easy to be with, and she had fun doing simple things.
It was such a contrast with the way she fucked, and that intrigued him. He had brought along the condom on the off chance something might happen, but he hadn’t really expected to make love to her in his plane. That had been fun! Fucking fantastic fun.
Everything about her was fun, but could he trust her? The question of who was in the van bothered him now, where it hadn’t before she’d asked. But how the fuck was he supposed to find out who was in there, aside from walking up to it and knocking on the windows?
For all he knew, the damn thing was empty and someone had simply parked it there. Maybe he and Carolyn both were way too paranoid? Jagger didn’t like feeling this confused or off balance. He wasn’t used to it. He was the planner. The one who thought everything through twenty times, until he’d accounted for every possible contingency. Ever since he’d laid eyes on Carolyn in the police station, he’d been flying by the seat of his pants for the first time in his life.
A whiff of musky sex wafted past his nose as she leaned close to him. “Thank you again for showing me your plane.”
God, she’s pretty. And right now she looked so relaxed, like a woman who had just been fucked good and hard. There was nothing sexier. What the hell was going on in his head? “You’re welcome. Thank you for giving me yet another reason to buy it.”
This couldn’t be happening to him. Not to him. It wasn’t possible. Her face flushed slightly and she smiled, so he put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer to avoid gazing into her eyes for too long. He’d resisted becoming emotional over a woman all his adult life. They were lovely creatures, and he adored fucking them, but that’s where the attachment ended.
Not that he’d had a lot of women lately. A convicted felon doesn’t stand too much of a chance in the dating world, or even the casual sex world. Most of the women he seemed to attract during the past nine years weren’t the kind he wanted to hang out with, even in bed.
“You’re quiet again,” she said softly.
He leaned close to whisper in her ear, “That’s because someone wore me out again.”
That seemed to satisfy her need to talk. Jagger mentally laughed when he recalled believing that getting outside in the fresh air would help him put everything in perspective. All it had done was further confuse him, and the reason for his confusion was snuggled up next to him, smelling like sex.
It was time to face the obvious. He was falling for this girl. As impossible as that seemed, the answer was right in his face. Jagger wasn’t sure which realization surprised him more. The fact that he wasn’t upset by it, or the certainty that his life had just become more complicated than he was ready to handle.
Either way, he knew one thing. He had meant it when he’d told Carolyn she could stay as long as she wanted. He enjoyed having her around, and the sex was incredible.
But two things still nagged at him, and they had to be sorted out as quickly as possible. Why hadn’t Tony tried to call her again, and who the fuck was sitting in that van across the street?
****
Three days later, the van was still parked across the street, and Tim had still not called back with further direction or advice. Jagger had walked Carolyn to her apartment the previous evening so she could retrieve more of her clothes and other personal items. When he went upstairs with her and saw the place, he was tempted to hire a moving van immediately and get her the hell out of there.
“How much money did Tony give you to live on?” he asked.
“Why do you ask?” She gave him a sheepish grin. “Um, I guess you already figured out he didn’t leave it to me, because he’s not really dead.”
“Yeah. Got it. I’m asking because this place is a fucking dump. Can’t you afford something better?”
“Yes, but since I have no job, I’m trying to make the money last.”
A cockroach crawled across the floor in the corner, slipping behind the baseboard as Jagger watched. The steady thump of loud music was constant. Far away, but still present. He wondered if it went on through the night, every night.
One window in her bedroom was cracked and it was obvious she’d tried to fix it with duct tape, but he could smell the rotting garbage in the alley below, wafting up into the room. She was on the top floor, but the noises from the L and the traffic were so loud they might as well be outdoors.
“Are you safe living here?”
“As safe as I am anywhere, I suppose.”
“Carolyn, how can you stand it? I know you didn’t grow up like this.” He didn’t know it for certain, but if her parents had been able to afford to take her to the south of France for vacations, they’d certainly had money.
“No, I didn’t.”
“None of my business, but didn’t your parents leave you any money?”
“It’s gone.” She averted her gaze as she tossed clothes into her duffel bag.
“Gone where?”
“Gone to unknown persons after they died.”
To stop her packing, he placed a hand on her arm. “Explain.”
“I was only fifteen. I lost them both at the same time. I had no clue what to do, or who to turn to. Aunt Rosa took me in, but it was six weeks before we returned to the house to move my things into hers. By that time, Aunt Marie and Aunt Rosa told me they’d gone through my parents’ bank accounts and squared things up with the estate attorneys.”
“And?” Jagger didn’t like where this was going.
“And there was no money left. The house needed to be sold so my parents’ debts could be paid off.”
“Did you believe them?”
“I didn’t know what to believe or not believe, Jagger.” She threw up her hands in a gesture of helplessness and frustration. “They’re my family. I had no reason to think they’d lie to me. My parents lived the same lifestyle as the rest of my family. For all I know they had money squirreled away somewhere and no one knew about it, including me.”
“He was already in prison when your parents died. How did he give you money?”
“He gave me money before he was sent to prison, and then again once he was released.”
“Okay, but where did it come from?”
“I don’t know. I never asked.”
“Carolyn, i
t’s possible your aunts and uncle stole money from your parents’ estate that was meant to be yours.”
As her big green eyes filled with tears, he wished he’d kept his mouth shut. “Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think I haven’t wondered about it about a million times as I watch the fucking roaches crawl across my kitchen floor, and as I listen to that fucking hip-hop shit twenty-four seven?”
As he went to pull her close, she stepped away from him. “I’m thirty years old. I’m a convicted felon. I will never have a driver’s license again. I can’t vote ever again. I can’t find a fucking job at a goddamn greasy diner, even. The only money I have to live on is what I have saved, in a place where no one will ever find it. I can’t even have a relationship with a man who isn’t a fucking crack head, or who doesn’t expect me to rob fucking liquor stores with him.”
When she plopped down on her bed, Jagger stayed where he was. His entire being ached to hold her and tell her it would be all right, but he also sensed she needed space right now.
“I miss my parents so damn much. God, how I miss them! But at the same time, if they were here right now I’d fucking kill them all over again for exposing me to a life of crime from the time I could walk. I would trade all the jobs I ever pulled for one parent who, instead of teaching me how to shoplift, pushed me to do well in school and find a career I could love.”
The music changed to something with the bass turned up so loudly, the floor vibrated. Carolyn shook her head. “See what I mean? I’m living the dream here. I would trade all of Uncle Tony’s advice that still rattles around in my brain for the chance to do it over again. To live a straight life. To never see the inside of a fucking prison. And to not be afraid every damn time I walk down the street.”
As he moved toward her, thinking she was finished, she stood and clenched her hands into fists.
“Do you think because I’m so calm and accepting of everything that I’m not angry inside? That I don’t want to fucking scream at the universe for handing me this life? And then I remember that I had choices. Choices, Jagger. I could have said ‘no’. I could have walked away and gone to school instead. I could have shaped a different life for myself, but I didn’t do any of that. Why is that, do you think?”
It was obvious she’d been holding this in for a long time, so he stayed silent. He didn’t want to break the spell.
“Because I made a choice, Jagger. Same as you did. The first time I took something that didn’t belong to me, I made the conscious choice to do it. I can’t blame this existence on my parents, my uncle, my aunts, or anyone else. Only the person I see when I look in the mirror. And neither can you.”
“I don’t blame anyone else, Carolyn. I agree with you. We both made choices. But that still doesn’t make it right that your family stole money that was meant to be yours.”
“It’s probably money from items they stole in the first place, so who does it really belong to?”
“Did they have real jobs?”
“No.”
When he finally took a seat on the bed, he left some space between them. “Look, we could debate the moral issues here all night and never come away with an answer that makes sense. The question is, what do you want to do about it?”
“About what? The money? What the hell can I do?”
“Nothing, but I’m still sorry it happened to you. What I meant by my question was, what do you want to do about your life, right now? Because you can’t change the past. I’ve spent countless hours wishing I could go back, but not because I feel guilty over what I did. Even if I could go back, I’m not sure I’d make different choices.”
“I would.”
“All right. You know that about yourself, and that’s a good thing.”
“You wouldn’t do things differently if you could?” She gave him a curious glance.
“I doubt it, but I won’t apologize for who and what I am.”
“You’re not the same person now. You aren’t committing robberies anymore.”
“No, I’m not, but only because I’ve made the choice never to return to doing it.”
“I don’t want to either. One of the reasons I go into department stores so often is to reinforce that. Not only do I love to watch the customers and the sales clerks, but I make myself look at things I would have stolen in a heartbeat in the past.”
“What an ingenious idea.”
The blush that crept up her neck was endearing. “Thank you. It’s like implosion therapy. Do you know what that is? It’s when psychologists urge you to face your fears using visualization techniques. The idea is to develop coping mechanisms against things you fear the most, instead of allowing anxiety to dictate how you react.”
“Has it worked for you?”
“For the shoplifting, yes.” She smiled. “I’m now able to touch Prada bags. I can pick them up, put them back down, and walk away. A year ago, that never would have happened.”
“Isn’t it still tempting, though?”
“Of course it is. It’s like being addicted to drugs. Even when you’re clean, the desire never leaves you. But I do it to prove to myself I can. I do it because I also love to watch the customers, and imagine the lives they lead. The jobs they go to when they’re done shopping on their lunch breaks. But I wouldn’t shoplift again. Not ever. I would never risk it.”
“That’s a start, but what do you want your life to be like now, from this day forward?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Different than it is now, starting with a job. And I want to stop being afraid.” She drew in a sharp breath, as if she might cry again. Jagger scooted closer, and this time she let him put an arm around her. “I want a normal life.”
“What is normal, Carolyn?”
“Not my life.”
“Your life is normal to some people.”
“It’s easy for you to say that.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning you have a beautiful apartment and money.”
“The book was a bestseller. I got lucky.”
She gave him a droll look. “And all the rest of the money you have was just lying around, waiting for you to take it?”
What she’d said was quite funny, but he refrained from laughing because this was a serious talk. “No. I stole it. Correction. I stole the things that I sold to get that money.”
“And you feel no guilt over that?”
“None. And neither should you feel guilty for taking the pittance your dear uncle decided to bestow upon you.” Jagger waved his hand in a circle. “Especially when it buys you this palatial apartment to live in.”
“Now you just sound like a snob.”
“No, I’m pissed off. They likely owe you ten times whatever he gave you.”
“But it’s also likely money my parents gained from stolen items, like most of yours is. So once again, who is that money really owed to?”
There were no real answers. He felt her frustration, but he didn’t know how to soothe it for her. “I don’t know, but I do see your point. So instead, let’s concentrate on what you can change. What would that be? I’m talking about something that’s in your power to change. Forget the past. Focus on the present. What aspect of your life would you make different?”
“I told you. Pretty much everything, starting with this dump. It’s horrible. But to leave here I need a job.”
“So stop relying on your piece of shit PO and find one, Carolyn.”
“Who hires ex-cons?”
“Plenty of people. What else would you change?”
It was unsettling to have a woman look at him the way she did. He almost regretted asking. She seemed to be piercing his soul, searching for an answer.
“Answer a question first.”
“All right.” He might regret agreeing to do that.
“Why did you leave Lia’s Domain? You never told me.”
A sigh escaped Jagger’s throat before he could rein it in. “It’s complicated.”
“I’m an
intelligent woman. I can grasp complicated things.”
“I discovered I wanted to dominate, but I wasn’t a real Dom, if that makes sense.”
“Did they drum you out?”
“No, nothing that obvious. It was more of a process whereby I came to realize I enjoyed the bondage, the impact play, and the control, but I didn’t want a full time submissive. I also found that women in the lifestyle, at least the ones I met at that club, weren’t any different than the women I seemed to attract outside that environment.”
“You mean the ones ex-cons seem to attract.”
“Exactly. I had no better luck trying embrace a lifestyle I thought I wanted.”
“Jagger, I actually think that’s very responsible of you. I mean there were a lot of men and women there who called themselves Dominants, but they were really just abusive assholes. At least you realized it wasn’t for you and didn’t stick around, just to get your kicks off the control aspect.”
It was difficult not to be flattered by her words. “Well, thank you for that. But let’s get back to you. What else do you want for your life?”
“I think I might want to try an actual relationship for a change. One where we have more in common than having done time in the same county jail.”
“I’ve felt that same way too many times.”
“It’s so damn depressing.”
“Carolyn, all we have in common is a prison record, and the fact we both know your uncle.”
“Not true.”
“Okay. You’re right. We’re also great in bed.”
The corners of her mouth turned up. “That we are, but we have more in common than that.”
“Such as?” Why was he asking her to elaborate? Alarm bells went off inside Jagger’s head. Lots of them. And he ignored every single one. Sweat broke out along his hairline. What the fuck was he doing?
“We both want to fly, we can laugh at silly things like tree games, and we like our coffee strong.”
Everything he’d realized about his feelings for her the day he took her to see his plane were back, reflected in the emotion pouring from her. He heard his own thoughts in the tone of her voice and in her words. Why was he fighting this? What was he afraid of?
