Eostre's Baskets: Stacking the Deck

by Selena Illyria

  He let out a soft groan as her vaginal muscles clenched around the tip of his dick before she lowered herself farther, taking more of him inside her. She placed a hand on his shoulder and continued to torture them both. Her nails dug deep as she squeezed her inner muscles. Slowly she rode him, dragging out each movement of her body. Carrie brought her head down until their mouths were mere millimeters apart. Her breath caressed his overheated, throbbing lips. She closed the distance between then and took his mouth as she took him inside her completely. The sensitive tissue rippled around his cock, stimulating his nerve endings. His groan was swallowed by her mouth as she continued to kiss him. She became his air, his life force, his source of pleasure and pain.

  Carrie rode him with slow strokes. He reached down and gripped her hips, trying to guide her actions. She bit his lip, tugged, and released. He hissed at her, and smoke billowed up between them. Her eyes filled with white dots, like stars in the dark sky. “Mine,” she growled as her pace ticked up.

  Their kiss turned into a battle for control.

  “Mine,” he answered.

  He thrust upward to meet her downstroke. She rode him harder; her nipples rasped his chest, setting off sparkles of pleasure that shot straight to his cock. He pounded into her pussy. He disengaged one hand from her hip and slipped it between them to work her clit.

  “Dean!” With a cry she pulled away. Her pussy contracted around him as her limbs stiffened. He fucked her through her climax until his balls hardened and the semen rose up along his cock. His cock thickened and jerked as he came, spurting his seed deep inside her.

  He placed kisses all over her face and wiped away the tears that had slipped from her eyes. “So beautiful, my mate, my love. Amore mio.”

  “Welcome home.” A soft, sleepy smile on her face.

  He rested his head on her shoulder. “Good to be home.”

  Chapter Two

  Two Days Until Easter

  Carrie cradled the coffee mug as she watched Dean move around the room, making a breakfast of hash browns, bacon, and toast. Despite her elation at having him home, safe and sound, she couldn’t push away the feelings of guilt and disappointment in herself and in Dean. She’d tried to stay up and wait for him so they could talk. Not even three shots of espresso and a large dollop of whipped cream with her latte could keep her awake. Then she heard and smelled him, and her brain took a vacation and her body just went on autopilot. All she knew was her mate was home safe and sound, and she needed to be with him in the most primal way possible. Tears formed in her eyes as she tightened her grip on the ceramic cup. Damn it, how the hell am I supposed to bring up my issues after we’ve had sex? She watched him move around the kitchen as if he hadn’t spent the last two months icing her out.

  As mad as she’d been at him, the moment he was home, all her cares had fallen away in the need to be with him, to see that he was real. The job had been a dangerous one. A rogue werewolf wasn’t a sweet puppy. It was a mindless beast with no pack to keep it in check. Dean had gone after it with very little backup. Every day she didn’t hear from him had been torture. Any phone call or e-mail she did get gave only scarce details, which increased her anxiety. When Dean walked through that door, all she’d been able to think was he was home and safe. Sex had been a way to not only reconnect with him on a physical level but check in to see if there had been any damage. As far as she’d seen, only bruises and cuts, nothing unusual. Thank the Goddess.

  Now that that was taken care of, she was back at square one with him. She didn’t even have the solace of cooking to keep her mind busy and to work out her current problems.

  She had to find a way to talk about their issues. The need to voice her thoughts clogged her throat. She needed to get it out before she choked up and tamped it down in favor of keeping what they had. Just do it, she ordered herself.

  Carrie cleared her throat and focused on the worry and pain of waiting two months for him to come home, the loneliness and the hurt of his terse phone calls giving her the most basic of updates.

  “What’s up, amore mio? I can smell your tension and discomfort. What’s wrong?” He turned around to look at her, gaze guarded, features emotionless, careful.

  Relief swept through her at him broaching the subject rather than her having to. “We need to discuss this trip and our newly mated status.”

  “Go on.” His tone was neutral.

  “You were very distant with me while on this job. In fact, this isn’t the first time you’ve done this to me. I may be your office manager and contact for home base, but I’m also your mate.” She let that statement hang in the air between them, waiting for him to react. The atmosphere turned heavy. The silence stretched out like a rubber band, only to be disturbed by the pop and sizzle of bacon or soft padding of his bare feet on the bamboo flooring. As the quiet continued, she watched him turn and move from stove to counter to sink and back again. She savored the sight of his muscles moving under all that velvety, tanned skin. Even in winter he looked as if he sunbathed daily. The dragon tattoo on his back stretched from his right wrist; the tail wrapped around most of his arm to claw its way across his shoulders spewing fire down his left arm. The black and gray scales shimmered in the midmorning sunlight. Almost as if the beast were alive and ready to fly off his skin and settle down in miniature before her. The golden eyes seemed to glimmer, winking at her. She had yet to see him fully shift but had witnessed him as half man/half dragon.

  She shook her head and refocused on why she was here, or rather why she was trying to keep her distance despite her fingertips tingling with the need to touch all that exposed flesh. She opened her mouth to push ahead, had to get the words out so they could be done with this conversation and she could go to her room, think, and maybe do some job searching. Mate or not, she couldn’t stay here with him acting warm and welcoming one minute and then cold and aloof on the job the next.

  “Hungry?” He turned around and held up a plate.

  Her stomach answered his question.

  His soft, smoky laugh danced up and down her spine, setting off goose bumps.

  “You still you haven’t answered me. Are you even going to acknowledge my issues?” Carrie demanded. As much as she wanted food, she wanted him to open up to her more.

  She couldn’t want him and be pissed at him and have this conversation. To focus she took a sip of coffee and squeezed her thighs tight as her clit hardened and her pussy filled with liquid need.

  “That eager for an answer?”

  “Yes.” Her nipples stiffened as her stomach fluttered. She cursed her body for not getting with the program. Not aroused, stupid. Angry. She thought back to the terse conversation in which he’d ordered her to be in his bed when he got home. A spark of irritation lit up in her tummy. She latched on to the sentiment and fanned the flames with other instances of his distance.

  She gritted her teeth. “Answer me, damn it!”

  A dark chuckle rolled around. Her slit became damp and ready for another round. Even if she was sore from his lovemaking last night, she wanted to feel him inside her again, sliding to the hilt and building the fire slow and deep. She shook her head, loosening those thoughts and breathing more anger into the flame. Carrie wasn’t sure what was so damn funny, but she couldn’t let him get away with this. “What the hell, dragon? Are you using your powers to distract me?” Acid churned in her stomach.

  “Problem?” The rich, wicked tenor of his voice felt like fingers tracing along her spine to delve between her pussy lips. She squirmed on her stool and clenched her jaw and held the mug tighter at his dirty tricks.

  “No. Now answer me,” she managed to get out through clenched teeth. She shoved back at the arousal he was trying to instigate.

  “You sure?” He purred.

  He seemed closer than just a few feet away. She jumped and looked around. Nope; he hadn’t used his paranormal abilities to move to her side. “Stop using projection. Show me some respect and look at me. Or do you not consider me an
equal at all?”

  He turned; the glint in his eye told her everything she needed to know. Despite the fire in his gaze, his features were firm; his emotions were clamped down. Disappointment filled her.

  “Playing dirty, dragon? Do you really need those tricks to distract me?” It saddened her that he couldn’t even give her the respect she deserved. Her heart hurt at the thought that he didn’t think of her as an equal.

  “Maybe.” He plated a dish of bacon, hash browns, and toast and served it to her. He poured more coffee into her large mug and gave her a glass of orange juice.

  “Why?” She focused on the food and not him. If she looked up at him, she might throw something, and she was tempted to use her mug for that. Rather than waste perfectly good coffee, she ate.

  “Maybe I don’t want to talk about it.” His tone was neutral once again. No amusement, no hint of arousal.

  She hated that dragons could just turn off their emotions so easily. “Damn you. Could you just show me a modicum of feeling? Anything?”

  “Why is it so important to you?”

  “Because it is.” Flashes of memory burst in her mind like the blinking light on a camera timer. She could see the sadness on her parents’ faces as they stood before an empty lot of forest. Her heart ached; her eyes burned with unshed tears. She blinked them away before they could fall and focused on her bacon.

  “I can’t tell you anything if you don’t share with me.” His tone was light but weighted with something akin to annoyance.

  He was irritated with her? Hell no! She pushed away the plate and lifted her gaze to his face.

  “It’s important to me because I’m your mate. We’re mated. I’m not a mind reader. How can I help you while you’re on the job when I don’t know what’s going on with you? I want you to be open with me even on the job. Two months of distance made me feel like I’m talking to a stranger.” She waited for him to explode, to growl or snap or agree with her.

  He didn’t do anything like that.

  “Eat.” The words seemed to take a different context combined with his seductive tone. She didn’t doubt he’d done it on purpose.

  She stifled a scream of frustration. “For fuck’s sake, are you going to say something? Do you even take me seriously?”

  “Of course I do, amore mio. I’m here now with you. When I’m on the job, I’m the job. When I’m here with you, I’m your mate. That’s how I feel.” He put together a plate of food.

  “Oh, of course you pull out that line. Damn dragons,” she muttered as tears welled in her eyes. Frustration and anger doused any arousal he had incited. “You know what, forget it. Just go. Clearly my feelings aren’t important to you.”

  “Amore—”

  “Don’t call me that. Do you even know what love means? Go, Dean, just…” She couldn’t even look at him, couldn’t finish that sentence. Any thought of making him understand how she felt or why she was so frustrated with him went out the window. How could she explain needing a connection with the person she loved when he shut her out at every turn?

  Dean didn’t contest or even try to put up a fight. He left the room, confusion on his face.

  Tears streaked down her face unchecked. Carrie sniffled and wiped them away. Her heart hurt as her head began to throb. As much as she hated to think it, it seemed like she would have to start looking for a new job. Mate or not, she had to leave. She doubted that Dean could convince her to stay, not when he blocked off his emotions so much. Was a dragon even capable of feeling something beyond sexual desire? Was he, the man, able to connect on an emotional level with anyone?

  * * * *

  Dean sat at his computer station in the office he shared with Carrie. The other guest rooms/offices for the hunters they took in were empty, and the house had no guests crashing in their guest rooms. He could feel the remnants of her desire for another round swirling in his gut along with the sour taste of disappointment. Pain pulsed in his chest like an open wound. He couldn’t understand why she wanted to know about his need for distance when on a job. Nor did he want to open up the past just to satisfy her. They might be mates, but there were some things he couldn’t share with her. Didn’t know how to even begin to talk about what had happened to him. His dragon rolled around his head as old memories tried to surface. Thinking about Dalton wouldn’t bring him back.

  He leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. As he tried to push past the rising cloud of the past, he felt the heaviness of Carrie’s emotions swirling in his chest. Her sadness weighed down his body and his heart like a piece of granite. Her needs, her desires, her feelings filled his head until they merged with his, but none of that could tell him why it was so important to her that he explain himself. None of her emotions showed him a direction to go in. The most prominent emotion that he felt was loneliness. It settled on his skin like a coat of dust. The sensation caused his flesh to itch and crawl. His dragon growled. His scales rose up and rippled to push away the feeling that wasn’t theirs.

  Rather than shift and distance himself from her presence in his soul completely, he closed his eyes and tried to find himself. It was the only way he could work through this and figure out how to please his mate. Or distract her until he could understand how what he felt on a job was important. He focused the stillness that was his dragon. Nothing could touch them. After so many years of being alone, of not trusting people, of being unable to let anyone get too close after Dalton, he had finally found his mate. But she clouded his thinking when he was away from her. He worried if she was eating properly, if she was safe, if she’d remembered to turn on the alarm or lock the doors. She wasn’t a forgetful woman, but he wanted her secure. He found his protected place, that ice citadel that kept everything out. He entered the cold terrain that not even dragon’s fire could breach. Once the stillness settled over his shoulders, he could think, but underneath all the ice, he could feel the pulse of her pain.

  He drew in a deep breath and blew it out. I’ll make that hurt go away. Just have to get you calm first. He knew the perfect way to distract her from her personal discomfort. They needed to reconnect on more than just a physical level before dealing with the emotional quagmire that seemed to be brewing within her.

  He opened up his e-mail and began to click through, clearing spam before he clicked on his inbox. He glanced over job offers and new hunting tips from friends. He clicked on a subject line from his friend and fellow bounty hunter, Jesse, whom he’d seen on his hunt for the rogue werewolf.

  “I remember you saying you wanted something special for Carrie for Easter. Got this site from a friend of a friend who used it. Highly recommended. Sundae’s Adult Easter Baskets. Have fun if you know what I mean. Lucky bastard.

  Look me up the next time you’re in Detroit. Will hook you up with some new flamethrowers that I’m working on.”

  The link was embedded in the name of the business. He clicked on it and was brought to a simple site with a few questions. He took each one into account and answered to the best of his knowledge. He only hoped that whatever they got would help them. This was a start. Dean wanted to show Carrie in some way he was on her side. He might not be able to go into all the shit that he kept inside, but pleasing her in bed…that he understood and knew.

  Once he was finished with his order, he filled in his delivery details, then paid. Determination filled him. He was going to keep her here and bind her to him. He had already given her the mating bite of his kind. She wanted something more. Something she hadn’t told him. He’d play dirty to get her to open up to him. Then maybe they would make some progress.

  He logged out of his e-mail and shut down the computer. There were other things he had to get done for her too. He had hidden the chocolates he’d picked up for her in Georgia and the necklace he’d gotten from a jeweler in New York. The only thing left for him to do was get flowers. He grabbed his coat and checked in on her. Through their connection he could feel bits of her pain. Hopefully what he had planned would dull some of tha
t so he could talk to her, figure out a way to explain why he couldn’t let down his guard with her while on a job.

  He found her in the kitchen, prepping a chicken for cooking. The windows were fogged from the pot she had boiling on the stove and from the heat of the oven. Her hair was in a loose topknot, but curling tendrils framed her face.

  She didn’t even turn toward him. “Hungry?”

  That single world held no meaning, no intonation. It was just a question, automatically asked with no hope of an answer that mattered.

  “Nope, just checking in on you. Want help? I was going to go out but—”

  She cut him off. “No.” She wiped some sweat off her brow but didn’t look at him.

  “Okay.” He walked over and kissed her on the cheek. “Later.”

  She hadn’t even lifted her cheek to him or looked at him. Now who’s being frosted out? his dragon asked. Dean ignored the creature.

  “Dinner is at seven,” she called after him.

  “Okay, amore mio.” He left the house. A yawning emptiness filled him. The part of him that had made a place for her felt dark and vacant. She was pulling away from him. Some of the webbing that kept them together was frayed to the breaking point. He refused to let that go, let what they had just break or snap apart. He’d finally found someone after Dalton that he cared about. Anger flared hot and painful in his heart; he wasn’t going to leave her without a fight. He didn’t want to be driving right now. Instead, he decided to walk. Space and an hour away would give him time to think. His plan had holes in it if she didn’t want to go through with it.

  His footsteps ate up the distance as his mind tried to focus on the here and now. How to keep her close, rebind her to him. We are mates, damn it. His teeth clenched at the thought. It shouldn’t be like this and yet it was. How could keeping distance on missions and jobs tear them apart? How could keeping his emotions separate tear her away from him? Was this normal? He didn’t know. There was no one like him to ask. There were several different types of dragons. Unfortunately most dragons avoided him like the plague because of his black dragon identity. His kind was thought to bring chaos, bad luck, and terror, not peace. No one wanted that kind of karma in their lives. The older ones didn’t really care, but that didn’t mean they would give him the time of day.