Eostre's Baskets: Stacking the Deck

by Selena Illyria

  She wasn’t sure how to bring it up to him, but she knew she couldn’t leave him until she’d exhausted all avenues to get through to him and make him see her position. This had to work. It wasn’t just that they were mates or that she loved him, but that he deserved to know she wouldn’t leave him. Hunters weren’t attached to many people. Hunters had loved ones, but those they loved always ended up in the line of fire or the reason the hunters started going after the paranormal. Not all hunters were human; some, like Dean, went after their own kind. What they did was dangerous, and with nothing binding them to living, they could go off and die and be fine with it. When she’d met Dean, he’d been like that. He needed to know that she was here for him and always would be.

  She grabbed the soap and a washcloth and scrubbed herself clean; she shampooed and conditioned her hair before turning off the water and stepping out of the stall. She picked up her towel and dried off and wrapped her hair. Carrie decided to make Dean’s favorite lunch of steak, mashed potatoes, and gravy, with a side of a spicy cauliflower-broccoli mix. That could be a start. For dessert, a strawberry cake with vanilla crème filling.

  She put on a robe before she dried and straightened her hair, then got dressed in jeans, heels, and a T-shirt. By the time she was done, it was midmorning. She had to do some cooking and check on the e-mails from the hunters. Constant contact was a requirement to make sure that the hunters were all right and that if they needed backup, she could arrange it. Dean didn’t exactly follow that rule. He would only call in or e-mail if and when he had info or needed something. Other than that, radio silence on his end.

  She tiptoed to Dean’s room and pressed her ear to the door. No sound penetrated the thick wood. She would’ve opened the door but decided not to. It would be presumptuous of her to think he’d leave it unlocked, not after the words he’d uttered last night. He needed some space and so did she. She was still angry at his words. Confronting him now would only start a new argument.

  She headed downstairs to her office and started her computer before she went into the kitchen to get out the steaks, potatoes, broccoli, and cauliflower, as well as the spices and herbs she’d used for flavor. Just having everything out and ready for prep sent a wave of calm through her. Her mind cleared, and she could think.

  She started with the steaks and let her thoughts go. For the first time she wished that she could talk to someone about her problem, but to talk to someone about her issues with Dean would be a betrayal of their relationship. Hunters didn’t welcome outside interference, which is what therapists were to them. Besides that, there were very few therapists who handled the paranormal. Dean wouldn’t appreciate their problems being broadcast to people he didn’t know or interact with. But if he was willing after this and there was a person close-by, she’d call in a therapist who dealt with the paranormal.

  This was a great time for venting, not so great for her connection with Dean. As she chopped up vegetables, seasoned the steaks, and boiled the potatoes, she could breathe and see her actions through a lens. She had thought about what she was going to say, she allowed her emotions to outweigh his reaction. She knew him, knew how he took bad news. Dean wasn’t a delicate case, but he did need to be approached with a clear, concise plan. Being honest and making sure that her bases were covered for any questions that would come up was a must. He liked to have all the information laid out to him so he could weigh his options. Leave anything out, not tell him the whole story, and he was left to fill in the blanks. She needed a way to tell him her side without getting nervous or flustered or emotional.

  The doorbell rang just as she slid the steaks into the fridge. She wiped her hands on a towel and went to answer the door. She glanced at the microwave clock: eleven thirty. “Damn, Donna is early.”

  Donna stood there in her navy-blue mailperson uniform and with her ever present bright smile. She held out a tablet and a stylus for Carrie to use. “Morning, Carrie. I have a package for you. You have to sign for it. Gotta say, I’m jealous. I would love to have a basket from them.”

  There was a large brown box at Donna’s feet. Carrie knew she hadn’t ordered anything, and as for baskets, she didn’t know what Donna was talking about. One of the hunters must have ordered something.

  “Um, okay.” She signed and handed the tablet and stylus back to Donna before she picked up the box and brought it into the house. The package had heft to it, but was light enough that she wouldn’t strain herself too badly.

  Donna handed her their mail. It looked to be a lot of sale circulars and bills.

  “You have a great day and enjoy the basket.” Envy flitted across Donna’s face along with an impish smile before she turned and walked away.

  Curious, Carrie picked up the box again. She looked at the tracking slip. It was addressed to Dean. The return address gave a PO box. What was he up to? He must have ordered it before their fight or before he got back. She couldn’t deny that he’d been trying little things: the brownies, giving her credit for their home here, and this, whatever it was.

  She carried the box upstairs and knocked on his door. Nothing. Not even a mumble. She placed the box before the door and headed back downstairs. She finished the lunch prep and went into her office. The screensaver of blooming flowers scrolled across the screen. She shook the mouse and logged in to her account. After paying the bills and checking e-mail, her curiosity prickled, and she wanted to do a search on Sundae’s Easter Baskets. A glance at the clock told her that she needed to haul ass and get lunch done before he woke up or came downstairs. She wasn’t going to let him shut her out. They needed to communicate to make this right again.

  * * * *

  Dean opened his eyes, woke up, and groaned. He opened first one eye and then the other. Midday light streamed through the windows. His body ached in places he didn’t want to think about. He’d done a lot of yoga asanas before he went to bed, to clean and calm his mind and push away his emotions. His muscles felt drawn, but overall he felt fine. His dragon side had allowed him to sleep like the dead.

  He pushed away the covers, sat up, threw his legs over the side of the bed, and stood. He winced as he stretched his arms over his head when the kinks and pings made their presence known. He brought his arms down, and he detected the faint whiff of Carrie’s perfume. She hadn’t entered. Part of him was sad that she hadn’t even tried to come in and talk to him. He shook his head and went to the bathroom for a quick shower. He had fallen into bed once he’d been tired out, not bothering to clean up.

  His skin felt itchy, and the musk of sweat hung in the air. He started the shower and went back into his room, where he opened the windows to allow the cool spring air to drift in and clear out the stale atmosphere. For a moment he drew in the sweet floral scent. Today he would try again with Carrie, using a new plan. Brownies hadn’t worked so maybe confronting her directly would. He wasn’t going to let this relationship fall apart. Carrie wasn’t just his mate; she brought a light and safety to his life. He could be around her, and the threat of the outside world fell away. Whenever he went out to wrangle the rogues of the paranormal world, whenever he confronted the dark side of life, he fought to keep the world safe for her, to make sure she could fall asleep and not fear the bogeyman.

  Clouds of steam billowed out the door to clash with the chilled air in the room. He shivered as goose bumps broke out on his bare skin. As he returned to the bathroom, the faint aroma of steak snuck under the door. His stomach growled, and he smiled. Looked like she was trying too. At least he hoped she was.

  He rushed through his shower, then dried off and got dressed in jeans, T-shirt, and sneakers. When he opened his door, he noticed the package sitting in front of the entryway. He bent down, picked up the box, turned, and kicked the door shut behind him. He placed the package on his bed and bent to read the label. For a moment he couldn’t understand who would be sending him something, nor could he remember if he’d ordered anything. He bent down and read the addresses. Understanding dawned on him whe
n he read the name of the company.

  He leaned over and reached under his mattress and pulled out a switchblade and opened it. Before he slit open the tape, he took a moment to study the box. It was a pretty large box, about three feet tall and three feet wide. The company’s logo and name were on the shipping label but nowhere else. Interesting. He held his fingertips over the box but didn’t touch the surface. An electric charge tickled his fingers and rushed up his arms. He sucked in a breath as the energy hit his heart and then slipped down to his groin to swirl in his balls. Sexual heat rose to circle in his stomach. Ropes of fire slipped through his blood and coiled around his body. A hiss pushed past his teeth. He jerked his hands away. Sparks continued to go off in his body, but he managed to tamp them down until he could breathe past the fog of passion pulsing in his gut. He called on his stillness training to fill him. An ice-cold blast that smelled like oncoming snow welled up within him. He blew out a stream of frost. An inferno followed the cold until he could feel like himself again. The passion was a low tingle in his spine and testicles but nothing else. This he could manage.

  He slit open the top of the box and peeled back the folds. Among the balls of wadded-up paper and air bags were the eggs in the basket. The basket looked just like the picture on the site: bright bands of purple, pink, green, yellow, and blue formed the base and twisted to create the handle. The material that made the basket seemed to be rope, reinforced with a hard cardboard cradle to keep its shape. The eggs themselves were large plastic ones in the colors of lavender, sky blue, and spring green. He grabbed the lavender one and looked it over before putting it back in the box. He selected the blue one next. This one contained the vibrators, clamps and cock rings. They’d never used anything but dildos in their play, so this should be interesting. If she decided to stay. He still had no clue how to approach her or give her what she wanted besides sex. And there was no indication she wanted even that.

  The scent of steak grew stronger, and his stomach rumbled. He glanced at the clock on the wall. It was early afternoon. If he didn’t eat soon, the dragon side of him would take over and have him hunt for something. He drew in a deep breath, blew it out, and called for a little of the hunter focus he’d developed. He opened up the last egg, mentally checking off everything: condoms, lube, and massage oil. Everything was neatly packed in its own cases and packets. Nothing seemed too crowded or too big to fit.

  There seemed to be a spell on each item so everything would fit. His fingertips tingled with the faint trace of magic that clung to his choices. The labels had been taken off, but he knew they were top-of-the-line as he’d seen the same products on other sex toy sites.

  “Some powerful magic. I wonder how long it will last.” His stomach growled again. He lifted the basket to make sure that nothing had fallen out. At the bottom of the box was a pack of cards. He removed it. On dark-red packaging, the words read: TRUTH OR DARE. He rechecked the slip. Listed at the very bottom was ESSIE’S EXTRA: SEXY TRUTH OR DARE PLAYING CARDS. He ripped open the plastic wrap and lifted the flap. Curious, he dumped the cards out and examined them. Some cards had dares on them from the innocent to the ridiculous to the crazy. The truth cards made him uncomfortable.

  The more he looked at the cards, the more unsettled he became. A kernel of an idea began to form in his mind. Carrie wanted him to talk, to open up? Then she was going to have to do it too.

  His stomach grumbled, and his dragon began to snap and growl within him. Fine, fine. I’ll feed you. He headed downstairs, carrying the cards with him. The scent of steak and spices wafted on the air, making his mouth fill with saliva. She’d really been working. Some of his defensiveness melted, and his emotions opened up. He could feel the ties she’d tried to cut still there, a little stronger than yesterday. Rather than use his connection with her to read her thoughts and emotions, he decided to let her tell him.

  He came into the kitchen to find the windows fogged up and Carrie putting a second plate of food on the table. She looked up as he entered the room. Her dark brown eyes were filled with reserve. “Hey.” Her tone was soft, almost demure.

  He nodded his head. “Sorry I didn’t get up for breakfast. Was exhausted. This all for me?”

  Her head bobbed in affirmation. “Yes. A peace offering.”

  He pulled out a chair and gestured for her to sit down. “We at war?” He didn’t think so but wanted to hear her side first.

  She sank down in the seat and scooted it toward the table. “Not sure. We’ve been arguing.”

  “Difference of opinion on an issue. Nothing to go to war about.” He took his own seat across from her and put the pack of cards next to his glass of beer.

  “Are we playing strip poker later?” A smile quirked on her lips.

  “Depends on you. Truth or dare edition?” He slid the cards toward her. “I got you a basket—well, it’s more for us. Filled with sex toys and stuff. That was included.”

  She picked up the package and looked it over. “Dean, sex can’t—”

  “No, but it lowers our defenses, makes us more open.” He had to point that out.

  “Okay, sure, but we can’t use sex to cure our problems.” She put the cards down in the middle of the table and went back to her plate of food, cutting up her steak.

  “But it may help.” He held up a hand to stave off her protestations. “I have a proposal. We use that deck. Play truth or dare. We use some of the toys from the basket as a reward system. You give me the truth, you get to come; you don’t, no orgasm.”

  A well-sculpted eyebrow rose in question. “And what do you get out of the deal? How do I know you’ll give me the truth?”

  “Because I’ll be playing by the rules too. Round one, I control your pleasure. Round two, you get to control my pleasure. I have to tell you the truth to get something, so… This is just as much about truth as it is about trust. Does that sound good to you? What are you thinking?”

  “Okay, fine. I’m not completely convinced, but I’m willing to give this a try so long as I get the truth from you. I’m willing to give this a whirl. When do we start?”

  “Tomorrow with a picnic.”

  “I—”

  “I’ll cook. You just have to wear the vibrating anal plug and silver bullet.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “This better be worth it.”

  “It will be for me.” He settled back into his seat and dug into his food. At least she was giving his plan a chance. Now to make sure everything went well. How hard could telling the truth be?

  Chapter Four

  Easter

  Carrie paced in her room. Nervous energy coursed through her body. Her palms were damp, and her head throbbed as panic rose up within her. What the hell did I just agree to? Is this contrary to what I wanted from him? Sex can’t save us. Those thoughts circled her head. She thought of the truth or dare cards and couldn’t understand how it could help. Is our relationship a game to him? Does he really want to be honest or does he want sex? A scream scratched up her throat. Frustration shoved away the nerves. She couldn’t see how his plan was better than just sitting down and talking it out. Does he really think sex lowers shields? Or is he basing his assumption on the pleasure reward principle? Give her a taste of relief and she’ll say anything? And what about him? What does he get from this? She still didn’t see his side of things. He wouldn’t be getting relief from frustration. He might control when she got an orgasm, but he didn’t get to come until it was her turn. She clenched her fists; her nails dug into her palms.

  A knock on the door startled her. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes, centered herself, and let her arms go slack and her shoulders slump. “Coming.”

  “Oh, you will be,” was his response. The determination and wicked intent penetrated the door and bounced around her room to ping her body with soft taps, raising the hair on her nape and arms. Magic skittered over bare skin to sink deep into her flesh and tease a small charge of arousal inside her. She felt her sex grow heavy. Her clit thicke
ned, and tingles raced along her inner thighs and lower back, around her ass to ride up her spine.

  “Carrie?” he called. His voice was dark, deep. The doorknob turned, and the door swung open. He stood in the entryway of her bedroom, framed in darkness despite the bright sunlight that filtered through the space.

  She cursed. “Do you really need all these tricks?”

  His lips quirked into a smirk. He held up the anal plug, the silver bullet vibrator, and a bottle of lube. Her heart jolted at the sight, and her tummy flipped. She swallowed. It had been awhile since they’d done anal penetration. She might have been eager the night he got back, but this time was different. This time the intent wasn’t play or fun. There was an objective here. He was in control.

  She’d never expressed her desire for him to take complete control in the bedroom. They’d done light bondage and included sex toys, but he’d never given the orders or fully taken control, nor had she surrendered herself to him completely. They were still finding their way in that area. The honesty issue was their first major hurdle. She doubted it would get easier; at least they’d have communication on their side.

  “No.”

  But he’d use them nonetheless. Sneaky dragon.

  Might as well go along with him, see where it went. She gritted her teeth and held her hand out, palm up. “Hand them over.”

  He shook his head. “Do you trust me?” He moved farther into the room with a predatory grace. Power rippled along her flesh; it tweaked her nipples, slipped over her stomach, and teased her pussy lips. She swallowed and pressed her thighs together.

  She gritted her teeth. “Damn you.”

  He lifted a shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. “Do you?” His eyes flashed to molten gold for a moment. The dragon peeked out, then vanished. Black scales rippled over his bare arms and neck. The gray undertone glimmered under the darkened light that seemed to cling to him. The sunny warmth that streamed through the windows dulled as Dean allowed his dragon abilities to come into play and pulled the light into himself and used its warmth on her. Flicks of flame spread over her body, delving under her clothing to touch, tease her, remind her what he was capable of.