Carter (Bourbon & Blood Book 3)

by Seraphina Donavan

  “For how long?” It wouldn’t end well. She knew that, but there was no possible way it could. She might as well enjoy it for as long as she could.

  “Until it stops being fun for either one of us,” he said.

  “We’re not exactly having fun now,” she said.

  His cocky smile was enough to melt the panties right off her. “We could be.”

  He didn’t need to make the offer twice. Reaching for the hem of her T-shirt, Josie pulled it up, over her head, and then tossed it to the corner of the room. “Shut up then and show me.”

  He laughed. “You’re not the boss of me, Josie Marcum,” he said, throwing her own inebriated words back at her.

  “I don’t have any shoes to throw at you right now,” she protested, “Are you ever going to do something with that mouth that isn’t talking?”

  He pulled back the covers, exposing her legs and the simple cotton panties she wore. She’d thought about changing, about putting on something slinky and sexy. But she’d done that last time and it had been an unmitigated disaster. Also, it smacked of trying too hard. Of expectation.

  Carter crawled up the bed, his arms caging her, his weight pressing her back. She was used to feeling short, but being so close to him, she felt small and delicate, feminine and vulnerable in a way that both terrified and excited her.

  “You call the shots outside of this room,” he said. “You wanted secret, I’ll give it to you…. but in here, Josephine, I’m in charge. We clear?”

  A shudder rippled through her. They were perfectly clear and he’d never been hotter. She couldn’t speak so she just nodded.

  He smiled as he pressed a kiss against her chest, his tongue gliding over the delicate skin between her breasts. With Carter, it was like her entire body became an erogenous zone. He could touch her anywhere and it was instant heat.

  She didn’t try to rush him. She knew better. Carter was going to do what Carter wanted to do and when he wanted to do it. Her only option was to tell him to stop or to let him drive her completely insane with lust.

  His hands roamed her skin, callused fingertips grazing, dragging over sensitive flesh until she was writhing beneath him. Everywhere his hands traveled, his mouth followed. Hot, open mouthed kisses, the nip of his teeth driving her to the edge. She hovered there, her body drawn as taut as a bow string. Tension coiled in her. Her breath came in sharp pants. And all she wanted was to feel him inside her, to have him ease the unbearable ache that he’d created.

  When he finally rose and stripped off his own clothes, baring his perfect body to her, Josie couldn’t not touch him. Sliding her hands over his steely thighs, her nails raking his skin and eliciting a sharp hiss from him, she smiled. “You’re in charge… if you don’t want me to do this—.”

  He didn’t tell her no, but he did grip her wrist and move her hand exactly where he wanted. With his hand over hers, he closed her fingers around him, guiding her, showing her exactly what he wanted. Stroking him, feeling him growing even harder beneath her fingers, Josie watched his head fall back.

  “Fuck.” The word escaped his lips, part whisper and part groan.

  He’d always been in charge, she thought. In terms of experience, Carter was so far beyond her it wasn’t even funny. She was well out of her depth with him, but that didn’t mean she had nothing to bring to the table. Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she rose to a sitting position. There were advantages to being the short girl, she thought, as she leaned forward and took him in her mouth.

  Carter closed his eyes at the sensation of her mouth on him. The soft press of her lips around his cock, the flick of her tongue against him, God above, it was amazing. It might actually kill him.

  Sliding his hand into the thick fall of her hair, he gripped it tightly. Not so much to guide her, but because he needed something to hold on to. Every lick, every brush of her lips on his cock was like a little bit of heaven. With her hand moving over him, stroking him with a slow easy rhythm, her mouth working him in time, he knew he had to stop her. If he didn’t, the night would be over before it even began.

  “Josie,” he groaned. “Baby, you have to stop.”

  “Let me,” she urged. “I want to do this.”

  It took all of his strength to say no to that. It wasn’t just a point of pride to make her come first. He needed to see her wild beneath him, to hear her moaning his name. The why was a little trickier unless he wanted to analyze all the feelings he’d been trying so hard to avoid for so long. So instead, Carter just stepped back from her, easing her hands and her beautiful mouth off him.

  “One day soon,” he promised. “But not tonight… I know it’s only been days, Josie, but that’s just too goddamn long.”

  Moving onto the bed beside her, he pulled her with him so that she was sprawled across his lap, her legs straddling his hips and her breasts pressed against his chest. Face to face, there was no mistaking the desire written plainly in her expression. He could feel the damp heat of her against him.

  Carter parted the slick folds and eased inside her. Watching her face, seeing the pleasure reflected in her eyes, he lost himself in the power of that. He did that to her. Whatever else passed between them, no one else would ever make her feel the way he did.

  The way her body closed around him, gripping him tightly, pulling him even deeper, had him struggling for control. Closing his arms around her, holding on to her tightly, he began to thrust into her—quick, shallow strokes that only fanned the flames and made them both burn hotter. It wasn’t enough.

  Carter slid his hands down her sides, grasping her hips, he guided her movements—increasing the tempo and the force. Josie added a few moves of her own, clenching her muscles tightly around him, circling her hips in a way that practically made his eyes cross.

  Her head was thrown back, her long hair brushing his thighs as she rode him. Dipping his head, he kissed her breasts, laving them with his tongue. Taking one taut peak into his mouth, he flicked his tongue over the hardened bud until Josie screamed for him. That was what he wanted. To drive her wild, to make her forget that she was supposed to be the good girl, the preacher’s kid, the shining example that every other girl in town was meant to live up to. In that moment, he wanted her to be free of everything and just give in to her own feelings.

  She clutched at him, her nails digging into his skin, her body taut and quivering against him. It was all heat and need driving them towards release. When she stiffened in his arms, every muscle clenching tightly, her inner muscles spasming rhythmically around him, Carter was lost. Sitting there on the edge of the bed, her legs and arms wrapped around him, her head on his shoulder and both of them still trembling he accepted the inevitable fact that she had the power to break him. Somehow, without even trying to or possibly even wanting to, she’d burrowed so deep in him that he was never going to be free of her.

  10

  Carter waited at the end of the street for Josie. Thank the Lord it was cold out and there were no kids out playing. As much time as he spent parked at the playground he’d wind up on a registry somewhere.

  She approached his truck and climbed in. “Was it awful?”

  Her question was referencing the first ever joint Darcy-Hayes Thanksgiving dinner. And it had been an utter disaster. “Before or after Quentin Darcy and his newly discovered half-brother got into a brawl on the front lawn?”

  Her mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No, I’m not. But let’s get the hell out of here before one of your nosy ass neighbors makes all our sneaking pointless.”

  “Okay,” she agreed. “I’m curious about this surprise you have for me.”

  He grinned. He’d been planning it for days. There was a special place on the farm where he’d always gone when he was a kid. It was his thinking spot and he’d never shared it with anyone, but he wanted to take her there. He refused to think about the significance of that. Josie was still insisting that they were in the throes of some hot, steamy aff
air that would eventually just run its course. He had a suspicion it was a hell of a lot more than that.

  Carter knew better than to push. She’d panic and bolt. Patience had never been his strong suit but under the circumstances, he really didn’t have any other choice.

  They coasted out of town, rumbling past houses in his beat up truck. No one was out and about. Everyone else was at home in a turkey coma. They were the only ones foolish enough not to be nursing full bellies with a ball game on television.

  Deciding to start the sad tale of the first and probably last jointly celebrated holiday between the Darcy and Hayes families, he said, “Turns out Samuel has been a cheating bastard for a very long time.”

  “Not surprised,” she replied. “You know about him and Erica McCoy?”

  Everybody knew about him and Erica McCoy. “Oh, yeah. But this goes way back… There’s another Darcy in town. A half sibling from Ireland.”

  He watched her eyes light up. For someone who never wanted to be the source of gossip, she sure ate it up.

  “Really? He was there? What happened? Oh, dear heavens, what did Quentin Darcy do? Mia and Clayton I imagine would be at least cordial, but Quentin has an awful temper,” she said.

  She had it right. “Well, Quentin and the new guy wound up duking it out in the yard. I’ll give the Celt his props, he handed Quentin his ass. It was a beautiful thing to see.”

  He hated Quentin Darcy. Well, he hated every Darcy, in point of fact. He’d admit that Mia was growing on him just a little bit, but only to himself. If anyone ever asked him, he’d deny it with his last breath. Clayton, well, he was such a stand up guy that he had to be tolerated at the very least. But Quentin was a fucking pig. Loud, brash, rude, a total asshole to everyone and just generally a douchebag, they’d butted heads on more than one occasion over the years.

  “So what did they fight about?” she asked.

  Carter laughed. “They just don’t much care for one another… Men fight because they like to fight, Josie. Hell, I’d punch Quentin Darcy for looking at me cross eyed or walking down the wrong side of the street.”

  “So no one actually did anything, they just took an instant dislike to one another and started beating the hell out of each other?” she asked. “Poor Mia.”

  He’d missed something there. “What the hell does that mean, poor Mia?”

  Josie rolled her eyes. “Do you have any idea how much work goes into putting on a Thanksgiving dinner for that many people? The cooking and planning and the cleaning—she’s worked on this for days and days, Carter. And because they had to behave like children, they spoiled all of her hard work. And the lot of you sit there laughing about it while she watched one of the first milestones of her and Bennett’s relationship—a family holiday—go up in smoke.”

  “Well, of course, I don’t know how much work it is. I just show up and eat,” he said. But now he was starting to feel bad for Mia and that irked the hell out of him. Deciding to change the subject slightly, he added, “And the new Darcy is dating Loralei Crawford.”

  The distraction worked. Josie squealed. “Oh, that’s fantastic… I love her to pieces. She was always so nice to me. And her shop in Lexington is amazing. I’m too poor for just about everything in it but she has the most beautiful things.”

  Carter made a mental note about that. He wasn’t a total moron. “She looked good. Happy.”

  “So maybe the guy’s not a total asshole.”

  He was a cocky son of a bitch, but probably not a total ass. Of course, Carter was also still giving him brownie points for the breaking Quentin’s perfect nose.

  Turning the truck onto the gravel road, Carter hopped out and opened the gate. After driving through, he got out again and relocked it. It wasn’t really a road, but there was a small rutted lane that cut down by the pastures and he took it toward the woods that ran along the back half of the property. Parking at the edge of the trees, he walked around and opened her door for her. Those were the things he’d always been taught to do and it bothered him more than a little that they were never in a situation where he was allowed to be a gentleman with her.

  “Where exactly are you taking me, Carter?” she asked, looking at the tall trees with more than a little skepticism.

  “You’ll like it… I promise,” he said and grabbed the bag from the back. “It’s not far from here.”

  Josie climbed out of the truck, her heels sinking into gravel. He chuckled and without hesitation, handed her the bag and then turned around. “How long’s it been since you had a piggy back ride?”

  “I am not doing that,” she said.

  “It’s either that or let the gravel tear up those shoes… and I know how you feel about shoes.” He grinned at her, knowing it would piss her off.

  She sighed and then stepped back up on the truck’s running board. Locking her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, he hooked his arms beneath her knees for a little extra support. It shouldn’t have been sexy but it was Josie and it involved her having her hands on him and that was all it took.

  Carter took the graveled path into the woods, where it eventually gave way to just dirt and finally opened up in to the clearing where he’d played as a boy. The creek ran close by and could be heard through the trees. Piles of leaves covered the hard packed earth, but in the center was the surprise.

  He’d made a bed of old pallets and suspended it from the surrounding trees. With a foam mattress and a few blankets and pillows, it was a quiet retreat for them. He’d strung lanterns in the trees, as well. He’d swiped the ideas from Savannah’s sketch book and had to admit, it was definitely worth the effort.

  “Carter, this is beautiful.”

  He looked around trying to see it through her eyes. The ancient oak trees were so tall they seemed to stretch all the way to heaven. The rustling leaves beneath their feet and the soft, soothing sound of flowing water made it just about perfect in his mind.

  “I thought you’d like it out here,” he said. “I used to come here when I was little. I stayed at the farm a lot with my Mamaw and Papaw. After he died, Mamaw let Emmitt have the farm and she bought that little house in town where Bennett lives now.”

  “Did you want the farm?” she asked him.

  He laughed. “Oh, hell no. I hate farming. I’ll help Emmitt when I have to, but I’d rather take a beating… No, I got what I wanted. Papaw left me his truck and I’ll drive it till it won’t go another foot.”

  Josie just looked at him for the longest time. This sentimental side of him wasn’t something she’d expected from him. Grand romantic gestures like building them a bed in the trees? Well, she hadn’t expected that either.

  “You really loved him didn’t you?”

  Carter smiled. “He never told me I was like my dad. He never compared me to anybody else or looked at me like he was just waiting for me to get in trouble… And I spent more time with him than just about anybody. Mama worked so much. It was hard for her, which I understand now, but when you’re a kid things like money and having to work just don’t make a whole lot of sense.”

  Josie smiled as she climbed up on the edge of the suspended bed and then scooted back to lay down and look up at the sky through the barren trees. It would be dark soon and as clear as it was they’d see the stars like pinholes in the sky.

  “It doesn’t make much sense now, honestly. I question every day why I was so determined to work at the library… and why, as awful as Doris is, I don’t just give up. She’ll never give me a moment’s peace as long as I’m there.”

  Carter gave the bed a push. It was suspended with springs that allowed it to swing.

  Josie closed her eyes and let the rocking motion take her away from everything. “I can’t believe you did this for me,” she said.

  “There’s not a lot I wouldn’t do for you,” he answered easily. “And while I mean that in every perverted way you can imagine, I mean it in others too.”

  She opened her eyes and looked at him then. H
e was smiling, but there was something different in his eyes that she hadn’t seen before.

  “Are you going to stand there all evening or are you going to join me?” she asked.

  Carter obliged, climbing onto the bed with her. It swayed with their combined weight, rocking back and forth. He pulled her close, and she just let herself melt against him. Laying there surrounded by nature, her head on his chest and his arms around her, Josie beat down the panic, the fear that something so good couldn’t possibly last. Instead, she just snuggled against him and vowed to savor it while she could.

  “Do you think Bennett and Mia will get married?” she asked.

  He chuckled. “Should I be worried about how interested you are in them?”

  She rose onto her elbow and looked at him. “Mia and Bennett are like Romeo and Juliet, Carter. Everyone in town is that interested in them… I just have an inside track for intel. Will they?”

  “Eventually. Ten years is a long time to be apart, even when you do love someone… maybe especially when you love someone,” he answered. “They need to get comfortable with one another again, and they need to figure out how to be together without having to sneak around.”

  There was a note in his tone, an implication that maybe they needed to work on that too. Josie sighed and let her head drop onto his chest again. “I’m just as bad as everyone else in this town. Poking my nose into people’s business, asking questions about things that don’t concern me at all.”

  “There’s a difference,” he said.

  “How’s that?” she asked.

  Carter dropped one leg over the side of the swing, pushing off again so it kept rocking gently. “Because you care. You’re not asking because you want to see them fail… you’re asking because you want to see them succeed. You might be stubborn and ornery, you might have a temper like a wildcat, but you’re a good person, Josephine Marcum. Not just surface good, but deep down where it counts.”

  Josie closed her eyes, willing herself not to cry. She was all the things he’d said, every last one of them and more. But he still believed that she was good. With Carter she was always enough. If they went public and told people they were together how many of those people who’d reminded her all her life that she had so much to be grateful for would do the same thing again? All of them. They’d talk about how handsome he was, how tall he was, and then they’d hint that maybe her children wouldn’t be midgets. Or, heaven forbid they failed epically in front of everyone. Then she’d hear about how lucky she was to have dodged the bullet of being tied to a man like him.