His body stone, only his mouth moved, “Come here, Carrie.”
She ignored him, shook her hair and declared, “I’m going to help you heal.”
“Come here, Carrie.”
Her head jerked, her eyes got wide, and fucking finally she moved her ass to him.
The second she got close, he took her down to the couch.
He did not make love to her.
He kissed her hard, bruising her mouth.
And she didn’t give a shit.
He touched her, tearing at her clothes, ripping her underwear.
And she whimpered through it.
Then he fucked her and she took it, her mouth taking his tongue at the same time, her body lurching violently with each thrust.
And she got off on it, moaning her orgasm down his throat, her cunt tightening around his dick, doing that even before he got his thumb to her clit.
Once she found it, Joker came rough and hard, his hand fisted in her hair to hold her stationary so she could take him through it.
And she went back to whimpering, clutching him tight, swallowing his groan.
When he was done, not even recovered, he had two thoughts.
One was that he was glad she was his hot little piece so the three seconds he took to roll on a condom didn’t cool her in any way.
The other was that he’d lost control and she was definitely hot for it.
But she was Carissa. His girl.
And that shit shouldn’t happen.
So, still recovering from his orgasm, he lifted both hands to cup either side of her head and looked into her eyes.
“I hurt you?”
“No way,” she gasped, also still feeling hers, “No how,” she finished on a breath.
“Don’t lie to me,” he warned.
“That was…” she shook her head in his hands. “I don’t know what it was but it was so much of what it was, I’m thinking about starting a diary.”
He held her eyes.
“I’ve never had a diary,” she went on.
He kept looking at her, trying to get a read on if she was lying.
“But that needs to be recorded for posterity.”
It was that that made him drop his forehead to hers in relief.
“Then again, I should have started that diary two days ago. I was just tired from the move and all,” she carried on. “But right after shift tomorrow, I’m going out and getting one.”
He lifted up and watched her smile at him as he felt her hand sift into his hair.
“Just to finish our earlier discussion,” she whispered, he tensed, but she gave it to him. “I am going to heal you, Carson Steele. It’s gonna happen. That’s it. No response necessary.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her he didn’t need that. Not anymore. She’d already done it. And not by taking him hard.
By making him see what everyone but his father saw.
By making him see past what his father made him see.
But he didn’t say it.
He wanted to see how she’d do it. He also wanted to let her do it because he intended to take care of her, give her everything she needed, and he knew she needed that.
And he’d finally realized he was a man who deserved a good woman who’d go out of her way to do just that.
That meant in the end, he’d just kissed her and she’d kissed him back, holding on, giving him everything in a way that when he broke the kiss, he was smiling.
Let the healing begin.
Chapter Fiften
Already Winnin' the One You're In
Carissa
KNOWING JOKER WAS at my house after my shift the next day and Travis was still at his dad’s, I didn’t go out and get a diary.
But I didn’t go home either.
I went to Ride.
I was becoming accustomed to the cars and bikes, so I knew Tack’s bike was out front, as well as Tyra’s vintage Mustang. Therefore, I went to the office first.
I walked up the steps, through the door, and hit pay dirt.
Because in it was Tyra, seated in her desk chair. Sitting on her desk was Tack. Lazing on the couch by the front window was Hound. And standing by the side door to the garage was Hop, holding some papers and going over them with High.
“Yo, Carrie,” Hound greeted.
“Hey, Hound,” I greeted back on a smile. I turned that smile Tack’s way. “Hey.”
“Hey, darlin’,” he replied, his expression welcoming, but he was also watching me closely.
“All good at the house?” Tyra asked.
I looked to her. “Perfect.”
She grinned. I grinned back and then gave my grin to Hop and High as a greeting before I looked right back to Tack.
“Can we talk?” I asked.
He straightened slightly as Tyra’s gaze moved to her husband.
“Need privacy?” Hop asked and I turned his way.
“Not really.” I gave my attention back to Tack and because Joker was at my house and I wanted to be there with him, but also because I was nervous doing this, I launched right in, “Does Joker have anything to do with his father?”
The feel of the room turned funny, which I thought was telling, but I ignored it as well as the fact that Tack’s expression blanked completely.
“Gotta ask him, girl,” he said gently.
I nodded briskly. “That means no. So question two, do you know his dad?”
“Never met the man,” Tack told me.
“Do you know where he lives?” I pushed.
“Babe,” I heard High call and I looked his way. “Not bein’ a dick, but you need to take this up with your man.”
“You said don’t give up,” I returned, my voice a whisper, and I watched his mouth clamp shut. When it did, I shared, “He said he’s over it.”
“Maybe he is,” Hound put in.
I twisted to him, thinking that said a lot.
And what that said was that in his time as a brother, Joker hadn’t given it to them either.
But I sensed High knew. I sensed Tack did too.
I looked from Hound to Hop.
He knew as well.
They’d been around him and they weren’t stupid. They’d probably even seen the scars.
So I knew they knew.
“Carrie, babe, listen to me,” Tack said, and I turned to see he’d straightened from the desk and was facing me. “Man’s gotta face his own shit in his own time.”
I heard him, loud and clear.
I just didn’t like what he had to say.
That being, they knew, and they hadn’t done a thing about it.