Unfortunately, I had to answer, “I’m moving today.”
He looked perplexed for a second like he forgot our plans for the day, which was cute and sweet. I’d never seen Joker be the former, and I liked it, but I had experienced him being the latter, and I’d always liked that.
Then his face cleared and he muttered, “Fuck.”
“Yes,” I agreed.
“We better do that,” he said.
I didn’t want to do that. My exhaustion had been swept away in the drama and lovemaking but now, especially after the drama, and most especially after the lovemaking, all I wanted to do was curl into his heat and go to sleep.
I couldn’t do that so I repeated, “Yeah, we better do that.”
He gave me a squeeze but didn’t let me go.
He looked deep into my eyes and said gently, “I should say I’m sorry I didn’t give you that after givin’ you a nice night out like you deserve. But I’m not sorry. Just in case shit twists for you, I wanna be sure it’s clear. I like that it went down in a way that I’ll never forget. I hope you’re over the shit that warped it for you because it’d mean a lot to me you feel the same.”
I closed my eyes, pressed closer, dipped my head, and pushed my face in his throat.
“I’m over that warped stuff,” I whispered there. “And I feel the same.”
“Good,” he murmured into the top of my hair. “Now, sucks, but we gotta move you.”
“Yes, it does suck.” I tipped my head back. “But then I’ll be moved. Travis and me will be safe and in a nice place. And that’ll be that.”
“Yeah,” he replied on a grin.
“So maybe you’ll kiss me so we can get on with that and get it over with,” I suggested.
“Yeah,” he repeated on a smile.
But he didn’t kiss me.
So I called, “Joker?”
“Carissa Teodoro in my arms in my bed askin’ me to kiss her,” he said quietly like he wasn’t talking to me and he couldn’t quite believe his words were true.
I felt my body grow still.
Then I forced the stillness out and rolled Carson “Joker” Steele to his back, with me on top, murmuring, “He won’t kiss me, I’ll kiss him.”
And I commenced in doing just that.
Lucky for me, Carson “Joker” Steele liked it.
So he kissed me back.
* * *
I stood in Tyra’s house—my house—dead on my feet but still taking it all in as Joker closed the door on the last to leave, Tabby and Shy.
I was in.
Not in in the sense that tomorrow I had to unpack all I could before starting back to work the next day at the same time getting laundry done and also getting to the grocery store as well as back to my old place to do a deep clean.
In as in everything was unpacked, my pictures were even hung on the walls, the boxes were taken away, and I didn’t have to go back to my old place except to take back my keys.
This was because the men had moved the stuff, put together the furniture, set up the TV and asked me where I wanted things so they could put them up on the walls. Snapper had even mounted my Dustbuster in the utility room.
This was done while the women unpacked, and it wasn’t just Tyra, Tabby, and Lanie. Elvira had showed, bringing with her women named Gwen and Tess (who were gorgeous, nice, and had tons of energy). Not to mention other Chaos women came, including, to my disbelief but in the end deep gratitude, Stacy (Joker had understated it; she wasn’t just a decent woman, she was really nice).
My dishes were in the cupboards. My bed was made. Travis’s toys were in their baskets. My TV was good to go and the cable already worked. My clothes were in the closet. And with Stacy leading the crew at my old place before showing at the new, my apartment was spotless and I had a bunch of images on my phone that she took and texted to me to prove that fact should my landlord decide to mess with me.
“Carrie?” Joker called.
I looked to him and announced, “I’m gonna need to buy more pastries.”
His lips twitched and I liked it.
But seriously, I really missed the beard.
He came to stand in front of me and put his hands to my hips.
“You gonna fall asleep on your feet or you gonna be able to make it to your bed?”
I had a strict rule, no matter what the day brought: clean sheets, clean body to put in those sheets.
I didn’t eat bonbons while everyone was working.
I needed a shower.
“I have to shower,” I told him.
His fingers dug into my hips as he muttered, “Do that. I’ll leave you to it. Stop ’round tomorrow.”
He was leaving?
Before I could think if it was right or wrong, I lifted my hands quickly and took hold of his T-shirt in both fists.
His eyes heated.
It was right.
Thank goodness.
“My bed is very comfy,” I whispered.
It was kind of shy but I didn’t care. I needed to say it so he wouldn’t leave.
“You want me there with you?”
I nodded.
“You want me in the shower with you?”
Suddenly, I wasn’t dead on my feet. Suddenly, I had a lot of energy.
And I needed a shower.
I nodded again.
He smiled. It was a new smile and it was amazing. So much so, I felt it all over my body.
But then he stated, “I’m starved.”
It was seven thirty. I’d ordered a bunch of pizzas but we’d eaten them hours ago.
“Shower,” Joker declared and I focused on him again. “Get you clean, order in, we eat. You fall asleep in your food, I’ll get you to bed.” He dipped his face closer. “I’ll take you for a Blizzard tomorrow.”
Something to look forward to.
In fact, lots of somethings.
I grinned at him. “That’s a deal.”
He bent his head and touched his mouth to mine.
It felt sweet.
He lifted his head. “Let’s do this.”
“Joker?”
“Right here.”
I flattened my hands to his chest, loving those words, loving they were true, loving all that he made them mean.
“Thank you for everything.”
“You don’t have to—”
I pressed hard against his chest and lifted up on my toes to touch my mouth to his.
Once I did that and he quieted, I said softly, “I know I don’t. And I love that I don’t. But I need to. So,” I slid my hands up to his shoulders and curled my fingers around, “thank you.”
He made a noise I liked in the back of his throat, bent his head, and kissed me.
Continuing to do it, he shuffled me to the shower.
In the shower, I didn’t conk him on the jaw with my head.
Though I did scratch him and hard.
He was right, since I’d let go and relaxed, I found out he liked it.
A lot.
After our shower, I didn’t fall asleep in my shrimp fried rice.
But I did fall asleep the instant my head settled on Carson “Joker” Steele’s chest in my bed.
And I did it with his arms around me.
After that, I slept deep.
And easy.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Let the Healing Begin
Joker
JOKER TRIED TO quiet the rustling of the plastic bags as he unpacked the groceries he went out to get while Carissa slept in.
She could finish up the generic ketchup, and then she was done with that shit.
He couldn’t say this was generous. He didn’t like generic ketchup and he intended to eat at her house and do it frequently.
So she was definitely done with that shit.
He also intended to sleep in her bed and do that frequently too.
It was partially about her mattress. It was firm but comfortable. His mattresses at the Compound weren’t great. He’d inherited
his room from Dog after the man left for Grand Junction, and his brothers had clearly not replaced them when he’d inherited the room years ago.
But this was mostly about having Carissa Teodoro, who’d crushed on him in high school and who’d whimpered, squirmed, and moaned for him, putting on a show he’d never fucking forget the first time he had her, cuddled up with him on that mattress.
He moved around Carissa’s kitchen, putting groceries away liking that he was doing it. Not only because he was giving her brand-named ketchup, but that she had a big, nice kitchen she could cook in, put all her nice shit in, and take care of her boy in.
He shoved a bag of frozen corn in her freezer, closed the door, caught something at the side of his eye and stopped dead.
Carissa was standing at the entrance to the kitchen in a big, shapeless nightshirt she probably bought for her pregnancy. It hung low, almost to her knees. It was pink and had a scooped neck with a little rim of lace. That was the only hint at any femininity.
He instantly hated the thing. It didn’t suit her. It looked like she was at her grandma’s house, decided to stay over, and needed to borrow something to sleep in.
He did not hate the fact that her hair was a mess. Partially ratted out from sleep, it was two sizes bigger than it normally was, and his girl had a lot of hair.
Her face was kinda swollen and her eyes were sluggish. It was eleven thirty and it was written all over her she’d slept hard for the fourteen and a half hours she’d done it.
That, like her big bed head of hair, was cute.
Now she stood across the kitchen from him, unmoving, and Joker didn’t know if she stood there because she was still mostly out of it or she was winding up to hand him shit for buying her groceries.
He could get how it was tough to accept kindness. He’d lived under that burden with Linus and Mrs. Heely for years. You knew you needed it, had to accept it, even go out and take it on occasion. But you worried you’d never be able to return it and that was not a good feeling.
Still, he had to get her to a place where she got over that. She’d be getting kindness for a long time to come from Joker, his brothers, and their families, so she had to learn not to fight it.
He opened his mouth to start that lesson when she whispered, “Carson Steele in my kitchen.”
He shut his mouth and stared at her, feeling a lightness in his chest he’d never felt in his life.
She kept going, her drowsy face warming, telling him everything even as she put it in words.
“My biker, putting away groceries.”
My biker.
He turned fully to her.
As was her way, she ran to him.
He had no choice but to catch her, and when he did, she took him back and he slammed into the counter, the pain of the hit spiraling up his spine.
But he didn’t give a fuck seeing he had her ass in his hands, the insides of her thighs pressed to his hips and her hands at each side of his head.
She moved her thumbs along his cheeks, her eyes watching, doing this murmuring, “Stubble.”
“Carrie,” was all he could force out.
Her gaze caught his. “I want the beard back, sweetie. Will you grow it for me?”
He’d walk through hell for her so it went without saying he’d grow his beard back for her.
“Yeah,” he replied.
Her eyes went soft as her lips curved up.
She gave him that look for a beat before she said softly, “Still taking care of me.”
She meant the groceries.
“Don’t fight it,” he advised.
“Tell me you’re gonna eat some of them and I won’t.”
With that she meant she wanted him around.
He smiled at her. “Generic ketchup sucks.”
That was when she smiled at him.
So that was when he was done with their conversation and he communicated that by sliding a hand from her ass up her back and into her hair, putting pressure on.
He didn’t need to. She tipped her face to him and gave him her mouth.
She might have been half asleep but she still had brushed her teeth.
She tasted fucking brilliant.
Though, she always did.
Still taking her mouth, he turned his back from the counter and planted her ass on it. She wound her legs around his hips as he dipped a hand up her nightshirt then down into her panties.
That got him a whimper as she pressed her heat against his crotch.
Fuck yes.
He broke the kiss but not the connection of their lips.
“You want coffee?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she answered, all breathy, something that made his dick, already getting hard, get harder.
“Breakfast?”
“Yeah.”
“Before or after I give you your fucking?”
With that, she pressed everything against him and tightened her arms around his shoulders.
“I think… after,” she said shyly, but did it still holding his eyes.
“Like your bed,” he muttered.
“Then let’s do it there,” she muttered back, sliding a hand into his hair to cup the back of his head.
“You got it, Butterfly,” he replied, lifted her off the counter, took her mouth, and, kissing her, walked her out of the kitchen and to her new bedroom.
She liked him kissing her. She got off on it. He liked it too, because she tasted good, she made noise, she gave back, and she also lost it so he was able to get her nightshirt off her with her barely noticing.
After that, he gave her his mouth in other places, taking her in this time and doing it lazy, like he didn’t do in his bed at the Compound or in her shower.
She had great tits, bigger than high school, with rosy nipples that tightened instantly against his tongue as he pulled them in his mouth. He heard her heavy breathing turn to panting and she slid both hands in his hair to hold him to her, showing him she liked what he was doing.
Jesus.
Carissa.
Going from one tit to the other, he had her pressing up, clutching his hair before he slid down, circling her navel with his tongue, and down, his body coming off her bed.
He curled his fingers around the side of her panties and yanked them off, her body jerking, her half-closed eyes widening in a way that made his stiff cock jump.
He clasped his hands on her hips, yanked her to the edge of the bed and dropped down to his knees.
“Joker,” she breathed.
He said nothing.
Instead, he tossed her legs over his shoulders, seeing her honey curls between her legs glistening, his dick so hard and straining against his jeans, it hurt.
And he liked it.
He dipped in and ran his tongue through her moist.
She tasted good there too.
Perfection.
Her heels dug in and she pushed her pussy into his mouth as she arched on the bed and cried, “Joker!”
Fuck yeah.
He bent in and went down on her, grasping her hips and pulling her deeper into his mouth as he licked her, ate her, sucked her clit, and tongue-fucked her cunt. She loved it, showed it, her legs clamped around him, her sounds drifting down at him or piercing the room sharply. When she slid the fingers of one hand in his hair and those fingers fisted, her noises coming quick and desperate, her body moving frantically in his hold, he knew she was ready.
He lifted up.
“Oh!”
He heard her frustrated surprise as he shoved through her legs and bent to her, looming over her with his hand in the bed.
It was hot as fuck watching her struggle to focus on him even as she clenched a fist in his shirt and tugged it to her, her other hand wandering close to the honey curls between her legs.
“Ready to get fucked?” he asked.
“Yes,” she answered instantly.
Christ. She was gone.
Perfection.
“Baby, gonna fuck you. Ready for that?”
he pushed.
She tugged harder on his shirt. “Yes, Joker,” she said impatiently.
He almost grinned.
Instead, he slid his free hand down her belly, knocking hers aside and toying with her curls.
When he did, he watched her lips part and felt her hips lift to deepen his touch.
“Joker,” she begged.
“Say it, Butterfly,” he ordered gently.
Her eyes widened briefly and flared.
Then she licked her lips and he almost lost it watching her do that before she said, “Hurry, sweetheart, and fuck me.”
That’s what he wanted.
That’s what he gave.
Flipping her to her stomach, he yanked her up so her knees were to the edge of the mattress, her fucking phenomenal heart-shaped ass right there for him, the smooth skin of her back, the mass of her curls along her shoulders and all over the bed.
He pulled out his wallet, dealt with the condom one-handed while he slid his fingers through her wet to keep her ready.
But even as he did it fast, he took too much time.
He knew it when she begged, “Carson, sweetie, please.”
He looked from her ass to see she had her neck twisted, her face filled with need.
Carissa Teodoro.
A hot little piece.
Fuck, his hot little piece, naked, ass in the air, lips begging.
Holding her eyes, he positioned the tip and didn’t hesitate before he drove inside.
Her ass jerked up as her back arched toward the bed and her head shot back, her ringlets flying.
Jesus.
Fuck.
Perfection.
“Move,” she panted.
He moved, pulling out, thrusting in, and giving it to her fast.
“Harder,” she begged, rearing back, lifting up on her forearms to give her leverage.
Totally fucking perfect.
He took her harder.
“Faster, more, Carson, please,” she whimpered, dropping her head and driving back to meet his thrusts.
He slid a hand around her hip and in, found her, and she started bucking.
“Goddamn perfection,” he grunted, slamming into her pussy, manipulating her clit, watching her take it, watching her love getting it and fucking loving giving it to her.
“Don’t stop,” she pleaded.
Was she insane?
He wasn’t going to stop. Christ, he wished he never had to stop.