Beyond Reckless

  “What time will Mercy be banging on your door?”

  “Any minute now.”

  He groans and soaps me up in an efficient manner. “You know how hard it is to have your wet, naked body next to me and not fuck you?”

  I wrap my fingers around his erection and squeeze. “I have an idea.”

  “Don’t.”

  Sliding my hand up and down, I flick my gaze up and find him watching me. “I wonder how fast I can make you come.”

  “Sixty seconds tops if you keep doing that.”

  I keep stroking while pushing him against the back wall. “I think I can do better than that.”

  I slide down his slick body, lowering myself to the wet tub floor without taking my hand off him.

  “Charlotte, you don’t—”

  “Shh. That’s enough out of you.” I wrap my lips around his cock and suck him hard into my mouth.

  “Fuck.”

  After a few slides up and down, I release him. “Can I play for a minute?”

  He doesn’t even open his eyes. “You can do whatever you want.”

  “Careful, Marcel, that’s a good way to end up with a finger in your ass.”

  He opens one eye and stares down at me, working his jaw from side to side. “You want to play that game? Because I’ll win.”

  Giggling at his answer, I stick my tongue out and swipe at the tip, enjoying the way he lets out a hiss and his head falls back.

  I spend time licking around the thick crown, savoring his taste, before sliding my mouth over the head of his cock again.

  His fingers twist and tighten in my hair and I moan from the slight pressure and tugging sensation.

  “More,” he urges and I’m happy to oblige.

  Sucking deep, I take him to the back of my throat, feeling a twinge of pain as my mouth stretches to accommodate his size. His happy groans fill the room and urge me on. His hips thrust slowly and one of his hands presses at the back of my head while the other strokes my hair. I relax and let him take over, showing me what he likes.

  I expect him to be hard and rough. Maybe try to ram his cock down my throat. But he’s gentle and firm in getting what he wants.

  “Charlotte,” he warns. “You keep doing that…” he trails off, but I understand what he’s trying to say.

  I answer by sealing my lips around him, sucking harder.

  “Oh, fuck.”

  The first heavy blast takes me by surprise and I rear back, taking my mouth off him. Above me, he groans but keeps coming. I work my hands up and down his shaft until he shudders and mumbles, “Stop.”

  He opens his eyes, staring down at me with reverence. “Get up, Sunshine.”

  I take the hand he offers and lift myself off the floor. He chuckles and grabs a washcloth, wetting it. “You’re covered in cum.”

  “You took me by surprise.”

  The corners of his mouth lift. “Tried to warn you.”

  Slow and tender, he cleans me up, then turns me to face the water. “Sorry,” I mumble.

  “Why? That was fucking awesome.”

  “Thought you cavemen liked your women to swallow every drop.”

  He roars with laughter and pops me on the ass. His arms band around me, his hands cupping my breasts and teasing my nipples. “Nah, true cavemen like to paint their women with their cum. Next time I’m going to shoot all over your beautiful ass.”

  My laughter turns to moaning, which turns to shrieking as the water goes ice-cold. “Fuck!” we both yell.

  I reach forward and frantically slap the water off.

  “My dick’s definitely done now,” Marcel says.

  “Hot-water is included in my rent. Long showers are discouraged,” I explain.

  He chuckles and grabs the towel I hand him. Instead of drying himself, he runs it over my back and down my legs. “We could go up to the clubhouse one of these nights. My room has plenty of hot water.”

  My heart stops. I’ve wanted him to invite me into that part of his life.

  But I wanted him to do it on his own. Not because I begged him to. And now that he has, I have to go and ruin it.

  “You want me there?” I turn and face him.

  He cocks his head, studying me. “I want you everywhere,” he says in a low voice. “The way you seem to feel about…I wasn’t sure you were interested.”

  “You say your club’s your family. Your sister’s engaged to one of your brothers. If this…if whatever we’re doing continues, are you planning to keep me out of that part of your life?”

  His gaze drops to the ground. “Some guys do that.” He lifts his head and rushes to explain. “Not any of…not my brothers.”

  “I understand if you don’t trust me totally yet.”

  “Charlotte,” he says in a low voice, grabbing my hips and turning me to face him. “You know how many women I’ve told all that stuff about my role in the club?”

  “That you have a gift for making money? Probably lots, I’m sure it’s a panty-dropper.”

  He snorts and shakes his head. “No, the patch takes care of that fine. The answer is none.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “I didn’t want you thinking I’m lazy.”

  I squint up at him. “Someone who works out as much as you must.” My fingers close around his thick forearms. “Can’t be lazy.”

  He snorts. “After the accident…for a time no one could tell me if I’d walk again or not.”

  I gasp and take a step back. I hadn’t realized it was that bad. He seems fine most of the time.

  “There was a lot of swelling at the base of my spine. As soon as they gave me the okay, I hit the upper-body exercises hard.”

  “See, not lazy.”

  “It helped me forget.” He turns away and wraps a towel around his waist. “And prepare,” he mutters.

  I trace my finger down the long red scar on his lower back parallel to his spine. “Does it hurt?”

  “Sometimes.”

  I open my mouth to ask if anyone else was with him but knocking at my front door stops me.

  “Shit,” I grumble, taking the towel he hands me and tucking it around my body.

  “What’s she gonna think finding me here two weeks in a row?”

  “That I really must like you.”

  He kisses the tip of my nose. “Same.”

  I’m too scared to say what’s really in my heart, which is “I think I’m falling in love with you, you completely-inappropriate-for-me man.” So I scurry into my bedroom, throw on some clothes and go let Mercy in before she breaks down my door.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  For the second time, I find myself face-to-face with Charlotte’s best friend.

  This time she doesn’t seem as amused by my presence.

  “So, the bad boy is back, huh?” she asks, sweeping into the room, arms crossed over her chest, best-friend-does-not-approve frown firmly in place.

  “That I am. How are you, Mercy?”

  She narrows her eyes. “Fine.”

  Charlotte smacks her friend’s arm. “Please stop.”

  I curl a finger at Charlotte, urging her closer. “I have to go.” Placing my hands on either side of her face, I lean in and kiss her lips, not caring that her friend’s five feet away.

  Charlotte’s resistance melts away and she sways, grabbing my arms for balance.

  When we part, she’s pink from the neck up. “Thank you for a fantastic morning,” she whispers against my lips.

  “You’re welcome.”

  She slants a look at me through her lashes. “Sorry about this.”

  “It’s fine. I want to see you later, though.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Family dinner at my mother’s.”

  My jaw tightens, wondering if Merlin attends family dinner. “Your brother gonna be there?”

  “Yes. Always.”

  I kiss her again. “Good. Call me if you need me.”

  Her eyes widen as if the thought of needing me surprises her. Or that I want he
r to need me or, hell I don’t know.

  Behind us, Mercy exhales a loud, annoyed breath.

  Reluctantly, I take my hands off Charlotte, holding them high in the air. “I’m going. I’m going. Have fun today, ladies.”

  “So,” Mercy says as soon as Marcel leaves. “It appears you’ve been dicknotized.”

  “Dicknotized? What are you, twenty again?” I narrow my eyes at her. “I seem to remember you telling me to enjoy the ride,” I say over my shoulder, jogging to my bedroom for my cell phone and purse.

  “Yeah, like a quickie here and there. Not sleepovers,” she calls out.

  “You’re weird.”

  She’s standing in the hallway when I emerge from the bedroom. “And you’re going to get your heart broken if you’re not careful.”

  “Maybe.” Heartbreak might be inevitable. I already like him way too much. And that small, annoying voice inside says he’s too good to be true.

  She glances at the door. “Ready?”

  “Carter really wanted to go to Nibbles with us. Let me call him and see if he’s still coming.”

  “Oh, good. I haven’t seen my little surrogate bro in forever.”

  A smile flickers at the corners of my mouth. Mercy’s always treated Carter well. So well in fact that he harbored a ridiculous crush on her when he was a teenager. Something she skillfully avoided yet somehow never made him feel bad about.

  Carter’s not answering his phone, so Mercy and I head over to Ironworks for more fatty goodness.

  While Mercy’s waiting for her coffee, I snap a quick picture of my breakfast pocket and send it to Marcel.

  See what you’re missing?

  To my surprise, he responds almost right away.

  Next weekend? We can get up earlier.

  “Sleeping in” with you this morning was better.

  I aim to please.

  “Please tell me you’re not texting the dicknotizer already.” I’m so lost thinking about Marcel that Mercy’s voice startles me. My phone goes clattering to the table and I scowl at her.

  “Stop saying that.”

  “Right, you said he was better with his tongue.”

  “No, I said he was good at everything with everything.”’

  She rolls her eyes.

  “What’s wrong with you today?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Well, lighten up.”

  A heavy sigh eases out of her. “I’m worried. My dad said the Lost Kings are not a bunch of people you want to fuck with.”

  “You told your dad about my boyfriend?”

  Her eyes widen at my sharp tone. “Boyfriend. It’s worse than I thought,” she says with a sad laugh.

  “Mercy?”

  “I asked if he knew who they were without mentioning you.” She reaches across the table and takes my hands. “I don’t want you to fall in love with this guy and end up with a broken heart.”

  “Too late.”

  We don’t have formal weekend dinners at my mother’s but I try to stop by at least once a week. More to relieve Carter than out of desire to see my mother.

  This week I’m more anxious than usual, worried my uncle might show up.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “Jesus, Charlotte, you look like a tramp. What’s the matter with you?”

  I’d chosen a coral tank top, loose, but not so loose it showed any side-boob. Even if it did, I wore a fitted turquoise tank underneath it. My ass cheeks were nowhere near hanging out of the bottom of my jean shorts. And since I never wear them to court, I finished the outfit with my favorite short, brown cowboy boots. It was hot out, so my hair was piled in a messy knot on my head. I thought I looked cute, stylish, age and weather appropriate.

  I’d be stunned, maybe hurt by my mother’s greeting if this wasn’t the first time she’d called me a tramp.

  “Good to see you too.”

  She shoos me out of the way of the television and I continue down the hall to find my brother.

  I knock three times and he yells for me to come in.

  “When did you get here?” he asks.

  “A few minutes ago. Mom declared I was trampy, so I’m ready to leave.”

  He rolls his eyes. “Ignore her. She’s mad I wouldn’t run out and buy more gin.”

  “Figures.”

  The roar of at least one Harley engine outside makes me cringe. “You didn’t warn me Uncle Chuck was coming.”

  “I didn’t know. Might not be him, anyway. She had some other shady guy here when I got home.”

  “Great,” I mutter. I raise an eyebrow. “So you didn’t spend the night at Bianca’s?”

  My brother actually blushes which is kind of adorable.

  “I came home early this morning.”

  “Charlotte! Carter!” my mother screeches from the living room.

  I hate that being in this house makes me feel sixteen and helpless all over again. Hate that my little brother still lives here. Hate that I bother coming over when my mother really couldn’t care less whether she sees me.

  “Well, the suspense is killing me. Come on.”

  Carter huffs. “You should’ve brought Teller. That would spice things up.”

  It honestly never occurred to me to subject him to this. “I’m not ready to scare him away yet.” I cock my head. “Is that your way of saying you approve?”

  He lifts his shoulders. “Why do you care what I think?”

  “Of course I care. You’re the only person whose opinion does matter to me.” We both listen at the bedroom door. “That’s definitely Chuck.”

  “Surprise, surprise,” he grumbles. “You know he probably heard about her overnight guest and decided he needed to come piss a circle around the house.”

  “Gross.”

  “Char-Char! Come give your favorite uncle a hug,” Chuck calls out as soon as he sees me step out of Carter’s room.

  He pulls me in for a full body embrace, which is rather icky, then holds me out at arm’s length. “Look how beautiful you are. Smart and pretty.”

  “She looks like a streetwalker,” my mother mutters.

  Chuck throws a hard look her way. “Shut the fuck up. Why the fuck would you say something like that to her?”

  Surprised he’s bothering to stick up for me, my gaze pings to my mother, who also doesn’t seem to know how to respond. She pouts. “I was joking, lighten up.”

  “Christ, you’re a bitch sometimes,” Chuck says, dismissing her. His gaze roams over me and suddenly I wish I had on a few more layers. “You look exactly like your mom when she was your age.” He glances down at my mother. “But classier.”

  “Whatever,” my mother mumbles. “I was never that fat.”

  “She wears it well.”

  Jesus, am I ever creeped out.

  Too creeped out to be insulted.

  He pats my ass as I turn to walk into the kitchen and I want to scream.

  “Dinner almost done?” I ask Carter who’d thrown the barest of greetings at my uncle before marching straight into the kitchen.

  “Almost.”

  “Need help?”

  “Sure.”

  “What are you making, anyway?”

  “Barbecue brisket. I need her to eat something more substantial than booze, cigarette smoke, and air for a change.”

  My heart squeezes. Not for my mother. She’s a grown woman who’s made her own shitty life choices. No, my heart hurts for my brother, who never stops trying.

  Stepping up behind him, I squeeze his shoulder. “It smells amazing. I’m sure it will do the trick.”

  His lips twitch. “Thanks. So, how was your weekend with—”

  “Not now. Chuck’s already voiced some opinions and—”

  He shakes his head. “Fucker. Why can’t he mind his own business?”

  “Hey, I brought the rolls you wanted,” I blurt out to change the subject.

  “Thanks. I ran to the store early to get everything, but forgot those.”

  “No problem. You need money?
”

  “No, I don’t need your money. Go set the table.”

  Uncle Chuck helps me set the table, which is beyond strange. “How you been, girlie?”

  “Fine.”

  “Work keeping you busy?”

  “I have plenty to do, yes.”

  “You ever do any criminal work?”

  I give him a cool look. He knows damn well I don’t and why. “Not unless it’s related to one of my family court cases.”

  Carter rescues me by calling me back into the kitchen. I help him bring everything to the table and then the four of us sit down for dinner.

  “We’re having a party down at Back Lake Park, next weekend. You gonna make this one, Cindy?” my uncle asks with barely restrained annoyance.

  “We’ll see how I’m feeling. You know I don’t take the heat well.”

  “You’ll be there, right, Char? You can bring your boyfriend,” Chuck says without looking at me.

  “Boyfriend? What boyfriend?” Mom asks, suddenly interested in my existence.

  Chuck points his steak knife in my direction, which I can’t help feeling is some sort of psychological slip or bad omen or something. “Char here is datin’ a Lost King.”

  “Charlotte,” Mom admonishes.

  Not quite ready to discuss my love life at the dinner table, I mumble. “We’ve been hanging out here and there.”

  “That the club in Empire?” Mom asks.

  Chuck smirks. “That’s the one.”

  “Their president is hot, Charlotte. Think you can introduce me?”

  “I’m pretty sure he’s married,” I mutter, stabbing my fork into a piece of potato.

  Chuck nods in agreement. “Was at their wedding. Pretty little thing. A bit uppity.”

  Hope’s the last person I’d describe as uppity, but I’m not a knuckle-dragging mutant who pats his niece on the ass, so what do I know?

  He reaches over and gives my mother’s arm an affectionate rub. “You’re a little out of date anyway, sweetheart.”

  Should I be offended on my mother’s behalf? Probably. Since I know this is some sick, weird game the two of them play every time she hooks up with someone who isn’t him, I couldn’t care less.

  I glance at Carter and almost ask if it’s time to leave yet. Except, he still lives here, so it seems mean. Instead, I bump him with my elbow. “This turned out really good.”