Needing Carrie: A Savage Brothers MC Novella(10)

“I might be a little drunk,” I finally admit, as I feel his hand splay out against my stomach, instantly warming the already heated skin. My words make him smile. Nothing looks better on Jacob than a smile. He doesn’t give these full smiles to me often—the ones that make his eyes light up with laughter. But when he does give them to me, I feel like I’ve won a war, because I can see the joy in him during those minutes. I hold them close and take them into my heart.

“You might be,” he says, burying his face into the curve of my neck. I feel his lips press against my skin, and then a second later, his teeth raking against the flesh as he nibbles on it. Chills of awareness run through my body like sparks of electricity. “You’re so going to regret that in the morning, sweetheart.”

“Maybe, but not tonight. Do you know why Jacob?”

“Why’s that, Care Bear?” he asks, moving down to give my shoulder attention. I let my hands caress his back, and then I seek the hand he has on my stomach, placing mine over it. My fingers slide against his, and I push his hand further down, past my stomach to the part of me that is demanding his touch.

“Because, I think drinking makes me horny,” I whisper. He pulls his head back to look at me again, and there’s that smile—except this smile doesn’t hold laughter. It holds desire. Victory.

“What happened to no f*cking while we’re at Mom’s?”

“I’m letting that rule slide,” I gasp, as his fingers slide between my wet folds, and push inside me. My head goes back against the bed as my hips thrust up in an attempt to force his fingers to go even deeper in.

“Is that so?” Jacob’s deep voice rumbles out, as his thumb pushes against my throbbing clit.

“Yeah, because I really, really need you to f*ck me tonight, Jacob. Please?”

“Nothing could stop me from it, Care Bear. Nothing at all,” he growls. He takes my mouth, and I cry when his fingers leave me, the sound muffled by his lips. It’s okay though. It’s more than okay, because it doesn’t seem long at all before his cock is thrusting inside of me. And that feels divine. Better than divine…so much better that I don’t even mind the feel of his jeans rubbing against my bare legs. Jacob wanted inside of me so much he didn’t even take the time to fully undress…and I kind of like that.

Another score for the Blow Job Queen.





11





Dancer





5:00 a.m.

I should have been up sooner. I didn’t worry about setting an alarm clock because I rarely sleep more than a few hours. Last night though, after making love to Carrie, I drifted off to sleep and for the first time since I got out of prison, I didn’t have a nightmare. Not one. I can’t explain it, but I’m f*cking grateful. I’m taking it as a sign that today will be smooth sailing. Carrie deserves that. I want today to be perfect for her. I’m marrying the woman I love, and by God, she deserves it to be something she will always look back on. She deserves beauty and perfection.

I get dressed as quietly as I can. Nicole and the others will come in and wake her up around nine. But, I want to make sure I have everything ready. I go to the dresser, reach inside the top drawer to retrieve the card I wrote yesterday, and leave it on her nightstand.

I stand over her for a few minutes, just drinking in the sight of her. Her auburn hair is fanned out on the white pillow slip. The sheet is dipped down and folded showing her cleavage, barely covering her nipples. Sleeping like she is, she looks even younger than she is. We have been through so much together, and despite the crap I’ve given her, despite everything we’ve faced, she still reflects innocence… I don’t deserve her. I will never give her up.

Never.

“You look like a man completely happy with his world,” Mary tells me when I enter the kitchen. Hell, I guess I am smiling.

“Today’s a good day.”

“Does Carrie know she’s going to be walking down the aisle yet?”

“No. She’s sleeping.”

“I never took you to be such a romantic, son.”

“Or an idiot. What if Carrie hates this idea? Don’t women love planning their own wedding and shit? Maybe I should just call this whole thing off.”

“You do that and I’ll take this skillet to your head!”

“Mom—”

“I’m serious. You know Carrie better than anyone. You’re giving her a wedding she’s always wanted.”

“I don’t know…”

“Well, I do. You’re having it outside, which Carrie has always said she wanted. You’re using her favorite flowers, you’re making sure everyone who she cares about, and cares about her, will be here. You’ve been working on your own vows. You even had her mother’s wedding gown altered so it would fit her. For the love of Pete, Jacob, what else could she want?”

“Yeah. What if she hates what I had done to the gown? I trusted the girls on that because shit, I thought it looked great before. It wouldn’t matter if Carrie was wearing a potato sack, she’d still look beautiful.”

“And that right there says that Carrie will be the luckiest woman in the world today. Quit worrying.”

“I haven’t even started the vows, Mom.”