Page 27 of Wicked Deceit
I swallow thickly, putting my hand on his shoulder. His muscles tense, feeling like rock beneath my fingers. But he still doesn't move. I look at Carter and frown when he erupts in a fit of laughter. Tears roll down his freckled cheeks, and he completely fucking loses it, doubling over with his entire body shaking. I watch in awe as he comes alive before my eyes. Gone is the angry man he presents for the world to see. In its place is a laugh so full of life and joy, my insides clench. If I could bottle up this man's laugh and save it in a jar, I would. I'd listen to it every night, filling myself up with his joy. Butterflies flutter to life in my belly and I smile, watching him let it all go.
Carter wipes away his tears and gains his breaths. The utter joy lights up his face, chasing away the shadows that plague him. I don't realize I'm staring at him with a dopey, love-sick smile, until he raises a brow. In return, I give him a shrug and turn my attention back to the frozen, scowling man in the front seat. His leg dangles precariously out of the car, swinging in irritation. A fire burns in the depth of his moss-green eyes, staring daggers at Carter's amused face. If I'm not careful, these idiots will have a full on brawl in the parking lot and get arrested before they can go through with the piercings. Time to deflect and move shit along.
Clearing my throat, I ask the burning question on the tip of my tongue. “So, what exactly are you getting done again?” I cock my head to the side when Carter's grin grows across his lips, and he wiggles his brows.
“Gotta fix my sword, Vixen." My eyes follow his movements when he points towards his crotch, and visions of his damn sword swim in my mind. Oh, yes. Definitely a sword of epic proportions. My lips pop open and form an 'O' and amusement sparks in his eyes. “I never got it completed. Thought it might be about fucking time. Maybe a piercing too, as it’ll be out of commission for a bit while I heal,” he says with a nonchalant shrug. His eyes darken, and his pupils blow wide, dripping with lust.
An eager nod takes over my head without my consent. No matter where this man gets a piercing, I'm down. Balls. Dick. Nose. Eyebrow. Shit—anywhere. Maybe I could convince him to do all the above with incentive….
“Are you going to pierce your dick too?” Nibbling my bottom lip, I bat my eyelashes. Secretly hoping he says yes.
He shrugs again. “Depends on how I’m feeling. But what’s a sword without extra ridges on it.”
Extra fucking ridges? Yes. Yes. A million times yes. My pussy weeps when I imagine the possibilities. Both of my boyfriends will be packing metal on their dicks. And my insides happily want to coax them into doing it several times. Too bad they aren't getting that delicious looking Jacob's Ladder. Is it too late to convince them?
“Do it,” I moan.
Shit! I moaned. I straighten my back and check for drool on my lips. Nope. I'm good. I didn't drool—this time. But Hell, they're both looking at me like I'm the damn roast they want to devour or split. Now is not the time boys. I clear my throat, letting my eyes wander away from their heated gazes. Time to pretend my outburst never happened.
Carter smirks, slapping Seger on the shoulder. “Let’s go,” he barks out a demand, throwing open his door with zest. There's a pep in his step when he rounds the vehicle looking at Seger expectantly. "Move it or lose it, West. We ain't got all night," he barks out again, moving to throw Seger from the vehicle.
"Fuck off!" Seger growls, throwing a hand up. "I'm fucking coming."
Seger’s back straightens, stepping out onto the pavement with tentative steps. He blows out a calming breath and shuts his door, moving to mine. Reaching a hand in, he helps me jump down from the vehicle like a gentleman. Interlocking our fingers together in a death grip, he pulls me along toward the shop, like I was the one hesitant to come. But now, some sort of confidence fills his chest, and he marches on with determination.
“You feeling okay today, Angel?” he asks, trying to distract himself from what he let Carter talk him into.
A few days have passed since I came home from the hospital. Aches and pains have become a daily reminder of the traumatic event we endured. Some days are better than others. Headaches come and go, some hurting more than others. Screen time is next to impossible, much to my disappointment. Talk about taking away my favorite things, minus the boys. They've been peaches through this whole experience, taking care of me when I needed them most.
Violent flashbacks frequently visit me in my sleep, waking me up in a pool of sweat with a startled gasp. The boys have been on edge, surrounding me in their support and love every time I jolt awake. Their reassurances are the only reason I agreed to get into Carter's death trap without a fight. Car rides continue to get easier each time I climb in, but my anxiety is in the back of my mind. Which is an improvement because tomorrow my brother is coming to collect me for Thanksgiving break, forcing me to buck up and ride in his car for three miserable hours.
“I’m okay today,” I say, leaning into his body as we approach the front door.
“No turning back, West,” Carter says with an amused smirk, pointing toward the door. “Once we walk through these doors, no pussing out.” Seger scoffs.
I scrunch my nose in protest. “Why pussy?”
Carter’s eyebrows furrow as his hand rests on the door handle, ready to open it. “That’s just how it fucking goes, Sweetheart," he snarks with attitude, completely dismissing me. Bastard. His fingers tighten on the door about to throw it open, but I grab his shirt and drag him back.
“Well, my pussy does some pretty amazing things. It expands, contracts, and pushes out babies—or will in the future." The boys' eyebrows shoot up at that statement about babies, and I swear something odd flashes in their eyes. Shit. Do they even want children in the future? I shake it off, pointing a finger at his dick. "Your dangly bits are more sensitive than mine. Why isn’t it called balling out? Or dicking out? Or…” I frown when Seger puts his hand over my mouth, silencing me from talking anymore. Asshole.
“Stop talking about your pussy, Angel,” he says through an amused but pained grin. “I’m about to let some stranger touch my junk and stick a fucking needle through it for you. You can’t get him all excited beforehand.” I roll my eyes and lick his hand, which only makes him bark out a laugh and let go. He wipes it down his jeans, looking lighter than he has since we got here.
“Fucking fine,” Carter grumbles with a roll of his eyes. “You can’t ball out. Better, Sweetheart?” He makes sure to show that he thinks it’s stupid and wants to use the disgusting word pussy but changes it anyway for me—swoon.
I smack my lips against his cheek, making a slight blush darken his cheeks. “Much better! Now let’s get your dicks pierced and tattooed,” I chortle, following Carter as he throws open the door with a head shake.
My heart unexpectedly pounds against my chest when I step into the tattoo shop. A heaviness creeps over me, and rubber bands constrict the airflow to my lungs. If this is Carter’s happy place, then this is hell for me. Sure, I saw through the window how many people were there, but it didn’t register that I would be in here too. People mill around, talking with one another and sharing loud laughs. Music pours from the speakers on the wall at a medium level, but mixed with the voices, it’s overloading my entire mind. My skin crawls with invisible ants marching up my feet and legs. They dance across my skin until I reach down, scratching away their presence on my good arm. Swiftly, Seger grabs my hand, squeezing my wrist with his fingers. He stands before me, cupping my cheek in his palm with sympathy in his eyes. My eyes flutter to his, where they pull me into the depths of Seger—highlighting the massive amounts of concern swimming in their depths. I heave a breath and shake away my panic, letting it subside into nothing. It’s just the two of us standing in the middle of a crowded room and no one else.
Carter steps away, looking over his shoulder with a scowl, eyeing my paling face. He stops at the front counter, leaning against it, and talks to the girl sitting behind it. They exchange a few words, and he quickly returns, shoving his hands into his pocket.
“Deep breaths, we can leave if you want,” Seger murmurs, looking me over.
My damn heart soars. Forget the panic marching up my spine. This man recognized what I needed and immediately acted with no hesitation. It takes me back to the time he learned about grounding and tried to aid me out of a panic attack.
“No, I’m here for you both,” I say with determination, looking deep into the vast green of his eyes, losing myself into a calming stupor.
Carter frowns, coming up beside me, running his fingers up my bare arm, eliciting goosebumps. I shudder under his scrutiny. “Good?” he asks softly, staring accusations at Seger like he did something to cause this.
